Were you free to make a choice you didn't know you had? Where free will begins.

In a previous post, I asked you to consider the example of someone insulting or offending us, we get angry and immediately think of things we would like to say or do in response.  What would our motivation be for saying or doing any of them? Although you could spin it in several directions, such as to clarify the others’ mistake, to defend yourself, to get back at him/her, to put the other in his place, to just hit him, etc., they actually have one thing in common – they are motivated by the feeling that they will make you happier if you do it. 

Now here’s the funny thing – if you were to examine the motivation behind why the other person said or did whatever it was that he did, it’s exactly the same reason.  He thought it would make him happier.  In this respect, you two are always on the same wavelength. So one way to work with the negative feelings is to recognize that there is no fundamental difference between either of your perspectives. The problem is that our perspective usually does not include the other’s perspective. 

Humans suck at seeing another’s perspective.  There are many reasons for it, but a lot of it is just how the human brain works.  There is a cognitive bias that is so basic to all human thought that it is called the Fundamental Attribution Error.  When someone does something, especially something annoying, we tend to attribute the causes to something internal and/or essential about that person - he is just a jerk. In contrast, when we do something that could be annoying, however, we tend to attribute the causes to external situations.  We had no other choice, or we're in a hurry.

It's interesting to note that to ourselves, we always have a “good” reason for why we are doing whatever selfish thing it is we’re doing.

The corollary to the fundamental attribution error is what might be called the fundamental self error – that we relate everything to ourselves as if everything is a personal affront or benefit. The other part of a fundamental self error is that we believe there is a fundamental self – something unchanging at the core that things happen to. If we’re a stable permanent thing, then any changes that occur are from the outside happening TO us. We get to pretend constantly that we’re the victim, even of our own feelings. For example, how often have you said, “That thing you did MADE me mad,” or “I fell in love with you because you’re so sweet?" We interpret even our own feelings as something that happened to us because of external circumstances.

The irony is that we take no responsibility for our own actions and reactions, but we call this freedom.

Wouldn’t true freedom be the ability to not feel controlled by the situations and our emotional reactions? Wouldn’t true freedom be the ability to see all the perspectives?  If we believe that free will is the ability to make our own choices, when our perspective is so narrow that we can’t even understand the choices available to us, how can we have any free will? Were you free to make a choice that you didn’t even know you had?

Psychologist Roy Baumeister said, “Self-control counts as a kind of freedom because it begins with not acting on every impulse. The simple brain acts whenever something triggers a response: A hungry creature sees food and eats it. The most recently evolved parts of the human brain have an extensive mechanism for overriding those impulses, which enables us to reject food when we’re hungry, whether it’s because we’re dieting, vegetarian, keeping kosher, or mistrustful of the food.” 

So freedom begins when we STOP acting, or at least slow down the reacting. This is also the first step to being open to seeing other perspectives.  As long as we continue to act in our habitual ways, getting into the same arguments over and over again, continuing to believe that we're right, we will never be free.

This is where meditation can be such valuable training. One technique that can help us begin to slow the automatic processes of reacting down is called Urge Surfing, which can be read about here and there is a nice short guided example available here.

Image sources: Here and here.

Cooling the Fire of Anger with Rain

Although humans like to believe that we’re rational cognitive creatures, we're actually fundamentally very emotional creatures. You might expect that we would be good with something that we have had experience with our whole lives. Yet one of the great ironies is that we are really pretty bad at relating to our own emotions, despite all this experience.

Unfortunately the process of socialization requires that we put artificial limits and layers of “should” all over our children’s emotions as they grow, so that by the time we are adults, we have very complex relationships with our emotions. So in this post, I’m going to describe an approach that can help us have a more honest and direct relationship with our emotions.  This is a technique that we can put into place immediately and right at the very moment that we’re having a difficult time with something.

 

It’s very easy for us to get caught up by our emotions, either by getting lost in our conceptions and story about what is going on, or by "amygdala hijack," where our emotions literally rule our behaviors without our having much freedom to direct the action.  Actually, in both of these scenarios we have very little freedom, as both our cognitive and emotional reactions tend to be conditioned by past experiences.  So how can we start opening up a door to let some new air in, or maybe even give us a new path to walk down?

When you first recognize that you are getting triggered or that you’re caught up in a cascade of thoughts, you can do the RAIN technique. 

Recognize – Pause long enough to recognize what you're feeling and label it (it may be more than one thing); Recognize the situation you’re in, the reactions you may be having, your habitual reactions, etc.

Allow - Accept that this is how it is right now, so there’s no reason to try to pretend otherwise. A complex history of causes and conditions have come together to get to this point, and it has momentum.  It is as it is, and fighting it will be wasted energy, so allow it to be for the moment.

Investigate - Investigate what and how you feel your emotional reaction in the body, what it brings up, where it comes from, what it makes you feel like you “should” do to change the situation, etc. What beliefs do you have? Investigate with an intimate and kind intention.  You are not trying to find where you made mistakes, but to understand what you believe you want or need, and how you experience that in your body.

Non-identification - This is the tricky one.  In one sense, it is a natural outgrowth of the first three, but it can also be enhanced with intention. We usually believe our thoughts and feelings are who we are, and that things are really happening to us - we usually take everything very personally. In fact, we are part of a much bigger fabric or things co-emerging. The situation is in constant motion, and we can step back and let things emerge without our feeling an immediate need to have to do something.  The goal is to separate what we are feeling from the sense of it being a personal attack - we are much more than just the bad feeling we're having right now. We are actually much more stable than this momentary feeling of instability. If we can find that point of balance in the middle of the swirl, we can see it for what it is without taking it as a personal attack.

