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THE FIRST LIMB: UNIVERSAL MORALITY

We are here to awake from
our illusion of separateness.

Thich Nhat Hanh

 

THE YAMAS

Most religions or philosophies speak to some aspect of the morality contained in the words of the Sutra referencing the yamas. Robert Johnson’s classic treatise on Patanjali’s Sutras explains that “The commandments [yamas] form the broad general training of humanity. Each rests on a universal spiritual law.” Patanjali says that the commandments are not limited to any “race, place, time, or occasion.” They are to be integrated into daily living.

Often called the moral restraints, the precepts in the yamas are universal, and are framed as the “do nots” in life’s list of moral do’s and don’ts. The precepts contained within this First Limb are:

Ahimsa—non-violence

Satya—non-lying

Asteya—non-stealing

Brahmacharya—non-squandering of vital energies

Aparigraha—non-greed, non-hoarding

Put into positive wording, ahimsa asks that you eschew all forms of violence and treat all living things with respect and compassion. Satya is a commitment to truthfulness and transparency. Asteya means we take only that which is freely given. Brahmacharya is about controlling our senses and energies so we can cultivate our inner life, and aparigraha is about living simply by taking or using nothing more than what we truly need.

Let’s explore the precepts through the lens of your work.

 

NON-VIOLENCE (Ahimsa)

Compassion, loving kindness

Non-violence leads to the highest ethics, which is
the goal of all evolution. Until we stop harming all
other living things, we are still savages.

Thomas Edison

I practiced Bikram yoga for about three years in the early 2000s, in a little studio in downtown Hollywood, Florida. Bikram Choudhury created this practice in India and imported it to the United States in the 1970s. It consists of 26 poses, always done in the same order, performed in rooms that are heated to 100 degrees or more.

The teachers, Ron and Nancy, would always start class with questions and cautions: “Is this the first time for anyone? Are there health issues we should be aware of?”

In one class, a middle-aged man with glasses raised his hand when Ron asked about first-timers. He received Ron’s customary warning to take it slow and easy. The heat could be debilitating, and it was important to listen when the body said “Whoa!” As usual, Ron reminded people to drink plenty of water, and if they became overheated or dizzy, to immediately drop into a resting pose until they felt ready to rejoin the class. The middle-aged first-timer assured Ron that he was an athlete and very fit. Not to worry, he could do it.

The student proceeded to do the poses with vigor, ignoring Ron’s occasional suggestions that perhaps he should back off a bit. About thirty minutes into the class, the bespectacled student pitched face forward in a faint. His glasses cracked and blood gushed from a cut on his forehead. Class was suspended as Ron rushed him to the emergency room.

Non-violence, the first precept in the yamas, is foundational. One who is committed to ahimsa would find it almost impossible to violate any of the others.

It might seem obvious, and easy to live: Do Not Kill. Do Not Injure. Do Not Harm. Most of us don’t intend to do those things in the course of our work days, so how hard could practicing ahimsa really be?

But violence, harm, and injury have incarnations that do not always appear so overt or obvious, especially in the workplace. More importantly, people are sometimes impervious to the harm they do to themselves. Just like the man whose ego drove him to go too far in the Bikram class, so can pushing yourself too hard at work result in injury, pain, and lost opportunities.

A place to start opening your eyes to ahimsa is by making visible the ways you unconsciously do “violence” to yourself.

Think about your work habits. How long do you sit at your desk before you get up to walk, stretch, and take healthy nourishment—refreshing yourself with mental and physical breaks? Do you maintain a schedule that extends your days long beyond the time you have energy and focus, leaving you exhausted and depleted? These habits can be harmful to your physical, mental, and emotional self, and in the end, make you less effective. Instead of pushing yourself to exhaustion, consider how much better you can serve yourself and those around you when you are well-nourished, well-rested, and energized.

SELF-TO-SELF CONVERSATIONS

How do you talk to yourself throughout the day? Do you let your inner critic go wild with messages that batter your esteem or make you feel less than worthy? Do you allow the harsh words of others to take you to a place of self-blame, anger, defensiveness, or depression?

Pandit Rajmani Tigunait was ordained into the 5,000-year-old lineage of the Himalayan masters by Swami Rama. He is the spiritual head of the Himalayan Institute in Honesdale, Pennsylvania, and has written about how negative self-talk is a form of violence: “No one is closer to you than yourself. Stop hurting yourself by telling yourself that you are a failure. By judging and condemning yourself, you are dishonoring the greatest gift that providence has given you.”

Listening—worse yet, believing—the chatter of your inner critic only conjures dark clouds of doubt and fear that block your internal light. Doubting that you are worthy inhibits development of your full potential. You are worthy, as worthy as anyone, no matter what your job, your title, or your rank. If you make a mistake, so what? It’s not going to get undone by beating yourself up. Acknowledge what happened, apologize to those you hurt, and forgive yourself. Reflect on what can be learned from the incident, and let it go. Staying stuck in self-recrimination doesn’t serve anyone.

To paraphrase Gandhi, change means becoming that which you want to see in the world, so being forgiving and compassionate to yourself is the initial and essential cornerstone to practicing ahimsa out in the world.

Kallie teaches yoga at a military university in Vermont and also earns a living as a freelance writer. The latter occupation, she says, “comes with an overwhelming amount of built-in rejection. That kind of rejection can really feel like a blow if I let it.”

She has written a play that is in development, in which she also has an acting and singing role. Rehearsal one day was in a downward spiral—she and a fellow actor had not managed to strike the right tone. The director, cast, and crew were frustrated. After blowing a song with her costar, she started laughing to release the tension. As her partner stormed off the stage, her stomach clenched as the acid of self-doubt set in. She credits her longtime yoga practice with helping her keep it in perspective.

“As he stomped off, I was just watching myself withering down, feeling horrible about myself, all the insecurities rushing to the surface. And then I had this insight, which was directly tied to my yoga practice,” Kallie says. “I realized it doesn’t matter if this project is a failure or a success. If it doesn’t work out, it won’t mean I don’t have talent or that I am a bad person.”

Yoga helps her with mastery of the ego, Kallie says. It reminds her that attachment to an outcome leads to misery, so when editors decline an article or her book project stalls for lack of a publisher, she doesn’t take it personally. Self-blame is counterproductive.

Developing the ability to internalize compassion and forgiveness for yourself makes it much easier to extend that to others in a way that practices ahimsa in its broadest application.

LEARNING TO SEE THE “INVISIBLE”

Using a wide lens of non-violence (ahimsa), consider how you treat others at work. Like most people, you are probably polite and friendly toward your coworkers. It’s unlikely you consciously look for ways to hurt others. But look a little closer. Small, subtle acts of violence are accepted in many work cultures: gossip, manipulation, lack of compassion and respect. When such acts are commonly practiced and accepted, they have the potential to become invisible. It’s easy to become blind to the fact that seemingly minor deeds inflict real damage and injury.

How do you treat colleagues when the stakes are high and things are not going so well? When you are angry, do you blow up, or cut others down with sarcasm or unkind humor? Have you ignored people you don’t like, refusing them the courtesy of a “Good morning!” or “How are you today?” Have you found ways to exclude people you don’t like or consider difficult to work with from important conversations or meetings? Do you shut down people who don’t see things the way you do?

