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Happy Hour: Compassion Practice & The Breath (Tonglen)

Hello and welcome, everyone. It is lovely to see you and to be with you.

For today's practice, I'd like to invite us to explore the practice of compassion for others in a particular way. The practice of compassion is where metta^[1] (goodwill and love) meets challenge and suffering—either ours or others—and holds it with kindness.

One way to cultivate our hearts towards compassion is through a beautiful practice called tonglen^[2]. I've mentioned it before, and we've practiced it before. Some of you might be familiar with it, and some of you may not be; it's all good.

The idea of tonglen—and something that some people find challenging, which is really the crux of what I'd like to focus on—is connecting it to our breath. Breathing in, breathing out. That's one part of tonglen: breathing in suffering, and breathing out goodwill, love, kindness, and soothing.

What really makes tonglen possible, and actually makes it a beautiful practice rather than a heavy one, is the idea of this transformative capacity in our heart. Sometimes people veer off and think, "I don't like tonglen because it's heavy. I am breathing in the suffering of others." But suffering that is breathed in gets transformed without us doing anything. It's not ours, so we take the self out of it. If you make it about "me" breathing in the suffering of the world, it is too heavy. It gets to be too much. How does the "little me" do that? Well, it's not about the little me. It's about tapping into something unfathomable, something much more dimensionally divine. The capacities of this heart and this mind are much more expansive than the little me has access to, or can even envision.

This practice connects with the bodhisattva vow^[3] to support the freedom of all human beings. If you take that at face value, it's like, "Are you kidding me? The little me is going to do all that?" Well, it's not the little me. It's the sense of tapping into something bigger than myself. I am part of something that is so much bigger than me, something I can't even imagine. But I trust the kindness and goodness of my heart. As suffering is breathed in, it is transformed—as if there is this holy fire that transforms the suffering into goodwill, into the light of well-being that then shines out.

I'm just supporting this process that's happening on its own. I'm not doing it; I'm witnessing it. You participate as a witness, something that you take in and are perhaps even amazed by. It inspires you: "Wow, this is beautiful. This is amazing."

I also want to connect this to something else that was brought up in our groups: the realization that my suffering is a part of this transformation. It's a part of transforming suffering into goodness, care, and love. Seeing our own suffering in this way is an act of compassion. It's an act of taking it on, not in the sense of making it heavy ("Oh, I have to take on the suffering of the world"), but as a sense of aspiration.

Without saying much more about it, let's just engage with this practice and see what arises. Let's not get too heady about it, because the more I talk, I'm afraid the more we will try to analyze it. Just see what comes up. See what you might discover that may not have been evident. Let yourself be surprised: "Wow, this is beautiful. With each breath, this being is shining more love and compassion onto the world. What a capacity! I didn't know my heart was capable of that."

If at any point it gets to be too much, take a step back. Turn the compassion toward yourself, to your own heart, to your own body, to your own mind. There are no "shoulds" in this cultivation. See what is nourishing and what is supportive.

Without further ado, let's engage and practice together.

Guided Meditation

As always, we start by landing in our bodies, landing with the breath in this moment in time. Letting go of the words, of the thoughts, of the thinking, and just connecting with the breath and the body.

Feeling and receiving the breath in the abdomen. Relaxing and softening into the body. With each breath, arriving, taking refuge. Nowhere to go, nothing to do.

If thoughts are arising, and if awareness is now resting on thoughts or plans, it's okay. Have compassion, kindness, and humor toward your own mind. It's okay. Come back to your mind. Sweet little puppy of the mind running away here and there, it's okay. Come back. Rest, rest, rest on my lap, with the breath in the lower abdomen.

Each breath helps us land and arrive more deeply, here and now. Each out-breath relaxing and softening. It can be so delicious just to sit and receive the breath. Rest now.

I'd like to invite you to imagine the breath entering through the center of your chest, entering through your heart center. As it enters, it enlivens. It sets alight and brings alive a sense of kindness and goodwill. It awakens this light, this brightness in your heart. Goodwill and care shine out. As it shines out, it touches you first. It touches your body first.