The RAIN approach allows the situation to unfold with a little more space, where the habitual reactions can be slowed down and examined.  It can allow us to find the “gaps” between feeling and craving, and between craving and grasping (to put it in 12 Nidana terms).  There’s a freedom that is found when we discover the space that is available to us at all times, especially when it feels claustrophobic, like you’re about to be overwhelmed, or like you get stuck.


Image sources: Here, here, and here.

The Wisdom of Anger and the Illusion of Freedom

Anger is a funny emotion, because although it often causes us and those around us suffering, we deep down kind of like it.  We like the feeling of power it gives, the sense of righteousness that sometimes accompanies it, and the feeling of control we can get through it. So although we know we suffer because of it, we often don't really want to change our relationship with it.

Although we believe that our experience of reality is like a camera recording perfectly what it sees, our experience of reality is in fact an active creation of our minds.  If we can watch the cause and effect nature of our perceptions, thoughts, and feelings, we can become more accurate and more competent creators of our experiences.

Emotions affect thoughts, thoughts affect emotions, both affect behavior, and each thought or feeling helps to give rise to the next one.  Thoughts beget like thoughts, which is why positive or negative self-talk is important, and also part of why the meditative techniques can have powerful effects.

Let’s talk for a bit about the cycle of what normally happens with anger.  You may be going along, minding your own business doing your job, when your boss comes up and says something that really irks you.  This gets an immediate emotional reaction, which begins a cascade of thoughts, which often intensify the emotion, which continue the thoughts, etc.  As noted by neuroscientist Jill Bolte Taylor, any emotional reaction will run its full course physiologically in 90 seconds unless we continue to feed it.  Our attention gets focused, by which I really mean limited. We perseverate on the issue, and even when we try to stop thinking about it and to get some work done, we often find ourselves distracted by rehearsing some aspect of it again which just keeps the feeling going.  How many of you have had this experience?

The Tibetan word for this stuckness of our emotional reactions is shenpa.  It’s not the emotion itself, but the way that our experience of emotion narrows our vision, enhances the feeling of self and other, and captures our attention.  It is related to our past conditioning, in that we tend to have much the same reactions over and over, even to new insults.  

Recall the classic psychological study of conditioned emotions on Little Albert. Although he initially was not scared of small animals, by pairing the sight of a white rat with a loud sound, he learned to fear not only the rat, but other small animals like white and brown rabbits.  It is likely that for the rest of his life he would have had a habitual reaction to any new white rat or small animal.  He will think that his anxiety is "his."  He won’t remember why he has these feelings, just will accept them as if they are truth and that he's always felt this way.  We do this all the time – we have a reaction that is largely controlled by our past conditioning. The funny thing about it is that we believe it is freedom.

One way karma can be defined is it is an acquired loss of free will (thanks to Ethan Nichtern for this definition).  When we are stuck within the cascade of emotional and cognitive reactions, we are almost always thinking and feeling in ways that have we have practiced many times before.  This is why we have the same arguments over and over with our spouses, parents, children.  We are sick of the argument, and yet we don’t seem to ever find a way out.  If someone tells you that you need to stop reacting the same way, you feel outraged that they’re taking away your freedom.  But are you really free?  The only way to truly exercise freedom is to refrain from doing what you want to do long enough to be able to choose thoughtfully, not based on an emotional reaction or on habit energy.

I do not mean, however, to suggest that we shouldn’t be guided by emotions, nor do I mean to suggest that emotions are somehow bad or that we should learn to reduce or eliminate them. Instead, the Vajrayana view of emotions is particularly useful here - we need to see that emotions have co-emergent properties of wisdom and confusion.  These two properties co-emerge almost at once when you feel an emotion.  The trick is to learn to separate them and to act only from the wisdom side.

The wisdom of anger is seeing clearly that something is wrong.  There has been some injustice, or some goal has been frustrated.   Notice that this wisdom doesn’t necessarily say what one should do.  Finding the skillful action to take is entirely dependent on the exact situation at that moment, which is why our habitual reactions are almost never skillful. It may be that the skillful action to take is no action.

If we act on the wisdom component, it should usually help the situation.  If we act on the confusion component, it will often harm the situation or the other person.

How can we tell the difference?  First, we have to learn to refrain from following our usual patterns.  Until we do that, we cannot even begin to see how our actions contribute to the problems. People don’t like talking about refraining, because they incorrectly believe it is taking away their free will when in fact it is the first step on restoring it to them.

Second, we can begin to watch the course of cause and effect.  Why do we feel what we do?  What exactly do we feel? It’s not usually as simple as simple anger – there’s usually hurt, disappointment, a feeling of loss of control, old resentments, etc. that jostle with it.  We can try to trace where some of these feelings and thoughts come from. We can also watch what happens once we think something – how does it affect our feelings and future thoughts.  Finally, we can watch what happens once we do or say something – how does it change the situation for better or for worse?

Third, we need to begin to understand our motivations for taking action.  Unfortunately, most of our motivations are actually hidden to conscious thought.

For example, Wayne Warburton and his colleagues have done a series of interesting studies about why people behave aggressively when made upset. Here's the general (over-simplified) setup:  First I insult you in some way, so that you are angered.  Then you are put in a room alone and told that you will have to endure a really loud and unpleasant noise for about 30 seconds.  Participants are randomized into a no-control or a having-control condition. In the no-control condition, the noise just comes on at some point. In the having-control condition, you have a button you can press to start the noise when you are ready for it.  In both cases everyone hears the same unpleasant noise.  After hearing it, people are given an opportunity to be mean to someone else (such as the person who insulted them). If they were in the no-control condition, they are much more aggressive than if they had been given a small sense of control from getting to push the button to start the noise.  This (among other experiments they conducted) shows that we will behave aggressively partly to regain a sense of control.  

Given that these motivations to restore a sense of control are unconscious, it takes a lot of work and time to begin to notice what is truly motivating our actions. The story we tell about why we do something is almost never accurate, because it’s designed to show you off in the most positive light possible (both to others and to self).