Here is a tough question: how often do you talk about people when they’re not in the room? Malicious gossip might seem like an obvious violation of ahimsa, but critiquing someone’s performance when they are not in the room, or making decisions about job assignments and work roles without their participation, also can be a form of violence. These common work practices come with a likelihood of creating hurt feelings, misunderstandings, and injury to someone’s reputation or standing. It also decelerates development of their potential and inhibits the best possible work results. People know that their livelihood and their opportunities can be affected by the work assignments they receive and the content of their performance reviews. Involving people in conversations about the decisions that have a great impact on their lives is a way of practicing ahimsa at work.

If you are in a position to influence the actions or work practices of others, how do you do it in a way that keeps non-injury or non-harm at the forefront of your actions? Supervisors, managers, and leaders have been entrusted with a kind of power to “get things done.” Wielding that power in a way that abuses others, even in the name of achievement or accomplishment, is a form of violence. When wielding a title or a position of authority becomes a method of getting your way, even if done through something as innocuous as name-dropping, it will create a climate of fear and resentment that is a disservice to you, those with whom you interact, and the work you’re all there to do.

Threats, attempts to manipulate or to rule over others, are harmful, an attempt to subdue freedom and self-determination by asserting control. In addition, such actions damage the enterprise because people take actions to please the boss in order to get ahead, rather than considering how to best serve customers and other stakeholders for the good of the business.

Practicing ahimsa will help you increase your awareness of these harmful acts and develop strategies for eliminating them. You can inoculate yourself to the negative effects they have on you and others. Lawrence, a non-commissioned officer in the U.S. Army, started practicing yoga a few years ago on a dare while living in Vermont. Now stationed in a combat zone, he says yoga helps him remain calm, allowing him to focus on the safety and well-being of his team on base, as well as in violent, volatile environments.

“I am known to have a short fuse,” Lawrence says. “But yoga has helped me curb my temper and control my emotions. Obviously, a war zone is not the best place to let emotions cloud your judgment.”

SPEAK UP! WELL-BEING BEFORE PROFITS

When people choose to put profits ahead of the safety and well-being of their fellow humans, ahimsa is violated. Think about the outcome of the housing industry collapse of 2008—where mortgage and investment bankers were obsessed with making money from their investments instead of best serving their customers. Their risky practices culminated in a form of violence—recession, unemployment, and people losing their homes. How many people lost their homes when they knowingly took out loans they knew they could not afford? How different things would have been if all these decision-makers were fully committed to living the precept of ahimsa?

And just because you don’t have the authority of a CEO or senior manager, you are not powerless. Individual actions can be powerful, and they matter. When you see an unsafe, risky, or morally wrong situation and choose to ignore it, you could be unwittingly responsible for future violence. The Penn State scandal, involving an assistant football coach who was molesting young boys, is a heartbreaking example. Numerous people, including those who were in the highest echelons of the organization, were aware of the coach’s inappropriate and abusive actions, but failed to report it immediately or swept allegations aside to protect the university’s image. A culture of power, arrogance, and fear conspired to protect the institution rather than the boys.

Examples of workplace ahimsa violations, where people could have spoken up about dangerous or unethical conditions but didn’t, are depressingly plentiful. For example, safety violations were cited in three major mining disasters that occurred in West Virginia from 2006 to 2010, which took 43 lives. The BP oil spill in the Gulf of Mexico—a tragedy that cost lives, livelihoods, and horrific damage to the environment—could have been averted if the well-being of employees, rather than shareholder profits, had been at the forefront of decision-making.

Raising your consciousness about working conditions, how work practices affect the environment, then doing what you can to make improvements, is a yogic practice that serves you, your coworkers, and the workplace.

THE BLAME GAME AND BEYOND

Blame can be another subtle way to violate ahimsa. Anandaroopa, who worked for a multinational bank in Asia, was frightened and horrified when his boss blamed him for a situation over which he had no control. The bank was being investigated for tax evasion in a communist country, and most of the employees chalked it up to politics. But they were uneasy as it became clear their actions were being closely monitored, and people were being called in for “interviews” by the communist authorities. “In this country, people don’t have the same rights as they do in the U.S.,” Anandaroopa says. “The authorities could haul people in for questioning at any time and detain them for up to a year. It was a really tense time.”

When Anandaroopa was brought in for questioning, authorities showed him signed statements from the bank’s president. The statements alleged that Anandaroopa was the mastermind behind any tax irregularities. “I was stunned and scared. I was close to both [the bank president] and his wife. It definitely felt like they had committed an act of violence against me.” Although the bank was eventually cleared, the parent company’s officials felt it was too risky to do business in that country and decided to shut the bank down. And the bank president assigned Anandaroopa, the assistant he had blamed for tax irregularities, the job of firing people.

The suffering Anandaroopa endured from traumatic experiences at the bank led him back to yoga, which he had flirted with briefly as a college student. Now his story serves as a cautionary tale of how easy it is to inflict violence at work by mindlessly following instructions. Although his boss knew people were going to lose their jobs, he protected himself instead of showing compassion, kindness, and regard for workers’ dignity.

CREATING SPACE FOR COMPASSION

Kindness and compassion are the flip side of violence. If you can’t muster these in a heated moment, developing strategies and skills that give you space to regain your composure will help you move away from negative action and toward ahimsa.

Thomas, who works with people who have disabilities, says his yoga practice helps him keep ahimsa in mind when things begin to unravel. He supports a man who relies on others to help him bathe, dress, cook, eat, and get to work. His physical and emotional disabilities are a source of great frustration, which leads to blow-ups. For Thomas, it can create a volatile and stressful work environment.

Practicing ahimsa has been key to helping Thomas stay calm and compassionate in the face of emotional outbursts and helps him remember it is not personal when his client lashes out. Ahimsa helps keep the relationship functional—Thomas has learned to step away from a situation that is getting too heated or out of control.

“Yoga allows me to be of better service,” Thomas says. “I do best when I have compassion for what he is going through, and ahimsa also tells me when to remove myself from a situation where I am tempted to do or say something unkind.” He knows they both will benefit from time and space to calm down. He tells his client it is time for a break, and steps out of the room to refocus on what he is there to do—be of service.

AHIMSA IN A VIOLENT WORLD

Lacey, a police officer who teaches yoga in her off-duty hours, sees both of her jobs as contributing to a less violent world. She is a sergeant on the police force in Las Vegas, a town rife with all the temptations appealing to human nature’s basest instincts. She says yoga literally has saved her life (more in Chapter Five) and her sanity. “The stress of being a cop will drive you over the edge. I’ve seen other cops deal with it through pain pills, alcohol, girls, gambling … you name it. Yoga is what I do instead. It keeps me clearheaded.”

She sees the irony of trying to practice ahimsa in a job that sometimes requires her to use violent means to stop people who intend to hurt others. Lacey was initially shattered when she experienced a police officer’s worst possible scenario: taking the life of a human being in order to protect others. “That was really hard on me. I take ahimsa seriously, and I really struggled. After it happened, I called my teacher to talk it through. He told me that for the warrior, violence is always a last resort. Even so, the warrior also has to stand ready. If drastic actions are necessary to protect yourself and the community—and if those actions ultimately save lives—then that is practicing ahimsa. If we are doing our job right, and our presence helps decrease crime, that is ahimsa. As police officers, we try to stop others from doing harm by using the least force possible. That is ahimsa.”

Five suggestions for practicing ahimsa

1. Commit to a day of noticing your internal conversations. Journal about it at the end of the day and see what you discover. Do you need to change the conversation?

2. Make a list of the short- and long-term consequences for you, your coworkers, and the business when you push yourself too aggressively, or ask others to do the same. How does ahimsa apply in those situations?