This heart center, this proverbial heart center, is both yours—it's personal—and it's also not yours. It's connected with goodness, grace, beauty, and love that you are a part of, but that you don't own. It's too big for anyone to own, but you are definitely a part of it. It's as if it is an ocean, and yours is a drop of the same taste, the same quality. You are a part of this goodwill, care, and unconditional love. Whether or not you see it in this moment or feel it is accessible doesn't matter. No problem.

Each breath entering through the heart center awakens, enlivens, and brightens this spark, this fire, this light shining.

Let's imagine that your own suffering, your own challenges in this life—whether it's physical pain, difficulty in the body, the mind, the heart, or your life—are like a fog or a cloud. It gets breathed in, this suffering, this challenge, into the heart center. And it gets transformed. This suffering is transformed in this bright light and this holy fire, or whatever metaphor works for you.

One thing that works for me is to imagine this bright, burning, alchemical fire. Our suffering gets transformed, and it becomes soothing, calming, loving light that just shines out. And it brings comfort and ease. The transformation happens on its own. Even the breathing happens on its own. There's nothing for you to do; the body knows how to breathe. You are just holding witness.

Pain and suffering are breathed in as if a fog or smoke into the heart center, and transformed into bright, soothing light that brings comfort, ease, and healing. This heart center is transformative. It is energetically powerful beyond our imagination—the power to transform.

Let yourself feel drenched in the light of your own healing, of your own heart that shines outward.

Now, if you like, invite someone you care about, someone you're close to. Imagine their challenges, their suffering, something that's difficult for them. This cloud gets breathed into the heart center naturally, and is transformed into healing light, compassion, love, and care. It is breathed out through the heart center, bringing them ease and love. Offer your soothing wishes for their ease from their challenge.

Witnessing the process happening on its own, this breath being breathed in and breathed out is an offering. It's an offering of generosity and compassion that you make, knowing how challenging this situation is for them. For their suffering to be breathed in and transformed into healing is your offering of love to them. If this heart could take away the suffering of loved ones... offering this wish, offering our goodness.

Again, this transformation is happening on its own. The cloud is brought into the heart center, transformed into love and care, and breathed out, shining out 360 degrees, touching your loved one.

Now, if you wish, you can include your own challenges and suffering alongside theirs. The cloud includes both your difficulty and your loved one's. Entering the heart center, it is transformed on its own, shining out, bringing peace and ease to yourself and to your loved one. With each breath, more peace and ease is born into our world.

This practice helps us not turn away from suffering, but instead recognize the strength and courage—cœur, meaning heart—of our heart. The courage of our heart to open up to suffering, to trust in its own transformative power.

You're welcome to stay with this for the last couple of minutes, or if you wish, let this cloud that is breathed in represent the challenges and suffering of so many beings around this world. Transformed in the alchemical oven of the heart, shining out far and wide as our goodwill and care. Inclining our heart to care, not shying away from the challenges of other beings on this planet.

There is so much greed, hatred, and delusion^[4]. So much suffering. The light is breathed out with kindness and goodwill, wishing all beings everywhere—including this being that is me—clarity, well-being, freedom from suffering, peace, ease, and healing.

Letting all of our lights shine. All of these lights are ours, but they are also part of a bigger light. May all beings everywhere be well and free, including ourselves.

Thank you so much for your practice.

Reflections and Q&A

Tonglen can be an intense practice and can bring so much up for so many of us. I'd love to hear your questions, reflections, or comments.

Claire, please.

Claire: Thanks, Nikki. I couldn't help but get my hand up because what you worked on tonight is so closely integrated into my personal life. I'm an only child; both my parents died when I was quite young. I went about my life in a pretty normal way until about 15 or 20 years ago when I got very involved in spiritual work. Within about ten years of that, I started experiencing situations where people died unexpectedly, and I was asked to help the survivor. The most dramatic situation will always be with me because it was so moving. Someone who knew my story asked the Red Cross to send me down to Ground Zero to do grief counseling, and it was just amazing. It's sort of a testimonial to what you said because, for me, it is so enriching to be able to make that gift to others. I can't describe it; it's like I'm a channel, and I'm just giving to them what I was given. It's just a very important part of who I am, so I wanted to share that with you.