So if this the steps above will take a lot of training, what can we do right away? We can try to notice the feeling tone that goes with our action, because that’s a little more observable to conscious awareness.   If we are acting with an angry feeling, then whatever action we have chosen is almost certainly coming from the confusion side.  Buddha said that hatred is never solved by hatred.  If instead we act out of a feeling of compassion, then the action has much higher likelihood to work from the wisdom side.

Within the Buddhist framework, we build our karma primarily from intentions. So the same action could build positive outcomes and habits or negative outcomes and habits, depending on the intention behind it.

Going back to the example of someone insulting or offending us, we get angry and immediately think of things we would like to say or do in response.  What is our motivation for saying or doing any of them? Although you could spin it in several directions, such as to clarify the others’ mistake, to defend yourself, to get back at him/her, to put the other in his place, to just hit him, etc., they actually have one thing in common – they are motivated by the feeling that they will make you happier if you do it.  So your motivation is driven by a self motivation. This will almost ensure continued or enhanced division.  This is the confusion aspect of the emotion.

What if, instead, we acted from a motivation of compassion?  This is the wisdom aspect of anger – something is wrong, and we have an opportunity to try to help the situation. So consider the anger that might be built up if one lived with an alcoholic. Tara Brach (Radical Acceptance, 2003, pp. 296-297) relates the story of a family setting up an intervention to send a loved one to a treatment program.  

"I worried about how the participants - his wife, two sons and elderly father - were going to manage being 'loving and nonjudgmental' when each one was so furious with him. They were filled with grievances: the sons who couldn't bring friends home from school because their father was such a loose cannon; the wife who had lost a partner she could count on and who treated her with care; the father who never saw his only son. I feared they'd just curse him out, rather than communicate their caring. 

"I was wrong. Harry came into that room and, he later told me, looked around at the faces of those he loved best in the whole world. They were all looking at him, all there for him. Something happened to the air in the room, he said, it seemed to beat like a pulse. After he sank down in a chair, I suggested that Marge, his wife, begin the confrontation. But, instead of reciting his absences, his missed commitments, she just got up and kissed him. 'Thank you for coming, Harry,' she said. Then, to my surprise, each of the others, even the boys, got up and hugged him....When his family did go on to say what needed saying, Harry was listening. Afterward, he took the [space in the treatment facility] that had been saved for him."

Notice that this approach does not try to eradicate anger, but is about learning to use its wisdom and energy in a way that benefits others rather than satisfies the self.

Above I noted that Buddha said that anger and hatred are never solved by hatred. That is only the first part of what he said – he also said what can solve it:

Animosity does not eradicate animosity. Only by loving kindness is animosity dissolved. This law is ancient and eternal.

- The Dhammapada (translation by Ananda Maitreya, 1995, Parallax Press)

So loving kindness is the direct antidote to anger, and it can help to solve the problems that are fostered and nourished by anger. This approach, however, doesn't come naturally to everyone, but it IS something that can be trained in anyone (although it again takes time).  The technique is called metta or loving-kindness meditation (for more details, see HERE or HERE). Practicing this can begin to train us to be guided by and act from the wisdom side of anger, rather than the confusion side. Gaining relief from our habitual feelings and response patterns truly gives us freedom, rather than the illusion of freedom that we usually have.


Image sources: Here, here, and here. This was first published at www.theidproject.org

The Two Arrows

I've been thinking about how relationships, mindfulness, and meditation work.  All of them seem to share a striking characteristic.  When everyone is happy, they all seem to flow easily.  But when someone is feeling a strong emotion (e.g., anger, fear, jealousy, sadness), they all seem to get harder. This is perhaps one of the real benefits of working on mindfulness in a supportive group - it's not like we're leaving the world behind.  We bring it with us all the time.  Meditation offers us an opportunity to practice the hard things in a little simpler and safer way, so that then we can practice them in the "real" world more easily later.

So, this is one of the goals of mindfulness: to allow us to go through the ups and downs of daily life with a sense of ease, to gain clarity into what is actually happening so that we can act skillfully and thereby make problems better rather than adding fuel to the fire.  In this spirit, the next several posts will examine aspects of dealing with relationships skillfully, even when we're in the middle of a difficult emotion.

To start, consider this question: How often do we say “You did this to me!” when what we really mean is “I didn’t get what I wanted?"

There is a classic Buddhist parable of the two arrows. In brief, the idea is that most people, when hurt, add to the hurt. If shot with an arrow, we spend a lot of effort focused on wondering why we got shot, how we didn't deserve that, how the person who shot the arrow is a  jerk, what we are going to say when we get in front of him/her, etc.  It's like being struck by a second arrow - the first one is physical and the second is mental.  In contrast, if we are able to maintain our mindfulness and not spin off into a story about our pain, we only get struck by one arrow. (For the geeks, here is the original Sallatha Sutra).

I might even go further than this - once we start down the story road, we not only make ourselves feel worse (the second arrow), but then we are more likely to do something that makes the situation worse.  This is a third arrow!

We need to take responsibility for our emotions. We need to stop thinking that something outside us will make everything better. All you can work with is yourself, and this is true even for recurring situations. If you have a difficult boss who makes your life difficult, it is unlikely that you can change your boss. You can, however, change your reactions, your work habits, or even your job.

If we look a little deeper into any interaction, we will notice that whenever someone does something to you, you are at the same time perceiving it.  To quote Ethan Nichtern's riff on the classic Zen koan, "If a person is an ass and there's no one around to see it, is he still an ass?"

We expect that our perception and our point of view is accurate and that any other observer would agree with our perception. This is called the False Consensus Bias, where we assume that whatever we think/feel, most people would agree with.  The classic study (Ross, Greene, & House, 1977) had people read stories that included a conflict and asked them which solution most people would pick, which one they themselves would pick, and what people who pick each of the two sides would be like.  In general, people estimate that most people would pick the same choice they themselves would, and rated them more positively than people who would pick the other choice.