3. Who are the people you know or admire that exemplify ahimsa in their work? List the ways you see them doing this. How might you adopt similar actions?

4. Make a list of the gains that come with practicing ahimsa, as well as the potential losses. What would you have to give up in order to gain the benefits of ahimsa? Remember that all gains are not positive, and all losses are not negative. For instance, you might gain a fear of being seen as weak or ineffective, or lose the ability to wield your power the way you have been accustomed to.

5. Create intentions around a practice of non-violence. Make a list of the ways you could integrate this practice into your work. What one thing can you commit to do for a day, a week, or a month that would expand your on-the-job practice of this precept?

 

NON-LYING (Satya)

Commitment to truth

There are only two mistakes one can make
along the road to truth—not going all the way,
and not starting.

Buddha

While working in California in the early days of our relationship, Jamie and I decided to attend a Bikram class together. Jamie had never done that type of yoga and wanted to have the experience. We moved through the series of poses as a young, lithe, and driven teacher gave instructions, occasionally demonstrating and making corrections.

When it was time to do reclining hero pose (supta virasana), I shot Jamie a worried look. The pose entails sitting on your legs, seat between feet, while working your torso back to lie on the floor. Jamie suffered a high school football injury that resulted in major surgery, so it’s impossible for him to bend his right knee much past 90 degrees. “You might want to skip this one,” I whispered. But he attempted it as best he could.

The instructor marched over, plopped herself next to Jamie’s mat, and expertly dropped into a flawless pose. “Come on,” she said to him, loudly enough for everyone to hear. “What’s this? I have an 80-year-old student who can do this pose better than you are!”

During my first course of teacher training, a class discussion on “right speech” included four questions to consider each time you speak. The questions resonated because they aligned so perfectly with the principles of the Authentic Conversations workshops I was learning to teach inside organizations. I could see how the questions, if answered positively, would instantly elevate conversations into a more authentic realm.

1. Is it true?

2. Is it necessary?

3. Is it kind?

4. Does it improve upon the silence?

(We have also seen these questions incorporated into the acronym THINK: True, Helpful, Improves upon the silence, Necessary, Kind.)

Was the Bikram yoga teacher’s comment to Jamie true? We have neither reason nor evidence to believe she didn’t know an 80-year-old woman who could do reclining hero pose. But was the comment necessary, helpful, or kind? Did it improve upon the silence?

THE THREE ELEMENTS OF TRUTH

It is no coincidence that the first question is about truth. That is the standard of satya, the second yama. We see truth as having three facets:

1. Telling the truth as you know it

2. Being willing to hear another’s truth as they know it

3. Understanding that many things can be true at the same time

At work, the third point is an important and often overlooked facet of a truth-telling (satya) where versions of “What happened here?” and “Who did what?” are numerous and have significant ramifications. When things get derailed or problems arise, trying to untangle “who said what to whom and when” can create an energy-sapping blame game. In addition, claiming that your experience is the only “truth” is the antithesis of learning. The lessons of discovery that spring from understanding multiple points of view, each of which is experienced as true for the individual, get lost in defensiveness and recrimination.

Truth—in terms of honesty, transparency, engagement, and respect—can be a rare commodity in the work world. Knowledge is often seen as power, manipulation is widely practiced and considered acceptable, and people are consumed with covering their bacon. Even so, it would be hard to argue that practicing satya is not essential for a truly successful enterprise. It creates the necessary conditions for work cultures that operate based on:

~ People trusting each other

~ Knowledge and understanding

~ Connection to others

~ Confidence in the enterprise

~ Commitment to a vision

The number of people in organizations who complain to us that they can’t possibly tell the truth at work is striking and disheartening. People see being honest as a radical act. It is too risky, a possible career killer. They report that telling their truth has resulted in negative repercussions at work. They insist it’s not safe to do so, and tell us stories to back it up. “Management (my coworker, my boss, the customer) doesn’t want to hear the truth” is a common refrain. And when they say this, we understand they are speaking their truth. No doubt about it—it takes great courage to tell the truth with goodwill, especially when the culture doesn’t support honesty or candor. Even so, it might be worth examining how much of the risk is real or perceived—what direct evidence or data do you have that speaking up for the good of the business would put your job at risk? Here is another important question: what is the cost to you and the business when you’re living in an environment that no one can believe in?

SATYA IS THE FOUNDATION OF TRUST

On the flip side, it is not uncommon to hear CEOs and senior managers we work with say they can’t be transparent about the workings of the business because “those people can’t handle it.” The truth just worries people unnecessarily, they say. It creates a distraction and raises too many questions that are not easy to answer. In our view, such statements are about leaders trying to be responsible for someone else’s emotional reactions—which is impossible. And what is likely at play is a fear of having to deal with others’ emotional reactions. We are not the only ones who hear these stories. Our colleagues who do similar work share similar experiences.

Lying is a horrible business practice, no matter what your intentions. Hundreds of books have been written, many of them based on respected research, citing the marketplace advantages of ethical and transparent business practices in creating successful, sustainable businesses. People can handle the truth. Consider the times at work you felt lied to. Is that a better feeling than having to face a harsh business reality? Organizations often spend hundreds of thousands of dollars on consultants, training, and designing policies aimed at building trust in the workplace. A committed satya practice would create the same thing with little cost and great efficiency.

ELIMINATING THE SPIN CYCLE

Truth-telling, or satya, is among five core ethical values found in almost every culture in the world, according to research done by the Institute for Global Ethics. IGE has surveyed hundreds of thousands of people in diverse cultures around the world, seeking to understand the core values that constitute cultural morality. Truth-telling and honesty always rise to the top, along with respect, justice, responsibility, and compassion.

And yet satya is often seen as something that can be, even should be, set aside in the cause of protecting the image of a business or institution, even if it harms employees, customers, and other stakeholders. Consider this common scenario: A meeting or press conference is convened to announce that a high profile and formerly powerful person is resigning to “spend time with family” or is leaving to “pursue [undisclosed] opportunities.” That kind of announcement is so common that it has become a joke, a wink-wink admission that we all know what really is going on. Salvaging an ego, upholding an image, and keeping the dirty laundry hidden away is more important than telling the truth and building trust. Not only are lies told, people also are in the dark about what is really going on, creating fear and uncertainty.

When Carol Bartz, a former CEO at Yahoo, was fired, she took immediate control of the message rather than waiting for a corporate communication specialist to come up with the spin. She did something executives rarely do in that situation—quickly sent out a companywide email alerting people she had been let go:

To all: I am very sad to tell you that I’ve just been fired over the phone by Yahoo’s Chairman of the Board. It has been my pleasure to work with all of you and I wish you only the best going forward. Carol

As word of her action got out, reactions were varied: Was this a bold act of authenticity and transparency? Or was it reckless, spiteful, and harmful to Yahoo’s image? Bartz’s defenders said her action was consistent with her direct management style, and many applauded her refreshing honesty. They expressed hope that such candor would become a trend. Regardless of how you view her action, the fact it generated so much controversy is a telling commentary on the kinds of workplace cultures that have been created by setting aside satya. Had Bartz allowed the company to deliver the traditional “left to pursue other opportunities” message, people could discern the lie, which contributes to lack of trust, which creates a world that no one really believes in.

