A few months ago, a neighbor of mine was arrested for stealing from cars and houses in our neighborhood. He had broken into my car as well (which is not entirely true, I had left the door unlocked) but he didn’t take anything (that I noticed, anyway).
I have to say that more than anything else, I was shocked that something like this happened in Bristol, in our own driveway. It seemed really unbelievable to me. Even though he didn’t take anything from the car, I was so angry. Angry that he’d nonetheless taken something of value to me: a sense of safety and comfort I had about living in this town. I was so mad at him that I wanted to leave a note on his door telling him that he should be ashamed of himself.
But strangely, I was also grateful to him. His actions reminded me that we aren’t living in some utopian version of small town America, but in real life, where sometimes, people do stupid, hurtful things to one another.
At Bristol Yoga Studio this month, we’re taking about a philosophical teaching of yoga called ‘asteya’ which translates from Sanskrit as ‘non-stealing’. It’s also the 8th commandment (of the 10 listed in the Bible), and generally a thing that we accept we shouldn’t do.
Among other definitions, the Oxford English Dictionary (“OED”) defines ‘steal’ as: “take or appropriate dishonestly (anything belonging to another, material or immaterial.)” This really upends my whole idea of stealing. It doesn’t have to be anything that is of value, we just have to take it dishonestly, (which, also according to the OED, means ‘lacking integrity or straightforwardness’).
So, to not steal from one another, we must engage in honest exchange, with integrity.
Generally, I think we think of stealing as taking something of value, like money or belongings or time, or even trust. But according to this definition, stealing can be of something material or immaterial; its value doesn’t matter. I’d argue that the value doesn’t matter because value is subjective. What I value deeply might vary from what someone else values deeply. We can’t decide for one another what is, or should be, of value, so this definition suggests that we should avoid stealing anything, regardless of whether we perceive it to be of value.
For example, we shouldn’t be stealing each other’s time. There is nothing that I loathe more than sitting in a doctor’s office, having arrived for my appointment on time, and then being told that I have to wait, because the doctor is not running on schedule. From my perspective, this practice is disrespectful of patients and suggests that the patient’s time is somehow worth less than the doctor’s.
But many of my friends and family welcome this time to sit and ‘do nothing’ while they wait for the doctor. What feels like stealing to me, feels like a gift to another. So value is subjective.
Admittedly, my own transgressions of this are many – how many times do I tell someone I’ll meet for lunch 12, but then not arrive until 12:15? How many corporate meetings have I been to for which I wasn’t adequately prepared, and this way wasted the time of my colleagues?
More than just telling the cashier there was a math error in the change we are given, I think that being told to not steal is to ask us to live with integrity as we interact with one another. I think to not steal is to acknowledge the value of each other’s contributions, possessions and attention, and behave accordingly.
Of course, it also means not eating the grapes while you’re shopping and before they’ve been weighed and adhering to store policies for returns and discounts. It means paying your debts. It means not breaking in to your neighbor’s car (even if the door is unlocked) and, most importantly it means behaving as if we all have value.
Because we do.
I have to say that more than anything else, I was shocked that something like this happened in Bristol, in our own driveway. It seemed really unbelievable to me. Even though he didn’t take anything from the car, I was so angry. Angry that he’d nonetheless taken something of value to me: a sense of safety and comfort I had about living in this town. I was so mad at him that I wanted to leave a note on his door telling him that he should be ashamed of himself.
But strangely, I was also grateful to him. His actions reminded me that we aren’t living in some utopian version of small town America, but in real life, where sometimes, people do stupid, hurtful things to one another.
At Bristol Yoga Studio this month, we’re taking about a philosophical teaching of yoga called ‘asteya’ which translates from Sanskrit as ‘non-stealing’. It’s also the 8th commandment (of the 10 listed in the Bible), and generally a thing that we accept we shouldn’t do.
Among other definitions, the Oxford English Dictionary (“OED”) defines ‘steal’ as: “take or appropriate dishonestly (anything belonging to another, material or immaterial.)” This really upends my whole idea of stealing. It doesn’t have to be anything that is of value, we just have to take it dishonestly, (which, also according to the OED, means ‘lacking integrity or straightforwardness’).
So, to not steal from one another, we must engage in honest exchange, with integrity.
Generally, I think we think of stealing as taking something of value, like money or belongings or time, or even trust. But according to this definition, stealing can be of something material or immaterial; its value doesn’t matter. I’d argue that the value doesn’t matter because value is subjective. What I value deeply might vary from what someone else values deeply. We can’t decide for one another what is, or should be, of value, so this definition suggests that we should avoid stealing anything, regardless of whether we perceive it to be of value.
For example, we shouldn’t be stealing each other’s time. There is nothing that I loathe more than sitting in a doctor’s office, having arrived for my appointment on time, and then being told that I have to wait, because the doctor is not running on schedule. From my perspective, this practice is disrespectful of patients and suggests that the patient’s time is somehow worth less than the doctor’s.
But many of my friends and family welcome this time to sit and ‘do nothing’ while they wait for the doctor. What feels like stealing to me, feels like a gift to another. So value is subjective.
Admittedly, my own transgressions of this are many – how many times do I tell someone I’ll meet for lunch 12, but then not arrive until 12:15? How many corporate meetings have I been to for which I wasn’t adequately prepared, and this way wasted the time of my colleagues?
More than just telling the cashier there was a math error in the change we are given, I think that being told to not steal is to ask us to live with integrity as we interact with one another. I think to not steal is to acknowledge the value of each other’s contributions, possessions and attention, and behave accordingly.
Of course, it also means not eating the grapes while you’re shopping and before they’ve been weighed and adhering to store policies for returns and discounts. It means paying your debts. It means not breaking in to your neighbor’s car (even if the door is unlocked) and, most importantly it means behaving as if we all have value.
Because we do.
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