Satya

 Satya.  Truth.  A common interpretation of Satya is "The Truth that equals Love."  In his Yoga Sutras, Patanjali says "When one is firmly established in speaking the truth, the fruits of action become subservient to him." (Sutra 2.36).  This week, as I contemplate the second of Patanjali's Yamas, I find myself somewhat confused.  Not because I don't know what truth is...it's not-lying, right?  I perceive myself as an honest person...I'm not generally in the habit of lying, which is not to say that I have never lied...it's just that I don't do it often, and when I do happen to lie, I think it is with good reason.  But what is "with good reason" for me, is not always "with good reason" for someone else.

Perhaps an example will clarify.  Last week, I was practicing Ahimsa, or non-harming, which sort of means following a vegan diet (you know, non-harming the animals and all).  I wasn't strict about the veganism (hey, I'm being truthful!), but I did observe a vegetarian diet for the week.  In fact, until Christmas eve's Feast of the Seven Fishes, I was doing okay, but, I was technically on to Satya by that time, so eating a bit of meat wasn't the end of the world.  At said Feast, my friend's mother in law mentioned that they "don't ever eat meat on Christmas eve" as she tucked into the very, very delicious seafood salad. I did my very best to bite my tongue and not mention that, "Uhm, that seafood salad you're heaping on your plate is loaded with meat..."  I wasn't being untruthful - she knew what she was doing...I just didn't want to mince words over her definition of "meat" versus mine (and the rest of the known universe).  Earlier in the week, I made vegetarian chili using "Quorn" (a mushroom-based meat substitute, and quite delicious), and I urged my children to eat their "meat".  I also made a "BLT" using smoky-maple flavored tempeh.  I gave half to my husband and told him it was a BLT.  He wasn't fooled, and even enjoyed it, but I didn't give up the gig until after he'd had a bite and inquired, "Uhm, where's the bacon?"
So what is truth?  Is it conditional?  Are there degrees of truthfulness?  Are there times when it's appropriate to be untruthful?  I'm going to propose "Yes" to all three, even if I may be betraying the intent of Patanjali.  If I never experience Samadhi, I'll know it could be because of my lack of truth.

As I ponder my willingness to say it's conditional, it comes in degrees, and there are times when it's appropriate to be untruthful, it begs me to ask:  Is it okay to be untruthful as long as "no one gets hurt"?
On Christmas eve, I think it was appropriate to bite my tongue about the seafood not being "meat. The mood was merry and bright, and if I brought up the fact that my friend's MIL was wrong, it would have made her feel defensive, put a cloud over her meal (and probably everyone else's), and after all, it isn't the end of the world that she thought seafood wasn't meat.  This way, everyone stayed happy, unharmed.  If I had brought up the truth, not only would I have been perceived as being obnoxious (which I'd like to think is NOT my true nature!), I am sure that more than a few people would have been unhappy.

Now, I'm not going to go around, living my life, wondering if in each situation it's okay to get away with a lie or being untruthful.  Like I said before, I'm not in the habit of lying for lying's sake.  What I am saying is that in certain situations, a lie may not be the worst thing.  Am I "lying, with love"?  I think we have all experienced that.  When an acquaintance asks your opinion, sometimes it's easier to be complimentary rather than truthful.  When you're trying to get your kids (and husband!) to eat healthier, a little untruthfulness may not be the worst thing.  I can justify this as a version of the truth that equals love.  Can't I?


This above all; to thine own self be true.
And it must follow, as the night the day,
Thou canst not then be false to any man  - W.Shakespeare, Hamlet Act 1, scene 3