While this honesty is most definitely a moral issue, it also has pragmatic aspects at work. What are the costs to businesses when you see telling the truth as a radical or risky act? You build a culture with an implicit rule that critical thinking, creativity, and collaboration are not valued. How can you or the enterprise where you work achieve full potential when protecting egos or demanding obedience supersedes building trust? How can innovation, creativity, diversity of thought, and collective wisdom serve the enterprise when you are afraid to speak your truth? Or refuse to hear the truth of others? How can people commit to fully serving the workplace if they don’t understand how and why decisions are made?

Manipulating others at work is commonly practiced, to the point that it is often seen as an acceptable “best practice” for getting ahead. In Authentic Conversations, we define manipulation as trying to get someone to do something you want them to do without revealing your real intentions. This is impossible to do without a form of lying, because you’re withholding a complete picture. You are saying, “Getting the outcome I want is more important to me than honoring your right to make decisions based on full knowledge.”

Imagine a workplace where you and everyone you know are committed to satya. What changes?

THE “HOW” OF SATYA

The third question, “Is it kind?,” should be considered every time you decide it is necessary to speak your truth. Brutal honesty rarely serves, and won’t be heard as well as a message delivered with goodwill and compassion. A phenomenon that sometimes occurs in our organizational work is that people hear “authentic conversations” and make the erroneous translation of “brutal honesty.” It’s a false and counterproductive equivalency. As T. K. V. Desikachar points out in The Heart of Yoga, “Satya should never come into conflict with our efforts to behave with ahimsa (non violence).” Goodwill doesn’t require anything more than making a choice about who you want to be when you bring yourself to a conversation. Satya means communicating with kindness even if you haven’t been able to muster warm and fuzzy feelings toward the person you are addressing.

Kimberly, who teaches yoga part-time and works full-time as a food server in a popular bistro in Phoenix, credits her yoga practice with creating a more productive relationship with her manager. After receiving several harsh text messages from him criticizing her work, she was feeling attacked, defensive, and resentful. In spite of his reluctance to talk about the issue directly, she insisted they sit down for a face-to-face conversation, hoping he would be willing to hear her truth. But she also realized it was important to be honest with herself. “I knew I had to go inward first. I had to shift my perspective from defensiveness to a consideration of what I had been doing to contribute to the difficult situation.”

In the conversation with her manager, she explained what was going on for her, and asked him to explain what was going on for him. He brought up two difficult issues, one of which she owned. As for the other, she explained why she had done what she did. Kimberly says, “Yoga helped me be conscious of not wanting to stay stuck in resentment and create a situation where I was miserable at work. I wouldn’t be doing my best in that situation. The conversation ended up being super productive. [My manager] can come off as mean sometimes, but in that conversation he wasn’t. I was glad I did not let these issues just go into the abyss.”

One of the great lessons I took from several years of newspaper reporting is that “two sides to a story” is a myth—there are infinite sides. As Oscar Wilde said, “The truth is rarely pure and never simple.” When someone is sincere and honest in expressing the truth of her experience, that version of the story is “true.” Acknowledging that many things can be true at the same time enhances your ability to truly hear others, be curious about their point of view, and find common understanding that serves the whole.

SILENCE AS A VIOLATION OF SATYA

Keeping quiet when work could be more successful with your input is a form of dishonoring truth. For example, if you stay quiet about your doubts and reservations in a meeting when decisions are being made, it is a form of withholding truth. Trashing the decision afterward in “the meeting after the meeting” is another violation, because you appeared to be going along with a decision you have questions about or don’t intend to support. Fear might keep you from speaking up when you see a problem that others don’t. Who wants to be seen as a naysayer? However, speaking up with the intention of helping, when done with goodwill and without attachment to getting your way, will better serve the business. And if you can’t muster up the courage to speak your truth, trashing the decision afterward chips away at your integrity.

Depending on your workplace, negative consequences may be attached for speaking your mind. But what consequences are attached to your integrity and to decision-making when you don’t? And how much of your reluctance springs from willingness to own and be accountable for your truth? Non-lying is much more than knowingly stating a falsehood. Satya also asks you to be forthright, transparent, and ethical in your communication. Its corollary is developing a willingness to listen to the truth of others. If you have knowledge that others need to make a more informed decision, or reservations based on things you believe to be true, the silence will be improved if you offer that up. It doesn’t mean your viewpoint always prevails, but it fosters trust and improves the quality of decision-making.

Staying silent can also be tempting in the face of having to own up to your mistakes or admit your contribution to a difficult circumstance. By cultivating a satya practice, you can do these things knowing you are engaging others with transparency and building relationships everyone can believe in. Truth-telling in this situation also sends a powerful message about personal accountability, signals a willingness to take risks, and creates an opportunity for learning.

Trying to see others’ perspectives is an important part of Kimberly’s satya practice, she says. “Even in a situation where I don’t really think I have contributed to a problem, I at least try and put myself in their position so I can figure out what they think my contribution might be. And that usually leads me to realize I really did have a hand in creating the problem.”

Being mindful about the ways we label and judge others can help us with another subtle form of violating satya—projecting our judgments onto others and seeing them as “truth.” Judith Hanson Lasater, a master yoga teacher based in California, writes about this in What We Say Matters, which she co-authored with her husband, lawyer Ike K. Lasater. “One of the surest ways to disconnect from ourselves and temporarily forget the values of satya… is to project enemy images onto other people or even onto ourselves.” It’s distressingly easy to tell yourself stories about who you think you see. How often do you see people cast others as enemies, or give them labels such as “lazy” or “suck-ups” or “stupid”? When you create stories about others’ motivations and actions, fabricating elaborate scenarios that you can’t possibly know are true, it violates satya. My yoga practice has made me aware of how often I do this, and it’s a tough habit to break.

Improving upon the silence sets a high standard for communication. But just pausing to ask the question is a worthwhile effort. At the very least, it gives you space to reflect upon what you will be saying and consider the effect it could have on others.

Five suggestions for practicing satya

1. Make a list of the ways satya could improve the results of your work, your unit’s work, or the company’s effectiveness.

2. Commit to a day at work where you make a note every time you violate satya. Did you stay silent in a meeting when you should have spoken up? Give someone a false compliment? Give a partial explanation to a story to cast yourself in a better light? Without judgment, journal about the motivation behind these actions. What is so compelling about doing this?

3. List some of the ways you honor satya. Then list reasons you violate the precept. What are the triggers in both situations? What are you trying to avoid or gain?

4. When you listen to others at work talk, especially if you disagree with them, ask yourself, “What is true about what he or she is saying?” What changes as you look for the answer? How do you express your point of view with goodwill?

5. Commit to a day at work when you ask the four questions before you speak: “True? Necessary? Kind? Improves upon the silence?” How did it change the quality of your interactions?

 

NON-STEALING (Asteya)

Taking only that which is freely given

The desire to possess and enjoy what another has,
drives a person to do evil … not only taking what
belongs to another without permission, but also
using something for a different purpose to that
intended or beyond the time permitted by its owner.

BKS Iyengar

Sara was almost always the last to arrive to yoga class. On her best days, she would barely manage to unroll her mat before the teacher began centering the class. One day, she glanced around the room, observing the others who had arrived early. They looked peaceful and grounded as they sat quietly, eyes closed, ready to drop inward. She was still breathing heavily and distracted.

As a career coach, author, and in-demand speaker, Sara was constantly trying to stuff ten pounds of her life into a five-pound container of time. Consequently, she typically arrived at her appointments late, harried, and distracted. She knew it was rude. She wanted to change. And yet she continually yielded to the habit.

