Do not read this
on finding support for being good
I really dislike being told what I can’t do.
Humans turn to religious texts like the Bible, the Quran, the Torah for guidance on how to live. In the Yoga tradition, practitioners often turn to the Yoga Sutra for inspiration. From these texts we get the Ten Commandments in the Bible, similar ethical and moral principles throughout the Quran, the Ten Statements in the Torah, and the Yamas and Niyamas from the Yoga Sutra. Overwhelmingly, the statements and principles for living spiritual, moral lives begin with DO NOT.
Do not worship any other God.
Do not kill or be violent.
Do not commit adultery.
Do not steal.
Do not be greedy.
Do not lie.
Do not.
Do not.
Do not.
So what are we supposed to do?
The religious texts offer a few ideas. Honor your parents. Respect the holy day. Tell the truth.
The Niyamas go a bit further: be clean, be disciplined in your spiritual practice, study the texts and yourself, and surrender your own free will. But none of these texts offer a handy “10 Things You Can Do Right Now To Be a Good Person” listicle.
I personally prefer an interpretation of the Yoga Sutra that defines each Yama as its positive correlation. The first Yama, ahimsa, commonly defined as non-violence, becomes compassion. If you tell someone to not be violent and another person to be compassionate, you’ll get two very different responses. Cultivating compassion is a far more potent determinant of goodness than constantly worrying about doing something wrong, suppressing emotions, or checking yourself. Practicing compassion empowers. Practicing not being violent creates passivity. Passivity, by the way, is exactly what those in power want from their followers.
Positive morals like kindness or service are embedded in every religion but they’re demonstrated through story and myth rather than declared outright. Story plays a foundational role in a child’s—and even many adults’—moral growth and development. I personally did not grow up hearing many of the Bible stories. My family attended church sporadically; I don’t have fond memories of Sunday school or Vacation Bible School. The stories didn’t resonate, weren’t repeated often enough, and didn’t stick. I’m still a good person (I think) but religion wasn’t the vehicle through which goodness gestated. The latest data pegs the religiously non-affiliated at almost 30% of Americans. I know I’m not alone in growing up without these foundational stories and myths. Parenting plays a big role in teaching goodness, but who’s supporting and guiding the parents?
There is psychology around “do not” language. The “ironic process theory” states that when you tell someone to not do something they think about what they’re not supposed to do more than what they are supposed to do. The famous example is “do not run.” If you tell a child do not run, they skip the “do not” part and hear RUN! But if you tell the child to walk instead, they know exactly what they need to do.
I was taught this in my yoga teacher trainings. It’s not helpful to tell a student what not to do. Just tell them exactly what you want them to do. Instead of cueing, “don’t let your knee move beyond your ankle,” say, “stack your knee over your ankle.” (By the way this is a terrible cue, your knee can be wherever it’s comfortable.) As a yoga teacher trainer, I frequently got frustrated when students would come to me pleading, “just tell me what to do.” They didn’t want to think. I’m guilty of this too. It’s way easier for someone to just tell you the answer. But that’s not working the brain. That’s rote memorization and robotic doing for the sake of checking something off a list. There is no heart, no thought, no chance for innovation or originality. That’s boring. And dangerous. We don’t want a nation of sheep—well I don’t, the people in power do. We’re now seeing the effects of that play out in real time outside our front doors.
Millenials are arguably already lazyish when it comes to figuring stuff out for ourselves. Why think when you have the Internet at your fingertips to help you find the answer? Each successive generation is only going to get worse. See: attention spans. Classic children’s stories like Wind in the Willows, Wizard of Oz, and Mary Poppins are being replaced by graphic novels like Dog Man and Captain Underpants. Conan O’Brien made a joke at the Oscar’s last week about changing video formats to fit vertical phone screens. It’s not funny.
My children’s favorite books right now are Fancy Nancy, which embeds some lessons about sharing and being a good friend but places far more emphasis on the excitement of being fancy; The Book with No Pictures, which is supposed to be about helping kids understand that books with no pictures can still be fun and you should learn how to read but really is just about getting adults to make funny noises; and Cloud Puppy, also a book that includes lessons on friendship, but as it’s a graphic novel, places far more emphasis on the pictures and playing video games. My kids aren’t necessarily taking away any great moral lessons from these books. They’re being entertained. When I choose sweet books that do have lessons, they nod, smile and move on to the next thing. I imagine it’s getting through, but is it sticking?
The current children’s book bestsellers include:
Dragons Love Tacos, which is literally about dragons loving tacos and hating spicy salsa. End of story. No lesson other than, maybe—but this is a huge stretch—respect people’s preferences.
A book about the K-Pop Demon Hunters.
Mostly seasonal stories about catching Easter Bunnies and Leprachauns, which, honestly, I’m here for. If the lesson is to celebrate the seasons, I’m all-in. But that doesn’t necessarily reinforce being a good person.
Kids aren’t reading as much as they used to. They’re listening and watching. I heard multiple of my son’s first grade classmates state they want to be famous YouTubers when they grow up. Twitter came along and asked us to be concise. Then Instagram asked us to forget about the words and just make your life look pretty. Now it’s all about making your life a reel. Recommended length for a TikTok is 30 seconds. YouTubers—random people who often have no real expertise other than the audacity to turn the camera on themselves and hawk stuff for fame, money, and power—become famous telling people what to do.
How do we teach the morals and lessons of life in 30 seconds or less? What are the relevant stories we need to adapt to get kids to be kind, helpful, compassionate, empathetic, critical thinkers? Is it worth decoupling those stories from the baggage of religion or do we need to double down on insisting spiritual life is an important virtue?
Where do adults and kids alike find the support for becoming a good person? Where are our accountability partners if the church is too busy telling us what not to do and the classic stories and their lessons aren’t getting through? Another way of asking this question is, where is the village? American pride in individuality has led us astray, away from the very (messy) structures we need to maintain support for becoming the best versions of ourselves.
What do you think? I’d love to know.
Update from last week’s post
In case you were wondering, and because I promised I’d report back after last week’s post, 50% of the party attendees did not follow instructions. The most random, but of course most played with, gift/piece of junk was a card shuffler. For a 7-year-old. Why? I do not need this in my house.
Reasons to Celebrate
Sunday, March 22
Bavarian Crepes Day
Talk Like William Shakespeare Day
Monday, March 23
National Chip and Dip Day
National Chia Day
Tuesday, March 24
International Day for Achievers
National Chocolate Covered Raisin Day
Wednesday, March 25
International Waffle Day
Thursday, March 26
Make Up Your Own Holiday Day
Live Long and Prosper Day
Friday, March 27
Scribble Day
National Spanish Paella Day
World Theater Day
Saturday, March 28
National Weed Appreciation Day (the garden weed, not the pot kind).
National Black Forest Cake Day
With gratitude,
Ashley