Attention is a narrow spotlight - look at something in your room right now.  As you focus on that 5% of the room, you can't pay attention to the other 95% of what is actually happening now. Your perception is therefore always 95% wrong, and your memory is even worse (especially once you start telling yourself a story about what just happened). So although we can’t overcome the false consensus bias, we can start to recognize that we never have all the information, and that from the other person’s point of view, maybe you’re the ass. 

In truth, usually no one is the ass. We actually just have different perspectives, attention to different aspects, different goals, different motivations, and different approaches.  But because we assume that everyone else must have the same perspective, goals and approaches, we then decide that anyone not following our script must be being difficult.

If we can begin to see that we are very changeable based on what we pay attention to, it may give us the space to pause before we shoot ourselves with the second arrow.

The Brahmaviharas: Unselfish Joy

People often believe that Buddhism focuses on suffering and all the depressing things about life. Even if that were true, the fourth Brahmavihara clearly balances out the picture a little better.  Mudita, sometimes translated as empathetic or unselfish joy, focuses on how we can share in the joy that is all around us.

Some writers think that mudita is a foundational aspect of the Brahmaviharas - that it's difficult to feel compassion or loving-kindness toward someone until you can first find something you appreciate about them. I tend to think that it's actually the hardest of the four, because it's the one we have the least practice with. Most people already have lots of experience with feeling loving towards others, including starting with little of that feeling and watching it grow over time.  We have lots of experience sharing other people's sorrows and feeling some compassion for them. I think that most people have far less experience sharing someone else's joy without feeling competitive, envious, or jealous.

Many years ago I went to a university department faculty function and was asked by one of the main faculty members what was new? I had just been invited to edit a book by a publisher, and that was what was new, so that's what I told her. She said, "Well, the only reason they asked you is because they couldn't get someone good."

I thought this was a pretty funny response. Despite the fact that my success was actually good for the whole department (and therefore also good for her), she couldn't share in the joy. I don't know if she was threatened, or jealous, or what, but this response was a classic example of what we usually do when we hear about someone else's good fortune--we turn it around and look at it from our own limited perspective. We make it about us, even though it's clearly not about us - it's about the other person.

Mudita is often referred to as an antidote to envy, jealousy, competition, or resentment. So when you are feeling one of those types of emotions, we can try to do a mudita meditation to reduce it. The traditional phrase to offer is "May your joy and good fortune not diminish," or "May this good fortune continue, return, and increase." Traditionally we would start by offering this to a friend, remembering a time when that friend got something he/she really was hoping for, and then offering the phrase. After this, you can extend the offering to a loved one, a neutral person, a difficult person, and all beings.

Although the traditional meditation practice doesn't usually begin with focusing on the self like many of the other Brahmavihara practices do, there are practices to help us begin to find joy without feeling competitive or envious. One is to find the joy in all the little things that happen in a day that we tend to overlook. Children are an excellent teacher for mudita. Everything they are doing is so interesting and joyful to them that we call it "play." It's really nothing more than them living their lives, but because they approach it with joy in the execution we soon differentiate it from "work." Yet, what is the difference?

This is training we can do all day long - train to notice that almost whatever we're doing has some joyful aspect to it. The key is to be present, fully connected with whatever is happening in this moment and noticing the details of ordinary life. We have the opportunity to rejoice as we take care of ordinary things: our dishes, our clothing, our work, our hair. When we are taking care of something that needs care, we can express appreciation for all of the things that have come together to make it possible. To take out the garbage, for example, means that you had enough money to buy the things that you enjoyed before throwing the useless parts away, and that you are healthy enough to carry the bag out to the garbage can. These are no small joys.

Pema Chodron says (in The Places that Scare You, p. 85), “Rejoicing in ordinary things is not sentimental or trite. It actually takes guts. Each time we drop our complaints and allow everyday good fortune to inspire us, we enter the warrior’s world. We can do this even at the most difficult moments. Everything we see, hear, taste, and smell has the power to strengthen and uplift us.” This is the first stage in learning joy – learning to practice seeing it in our daily lives. This stage is made greatly difficult because we have years of practicing doing the opposite – complaining about every little problem.

The French writer Collette said, “What a wonderful life I’ve had! I only wish I’d realized it sooner.”

Mudita uncovers the truth of our abundance. 


In the Mangala Sutta, the Buddha is asked what the greatest blessing in the world is. This sutra is funny because it's almost like he couldn't make up his mind. He lists about 37 different things and says they're all the greatest blessing! I think this is the truth...we are blessed in so many directions (family, home, skills, friends, values, etc.) that we don't even notice them.

It is certainly possible that as we practice the four divine abodes that we feel ourselves rebelling – why should I be sending all this joy, compassion, and love toward other people when I need it so much for myself? This is misplaced selfishness, because it is through cultivating these that you will receive them, and mudita is the clearest example of that. As I noted in a previous post, we expect and want others to "make" us happy, which is generally inappropriate. Other people can make you happy – when they are happy, you can share in it. You don’t need to manufacture your own happiness or theirs…just allow their happiness to pervade you. 

Whenever some happiness comes to others, you don’t need to feel it the same way they do. You can just be glad that a ray of joy has pierced their life at this time, especially when we all struggle in so many aspects of our lives.

Sharon Salzberg notes several challenges to mudita in her book Loving-Kindness : Judging, comparing, prejudice, demeaning or belittling, envy, greed, and boredom.  We might recognize a need for mudita when we find ourselves criticizing or feeling resentment. Criticism is often an expression of jealousy. Jealousy is an expression of insufficiency.  We tend to cover that neediness with criticism, sarcasm, snarkiness.  Another way we may notice the lack of mudita is that it creates a sense of territorialism.

