Moon Pointing

Brahmavihāras: Equanimity (4 of 5)

Date:
2020-12-31
Speakers:
Gil Fronsdal [Talks] [@AudioDharma]
Location:
Insight Meditation Center [Talks] [@YouTube]
Generation:
2026-10-23 (gemini-3.1-pro-preview) [Prompt Template] [Raw Markdown] [YouTube Video]
Keywords:
Brahmavihāras: Equanimity (4 of 5)

This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video above. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.

Brahmavihāras: Equanimity (4 of 5)

The topic in this fourth talk on the equanimity brahmavihāra[1] is the relationship between equanimity—this kind of love, care, and goodwill that is non-reactive, non-contracted, and non-agitated—and the world. In the classic language, it isn't automatically involved in pursuing, being attracted to, or chasing things, nor is it automatically involved in repulsion, pushing away, or pulling away. Rather, it is a mind that is able to be present and open to what's happening in the world, and to maintain its goodwill, friendliness, love, and care in spite of the dangers in the world.

Now we are coming into the area where wisdom and practice really come to a kind of maturity. It's easy enough to have an idea that we're supposed to be loving, everything is wonderful, and in practice, we just accept things as they are. That can become a pastoral image of life—an idea that everything is wonderful and good. Sometimes, when there are Buddhist teachings about just sitting with awareness, accepting things as they are, being open to how things are, and being non-reactive, I feel that sometimes these are the teachings of people who are relatively privileged and well-off, who don't have a lot of the challenges in their lives that many people in this world have. Many people live in danger zones of all kinds: in their families, their communities, and their countries. There are dangers in this world. So, how do we maintain a loving heart, a caring heart, in the face of dangers?

That is one of our important topics, and perhaps it's a nice way of also coming to the end of 2020. A year ago, many of us did not see the dangers that were going to come this year. There is a surprising amount of danger, even fear, that now exists in our society. Did it exist a year ago? Or maybe caution, at least. I mean, it's remarkable to walk down the street and people will avoid each other. I'll step out into the street and let someone else have the sidewalk; someone else will step out into the street and let me have the sidewalk, even though everyone is wearing masks. Who would have thought? To me, it's kind of like living in a science fiction movie. That's such a radical change in our society.

So how can we be wiser with this? How can we be equanimous with this in a wise, appropriate way? And how can we learn from 2020 so that we enter 2021 with more wisdom, more street smarts, more equanimity, and more love and compassion, given what happened over the course of this year, how we've learned, and how we've matured with all the challenges we've had?

I say all this because in the ancient text, the book called The Path of Purification[2], they talk about the near enemy of the equanimity brahmavihāra. The near enemy is what looks like equanimity but isn't really equanimity. What looks like equanimity is called "ignorant equanimity," and it is equanimity that is ignorant of the dangers in the world.

It's easy to be equanimous if one doesn't see the dangers and doesn't understand what's going on in this life. It says the near enemy is the ignorant equanimity that is not aware of danger. The far enemy is greed and repulsion. It is not possible to have either greed or repulsion and equanimity. But this near enemy, which doesn't really allow true equanimity to be there, is not aware of danger.

I don't think we hear very often in Buddhist teachings: "Sit down, close your eyes, be aware, be in the present moment, and now become aware of danger—that there is danger in this life." Life is fragile. Life is short. They say even with a hundred-year lifespan, it's a short life. In life, it is easy to get sick. There are people who are not good people; you can go to the wrong places at the wrong times, and it is dangerous. We live in a world of danger where our lives can change forever on a dime. I've known plenty of people, including myself, where an accident happens and we're never quite the same again. We didn't anticipate the danger that would come.

This is not meant to be a depressing way to end 2020, but it is the classic way of appreciating that true equanimity also understands that the world has dangers. We learn to develop the strength, capacity, openness, and wisdom of how to be equanimous and loving in the face of danger. Without that message, it's easy to think that we're supposed to just live in a protected environment, in a monastery or someplace where we're completely safe, so we can do this work of just being completely non-attached and unfazed by what goes on in the world.

