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.