by Yogi Ananda Viraj (Eugene P. Kelly, Jr.)
Restraint or abstinence from theft is the third of the yamas. Vyasa defines asteya as “…the unauthorized (asastrapurvaka) appropriation of things of value (dravya) from another.”1 As with the other yamas and niyamas the practice of asteya is fundamentally concerned with the use of language. However, this may not be obvious to the neophyte.
The “appropriation” that Vyasa speaks of is a translation of the term svakaranam, which literally translated means “making (karanam) one’s own (sva) or “acquiring for oneself.” Theft would be the unauthorized acquisition of a substance, thing or object (dravya). Western tradition, as well as the tradition of Patanjali and Vyasa, prohibits stealing (steya). “Thou shalt not steal” is a dictum which is close to the heart of the yogin and yogini. Therefore, we may conclude that most yoga students hold theft to be a wrong. Taking things that do not belong to us is an obvious violation of asteya. However, desiring things that belong to others is not so obviously wrong. When we use the words “greed,” “rapacity,” and “avarice” we immediately feel aversion. But, when we say “eagerly desirous,” somehow this does not register the same feeling. We have, over hundreds of years, developed code words which serve to warn us of “wrong” or “evil” cravings. If one was to say, “I want more, I must be greedy,” this language is likely to elicit the language of change; “I shouldn’t be that way.” However, if we replace the word “greedy” with “desirous,” the linguistic response is not prone to be one of change, even though the “body feel” is one of deficiency-craving. In both cases the body condition is one of lack; however, in the first instance this lack was displaced by another language and hence another biology or feel was made present. The significance of this observation is that “code words” tend to obscure body-feelings through their non-use. Desire is not greed and hence one can continue to desire eagerly even though the accompanying “feel” is pain, discomfort, and a subtle form of masochism or self-violence. The stealing of an object is often viewed as satisfying this lack. The consequences of such a satisfaction only reinforce the greed or desire; hence, masochism prevails.
The desire, “I want what she has,” if not associated with a code word, even if not temporarily satisfied by theft, tends to go unrecognized. This non-recognition is the subtle form of theft. Tradition or the language of cultural restraint may stand in the way of an actual theft, but there are other means by which the reinforcement process completes itself. The languages of envy, hostility, displeasure and hatred are often deployed as vain attempts to fill the gap. “I want what she has” is itself the lack; painful biology will be its uncomfortable Siamese twin. This language, when retained, becomes the basis for the languages of envy, etc. The key to non- reinforcement is of course displacement (pratipaksa-bhavanam). Reflection on the violence involved in eager desire for another’s goods is one mode of the language of displacement. To supplant theft, in all its forms, is the function of asteya. This practice is the grammar: “I am glad she has what she has,” “I share in his happiness for owning that,” “I realize the consequences of greed and commit myself to eradicating greed from my life.” Any grammar used to obstruct or to oppose the grammar of theft is the practice of asteya.
Thus far we have been dealing with the apparent. Theft is a wrong and it is easy to observe the effects of an unsatisfied desire. If the language of deficiency is left to linger, it provides fertile ground for the growth of envy, greed, etc. The practice of asteya is employed to displace deficiency by installing a language which is the opposite of larceny in all its forms. This installation is the basis for the eradication of deficiency and greed. However, one is not often alerted to participation in the subtle forms of larceny. As we noted above, the stagnation of the language of deficiency, i.e. dwelling in such a language, is itself theft. The thought that wants is desire; the thought that wants what another has is theft. “Thus, abstinence from theft, when free from coveting (asprha), is the refusal to do this (steal).”2 Vyasa says that asteya practice must be asprha or non-coveting. Perhaps, if the often veiled subtleties of theft were uncovered, it would improve our powers of observation. This improvement facilitates the practice of asteya.