Nikki: Thank you, Claire. Thank you so much for your hand shooting up on its own to share this as a gift, as a part of your practice. I so appreciate that it comes from your own background and your own suffering, losing your parents at a young age. Turning towards it, not shying away, builds up the courage of our hearts. You going to Ground Zero to offer that support is a gift that strengthens your heart.

Claire: It just made me so grateful that I could help others that way.

Nikki: Thank you so much for sharing. I'm getting chills as you share this. Richard also says in the chat, Touching sharing. In tears. Thank you, Claire. I really appreciate it.

Are there other reflections, questions, or comments? What worked, what was challenging? It's all welcome. Were there particular images that worked for you as you were finding your own way with this practice, especially with the heart being this transformative, alchemical oven or orb of light?

Jeannie, I see your hand.

Jeannie: Thank you so much. The idea that brings me the most joy is focusing on the light that's all around us. It's just so uplifting for me, and I really appreciate it. It makes my heart just kind of go out everywhere.

Nikki: Nice, thank you for sharing that, Jeannie. Lovely. And this light, as you're saying, is not just my light, but part of the light. Realizing that this is not just "this little light of mine," but it's also part of a bigger light. Let it shine!

Richard says in the chat, It was a welcome reminder for me that the suffering is not my suffering, but our suffering can be transformed when faced together. Think globally, act locally. Yes.

David also thanked Claire for the reflection, bringing up this archetype of the wounded healer that Jung^[5] talks about: the more we suffer, the more we're able to identify and support others' suffering. Indeed.

So dear ones, the time has come for us to open our hearts to each other in small groups. It is such a rich practice for us to sit just for six or seven minutes with each other. You can share your metta and compassion in silence, or you can speak if you wish to share your practice. Use this time in whichever way is helpful for you. I'm opening the rooms now. Take care of yourselves, take care of each other.

[Group breakout session]

Welcome back, everyone. We have a couple of minutes for reflections. What came up for you? What did you notice or observe when practicing with each other in groups?

Fred, please.

Fred: I wonder if you would say a little more about how the practice happens without our willing it, without effort. How it's like breathing?

Nikki: Yeah. With tonglen, there are so many pieces. It's like a multi-ring circus: there's the breath, there's the imagery, so it takes a while to get it all together. It may not be immediate, but at some point, it just seems like the breath comes in, the suffering is breathed in, it gets transformed, and it is shone outward as kindness, love, and healing. It just all happens. Instead of, "Okay, now I'm going to make it better," there's not a sense of willing it; it's a sense of witnessing.

What's beautiful about this way of doing compassion practice—and there are lots of beautiful ways, such as using phrases like, May you be free from suffering—is that it doesn't feel so willful. Phrases are more active, whereas here, the breath comes in, the breath comes out. We are part of this, but it's just witnessing it happen. Does that clarify a little bit?

[Fred gives a thumbs up]

Great, thanks, Fred. It's a beautiful practice, but it can be clunky and take a little while at first. I learned this practice years ago when I was going through a nine-month teacher training at Stanford's CCARE^[6] (Center for Compassion and Altruism Research and Education). At first, it was like, "Okay, all these pieces!" But at some point, it really became alive for me, and I loved it. It became my primary practice for a while. I just loved the sense that with each breath, I'm holding witness to a sense of goodness. I wasn't turning away from suffering, and it just became easy. It felt like it happened on its own. When it gets going, it can be really, really lovely.

It's 7:00, and we have come to the end of the session. Claire, I see your hand.

Claire: I just wanted to add really quickly, my original Buddhist practice preceded all of these events, and I worked on the sutra of compassion for two years.

Nikki: There you go, exactly! Beautiful. Thank you for that.

Yes, may compassion be our way of being. May it support us to meet the challenges in our lives, not to turn away from them or from the suffering in other people's lives. A heart that is resting in compassion has the courage (cœur, meaning heart) to be with compassion and not cower. All these 'c' words!

May you all be well, safe, and free from suffering. Thank you for your practice. May all beings be well, safe, and happy.