The second of 10 precepts that define thoughts, words and actions teaches us to refrain from stealing and expresses the Zen practitioner’s commitment to live from a generous heart rather than from self-centeredness. At a personal level, stealing harms the one who steals; on a community level, stealing harms or even destroys community trust. Westerners might equate this precept with "thou shalt not steal" from the Ten Commandments, but the second precept is not a commandment, and it is not understood in that way. Rather, the precepts describe activities of wisdom and compassion. They encourage us to evaluate our motivations and notice how our actions affect others.
To practice the second precept is to mindfully attend to our lives. Paying attention, we realize that not taking what belongs to another is about more than respecting another’s personal property. Refraining from stealing is a way to practice generosity. We don’t think, “What should I not take?” We do think, “What can I give? Someone else might need that old coat I haven’t worn for a year.” Then we take it to Gleaners. “And what about that can of corn that has been sitting in my cupboard for six months?” Take it to the food bank. To practice the precepts is to go beyond thinking of them as prohibitions.
Most of us don’t think of ourselves as thieves. We don’t rob banks or steal cars or lift mascara from the local corner store. But it doesn’t require thievery to break this precept. If we look closely at our lives we can see that taking — things, time, even attention — occurs all the time. Anytime we take something without another person’s awareness, explicit consent or direct offer, we are taking something that has not been given, and we break trust in the relationship. This precept challenges our sense of separateness and points directly to the pain of isolation. When we feel separate, we hurt, and out of that hurt, we crave and grasp and, yes, steal.
While we may not take directly, with our own hands, we rarely pay attention to the causes and conditions that have given us what is ours. Going beyond not taking what isn’t given, we can notice the impact that our ownership has on others and widen our view to include the people, animals and resources contributing to all that we have. Treading lightly on the planet — taking less, rather than more — is a remarkably spiritual act. This quiet power of consuming less is a profound statement of our care and concern.
The ultimate meaning of the precept of not stealing is that, moment by moment, everything is completely given. Our Earth doesn’t hold back. It never has. We are swimming in a ocean of beneficence and bounty. The gate is open. From this place, the temptation to steal is laughable. We have everything we need to enjoy our lives completely.
Suggested practice: For the next two weeks notice what you own and reflect on whether or not you really need that object. If you don’t, is there someone who does?
Kuya Minogue is the resident teacher at Creston’s ZenWords Zen Centre. For more information, she can be reached at 250-428-6500.