The language of coveting is the direct result of self-bifurcation. The fact that an other has is not what is immediately present as “sudden mind” or truth. In actuality, if what is immediately present is that an other has, coveting would be impossible. Sudden mind (satya) is the “real,” i.e. what is presented. Steya or theft is a retreat from this presentation. This retreat from truth is the space-moment wherein theft may occur. Let us exemplify. The neighbor has just obtained a new car and comes to show us his possession. The language that first arises may be, “I have a new car.” This language is the “real” (sat). This is what is heard. We do not immediately hear or know anything else. As listeners we do not speak or, in the immediate, think. “I have a new car” is not “He has a new car.” Self-bifurcation is movement from this immediate to what we may call our own “I.” The I that has is now divided by a kind of linguistic binary fission into two I’s (or more depending on the number of bodies present). There occurs a separation from “I have” which in many instances becomes “I don’t have.” The fission of the I often carries traces of its prior environment, in this case “…have a new car.” How ever, the new or bifurcated I, being identified with another body (what we would call our own body), “produces” a language that negates ownership of the car; “I don’t have….” This “not having” is the language of deficiency and deficiency, by definition or by its own nature, seeks fulfillment. It is not the case that there is non-linguistic deficiency or lack; both having and not having are language. If the deficit is sustained through promotion of its medium, which is language, then desire for “what another has” results.
Viewed from another angle, the “having” of the car is, to the bifurcated I, a residual of sudden mind. If this “having” is left to linger, desire follows. It is not that having is wrong; but the bifurcated I will in its turn undergo fission and the immediacy of having will become, in its trace form, wanting. Coveting is not noticing and eradicating this linguistic play. Binary fission will produce more I’s, each successively removed from having. If we visualize an echo, “seeing” each reverberation, one wave after another expanding away from the initial sound point, we have a fair analogue to the process of self-bifurcation. Each successive self carries traces of the original sound point, i.e. having. The further from the center, the sudden mind of “I have…,” the wider the wave becomes. The wider or more expansive the wave of bifurcation, the more diversified the contents of the language, i.e. the environments or media of I’s. This expansiveness is “filled” with language which separates I’s (persons) by way of body, biography, sensations, etc. “I have…” has now evolved to another I which does not have and successive I’s which may want. This is reverberation of language sound.
This larceny oriented fission is not to be viewed as a necessary plot in the game of have and have not. There is a simple and effective way of avoiding larceny. The practitioner of asteya simply emits an opposing sound point. This opposition sets up its own waves of bifurcation. These are, of course, asteya. “I am glad he has a new car” does not carry the traces or sediment of having. The I here is positing a language of happiness in another’s possessing; this obstructs the language of deficiency. No lack is felt; therefore, envy, coveting and larceny do not arise.
It is crucial to note that “sudden mind,” i.e. I have a new car,” did not produce larceny. It is the residue of “having” which, when coupled with bifurcated I’s, demands a negation in the form “I don’t have.” This negative condition is itself deficiency and deficiency is a context for desire. It is the moment of initial self bifurcation which is critical. The environment for the I must be one of asteya. If this practice is continued linguistic habits of a noble order will predominate. In yoga philosophy these habits are called aklista samskaras or beneficial thought potencies. Practice is positing. Asteya practice is positing noble thoughts or thoughts which warn of the dangers of envy, covetousness, greed, etc.
In yama and niyama practice one must become conscious of the proliferation of selves. I’s are continually dividing themselves, causing life to be defined by the nature of their ever changing linguistic environments. It is only through linguistic habits acquired in the past that I’s find themselves in and as detrimental situations. The responsibility of yoga students is to produce environments conducive to a general disposition of clarity or non-violence.
The yogin or yogini who has perfected the practice of asteya is no longer bound to the language structure of wanting another’s goods. Envy, covetousness and greed do not arise as psychic environments. In “not wanting,” valuables are presented, never desired. Asteya practice excludes any craving for what another has; therefore, what are considered valuable things ratna) can be presented only. Patanjali says “Upon being firmly established in asteya all jewels are presented.”3 How could they not be presented when the longing for them is non-existent, i.e. when the language of asteya excludes longing?
1. The Yoga System of Patanjali, 4th ed., trans. James Haughton Woods (India: Motllal Banars.idass, 1977 reprint), p. 178.↩
2. Ibid.↩
3. Ibid., p. 186.↩