But I hope that's not what we're doing. I hope we're learning how to live in the world as it is, with its dangers, and learning to be loving in a way that doesn't succumb to repulsion, actively going after things, or actively pulling away automatically. Automatically going to help when help is not really needed, trying to fix things, or automatically trying to push away or deny what's there.

It is said that equanimity is one of the most mature and developed forms of Buddhist practice. It comes after many years of practice to really have a strong sense of equanimity, so it's kind of like the North Star. But it definitely doesn't make us indifferent.

In fact, sometimes here in the West, people often say that the near enemy of equanimity is indifference. It is certainly not indifference. It involves a deep caring and a deep love. Having it is like having an open window; it is not holding on to something that can be hit or hurt.

A different analogy for this is that if we hold our hands in a fist, something can hit it and it can hurt because it doesn't move very well. But if we open our hands wide, with the fingers spread wide, things can hit, but we flow with it. Like a bamboo flowing with the wind back and forth, or maybe it just goes right through the open fingers and doesn't really touch us.

We go into the world very differently if we're fisted up and knotted up in something than if we go with an open hand and an open heart. This is the ability to not have attachments, not have clinging, and not have self-definitions we hold on to for dear life. Instead, we can just relax the heart, relax the mind, open up the clinging, and in that, be able to be present for danger. Because then, actually, we're in less danger.

We might be in physical danger, but the heart is never in danger if the heart doesn't cling. One implication of Buddhist teachings is that the greatest danger we live with is a danger we provide ourselves: the danger of clinging. The danger of giving up our ethical life, the danger of giving up our ease and our peace, the danger of giving up our love and our freedom, which we do if we cling and get attached.

There is no intentional unethical life without clinging. Unintentional might be a better word. The deepest well-being of the heart is not lost because of what people do and what the world does around us. It's lost because of how we react and respond to that. So we must realize that there's danger here, too.

As we practice, learning how to stay open—like an open window—is partly so we are protected from ourselves. Then, we are much more protected in the heart from the dangers of the world. Things might still happen to us, but they don't run into this tight fist of the heart or the mind where things are hard and difficult.

So we cultivate and discover the form of love called equanimity—the flavor of equanimous love that is able to be equanimous and loving in the face of danger. This is a tall order. It's not an easy thing to discover how to do, but today you might spend time reflecting on this. Maybe you wouldn't be served very well by arguing against what I'm saying. There might be arguments to make against it, but perhaps you're better served by exploring and experimenting with this idea: how can you stay loving, caring, and friendly in the face of what you might think is dangerous?

Don't put yourself in danger, please. Please take care of yourself. But maybe you can explore this and ride the edges of it. Maybe there are dangers that you're worried about that aren't as dangerous as you think, as you open up and no longer have anything knotted up inside. Maybe talk to friends about this and explore the topic of having equanimous goodwill in the face of danger.

This seems like a wonderful way of learning from this last year, reflecting on it, and becoming better people because of it. Instead of being the victim of the past year, we can really build and prepare for how to go into the next year, 2021, wiser, more caring, more loving, more mindful, and more for the benefit of the world.

I look forward to seeing as many of you as possible tomorrow morning, if you're up early enough, and we'll welcome in the new year with the last reflections on equanimity. Thank you.



  1. Brahmavihāra: A series of four Buddhist virtues and the meditation practices made to cultivate them. They are loving-kindness (mettā), compassion (karuṇā), empathetic joy (muditā), and equanimity (upekkhā). ↩︎

  2. The Path of Purification (Visuddhimagga): A great treatise on Theravada Buddhist doctrine written by Buddhaghosa in the 5th Century in Sri Lanka. It serves as a comprehensive manual condensing and systematizing the theoretical and practical teachings of the Buddha. ↩︎