Ahimsa.

A few months ago, I stood by the kitchen sink slicing into a honey mango. Across the counter top next to me marched a little black bug. Tiny. Barely bigger than a pin.

Without a thought, I reached down and flattened him with my fingertip.

If I had to guess, I'd say that we all grew up smooshing the insects in our homes. Now, it's just reflexive. Reactionary. Not even on our radar. But does this make it okay?

Even though a smoosh here or there may seem minute in the scheme of things, it's really not. Ahimsa—another yama—is the practice of nonviolence and non-harm. Ahimsa says we should be compassionate. On scales grand...and small.

To me, ahimsa it is about two things. First, it is patience. With ourselves and others. A deep breath when we fail, fall short, or when anger, slowness, or frustration has us issuing prejudices. It is a little softness when it is easier to dislike, to speak strident words, or to chastise someone whose life choices are different than our own.

Secondly, ahimsa is how we choose to view the rest of the world. We are all here purposefully and we each have purpose. Building hierarchies around whom we bestow kindness on is wrong. Plants, people, animals, and, yes, even tiny black bugs, are on the same level. Living. And they each deserve to go about their path. Unharmed.