Aparigraha.
I’ve been closing the estate of my aunt, who was a hoarder, and at the same time renovating a house I’ve lived in for 20 years, giving away as much as I can. My little car has become a redistribution-of-wealth wagon – boxes for family, friends, Retails Thrift Shop. I am daily practicing Aparigraha.

This is also part of my yoga practice, to let go of mental clutter, to let my mind be clean and free.

Less is more. Less is exhilarating.
K.C.

Asteya.
The week I read about asteya, non stealing, I had a alarm system installed in my home. It was determined that I needed to add an additional sensor than what was previously agreed upon. I was quoted an additional $100 fee for the equipment. After the installation was completed, the technician told me that there was no charge for the day’s installation and was packing up to leave. I thought about the additional sensor that was installed and could probably have remained silent and not been charged. Then I thought about asteya and smiled. I asked him about the additional sensor. He was embarrassed that he had forgotten it. He told me he would have had to pay for it himself if he had left my house without collecting for it. It was the right thing to do. The “reminder” from Judith was there at the front of my mind but my Catholic guilt reared its head as well 
T.

The yama that has the most meaning for me recently is aparigrapha, non-hoarding.
I have been teaching for over 12 years, but I have been a book lover all my life. Consequently, I have accumulated many volumes, especially on writing, literature, and using English properly. I realized that these wonderful books are something that should be shared because they are more useful as tools to help others with learning than just items to fill up my shelves. English teachers by their very natures love to surround themselves with books and reading materials. So, for one of my “breed” to give up books is often difficult, even unusual: one never knows when one may need the odd volume of whatever! Within the last month, I have given over five cartons of books to a high school that is building its library and to a thrift store. I do not miss these books at all because I know they are out there doing what books should do: educate, enlighten and bring satisfaction and joy to the minds of others. This is the meaning of aparigrapha to me.
M.A.

This morning I decided to be more aware and purposeful as I face the day and think about the Yamas as they exist in every nuance of the day. I wrote down the list of Yama’s and one more time read descriptions of each. Before I even got out of bed I was already thinking of Brahmacharya…no not what you are thinking…it was about the coffee in moderation not the sex. I wondered why I downed my coffee so fast, was there any moderation or thought about it? Do I really need another cup? ‘Yes’ I said, but now I’m looking at Aparigraha-non-greed. In five minutes I’ve already thought about two Yamas. The day will be long at this rate.
Next I’m on a conference call at 7AM. The person is apologizing profusely for making us have such an early call. I tell him not to worry and I was up anyway-Already lying!! Focusing on Satya, I re-phrased it. “Its ok, I needed to get up and stop drinking coffee anyway”. No need to avoid the truth just to make someone feel better.
Now if I can only get through the next couple hours without harming -Ahimsa-or stealing- Asteya-I’ll be ok.
Best,
C.H.

I lived in Jackson, Mississippi from 1976 until 1989. As I’d grown up in England I had a strong British accent. The Mississippians I met were very friendly. “I love how you talk,” they all drawled to me.
While I lived in Mississippi I got stopped for speeding twice, once in 1978 and again in 1982. Both times I put on my most charming Queen Elizabeth demeanor and accent and neither of the policemen gave me a ticket.
“Just slow down a little,” they both advised.
“That’s funny,” I thought. “That’s exactly what my yoga teacher keeps saying to me.”

In 1990 I moved to Raleigh, North Carolina. One Sunday morning the News and Observer ran an article called Speeding Across the South. There were photos of film stars. Each had a paragraph documenting their speeding ticket history.
“I never get speeding tickets,” I thought with a smug smile.

That Sunday afternoon I drove into downtown Raleigh, on my way to a yoga pot luck for my yoga students. There was nobody much about. Suddenly, a police car appeared out of nowhere, flashing lights and all. I ignored it. But he caught up right behind me and I finally realised I needed to stop. Apparently I’d been driving 42 miles per hour in a 30 mile an hour zone. The policeman started to write me up for a ticket.
“It’s okay. I don’t get tickets,” I thought.
“I’m so sorry,” I drooled in my best British accent.
But he handed me the ticket, talking about court dates. My mouth dropped open. I couldn’t listen to what he was saying. Voices in my head were screaming,
“But I don’t get tickets. Can’t I charm him? Oh God, have I lost my accent?”
When he drove off I sat and stared after his car. Then I sobbed, full of self pity.

