Everyone must do something to live—some become carpenters, others kings; some pursue business, others take up arms. These are merely ways to earn a living, to provide food, shelter, and security. But none of these roles define your inner being. Whether you are a warrior or a businessman is irrelevant to your essence—they are simply different paths to the same practical end.
Meditation, on the other hand, is not about livelihood. It is about life itself. It doesn’t depend on what you do—it depends on who you are. The challenge arises only when business seeps into your being. If your inner life becomes transactional, calculative, and strategic, then meditation becomes difficult—perhaps even impossible. Why? Because such a mind fears risk. It calculates, hesitates, clings to certainty.
But meditation is a leap. First from the head to the heart, and then from the heart to the depths of your being. On this journey, logic loses its grip, and cleverness becomes useless. You cannot negotiate your way into silence.
Cleverness, after all, is not true intelligence—it’s a pale imitation. The truly intelligent do not need to be cunning; they live in innocence. They move from a space of not-knowing, which is the very ground of meditation.
So yes, you can be a businessman and a meditator—if you keep business where it belongs: outside. Inside, remain simple, open, and free of calculation. If the son of a carpenter can become a Christ or a Buddha, why not you?