In second grade, my teacher would pass back our assignment papers at the end of each school day. Our wrong answers would be circled in dark red colored pencil. One day, I got back a math worksheet with a lot of red circles! I looked at the sheet and knew why I got the answers wrong, so I began to correct the sheet. My neighbor, a girl that I won’t call a friend, said to me “You can’t do that! You can’t change the answers! I am going to tell the teacher.” I was pretty terrified to get in trouble with the teacher, so I begged her not to tell. She said to me “Well, I won’t tell if you give me your chips every day at lunch.” I agreed to this deal, hoping it would keep my secret safe.

Weeks went by, and each day I dreaded lunch time. This school-mate would stand by my desk and wait for her prize. One day, my mom told me we were out of chips so she would have to pack raisins instead. I cried: “Mom, you have to pack my chips! I can’t go to school without chips!” I was so adamant, my Mom’s psychic senses started to tingle. She asked me what was going on: why was I so upset about the chips? So I broke down and told her what happened.

Mom was pretty angry and she told me straight up: “You tell that girl you won’t be giving her your chips anymore. She can go ahead and tell the teacher what you did. You didn’t do anything wrong. Don’t be afraid of the truth.” Mom said if I didn’t tell her, that she would go to school and talk to the teacher herself.

So the next day at school, when my hungry neighbor asked for my chips, I called on every ounce of internal strength I had and I said to her: “Go ahead and tell the teacher. I don’t even care, but I am NOT going to give you my chips anymore.” She got up from her desk and started to slowly walk towards the teacher’s desk. My heart raced. But on her way to the front of the room, she knocked over a big stack of papers. The teacher yelled at her to pick up that mess and go back to her desk.

Later that day, I went up to the teacher and told her that sometimes I corrected the answers when I got my papers back. She told me there was nothing wrong with that, and it helped me to learn from my mistakes. My secret was revealed and I was relieved! Even at that young age, I learned that holding something inside from fear of being exposed was not worth it, and that just telling the truth was the best route for me. I still feel this way today. I would rather let the truth be told, as fairly as I can, and deal with the repercussions than to hold a lie inside.

The second of the Yamas, the social ethics of yoga, is Satya, truth. One of my favorite translations of the Yoga Sutras, Yoga Power and Spirit by Alberto Villoldo, includes this sutra about truth: "Satya: Be true to your word and you will acquire the power of truth. Whatever you speaks becomes so.” (sutra 2.36).

I do believe in the adage—honesty is the best policy. It isn’t always the easiest or the painless option, but it is so much better than trying to cover up a lie. Mahatma Gandhi was an avid follower of satya. He named his work towards Indian Independence and justice from the British “satyagraha,” truth-force. Satyagraha was the essence of his non-violent resistance and political action. He defined truth as “doing what is right.” He believed that satyagraha was the necessary tool for all social, economic, political, and religious conflict.

Practicing satya means being truthful in our words, our thoughts, our actions, and feelings. It means speaking up as the right thing to do in each moment. It means being honest with ourselves and with others. When we are truly and deeply honest, we can live more fearlessly. Keeping the first Yama, ahimsa, in mind, practicing satya means we speak the truth from the framework of ahimsa, as non-harmful as possible. We first try to cause no harm, and then we speak the truth from that space. It is also important to remember that yoga is a “practice not a perfect.” We won’t always, 100% of the time, be 100% truthful. We will make mistakes and accepting that fact is actually being honest with ourselves from the start.

Live in your truth and you will live without fear.

Have you lived a life lesson that taught you the value of satya—truth?

When have you wanted to tell the truth, but found it too difficult?

How truthful are you with yourself? When have you worked to convince yourself of a lie because that was easier than facing the truth?

These can be difficult questions to face. But sitting with them, journaling them, can be deep healing work.

Send me a note and tell me how that practice is working for you.