Last week I was driving to my home in Raleigh. I was 2 blocks from my condo. I was driving a little faster than usual as I badly needed to pee. Too much tea! A policeman was sitting by the side of the road facing my way. I groaned. It had been so long, over 12 years. I looked in the rear view mirror. Sure enough he was doing a “U” turn. Could he be going after someone else? No he was coming up behind me and there was nobody else. His lights flashed on. I pulled over and stopped. He pulled over and stopped behind me. I opened my driver’s side window. He walked up to the passenger window. I opened it and looked up into the young, handsome face.

“Hello Ma’am,” he said and smiled.
“I was going too fast wasn’t I, officer? I live here and I was busting to go to the bathroom.”
Barrrr-th room is still a good word for exuding my English conviviality and charm.

He took my drivers license and walked back to his car to check me out on his computer. I sat, cross legged, desperate for the toilet. I stewed with mental anguish.
“Do I go to court and ask for prayer for judgment? Do I pay an attorney? Will I get points on my insurance?”

The policeman returned to my passenger window and handed me my license. We smiled at each other.
“I’m so sorry, officer. What’s the speed limit here?” I asked.
“35 miles an hour,” he said.
“What speed was I going?”
“You were doing 45 miles an hour,” he replied.
“Darn. I knew I was zipping a bit, to get to the bathroom, you know.”
I shook my head and smiled at him. I was glad I’d been stopped by such a charming policeman. I was resigned to getting my ticket.
“Ms. Valerie,” he said, “I’m going to do something I hardly ever do. I’m going to let you off this ticket. But slow down and be careful.”

I didn’t prostrate myself at his feet. I didn’t offer him five years of free yoga. I didn’t try to fix him up with my daughter. I simply said, “Thank you so very much, sir,” in my authentic American-English voice.

His strategy to slow me down has worked beautifully. I keep slowing down to 40 miles an hour on the in town roads and 30 on the neighbourhood roads. Slowing down has been a lifetime challenge for me, even though I’ve practiced yoga for over thirty years. Perhaps now I’m sixty I really can slow down a bit.

The fifth and last yama is aparigraha. Aparigraha is the Sanskrit word for greedlessness or non-hoarding. It literally translates as “not grasping all around.” Aparigraha means not being greedy and not accumulating things beyond our capacity.

Practicing the virtue of aparigraha helps us become more conscious of how we use our resources and our belongings. Do we really need what we are buying? Do we hold onto things we no longer need that others could use? Do we spend more than we have? Do we give to charity?

Aparigraha also includes not coveting what someone else has or is: not coveting another’s figure or family, job or possessions. Even in yoga class we may be tempted to compare our yoga pose with someone more adept and covet their flexibility or proficiency.

Unfortunately, our society is a greedy one. We are encouraged to “shop til you drop.” We are taunted by advertisers to desire things that are unneeded or even bad for us. And nowadays we often use credit, which is really debt, instead of saving up to purchase things.

As we practice aparigraha and loosen our grip on material possessions we let go of the ego a little, that part of us doing the gripping and grasping. As this ego-tension relaxes we become more in touch with the happiness or our true self.

Aparigraha in its essence helps us discover the richness of our own selves so we no longer need to look outside ourselves for fulfillment. From aparigraha grows the ability to give freely to others and share our inner abundance more fully. We realize we need nothing to be happy and can live more fully in the present, unconcerned about the future.

A few ways to practice aparigraha:

~Clean out a drawer or closet and give away what you no longer use.
~Volunteer for a charity
~Practice not buying anything new for a month
~Stop watching television commercials
~Discern whether your spending patterns reflect your values