Her yoga practice was a refuge from the crazed internal metronome that drove her through the day, and she was grateful to have a place to unplug. As she found herself envying her fellow practitioners’ serenity that day, Sara wondered, “Why don’t I do that?”

It struck her: Chronic tardiness is stealing. When she arrived late, she stole others’ time and cheated herself out of peace. Sara silently committed to arriving to yoga early so she had time to disconnect before class began and receive the full benefit of the practice. As she honored that commitment, the new habit began spilling over into the rest of her life.

Non-stealing (asteya) asks us to take only that which is freely given. You don’t have to be an embezzler or pocket merchandise from the warehouse to be a thief, although many people find ways to rationalize that. We have one friend who worked as a bookkeeper for a highly regarded consultant who worked with clients throughout the world. He would arrange two or three engagements in the same area, and then bill all of them for airfare, raking in two or three times the amount he was justifiably owed. When our friend objected to the practice, the consultant told her not to worry about it. “They would have had to pay my airfare if I wasn’t seeing those other clients, so it’s a legitimate way of billing,” he told her. “And it’s too confusing to divide it up among three clients.”

It might seem harmless when you walk off with small things such as office supplies or postage, or use the company copy machine for personal business, but it violates asteya and has an impact on the financial health of the enterprise where you work. One yogini told us that during her student days, she worked at a restaurant where soda refills for customers were a dollar. Many of the employees refilled the soda and pocketed the extra dollar—definitely not living out asteya. If you have not been invited to supplement your income that way, it’s stealing.

These are some of the traditional ways of thinking about stealing, but this precept calls for more than just avoiding the obvious thefts of money and material things. When you consider the incomparable value of time, energy, self-worth, and reputation, you probably watch some sort of larceny being committed every day. A commitment to asteya means being mindful of all the ways you might be taking things that are not given freely.

A corollary to this yama is developing the quality of generosity. This is a wonderful way to develop your potential and that of others. Asteya keeps you connected to a world that is truly abundant by asking that you take only that which is freely given, and calling on you to be generous with others.

THIEVING WITHOUT THINKING

At work, it’s easy to move through the day without realizing how often you are stealing from others that which is impossible to recover. How many times have you heard the sarcastic remark, “That is an hour of my life I never will get back”? Practicing non-stealing (asteya) is a way to enhance our awareness of what is valuable, as well as mindfully respect what belongs to others. The practice benefits from a well-developed sense of humility and self-restraint. An unnecessary email, mindlessly interrupting a coworker who is focused on her work, constantly showing up late to meetings—these things take time from others that has not been freely given. Habit is a culprit, because we often do things without first considering the impact it could have on others.

How often do you hit “reply all” to an email before considering how vital the content is to everyone on the distribution list? When a meeting is scheduled for 9 A.M., are you habitually there at 9:05 A.M.? If you show up harried and unprepared, people have to take time to fill you in or decision-making is delayed. It’s time theft.

It’s a great thing to connect with others and express caring about their lives, but how often do work conversations devolve into kvetching about something or someone at work you dislike? Plopping down in a coworker’s workspace to indulge in idle chitchat or dissect the latest rumor going around robs at least two people’s time. Could that time be invested more productively, maybe by looking for ways to repair a relationship or resolve a difficult issue? How many meetings are stalled by unnecessary arguments or failures to follow through on previous commitments? Tangential conversations, when they remove your attention from the work to be done, are a big contributor to violating asteya at work.

After Diego, an investment banker, developed a committed yoga practice, he started realizing that some of his work practices “stole time” from clients and coworkers. “Stealing money? That’s what people think about, and that would be obvious and easy,” he says. “But stealing time? Time is all we have. It is the point!”

He decided that he should be as careful with time investments as he was with his clients’ financial holdings. These days, Diego schedules meetings only after thinking carefully about the purpose—what needs to get accomplished, and whether the work or decision-making can be done in a more time-efficient way. He develops agendas for attendees beforehand, and encourages others to show up well prepared.

Just before he hits the “send” key, he reviews the email distribution list to ensure everyone truly needs the information. People have begun to notice that Diego’s emails are pithy and to the point, which saves them time and aids in understanding. “I realized I had been in the habit of over-informing people, and mindlessly copying a lot of people. Most of the time, it was for my own benefit. When I started looking at unnecessary emails as ‘stealing space’ from people’s inboxes, I stopped filling them up with irrelevant emails.”

Donna Farhi, an author and master yoga teacher who has taught for three decades, talks about asteya from the viewpoint of self-reliance: “Not stealing demands that we cultivate a certain level of self-sufficiency so that we do not demand more of others, our family, or our community than we need.”

At work, becoming self-sufficient also allows you to work efficiently, as well as preventing time theft with unnecessary interruptions. Being self-directed and deeply literate about your workplace allows you to better serve the whole, and makes it easier to collaborate with others on ways to work more efficiently. When you take the initiative to learn about work processes, the interdependencies needed to get work done, and what really matters to the business, it will help more get accomplished in less time.

One common complaint we hear about in organizations is bosses who spend most of their time micromanaging. This could also be a form of stealing, because it robs people of the opportunities for personal development, critical thinking, and independence.

STEALING THE CREDIT

Work practices can conspire to make you an unwitting thief if you’re not mindful. When I was a senior manager at a major newspaper, I used to receive an annual bonus for meeting certain companywide goals developed by the senior directors. Looking back, it is clear I was pretty cavalier about recognizing that those goals really got accomplished through the talent and commitment of the hard-working staff I supervised. Satya (non-lying) compels me to say that it was a great feeling to get that extra cash at the end of the year. But now I find myself wondering why everyone in an organization doesn’t get commensurately rewarded with bonuses when goals are met and profits are healthy. Each person who contributes to a healthy bottom line deserves credit and financial reward, from the CEO to the front desk receptionist.

When Jamie worked at a major consulting firm several years ago, he and his late business partner, Joel Henning, were insistent that “bonus equality” become a standard business practice. The year-end bonus pool was divided by the total number of employees and everyone got an equal share. This meant some employees got bonuses that were almost equal to their annual salary. (This also is a practice of aparigraha, or non-greed, which we will explore later.)

How often have you watched as others neglected to mention the efforts of all team members when it came time to give credit? Have you done it yourself? Accomplishment is almost always the result of many hands and minds working together. Why would you rob the whole by assigning credit to one or a handful of people? Practicing asteya allows everyone to be included and rewarded—and reflects the reality of achievement.

GIVING FREELY

As we talked to people about asteya in preparation for writing this book, we got a long list of answers when we asked folks about the ways it could be violated. Resources. Energy. Time. Optimism. Unfair wages. Reputation. One yogi said, “You can demand another’s respect or high regard, without even realizing that it is only something of worth when it is freely given.” Pondering the ways it is possible to violate asteya can be overwhelming, and the opportunities to do so can be obvious or subtle. But getting obsessive about non-stealing is not the point. Awareness is. What can be gained from noticing what is freely given, and what can be taken away without anyone even thinking about it as a theft?

To be sure, everyone is in charge of his or her own time, energy, motivation, and outlook. It is easy to lose sight of the fact that you and everyone you know are making choices about how to manage those things. It is equally easy to cast yourself as a victim when others make off with your time, sap your energy, and rob your peace of mind—even though you ultimately have control over how you deal with such circumstances. Practicing asteya will help you see what truly is of worth, be more mindful about using what you have, and honor that which belongs to others.