Salzberg also notes how mudita helps us to not be overwhelmed by the sadness of compassion. “Compassion balances sympathetic joy and keeps it from degenerating into sentimentality or ignorant optimism. Mudita keeps compassion from degenerating into brooding over the enormous breadth, depth, and duration of suffering in the world. It gives solace to the compassionate so that we do not feel flooded or overwhelmed by pain…. And because mudita energizes us, it also helps compassion to be active. We can take the joy of mudita and use it to help translate our inner experience of compassion into an outward act of service in the world.” (p. 132)

Ultimately, each of the four Brahmaviharas are balanced by and need the others.

The Brahmaviharas: Compassion

Compassion is the English translation of karunā. Sharon Salzberg, in her book Loving Kindness, notes that seeing the suffering of others can cause a range of emotions in us, including anger, fear, or sadness.  She says (p. 108):

The state of compassion as the trembling of the heart arises with a quality of equanimity. Can you imagine a mind state in which there is no bitter, condemning judgment of oneself or of others?  This mind does not see the world in terms of good and band, right and wrong, good and evil; it sees only ‘suffering and the end of suffering.’  What would happen if we looked at ourselves and all of the different things that we see and did not judge any of it? We would see that some things bring pain and others bring happiness, but there would be no denunciation, no guilt, no shame, no fear. How wonderful to see ourselves, others, and the world in that way!  When we see only suffering and the end of suffering, then we feel compassion.  Then we can act in energetic and forceful ways but without the corrosive effects of aversion.

The compassion meditation practice is very similar to the loving-kindness practice.  One way of considering how they’re different is that karunā is the desire to remove harm and suffering from others, whereas mettā is the desire for happiness and comfort.  So compassion has an aspect of is recognizing what is (and taking some action), and loving-kindness has an aspect of setting an aspiration for what can be.

To do the meditation practice requires thinking of particular people and offering them these phrases:   "May you be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.  May you have peace and joy." Traditionally, you would start with yourself, then offer this wish to a loved one, a friend, a neutral person, a difficult person, then the group including yourself, the loved one, friend, neutral and difficult people all together, then to all beings.

To consider the differences between compassion and loving-kindness further, let’s revisit the idea that each of the Brahmaviharas is an antidote to something.  Mettā is the antidote for anger and hatred. Compassion, in comparison, is the antidote to cruelty.

Shantideva describes meditating on compassion in this way:

"Strive at first to meditate upon the sameness of yourself and others. In joy and sorrow all are equal; Thus be guardian of all, as of yourself. The hand and other limbs are many and distinct, But all are one--the body to be kept and guarded. Likewise, different beings, in their joys and sorrows, are, like me, all one in wanting happiness. This pain of mine does not afflict or cause discomfort to another's body, and yet this pain is hard for me to bear because I cling and take it for my own. And other beings' pain I do not feel, and yet, because I take them for myself, their suffering is mine and therefore hard to bear. And therefore I'll dispel the pain of others, for it is simply pain, just like my own. And others I will aid and benefit, for they are living beings, like my body. Since I and other beings both, in wanting happiness, are equal and alike, what difference is there to distinguish us, that I should strive to have my bliss alone?"

Seeing the similarities between yourself and others, we will be much less likely to be unkind or harsh. In this way it is an antidote to cruel behavior.

There is another aspect to notice:  Mettā is the antidote for a feeling, whereas compassion is the antidote to an action.  In the Buddhist texts, mettā is generally described as a “disposition, an interior attitude.” Karunā includes more than simply feeling - it also has the aspect of combating suffering.

The Stanford University compassion project notes that there are four stages of compassion.

1. Awareness of suffering – sensing or seeing the suffering.  This recognition can be of the self or someone else suffering
2. Feeling of our emotion – which could be many different emotions singly or in combination
3. Motivation to relieve suffering – in contrast to sympathy and empathy, which do not necessarily give rise to motivation to act
4. Gives rise to action – It may not be the action you would imagine, but what arises on the spot, which might just be to stay with the suffering; The action is not driven by your agenda; Responding, not reacting.

If we examine the Latin roots of the English word compassion, we can see these four aspects.  It comes from com (with) and passio (to suffer).  It is therefore "to suffer with." When we suffer ourselves, we become aware of pain, we feel our emotional reaction, and we become quickly motivated to do something to lessen the pain.  When we feel compassion, we can feel their pain and share the motivation to reduce it.

So how does compassion relate to empathy and sympathy?  Empathy is the ability to see things from the other person’s point of view. Seeing things from another’s point of view is surprisingly hard. Most of our fights with loved ones are not because we or they intend to be unkind, but because we simply don't understand each other's point of view.  So empathy is the beginning of compassion, and we're not generally very good at that.

Mimi & Eunice cartoon by my friend Nina Paley

Sympathy similarly starts with the acknowledgement of someone else’s suffering, but in contrast, it’s actually often harmful.  Dr. Brene Brown, who studies empathy, notes that compassionate responses rarely, if ever, start with “At least…” If someone shares something painful, and we try to find a silver lining for the person, it keeps us disconnected.  You say, “I had a miscarriage” and I say, “Well, at least you know you can get pregnant.”  It’s not connecting with the real emotion that is really here.  It’s not suffering with.  It’s not saying, “yeah, I don’t even know what to say, but I’m glad you told me.”  Compassion is connecting with the other, sympathy drives disconnection.

So if we do compassion right, which is empathy combined with action, how do we know what action?

Your emotional reaction may not be the right one for the person.  For example, if my daughter discusses something difficult for me, I don’t need to show her my reaction. That may not be helpful for her. You do, however, need to acknowledge your own feelings and reactions, as well as your feelings that are compassionate. Without acknowledging your own feelings and reactions, you will be driven by them.  You need to see them to get past them.

