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.