When Corinne landed a job in a large university after working alone for many years, she began noticing how easily asteya could be unwittingly violated. “Before this job, I had mostly worked on my own, and I never realized the chatter that goes on about other people,” she says. “I can’t say I’ve never succumbed to it myself, but when I think about this in terms of my yoga practice, I do think it is a violation of asteya. We are being paid to do work. Gossiping not only steals time away from work, it also can be a form of stealing people’s morale. If I go even deeper, I also feel like we’re robbing the person being talked about of their whole self. I have to catch myself and say, ‘That’s not okay.’”

For a long time, Corinne stayed silent as others chattered around her, because she didn’t want to “come off as being too motherly or superior by pointing out what is going on. These days, I tend to speak up. I try to do it kindly, but ultimately, I don’t see how it is useful for people to spend their time at work this way.”

Five suggestions for practicing asteya

1. Create a time log for a day or a week, and note each time you are late to a meeting, spend time talking about things that distract from your work, send a lengthy email when a short answer would do, etc. How much time was lost to such activities?

2. List things that might be viewed as “taking what is not freely given.” Next to each item on your list, jot a few notes about what is lost when you or others unconsciously “steal” something that is on the list.

3. Choose a habit to give up or create that would help you live out the precept of asteya. Focus on it for three weeks. Journal about what changes.

4. Make a list of what you would gain and what you might lose if you committed to practicing asteya.

5. Share your intentions to practice asteya with a few trusted coworkers, and ask them to give you feedback when they see you doing things that are not aligned with those intentions.

 

NON-SQUANDERING OF VITAL ENERGIES (Brahmacharya)

Continence, restraint

The two paths lie in front of the man.
Pondering on them, the wise chooses the path
of joy; the fool takes the path of pleasure.

From the Katha Upanishad

Dina was browsing in the boutique of a trendy, popular yoga studio in Scottsdale, Arizona. She’d arrived early for the Saturday morning class because it often got crowded and she wanted to snag her favorite spot near the door. But the previous class was still in savasana, and the studio doors were closed. As she perused the merchandise on the sale rack, she overheard the conversation of two men in their early twenties. One had expressed surprise to see the other.

“After I left you last night, I figured you’d be too wasted to show up for an early yoga class,” said the first young man. His friend laughed, admitted he was fried, then began to chronicle the exploits of a Friday-night bar hop.

As the studio doors opened at last, Dina caught the tail end of the men’s conversation as she gathered up her things to go in. “That sounds like a wild and crazy night, man,” said the first young man. “You must be exhausted.”

“I am definitely tired, but I didn’t want to miss this class,” was his friend’s reply. “I’m going out again tonight, and I need to detox to retox.”

Brahmacharya is probably the most notorious of the yamas. It’s frequently framed as a command for celibacy, particularly for men (which affects women, of course!). In ancient times, the “voluntary loss of semen” was seen as squandering precious vital energy that was better expended on devotion to God, self-realization, and absorption. Swami Sivananda emphasized this aspect: “Brahmacharya is absolute freedom from sexual thoughts and desires. It is the vow of celibacy. It is control of all the senses in thought, word, and deed.”

It is hard to imagine that the ideal reflected in the first part of his statement is always desirable or could be easily achieved—in ancient times or modern. Most modern yoga scholars acknowledge that interpretations of brahmacharya that center on celibacy or on sexual activity for procreation only are too narrow and impractical. Most yoga practitioners are householders who have no intention of taking monastic vows.

Indeed, the yoga world has not been immune from sex scandals, including some that involved high-profile gurus known for their preaching about sexual chastity. Talking about this precept, a yogini we interviewed for the book said, “I find it distracting and disingenuous to take sex advice from people who have been involved in sex scandals.”

Her point is well taken, and sex scandals have become such a part of the cultural fabric that many people have developed a callous attitude about them. No one, including us, wants to condone bad behavior, but in our view it’s also important to separate teachings from the fallible human beings who teach. While many have succumbed to temptation, the Sutra itself is clear that sexual energy should be mindfully harnessed.

Mahatma Gandhi, who experimented with celibacy in his later life, talked about brahmacharya as “control of the senses in thought, word, and deed. There is no limit to the possibilities of renunciations.… For many, it must remain as only an ideal.”

Nischala Joy Devi, a doctor, yogini, and author who studied with yogi sage Swami Satchidananda for twenty-five years, translates brahmacharya as “living a balanced and moderate life.” We also like the practicality in the definition used by Jaganath Carrera in his book Inside the Yoga Sutras: A Comprehensive Source. He explains the precept as “the avoidance of non-productive expenditures of energy.”

SEX AND THE WORKPLACE

Swami Satchidananda advised that by practicing sexual continence, “we preserve not just physical energy alone, but mental, moral, intellectual, and ultimately, spiritual energy as well.” It’s easy to lose sight of that in modern culture.

Films and television, books and magazines bombard us with stories of sexual intrigue in the workplace. The popular series Mad Men, for example, is an example of brahmacharya violation run amok: chain-smoking, cocktails at 10 A.M., trysts in hotel rooms during the lunch hour, and males and females leering at each other in ways that tell you work is not the central thing on their minds. That sort of human drama provides limitless possibilities for popular entertainment. But such shows also demonstrate how “absent” these people are from their work—literally and figuratively. (Also in the absentee column are ahimsa, satya, and other yogic precepts.) The consequences of the characters’ actions engender a great deal of human misery that is representative of what exists in the real work world. Stories abound of the ways office affairs and romantic entanglements have wreaked havoc with people’s lives and the work environment. We have experienced it ourselves. In my younger days, for instance, I was far too cavalier about the power of sexual attraction and rarely gave sufficient consideration and respect to the myriad consequences that could unfold from making unwise choices in this arena.

This precept doesn’t require that you abandon a healthy sex life or the hope of finding your soulmate at work. Because people spend a majority of their time on the job, it’s often the most likely place to meet people. This brings up three serious considerations for the practice of brahmacharya—flirting and dating, honoring committed relationships in the workplace, and developing healthy relationships with coworkers. Sexual attraction is a powerful urge and a powerful force, and sex is an act of intimacy and potential creation. The karmic consequences are almost impossible to predict in the early throes of attraction. When you bring this aspect of being human into the workplace, it is advisable to be thoroughly mindful about it.

Elizabeth held several corporate jobs before becoming a full-time yoga instructor in 2006. She is happily married now, but recalls the thrill of the romantic conquests she once had at her office job. Flirting, dating, becoming entangled with someone new was fun, and made her more interested in work—sort of. In the beginning of the relationships, when things were new and exciting, “The anticipation of seeing that special someone meant I couldn’t wait to get to work. And I think I saw myself as wanting to be a better employee, but mostly so the boss would praise me, which would make me look even better to my suitor.”

Unfortunately, when the relationships went awry, she had the opposite reaction, and work was the last place she wanted to show up. “I wouldn’t even want to take a shower, much less go to work. And when I got there, instead of being productive, I would sit around thinking about that person all day. I’d be sad, disgruntled, and hard to get along with.”

Relationships can cause difficulties “even when they last forever,” notes Elizabeth, and we can speak to that personally. It takes constant vigilance for Jamie and me not to let our personal issues spill over into our business partnership, and we’re not always successful. Obviously, we can’t in good faith say that people in an intimate relationship should never work together. But we do see the wisdom of brahmacharya and being extra mindful about the consequences of unleashing your sexual energy at work.

CONTROL AND CONSEQUENCES

Maureen Dolan, a professor at DePaul University and an ordained priest in the Kriya Yoga tradition, says the essence of brahmacharya is a practice of sexual responsibility. Living this practice means taking control of your sexual and emotional urges and considering the consequences before you act on them.