Your actions therefore need to be compassionate to yourself as well as toward the other. Part of the underlying assumption is that you and other are equal, which means that you should never act in a way that diminishes or harms yourself. Altruism is not the same as compassion.  You don’t need your response to hurt yourself for it to be beneficial for the other.

That said, true compassion does mean being vulnerability.  It’s not so much a vulnerability to being hurt, though. It’s a vulnerability to allow yourself to connect to a difficult feeling without knowing what will happen next – to resting in the gap. Willingness to sit in the space where you don’t feel like you know the other person.  The problem is that we tend to generalize from past experiences and assume we know what is happening and what will happen.  As Ethan Nichtern has said, we objectify situations and the people in them, as if they’re action figures – “You’re the good guy and you’re the bad guy.” Until we practice with compassion enough, we will keep doing this.

The truth is that rarely does saying something ever make the situation better. What the person needs is not us to say a special thing, but to be there – really there.  It’s not that we can’t try to say or do things to help, but we need to temper the compassion with equanimity.  We can’t expect or push for any particular outcome. We can do/say whatever feels appropriate in the moment, and then sit back to see what happens and what the next moment will bring. Ultimately, the other person is responsible for his or her own happiness, and there’s really very little we can do that can influence that. Part of what we can feel compassion for, therefore, is that we have far less control than any of us wish we did.

The Brahmaviharas: Loving-Kindness

The idea of cultivating loving-kindness through meditation is one of the ideas that people generally like. Despite its positive connotations, however, it may be useful to consider the darker side that it combats.

The original Pali word metta can be translated into English in many ways, such as loving-kindness, friendliness, good will, benevolence, fellowship, amity, inoffensiveness, and non-violence. It is a wish for the welfare and happiness of others, without the self-interest that is often subtly underneath our friendly behaviors.

As ideal as this sounds, Buddhist practices are not meant to be theoretical - they are meant to be practical. They are designed to achieve specific goals. The Brahmavihara practices are designed to help us alleviate our suffering, which coincidentally alleviates others' suffering. Metta practice is designed (in part) as an antidote to anger. Why, however, should we care about lessening anger? Culturally, we're told that anger is good (at least for men) - it makes us strong.

The Buddha stated that when you are angry, there are seven things that are gratifying and helpful to your enemy.  The seven, in abbreviated form, are:

1. An enemy wishes for his enemy, Let him be ugly.  Anger makes us ugly.
2. An enemy also wishes, Let him lie in pain.  No enemy relishes your lying in comfort.
3. An enemy wishes, Let him have no prosperity.  When you are ruled by and prey to anger, you mistake good for bad and bad for good.  Thus, mistakes are made that harm you.
4. An enemy wishes, Let him not be rich.  When angry, though you may have built up riches by the strength of your arm, earned by sweat, lawfully gained, yet the king’s treasure gains through fines due to your being prey to anger.
5. An enemy wishes, Let him not be famous.  Yet, when ruled by anger, what fame you may have acquired by diligence is lost through being prey to anger.
6. An enemy wishes, Let him have no friends.  When ruled by anger, the friends you do have, companions, and even relatives will keep away  from (or even be harmed by) your anger
7. An enemy wishes, Let him suffer death and hell afterwards.  When angry, prey to anger, ruled by anger, a person misconducts himself in body, speech, and mind, and by this misconduct, reappears in a state of deprivation, in a bad destination, in perdition, even in hell, through his being prey to anger.

For more details, read The Practice of Loving Kindness  

The underlying psychology behind the Brahmavihara practices are that if we can change our minds, then we can have more peace both for ourselves and for others. Metta is the antidote for anger, annoyance, and hatred. The Buddha himself listed 11 benefits of cultivating metta:

"Monks, for one whose awareness-release through good will is cultivated, developed, pursued, handed the reins and taken as a basis, given a grounding, steadied, consolidated, and well-undertaken, eleven benefits can be expected. Which eleven?

"One sleeps easily, wakes easily, dreams no evil dreams. One is dear to human beings, dear to non-human beings. The devas protect one. Neither fire, poison, nor weapons can touch one. One's mind gains concentration quickly. One's complexion is bright. One dies unconfused and — if penetrating no higher — is headed for the Brahma worlds."

 It is worth examining the sutra where the Buddha taught metta practice in some detail. There is, of course, a mythological story that goes along with it (adapted from here):

500 monks received individual instructions from the Buddha, and went to the Himalayan foothills to spend a four-month rainy season retreat living in intensive meditation.  According to the commentary by Buddhaghosa, it “appeared like a glittering blue quartz crystal: it was embellished with a cool, dense, green forest grove and a stretch of ground strewn with sand, resembling a pearl net or a silver sheet, and was furnished with a clean spring of cool water.”  The monks were captivated.  There were also some towns and markets nearby, where they could beg for alms. 

The residents apparently were pleased the monks were here, and offered to build each a hut near the grove so that they could spend their days under the ancient boughs of the majestic trees.  After settling down contentedly into these huts, each monk selected a tree to meditate under by day and night.  It was said that these great trees were inhabited by tree-deities who had celestial mansions with the trees as the base.  The deities did not like to remain above them, so stayed away, assuming the monks wouldn’t stay long.  But after several days, the deities decided to try to scare the monks away by showing them terrifying visions, making dreadful noises, and creating a sickening stench.  The monks soon could no longer concentrate on their meditations.  So they traveled back to the Buddha to ask what should be done. 

He recited the Karaniya Metta Sutta, which they learned by rote in his presence.  Then they went back, meditating on the underlying meaning, and projecting metta toward the wrathful deities.  As they returned, the hearts of the deities became so charged with warm feelings of good will that they invited the monks to occupy the bases of the trees, and helped to maintain them for their retreat. 

