The Policy of Truth

I don’t know what my first words were but I know it took me a long time to finally say them. The earliest account I have of myself speaking, where I must have been about age four, is a story in which I tell a lie. As the story goes, I’d been left alone to play and upon my mother’s return, there was a puddle of urine on the floor. When asked about the pee, I blamed it on the bees. I can only assume I’d hoped they would get punished and never bother me again. Whatever the reason, it was untrue. Though like everyone else, I was always encouraged to be truthful, it was a cute little machiavellian lie, easy for a mother to forgive. 

Whether by religious conviction, philosophical tradition, or just basic decency, we’re all doubtlessly compelled to be honest. Buddhism and Taoism alike have a basic code of ethics, known as The Five Precepts, in which false speech is considered taboo. Shintō, though it has no moral absolutes, establishes honesty as the highest of virtues. Zoroastrianism? It also considers truthfulness to be a cardinal concept. 

All of the Abrahamic religions condemn lying. Not only does Islam preach against false speech, but also against betrayal and broken promises. And it doesn’t matter if you grew up Jewish or in the Christian tradition, like I did, because either way you may well remember that “bearing false witness” isn’t just rude - it’s an ABOMINATION. 

Though yoga is more like an overgrown labyrinth of philosophical traditions than anything religious, it still has its views on honesty. A couple thousand years ago, a system of practice was codified with the goal of self-realization known as Yoga Ashtanga, or The Eight Limbs of Yoga - which is still widely practiced by yogis everywhere. The first rule of Yoga Club is a set of restraints called the “yamas”. I covered the first yama, Ahimsa (non-harming), in my previous post. Organized this way, it’s natural to infer that, when in doubt, refer back to ahimsa and proceed from there. The second Yama, Satya (truthfulness), goes on to encourage practitioners to be honest with themselves and others. Considering how The Absolute Truth can often be harmful, I don’t think it’s an accident that these tenets were listed in this order. And it is precisely for this reason that it has been so difficult, and has taken so much time, for me to post this post. 

When I first considered writing on this topic, I had a strong and immediate impulse to “come out” about a truth that I’d kept secret from my family and many acquaintances for years. But then, a-ha! Ahimsa. What if I disappointed, or worse yet, hurt those close to me with an unnecessary admission? The more I unpacked that idea, the more I convinced myself that the heart of Satya concerned truths more essential than secrets, desires, beliefs… not to mention, far more essential than who is REALLY behind some vaccine or even the REAL shape of the earth. There are so many things we seem to enjoy getting worked up over these days, and surely Satya is much less exciting than all that. 

Looking at the original Sanskrit, the root of Satya, “sat“ means ‘being’, ‘that which is’, or ‘that which exists’. This must necessarily mean that Satya isn’t about dogma, interpretation, or discernment: this is about direct knowledge. If one considers what is directly, unequivocally known for long enough, it becomes evident that what is actually, directly known, is really very limited. Sound is heard. Sight is seen. Touch, vibration, sensation… sense of self. 

And suddenly it was clear. I was deliberately muddying the definition. Satya simply encourages practitioners to act with integrity - to speak and communicate things as they actually are, not as they wish them to be. And I have been wishing things to be different to avoid saying things I didn’t want to say. I didn’t want to say them in hopes of protecting others from their own fears. Because I love them. It seems absurd how I’ve been so very open about it with most people for years yet with others, namely family, I’ve kept this secret. It does no one any good, least of all me - I’ve even heard that secrets keep us sick. And there it is again, Ahimsa. 

It almost seems silly to admit what “it” is at this point, especially here. The majority of people who know me or who might read this wouldn’t even suspect that I had an inner conflict anything like this. And yet isn’t it worth letting your experience be known? The admission is simply this: I’ve been an agnostic for most of my life, if not a complete atheist. I’ve endured passive shaming for years from those who have certainly already guessed, if not known outright. And well into my adult life I’ve kept it hidden in plain sight, clumsily obfuscating, and even outright lying to hide the inner knowing of my unknowing and the acceptance of my own disbelief. 

The bohemian Realist, Stephen Crane sums up my sense of it all here:

“Truth,” said a traveller,

“Is a rock, a mighty fortress; 

“Often have I been to it, 

“Even to its highest tower, 

“From whence the world looks black.”

“Truth," said a traveller, 

“Is a breath, a wind, 

“A shadow, a phantom; 

“Long have I pursued it, 

“But never have I touched 

“The hem of its garment.”

And I believed the second traveller; 

For truth was to me 

A breath, a wind, 

A shadow, a phantom, 

And never had I touched 

The hem of its garment.

Thanks for reading. I’d love to hear from you. Thanks for being here. May you be happy, may you be healthy, and may you be at peace.