“For those who have taken a vow of celibacy, it means refraining from sexual activity. For those who have a partner, it means fidelity. For those who are single and engaged in sexual activity, it means practicing safe sex by taking precautions to avoid disease and unwanted pregnancy,” says Dolan, who writes for YogaChicago using her ordination name, Swami Shraddhananda.

Taking action against rape, sexual harassment, molestation, or other sexual violence or irresponsibility also is brahmacharya. If you see someone being sexually harassed in the workplace, brahmacharya would ask you to act. Dolan adds, “You wouldn’t just walk away from someone being sexually abused. You would be compelled to do something about it.”

Embracing and integrating the other yamas—ahimsa (non-violence), satya (truth-telling) and asteya (non-stealing)—will help you live out brahmacharya and naturally guides your approach to relationships at work. Embracing these precepts culminates in healthy, respectful relationships that center on your well-being, as well as that of coworkers and the work environment.

CONTROLLING CRAVINGS

Brahmacharya also speaks to controlling sensual cravings—those deep longings or yearnings we have to satisfy one or more of our senses. When you consistently cave in to your cravings, it fosters creation of unhealthy habits that facilitate non-productive expenditures of energy. Yearnings are not necessarily a bad thing. A useful question when it comes to these desires and habits is “Who is in control, and how does this craving serve me?” If you are expending energy on things that don’t really contribute to developing your potential, that waste time, harm your health, or interfere with good relationships, that runs counter to the practice of brahmacharya.

Charles Duhigg, a reporter at the New York Times, wrote about enslavement to a mid-afternoon chocolate chip cookie habit in his book, The Power of Habit: Why We Do What We Do in Life and Business. Over time, his cookie cravings caused him to gain eight pounds and eventually got the attention of his wife, who began making pointed comments.

As Duhigg set out to understand the intractability of habits, he did a series of experiments that revealed a surprising conclusion. He discovered his craving was attached to a reward, but it wasn’t the cookie. It was the socializing he did when he ate the cookie. Once he discovered what the true reward was, he was able to replace the mid-afternoon sugar fix with a quick stretch at his desk and a chat with a nearby coworker. After a few minutes, refreshed by the break, he returned to work. His cookie cravings went away, he gained time, lost weight, and we presume, his wife’s pointed remarks were directed elsewhere.

Duhigg’s findings illustrate the power of habits, or samskaras, described by Dr. Timothy McCall, the medical editor of Yoga Journal, as “thoughts, words, and deeds that are repeated over and over” even when they don’t serve us. These samskaras actually etch themselves into your brain. Research has shown that changing or breaking habits changes brain patterns, creating new neural pathways. Some cravings are esoteric and more difficult to see—a hunger for power, for example. A voracious appetite for attention or affection, or pining for praise from your boss and coworkers all have ramifications for how you approach your work.

An existence free of cravings releases “a vital energy of consciousness,” according to Swami Jnaneshvara Bharati, an American-born yogi who was ordained a monk by Swami Rama in 1993. Your strength, capacity, and vitality all benefit from a strong practice, he says.

Jacob, an executive leadership coach and yoga practitioner, uses this concept with clients, although he doesn’t tell them it is brahmacharya: “I emphasize how important it is not to waste their physical and mental energy on thoughts, actions, and activities that are either out of their control or not in service of their intentions. These are all distractions from the ‘being’ they are trying to cultivate.”

Five suggesions for practing brahmacharya

1. Spend a week noticing interactions between the genders at your workplace. Do you see flirting? Assertion of power based on gender? Stereotyping? Make a list of what you notice. How do these interactions serve or interfere with effectiveness and productivity?

2. Make a list of the sensual cravings that are nonproductive or interfere with health or well-being. Observe for a few days when they assert themselves, and note the time and place. Can you identify the reward that comes from satisfying the craving? Jot down some notes on why that reward is so compelling.

3. Make a list of some of the consequences of satisfying your cravings. Looking over the long term, what benefits have resulted? Have any of them borne consequences you’re not happy about?

4. Spend a day or two keeping track of thoughts, impressions, and comments you make about the opposite sex. How many could be considered sexually provocative? Jot a few notes about your experience. What do you notice?

5. What do you stand to gain by managing your sexual energy and controlling your senses at work? What do you stand to lose?

 

NON-GREED (Aparigraha)

Generosity, living simply

Affluence is not a matter of what you have but
what you don’t lack. If your needs are satisfied,
that is the ultimate state of affluence.

Pico Iyer

While traveling in Chicago several years ago, I attended a yoga class in a small studio. As the room became crowded, people looked around uncertainly, trying to find space to put down their mats. In the front corner of the room, one early arrival had created a commodious compound on the wood floor, surrounding her mat with a barricade of props. Sitting serenely on her mat in lotus pose, head bent and eyes shut, she seemed oblivious to the whispering and shuffling of mats, blankets, and bolsters as people tried to create a place for others to practice in a room filled almost to capacity.

Finally a brave soul knelt beside the woman, interrupting her reverie with a slight touch to the shoulder. “Please excuse me,” she whispered. “Would you mind moving your mat over a little so I have a place to put mine? We’ve run out of space.”

The woman’s head jerked up, her eyebrows slammed together, and she retorted through tight lips, “No, I won’t! I get here early on purpose so I have plenty of room for my practice. Maybe you should try it.”

In the tense silence that followed, the would-be practitioner, her face hot and unhappy, hastily gathered her things and fled from the class.

When Jamie and I got married, we asked a friend to sing Don Henley’s “For My Wedding” just before we took our vows. It’s an unconventional choice—the song talks about setting aside romantic sentimentality and recognizing the difficult and serious endeavor of marriage. I particularly love the beginning of the chorus, which speaks to the practice of aparigraha: “To want what I have, to take what I’m given, with grace.” Aparigraha is about that. It asks you not to covet, or hoard, or possess more than you truly need.

When your gaze becomes fixed on gratitude for what you have, it is easier to curb your appetite to acquire. Cultivating a willingness to share resources, viewing them as abundant rather than scarce, creates a healthy detachment that ultimately benefits the whole community as well as you. No matter how vast the world’s resources may be, if we are taking more than we need, we are depriving or exploiting someone else.

The modern work landscape is littered with object lessons of human greed as a key motivator. Wealth is often seen as the sign of success, a shiny golden bauble that, if captured, guarantees comfort and happiness. Once riches are acquired, it becomes easier to rationalize that those who lack the necessities are in that state solely because of their bad choices or because they lack a work ethic.

The wanton pursuit of wealth is one of the key sources of global misery, and in reality, not a sustainable business practice. Natural resources are controlled by the rich and powerful, while those who work to mine, harvest, and collect often barely get by. Economies are based on an engine fueled by ever-increasing consumption. Advertising bombards us with messages of more, more, MORE and we listen, with no regard as to whether we already have enough. Taking what we want, instead of what we need, has ravaged the planet that our lives depend on, putting all living beings in jeopardy.

WORK MOTIVATED BY LOVE AND SERVICE

At many workplaces, practicing aparigraha would call for a fairly radical collective mind shift. The world of work most people grew up in reveres the shiny golden bauble and sees grasping at it, achieving it, as proof of hard work. In the United States, consumer spending is considered a “production” statistic. Acquisition is applauded. People explain this tendency toward greed as merely “human nature.” When people made this argument to yoga sage Eknath Easwaran, he would gently disagree:

You are debasing human nature. I am elevating it. The best work is done not though the profit motive but through love.… We have such affluence and abundance in this beautiful land that I cannot understand why there is poverty, why children should be without food and shelter, why millions of men and women, skilled and ready to work, are unable to get jobs. Even an untrained economist like me cannot fail to see that this is not an economic order, but an economic disorder.