The practice of metta is therefore not simply to change our hearts, but it also has the power to change those of others.  It is sometimes likened to cultivating a great tree, that starts as a small seed, but makes it grow into a useful, generous, and noble tree, heavily laden with luscious fruits sending their sweet odor far and wide, attracting others to enjoy it.  These three aspects are included in the Karaniya Metta Sutta (sprouting of seed and growth are verses 1-6, fruition are verses 8-10).

Many Buddhist practices, including the metta practice, are designed to liberate us from suffering through two primary processes: Renunciation and Cultivation.

The Pali commentaries explain:

One loves all beings:  (a) by the non-harassment of all beings and thus avoids harassment;
(b) by being inoffensive (to all beings) and thus avoids offensiveness;  (c) by not torturing (all beings) and thus avoids torturing;  (d) by the non-destruction (of all life) and thus avoids destructiveness;  (e) by being non-vexing (to all beings) and thus avoids vexing;  (f) by projecting the thought, "May all beings be friendly and not hostile";  (g) by projecting the thought," May all beings be happy and not suffer";  (h) by projecting the thought, "May all beings enjoy well-being and not be distressed."In these eight ways one loves all beings; therefore, it is called universal love. And since one conceives (within) this quality (of love), it is of the mind. And since this mind is free from all thoughts of ill-will, the aggregate of love, mind and freedom is defined as universal love leading to freedom of mind.

From the passage above, it can be seen that metta implies both the "outgrowing" of negative traits - renunciation of offensive actions toward others (a through e above) - and the cultivation of positive traits (f through h above).

The traditional approach is to meditate on several phrases in seven phases.  The phrases are "May I be safe. May I have happiness and the causes of happiness. May I be healthy. May I live with ease." There are other phrases that can be used, and you should use the ones that feel best to you.  The seven phases are to start with offering these feelings to your self, then to a loved one, then to friends, then to a neutral person, then a disliked person, then all of the above as a group, and then all beings in all directions.

A few clarifications may be useful. 

Metta is not the same as love, which in Pali is pema.  Metta is instead related to mitta, or friend.  It is universal friendliness to all.  It is good will to all, but it doesn’t mean you become a door mat, sublimating your needs to those of others.

In the Cunda Kammaraputta Sutta, Buddha says the following phrase can be used: 'May these beings be free from animosity, free from oppression, free from trouble, and may they look after themselves with ease!' 

Note the last part, that they look after themselves with ease.  You are not saying you will do it for them.  You are not saying you will have to be there all the time, or be responsible for their happiness.  This is why it’s important to pair metta with equanimity.  It’s too easy to become overwhelmed if we believe that by changing our habits of mind and behavior to be more loving that we accept responsibility for others’ happiness.  As Thanissaro Bhikkhu says, actually, “most beings would be happier knowing that they could depend on themselves rather than having to depend on you.”

For people to be happy, we need to understand the causes of happiness and then act upon them.  If it harms someone, then it won’t lead to true happiness.

Regarding the mother-child part of the Metta Sutta, it’s often misunderstood to mean that we should be willing to give our lives for others.  But this is incorrect.  Buddha is saying that just as the mother works hard with dogged effort to protect her child, so should we work with just as much clarity to protect our good will, our metta. 

Good will is an attitude you can express for everyone without being hypocritical.  It recognizes that people will become truly happy not as a result of your caring for them, but as a result of their own skillful actions, and that the happiness of self-reliance is greater than any happiness that comes from dependency.

Furthermore, it’s more skillful than trying to be loving.  Not everyone is ready or wants your love.  It could actually make things worse to try to be loving toward everyone.  My ex doesn’t want me expressing my love for her.  But she’s totally content when I wish that she find her own happiness.

It’s difficult to generate metta toward a disliked person, and I’m not sure you should try for very long (at least not when just beginning this practice). It's better to pick someone who is only somewhat difficult, rather than the most difficult person in your life. If it's difficult to wish him/her happiness, it may help to start with somewhat different phrases, such as: May I have no hostility toward him/her, may he/she also not have any hostility toward me.  May he/she have happiness and the causes of happiness.

The Brahmaviharas: Equanimity

Meditation sometimes gets discussed as if it can fix everything.  One reason this is inappropriate is because each meditation technique focuses on specific goals.  If we desire full enlightenment (which I define as being able to live in one's life fully), most of us need to use multiple techniques.  As described previously, Mindfulness Meditation focuses primarily on familiarizing ourselves with our minds.  Once we've achieved some measure of stability, tranquility, and clarity through Mindfulness Meditation, we can be more effective using meditation techniques that focus on cultivating some positive aspects of ourselves.  In this post, we begin discussing Brahmaviharas, or the Four Heavenly Abodes, the Four Immeasurables, or any of about a dozen other translations into English, all of which basically mean that these are four qualities that help us live with a sense of peace, well-being, and joy.

These are four qualities we already have, at least some of the time.  The goal is to cultivate them through a number of meditation practices, and they help to change our habitual reactions to be more open and caring, as well as providing antidotes to difficult emotions.  Specifically, the four are:

• Metta: Loving-kindness - the antidote for selfishness, anger, fear, and negativity.
• Karuna: Compassion - the antidote for frustration and hatred.
• Mudita: Empathetic joy - the antidote for envy, jealousy, and resentment.
• Upeksha: Equanimity - the antidote for both clinging attachment and aversion.

Traditionally these are taught in approximately this order, but I like to start with equanimity, because (1) it is the hardest, and (2) it is necessary for the other three.

