I don’t remember where I first heard this old teaching story, but I’ve been thinking about it a lot lately. It goes something like this:

Once, there was a terrible band of robbers. The chief bandit was known for his violence and recklessness. He grew rich from raiding the local villages, and the whole countryside lived in fear of him. Wherever he went, people fled from him or flattered him to try to save themselves from harm.

One day, he and his band attacked a new village. Their noise and violence sent the villagers scurrying to gather their valuables and hide. This saved the bandits time; they could kill the villagers and steal the goods without taking the trouble to search the houses. It was all so easy, and somehow comical to watch the people run in terror like chickens with their heads cut off, as the saying goes.

The chief bandit clattered through the narrow streets just to watch the people scurry like cockroaches, until he reached a house where a wise man sat in meditation. The bandit stopped, astounded, and laughed. Old Man, you’re in trouble now! But the man only frowned briefly and continued meditating. The bandit began to grow annoyed. Are you crazy? Don’t you know who I am? He waved his big sword so the blade made a dramatic swooshing sound which pleased him. He had the biggest sword of all, and it had killed many people. Still, the old man sat quietly.

Old man! Now the bandit was truly angry. Don’t you understand that I’m the sort of person who could run this sword through you without a second thought?

Yes. The old man opened his eyes and looked at the bandit calmly. Don’t you understand that I’m the sort of person who could be run through by your sword without a second thought?

The bandit had finally met someone more powerful than himself. He fell to his knees before the old man and begged to be his student. He pillaged no more.

This is the power of non-violence. Force creates resistance, and when violence is met by yielding, violence will play itself out. Eventually — that’s the promise of karma – but not necessarily in time to save a wise man’s life. This seems to be a bandit who was ripe for awakening, and it’s easy to imagine the story ending differently.

Here’s the problem: many of us would say we are committed to non-violence, but we don’t offer our life in its service.

Me neither.

But I think about it. There has never been a war that brought lasting peace. I can think of some fights that were followed by meaningful resolution, but the resolution came from discussion that occurred in the calm and sorrow after the fight. In the long run, force always creates resistance. Violence always begets violence. But in the short run, in the moment of fear and vulnerability, force makes us feel strong and powerful — fighting the good fight, as the saying goes.

As I age and grow in wisdom, I work to make my yoga practice less forceful, to spend less energy directing myself and more energy observing. Less reaction, more understanding. I have been surprised by the power I’ve discovered in yielding. Really surprised. And that gives me confidence to be bolder in my commitment. I don’t think I’m ready to yield to the murderer, but I’m beginning to see the point and to recognize how radical a position it is. Maybe radical enough to make a real change in how we manage conflict.

We’ve heard it before, but maybe it’s time to take our teachers seriously. Turn the other cheek.