There is a divine aspect to work in both process and outcome. The dharma, or purpose, of business is to “create wealth for the society and serve the customer,” says M. S. Srinivasan, a yoga scholar, but only as long as the work engaged is virtuous.

CONFUSING PLEASURE AND PROFITS WITH PURPOSE

In the Sutras, Patanjali talks about asmita, a type of ignorance that confuses the physical body and conscious mind with the higher, divine self, or spirit. One of the ways this manifests, says Marzenna Jakubczak in a 2004 article published in the Journal of Human Values, is through the mind saying, “This is mine. This is mine. This should be mine.” It becomes a mantra.

When you’re motivated by the need for pleasure or ego satisfaction, you find a way to justify the sacrifice of almost anything, including your integrity, your dignity, or the respect of loved ones. People who are ruled by greed won’t be able to help themselves. They covet, deceive, and hoard “in the hope that pleasure may be repeated, prolonged, or perpetuated forever,” Jakubczak says. But that pleasure does not necessarily result in happiness.

Research has provided scientific evidence that, once basic needs are met, there is little correlation between the amount of money possessed and reported happiness. Indeed, people are more likely to find happiness and satisfaction by sharing what they have rather than hoarding it. In a study done by Elizabeth Dunn of the University of British Columbia and Michael Norton of the Harvard Business School, researchers asked students to hand out $20 bills to people. Half of the recipients were instructed to buy something for themselves, the other half to spend it on someone else or give it away. In the follow-up, “those whom we told to spend on others report greater happiness than those told to spend on themselves,” Dunn and Norton wrote in a New York Times article. “And in countries from Canada to India to South Africa, we find that people are happier when they spend money on others rather than on themselves.”

The false belief that causes people to chase wealth robs them of other valuable things, such as time and energy that could be invested in things that truly bring happiness. Like family. Like hobbies and the pursuit of knowledge or skills. Or volunteer work for a church or worthy cause.

Practicing aparigraha does not ask that you set aside your natural desire for fulfillment and well-being, aspiration and ambition. It does, however, make a distinction between working for what you need to survive and thrive, and the temporary pleasure of acquisition for its own sake. Eknath Easwaran again: “I am not suggesting there is anything wrong in a businessperson making enough profit to support his or her family in comfort—everyone should have this opportunity. But we have exaggerated the importance of profit out of all proportion to its natural place in business. We have become addicted to it, and that is a very dangerous situation.”

In his Conquest of the Mind he adds, “I am not pleading for poverty but praising simplicity.”

IMPLICATIONS AT WORK

The ways people have been asked to work, and the systems and procedures that have been designed to keep work moving, typically don’t foster a perspective of abundance.

Think about the ways people view and manage their budgets at work. As the end of a fiscal year approaches, what happens if there is money left unspent? You must find ways spend it! It seems foolish to do otherwise when the system tells you that if you don’t spend it now, you will be deprived later. And what if you were to suggest giving your department’s surplus to another department that is facing a shortfall? Well, that’s just crazy talk.

Money is where the mind goes first, but the practice of aparigraha at work is about more than getting your hands on lavish amounts of lucre. Consider how easy it is to get attached to things that don’t even really belong to you: my office, my desk, my supplies, my project, my budget. We recently worked in an organization where several people were deeply unhappy in the wake of reorganization that meant some managers would lose their offices and have to work in cubicles. I was sympathetic—I remember similar feelings of loss and umbrage in a similar situation at a newspaper where I worked. But if you can learn to be resolute to the impermanence of everything, and understand that material stuff doesn’t really matter, you’ll avert self-inflicted suffering.

At her restaurant job, Rebecca says people often view the work itself from a scarcity perspective, even in times of abundance. The trendy restaurant where she works is always crowded. People show up to dine early to make sure they get in, and on the weekends, people line up in the street, waiting anxiously for a table. With all these big-spending customers, servers make good money, yet the grumbling grows when the owners announce they will be hiring new people to ensure top-notch service.

People get squirrelly, Rebecca says. They think about what they might lose without considering that those hired also need to make a living. And it doesn’t stop there. “I’ve seen people who are just obsessed about who has what shift, and which section. Honestly, they’re not even thinking about the numbers realistically. [The restaurant owners] hire more people to handle the business because it is growing. That allows us serve more people efficiently, which helps ensure the success of the restaurant. In the long run, it doesn’t really end up affecting anyone in a financially negative way. But people choose to go around unhappy when they could choose to be grateful for the good living they are making.”

LEARNING TO LET GO OF YEARNING

Rebecca says if she is not attentive to her practice, the “attitude of gratitude” she tries to cultivate can quickly devolve into attachment to wanting more than she needs. Yoga helps her keep things in perspective—the way she chooses to view tips is an example. The staff pools all tips, and at the end of a shift, the manager divvies proceeds among those who worked. The system is designed to foster teamwork and better customer service. Even so, people get consumed with the number next to “gratuity” every time they look at a paid bill.

“Most of the servers go around celebrating or complaining about every single tip they get. For a long time, I was making myself crazy by doing it, too. If I didn’t get the tip I thought I deserved, I’d start fuming about it.” Then she started paying attention to what was actually happening.

“You know what? It always evens out at the end of the night,” Rebecca says. “We always go away with 18 to 20 percent in tips. So why do I want to make myself unhappy if one tip isn’t as much as I think it should be? Now I try not to look at what my customers left. In the end, it doesn’t matter, because I want to give everyone my best service based on who I want to be, not what tip they might give.”

Do you yearn for the status that a corner office gives you? Are you unhappy unless you have the latest, greatest technology? Maybe your job depends on the latest version of the current Big Thing, but can you make the distinction between that and lobbying for an upgrade just to satisfy your desire to be cutting edge? Do you deprive your family of time and attention in order to have a bigger house, better vacations, the latest clothes and gadgets? Attachment to anything—perks, a parking spot, a promotion, more stuff—rolls you away from aparigraha.

Observing aparigraha becomes easier when we can learn to stay in the moment, with a clear vision of where we are and what we need right now. Letting go of attachments—to our desires, to material objects, to the need for attention—is easier when you “want what you have, and take what you’re given with grace,” as the lyrics to Don Henley’s song point out. It fuels a more equitable distribution of resources, and douses the flames of envy and dissatisfaction.

Rebecca says aparigraha practice has helped shift her perspective about why she works. “I’m there to create a good experience for my customers. My yoga practice has helped me see that everything always works out. The more we trust, the less we need to worry. I am earning a good living. I can pay my bills and support my son. I can manage. It’s enough.”

Five suggestions for practicing aparigraha

1. Make a list of the reasons you work. Put them in order of importance. What do you notice?

2. Reflect on what would change if you operated from a view of abundance rather than scarcity. What are the internal and external pressures that keep you from “wanting what you have”?

3. Keep a gratitude journal. On a regular basis, take a few minutes at work to jot down at least one thing for which you can be thankful.

4. When the desire for something you do not have arises, examine your motivations about acquiring it: “Is this truly a need or just a want? Why do I want it? How will my life be better by acquiring this? Could I be content with what I have now?”

5. Commit to a daily generous act at work, giving something and expecting nothing in return.