By Equanimity, I mean the sense of freedom and balance when we're not reacting to things and wishing they were different.  There are several common questions and misunderstandings about it, however, that should be addressed:

1. Is this the same as being resigned or indifferent?  There is real social injustice in the world, and I don't feel like I should just accept that.
• No, it is not resigning yourself or withdrawing.  There is indeed real injustice, and equanimity means first accepting that it exists.  Then the goal is to be alert for it, being mindful.  This will allow you to see when there is an opportunity to take some action to help.  But once you've taken the action you can do at the moment, then you have to let go of needing a particular outcome.  If you hold on too tightly to your desire for one outcome, then you'll likely miss the next opportunity to take action.
2. Once I achieve equanimity, does that mean that everything is smooth and easy?
• Bad news - No it doesn't.  We'll still have troubles and traumas in our lives.The difference is that we can be fully engaged with them, being completely alive, rather than trying not to experience what we're really experiencing.  This ironically allows us to not be overwhelmed by them.
3. What about when people do harmful things to me?  How can I have equanimity about that?
• A common misunderstanding of equanimity is that it means that we're supposed to adopt an attitude that "It's all good."  No, it bloody well is not!  People do terrible things sometimes.  Evil actions happen.  It is definitely not all good.  When someone is harmful to you, equanimity means that you get angry, you feel your hurt, and then you take some action to try to help the situation.  That might mean you get away from that person.  It means you don't spend your time blaming the perpetrator, nor do you blame yourself.  You understand that bad things happen all the time to all people, and that you can use this opportunity to connect with the pain that all beings feel.  But don't just keep being a doormat. As Thanissaro Bhikku notes, "There's a passage in which the Buddha taught the monks a chant for spreading goodwill to all snakes and other things....Strikingly, the chant concludes with the sentence, 'May the beings depart.'  This reflects the truth that living together is often difficult.

We usually get too caught up in our stories about things, or by wanting to control things, or by wanting only one specific outcome, that we fail to realize that things are really ok most of the time, even when we’re not getting what we want. 

Pema Chodron relates the story about the Zen master who, whenever asked by his students how he was, would respond, “I’m okay.”  Finally one student said, “Roshi, how can you always be okay?  Don’t you ever have a bad day?”  The Zen master answered, “Sure I do.  On bad days, I’m okay.  On good days, I’m also okay.”  We usually get so caught by the detail of whatever specific good feeling or bad feeling that we miss this broader truth that we’re actually basically okay right now.

There’s a Pali term, papañca, that means complication, proliferation, objectification (See the Madhupindika Sutta for details).  It is the tendency of the mind to proliferate thought after thought, to spin out the story.  This takes away our equanimity.  What should we do instead? In the moment that we notice that we’re caught, we can start by naming what’s going on.  Then after loosening the hold the thoughts have on us by recognizing them as thoughts, notice how it feels in the body.  This sounds simple, but what often happens when we try?  We get pulled away by papanca, because we are stuck in the trance of wanting to control experiences rather than just feeling them.  We feel that thinking about something gives us control.  We have practiced this so much that we believe it.  

One approach to helping to overcome this is a useful phrase:  Real, but not True.

You can work with this phrase both in meditation and in your daily life as soon as you start having a reaction to something.  What you are feeling is real.  The story that you are proliferating about it ("I don't deserve this! I can't believe you would say something like that! That person is a jerk!" etc...) is not True.  We have such a limited view on the world, that nothing we think about it can accurately represent what was really happening. Our perspective is real, but not true.  In meditation, you can bring to mind a difficult situation, focusing on the feeling you had, the series of thoughts you have about it, the story that you like to tell yourself about it. Focus on this until you can actually feel in your body the emotional reaction you have to it.  Then notice that the feelings you are having right now are real, but none of the story is accurate at this moment.  None of it is happening now.  The minute that we begin to create a story and make judgments, we solidify what is in reality a constantly shifting and changing set of feelings, thoughts, circumstances, causes, conditions, etc. What is happening to you now is caused by the vast set of interconnected causes and conditions, what Buddhists refer to as Dependent Arising. 

As noted in this post about how we view our "self," we have a very limited idea of what our self is.  We usually only consider voluntary actions of which we're conscious to be our selves.  Therefore, almost everything in our experience "happens to us," rather than the more accurate description that we are happening.  We don't even feel our body is ourself, that we are beating our hearts.  We see our lives as if we are rushing around, bumping into various semi-random experiences, having conflict with some of them, going along with others.  Alan Watts noted that if we looked into our bodies with a microscope, what would we see?  We would see lots of individual cells and proteins, rushing around, bumping into each other, fighting with each other, etc.  But at our normal level of perception, our body is working as a remarkably harmonious whole.  So, which level of magnification is right?

This is another way to cultivate equanimity.  Our normal level of perception of our lives is similar to that of our cells under a microscope.  We perceive our lives to be full of difficulty and conflict and stress.  At a broader level of perception, however, we're getting along remarkably harmoniously with each other and the world.

Consciousness evolved like a radar system, constantly looking out for trouble.  It therefore pays little attention to the things that are constant or that are generally going well.  We scan the environment, but only pay attention to what we think is likely to be trouble.  Constants are generally safe.  We therefore focus on the negatives, and in fact, we make so much of it that we come to identify our selves with the radar system.

But you are more than this scanning system.  You are in constantly shifting relationships with the external world that are, on the whole, extremely harmonious.  Our happiness is not dependent on things being just one certain way.  Once we cultivate this view, then we are free to be happy with all of our life.

One classical way to train in equanimity is to meditate on the phrase, "All beings are inheritors of their own karma.  Their happiness or suffering depend on their actions, not on my wishes for them" or any of several other similar phrases. Traditionally it would go through seven steps, first focusing on a neutral person, then a benefactor (someone who has helped you in the past), then a loved one, then someone with whom you have difficulty, then yourself, then all five of you together (neutral, benefactor, friend, enemy, self), then all sentient beings.

The goal of these types of practices is to learn to be able to sit in balance, being able to participate in all aspects of your life without being overwhelmed, and therefore able to take appropriate action when there is a chance. Sound like something you want? It just takes years of practice, that's all.