Once upon a time, in a far away galaxy called 2018, my website was plagiarized by a woman that we will call “Ann”.
Yes, plagiarized. Like, ripped off. Tip to tail.
Now, I don’t have a stunning website. It’s not even professionally built.
However, I do pride myself on writing like a real human being, because you are a real human being, and it’s a great pleasure to strive to break the barriers of our computer screens to actually connect with the human that is you.
I digress. Back to Ann.
Ann had reached out to schedule a complimentary session, which I offer to everyone who is interested in doing work with me. It’s important to know if we’re a good fit, and if I can be helpful in those tender joints where your meditation practice meets your life.
When Ann reached out, she mentioned that she was also a meditation teacher, and her name sounded super familiar.
Had we worked together before?
Was she part of a training I was involved in?
Like anyone who is mortified by the idea of introducing themselves to someone that they’ve already met — but completely forgot they had met (guilty), I Googled Ann before our meeting.
And that’s when I saw her website.
Or I should say MY website.
Just with her smiling photos next to my words. She had even plagiarized a testimonial that I had received from one of my meditation students, and just inserted a fake name. Gobsmacking.
Now here is where we get to the teaching point of this story, because of course, we’ve all experienced an “Ann” in some form — and by that I mean a very present need to shut someone’s behavior down with firm and unmistakable boundaries, as gracefully as possible.
There is a word in Sanskrit “Upaya” which translates as “skillful means”.
It’s a quality that our meditation practice trains us for — the ability to meet the moment that arises, and to see it clearly. So that we can discern how to dance with it.
In my case, I chose to put myself in Ann’s shoes (since she had taken the liberty of putting herself in mine).
Who steals someone else’s words?
Someone who likely doesn’t trust their own voice.
Who passes off someone else’s work as their own?
Someone who likely doesn’t feel their own work is good enough.
Who schedules a private session with the person that they’ve just plagiarized?
Someone with a lot of gumption — who probably also feels a lot like a fraud.
Now I don't know about you, but I have definitely felt not good enough, like a total fraud, wracked with self doubt, and it is SUCH a painful position to be in.
And so when I met with Ann the next day, I made a real effort to pack up my righteous indignation and approach her from this place: understanding where her behavior likely came from, without allowing it to persist.
Just… clear. Direct. Upaya.
I greeted her warmly, with all the love in my heart, and gave her the respect of not mincing my words.
“It must be so painful to have so little trust in your own voice that you felt the need to plagiarize mine”
Ann? Gobsmacked. As you can imagine.
But from there, we were able to have a real conversation, without the conflict that comes from defending our positions, and she took her website down the next day.
There’s a sense that if we’re leaving our meditation practice on the cushion and not bringing it to real life moments like these….it’s kinda like eating only the egg white, and throwing away the yolk.
Sure, there's some protein in there, but you’re tossing out the part with all the richness, nutrients and flavor.
So...
What situations do you need to handle skillfully this week?
What boundaries need to be set with unmistakable clarity -- and perhaps a dose of grace and compassion?
Take 5 to drop into your body. Drop into your breath.
This is what meditation practice trains us for.
Meeting those tender joints where practice meets life as skillfully as we can.