Ahimsa, or the concept of non-harming, is the first entry on the list of yogic principles known as the yamas and niyamas. Otherwise known as yoga "don'ts and do's." There are five of each, ten all together. These principles are addressed in the ancient text that codified the principles of the practice, the Yoga Sutras of Patanjali.
I once heard, from one of my own teachers, I think, that if you can successful live one of these principles, you are successfully living them all. They are all entwined in one another, sort of like the series of complicated connections that make up the human mind; you really can't work one without the other.
I focus a good deal of thought on ahimsa and satya. Satya is the principle of being truthful. Judging by ordinary, day to day standards, I am neither a dangerous harm causer nor merciless liar. Meaning, I never deliberately try to hurt people or lie to them. Unless I think telling the truth will cause harm and in that case I soften it into something kinder and more palatable, molding the truth into a non truth; a lie. All because I want to save someone from suffering, of course. Which should earn me some kind of prize in the ahimsa department, don't you think? Saving people from pain is a noble deed, after all.
Of course, living yoga is just living (albeit more consciously and deliberately and with greater attention than we normally give the monotony of our existence), and there are no material prizes for that. All the rewards are internal. I suppose it kind of goes against the loving self acceptance that is so central to yoga practice to feel like I don't measure up when it comes to abiding these principles I so deeply respect.
I understand the directive of satya that suggests we speak the truth in a pleasant way. It sounds easy enough. But what about the times when you cannot follow the old adage "if you have nothing nice to say, say nothing at all"? What about those times when you must speak the truth and it isn't pleasant, and no matter how kind your tone of voice, the receiver of your truth is going to suffer? Are the words you must speak causing harm? Or would the harm be far greater if you changed the truth or said nothing at all?
Now, following my wandering thoughts back to ahimsa, I often feel a great deal of guilt because I am not a vegetarian and I call myself a yoga practitioner. I love animals. Dearly. My dog's name is Tom and when I sign cards for the family I include him. It wouldn't bother me if people mistook him for a human. He is my fourth kid. Just a really hairy one. I would starve if my only choice was to slaughter and eat my beloved dog, just as I would starve before I would slaughter and eat another human being.
So, why the mental divide between hairy fourth kids I love and pieces of delicious animal meat already prepared in the butcher section of the grocery store? There really isn't one. I know what I am doing is wrong. Animals are intelligent creatures with their own purpose for living on this planet and who the heck am I to make them my dinner, especially when I know better and actually have other options? I don't live in a cave and depend on animal furs to keep my crotch covered and the kids warm at night.
I am not dependent upon my immediate, wild environment to provide me sustenance. I am dependent upon the processed food conglomerates of America and the myriad individuals and technology that makes keeping up my fatty American diet possible. The fatty American diet my fatty American upbringing has twisted my brain into believing that a meal is incomplete without some version of animal as the main course. I like the taste out of habit. I suspect if I ate real wild animal, caught and prepared by a real hunter in the real wild (have we such a thing anymore?), I would probably think it gross.
My palate has been seduced by the way meat is produced in our beloved nation and it is probably nothing like its forebears. Where would I be without the simple deliciousness of hotdogs on a summer grill? What, eat grilled vegetables and pretend they smell divine and taste delicious? I am a decent faker, but not that good.
None of this in anyway answers the question of why I continue to do something even though I believe it is wrong. I could tell you about my GI issues that make large amounts of veggies a source of physical suffering for me. I could tell you about my low iron issues and how red meat is an ideal source of this element. They are all excuses. The real culprit is my infernal laziness. It is time consuming and not all that interesting to do the research and preparation necessary to make a successful transition to vegetarianism.
The vegetarian meals I have had, unless prepared by a really good cook, were not so swell that I would want to eat that way all the time. Going vegetarian will be a transition not only for me but my family as well. The kids would adapt, in time. The husband might. But more likely he'd just try to sway me back into the meat eating fold with his own brand of reason. And, of course, there would be the delicious aroma of animal meat roasting on the backyard grill to contend with.
He'd tolerate the meals I'd fix and supplement with his own. He'd expect me to still purchase the offending matter and store it in my kitchen. He would pretend to not understand how it is either all one way or the other on this matter. I either eat and prepare animal flesh or I don't. And if I don't, then I don't buy it, store it or bake it either. Like most issues of morality and lifestyle, fence sitting only gives you a sore butt. It is not conducive to living in a way that is authentically representative of you.
The idea behind yogic vegetarianism is that not ingesting matter brought to you through violence keeps you from ingesting the energetically imprinted terror and pain the animal suffered upon it's slaughter. Nothing brought about through fear and suffering can be truly healthful for you. A yogic diet, a true yogic diet is simple, nourishing and satisfying. Food is fuel that helps to power the divine being that is you. It isn't the answer to your problems or the place to hide when the world is cruel. That is what your practice is for.
I suppose this is why ahimsa and satya are so tied together in my thinking. To behave in a harmful way and trying to live truthfully are totally incompatible. You can't acknowledge the truth that your actions cause harm and then do nothing to change your behavior. You are living harmfully and without honesty just in the matter of the food you eat, never mind in the hundred other aspects of your daily existence. I take heart that everything begins with one small step. As I begin the journey to nourish myself harmlessly and truthfully, I have that all the other changes I need to make will come with a little less difficulty.
