Non-Compliance
In 2011, I spent the summer at the Kripalu Center in the Berkshires for my 200hr yoga teacher training. We were invited to a center-wide lecture exploring the ethical and moral codes modeled in Pantanjali’s Yoga Sutras, the Yamas and Niyamas. The speaker (whose name I sadly can’t remember for the life of me) started by saying that with all ancient lists or moral texts, the first and last guidelines tend to be the most important ones.
In this example he named the first Yama, Ahimsa (non-violence), as more important than the second Yama, Satya (truthfulness). I was shocked. Is truthfulness really less important than non-violence? At the time, some querent in the crowd asked the same question. The speaker’s reply was simple. If you were to see a bloodied person rushing down the street, panicked, take a right turn and rush out of sight, and then another, angrier, bloody-knuckled, person runs by and asks where that first person went…would you tell them right or left? Is there value in not replying at all and saying you didn’t see anything?
I didn’t know it then, but this was a classic example of non-compliance. In simply not responding to the second person in that scenario, we are refusing to participate in the dynamic present between those two people, whatever it may be.
The definition of non-compliance is a failure to act in accordance with a wish or a command. And there are so many ways in which we can find real power in being failures together.
So many of us are overwhelmed, overworked, and grappling with new uncertainties under this administration which makes showing up to day to day life challenging. Within my community, most everyone I know is struggling with a sense that they are failing in some area of their life, whether it’s work, relationships, family, or household maintenance. But what if this moment is all about learning how to fail in ways that nurture the humanness of each of us?
Non-compliance isn’t about being disrespectful, acting out of turn, or blowing off our community responsibilities. It’s about failing to adhere to policies that dehumanize immigrants seeking asylum, LGBTQIA+ people, Black and brown people, our unhoused neighbors…those who are already at greatest risk of discrimination in our country. It’s a failure to assume we know more about people’s immigration status, gender, or position in our society than they do. It’s a failure to stomach injustice, a failure to submit to fearfulness and scarcity over our collectivism.
I think there is truthfulness in saying that we don’t know. That we don’t have information about the immigration status or gender of our neighbors. There is a truth in minding our business and not speaking to people who are employed to tear families apart and incarcerate people without trial or cause. I want to fail as often as I can, to show that there is no shame in not knowing. To prove that our overwhelm in this moment is not a point of weakness but a deeply human reaction to continuously witnessing inhuman behavior.
In this moment, non-compliance feels like the most appropriate response to that inhumanity. And reminds me deeply of the timeless quote by Congressman John Lewis, “Get in good trouble, necessary trouble, and help redeem the soul of America.”
If the first Yama is very important, then we’d be remiss not to mention the last Niyama. Isvara Pranidhana means surrendering to a higher power, and closeness to…well whatever god or spirituality means to you. When we surrender to all that is, the creation of the universe and all that exists, when we embody compassion and attentiveness and care….the simple act of turning away from those hired to hurt others seems obvious. Non-compliance is an act of care, and as simple as saying “I do not know.”
written by Victoria Rutledge
