Loving Oneself as if a Beloved Other; Taking Responsibility through Love
This is an AI-generated transcript from auto-generated subtitles for the video Meditation: Loving Oneself as if a Beloved Other; Dharmette: Taking Responsibility through Love. It likely contains inaccuracies, especially with speaker attribution if there are multiple speakers.
The following talk was given by Nikki Mirghafori at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on March 16, 2026. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.
Loving Oneself as if a Beloved Other
Greetings friends. Hello and welcome to the 7 a.m. practice together. I'm Nikki Mirghafori. Delighted to be with you in this moment in time whether it's morning, afternoon, evening, wherever you are. Gil[1] is traveling today and he will be back tomorrow. So, I'm just here with you for one day on the theme of mettā[2], which is a theme that is very near and dear to my heart, pun intended. I love teaching and practicing mettā. So without further ado, let's practice together.
And the theme I would like to invite us to practice with today is mettā, a loving-kindness for ourselves as if we were a beloved other. As if we were a beloved other. It's often easier for people, especially in the West, to have mettā for those we love, others, the dear beings, easy beings, which I know that Gil discussed some days ago. And yet, when it comes to ourselves, we treat ourselves often with more severity or with judgment. And this invitation is actually a little different from the usual ways that we do mettā for self. It's really to step outside of ourselves and see ourselves as, "Oh, this beloved, this being." Anyway, without saying too much more, I'll just lead it and see how it might land for you. Something might open up, I hope, or it might just be something different to experience. In any case, let's practice together.
[Gasps] So, arriving in our bodies. Always arriving in the body first. Moment of arrival. Feeling of embodiment first and foremost. Feeling our feet on the earth. If we're sitting on a chair, if we're sitting on a cushion, feeling the underside of our legs, kissing the earth, feeling our sit bones, giving our whole weight to our sit bones. Allowing the entire weight of the upper body to be released, to be softened into the contact points of our bottom with the earth, the sit bones. Letting ourselves sink more deeply. Resting the shoulders, our head, our chest. Allowing the weight, the center of gravity, to drop down, down, down.
Starting with the top of our head, our forehead, eyes resting in their sockets, letting our face droop as if we were inviting gently a beloved other, a dear friend, a beloved other. "Here, sweetheart, soften," inviting your body to relax. "You don't have to hold anything up, darling." Any sweet words that you can conjure up, or take mine. Any words of friendliness and care. "Oh, dear heart, you can rest, soften, let go. It's okay." Inviting this whole dear body that does so much. It does so much to just be. To release any tension that's extra, not needed.
And there may be parts of the body that this morning are tight or achy or haven't been functioning too well. Perhaps some internal organs. As if we're holding again the beloved other, a beloved child that's hurting. Giving extra love, extra care, extra patience, extra understanding, appreciation to these body parts that are doing the best they can. And because of causes and conditions beyond our control, their best looks like this, feels like this. "Thank you. Thank you, dear eyes, dear hands, dear back," or whatever part of the body you want to give some extra care to.
And just as we perhaps step out of the ownership of being the body part and hold them with care from a third-person perspective, you can continue with any body parts that are challenged. Give them more care, love, with no expectations of them performing better, functioning better, the pain going away, healing them. No expectations, no strings attached. Unconditional love and care, just because mettā has no strings attached.
And if you notice there are strings attached, just notice them. No need to chastise oneself. Just notice the strings. And the more we notice the strings, they loosen over time. No harsh knives needed. Just see the wisdom of awareness. Giving love and care to the parts of the body that specially need it right now, as if they are beloved others. The same way you would care for a dear baby or child, beloved child, beloved other.
And now, considering that this whole body—all parts of the body they make up are not equivalent to, but this dear being who is me as all these parts of the body. So can we direct the mettā to this dear being who is me as a beloved other? Again, stepping out of ourselves, seeing ourselves as this human being who is doing their best. Hopes and dreams, aspirations, neuroses, challenges, shortcomings, beauty, kindness, the whole catastrophe of being a human, and love them like, "Oh, dear heart. Oh, here you are, sweetheart. I wish you well."
"May you be safe from inner and outer harm," knowing there is no perfect safety, but just offering it anyway. "May you be safe. May you be happy, dear beloved other, dear beloved. May you be happy. May you have joy in your heart. I know things are not always easy. I wish you happiness. May you be healthy, or as healthy as possible, your dear body." Again, addressing yourself as a beloved other, stepping outside of yourself, seeing yourself from a third-person perspective of someone who really cares, holds you with great regard, loves unconditionally. You don't have to earn it.
And the fourth wish, "May you have ease, dear one. May your life unfold with ease."
Either with phrases of mettā that you already have, or wordless, stepping outside of ourselves. Mettā for this dear being who is us. Who is me. Connecting with yourself as if you had stepped out of yourself. Looking at yourself from a third-person perspective: beauty, goodness, flaws. Seeing yourself from the perspective of someone who really loves you, really cares for you, sees you clearly and really loves you. And mettā for yourself as a beloved other, a beloved someone else. Wishing yourself well. "May you be safe. May you be happy. May you be healthy. May you have ease, dear one."
In these last few minutes, allowing yourself to be seen perhaps as a beloved other, as a beloved child, stepping outside of yourself, perhaps chubby, cute. Maybe some endearments arise for this being who is you. This beloved other, as if a beloved other.
And as we bring this sitting meditation to a close, appreciating yourself, this being who is you again as a beloved other: he, she, they showed up. Thank you. And appreciating, loving, having the best interest of yourself in mind, wishing yourself the best, appreciating yourself. No need for judgment. "Oh, you were distracted." This, that—doesn't matter. You showed up, planted seeds. May these seeds that we've planted together be of benefit for the awakening of ourselves and all beings everywhere. May all beings be happy. May all beings be free, including ourselves.
[Bell]
Thanks everyone. Thanks for your practice. Pause for a moment.
Taking Responsibility through Love
Hello, good day, good Monday everyone. So, the theme for this period has been mettā, and I will make my offering into this beautiful thread, into this beautiful tapestry that Gil has been weaving for you all with the practices of the heart, with mettā.
So today's theme is mettā for oneself. We cannot have enough kindness, cultivate enough friendliness and kindness for ourselves. Filling our own cup first allows us to fill cups of other people, other human beings, other beings near and far. Because then we don't feel so needy. We don't go around and say, "Love me, love me, love me, tell me I'm great so that I can feel okay about myself." Sometimes we love others because we tacitly want them to love us back, because there's not enough sense of contentment and love and okayness here.
I know I'm not perfect. I know I make mistakes, and I still care for myself. I love myself, and that is a really important gift of mettā for oneself. It frees the heart from these attachments. As you've been listening perhaps to Buddhist teachings, you've heard before that attachment, wanting, clinging—this solidifying around wanting—is what causes hurt and harm. And if you think of some relationships that you've had, maybe or still even have, there is this sense of, "Oh, love me back, love me, give me." Not to get into psychology—there are cases where that's appropriate. But just when the heart has this tightness... When there is a sense of love and care for ourselves, contentment: "I'm okay, I'm not perfect, I make mistakes, I'm like any other human being, I learn," yet there is this deep acceptance of the goodness. Seeing the goodness.
Because mettā for ourselves also allows us to see our own goodness and accept the flaws. Not to say, "Oh, resignation, I'm just a flawed human being," no. But to see the flaws without self-flagellation. To keep working, to keep supporting, loving the neuroses, the flaws into gifts, into wholesomeness, instead of hiding them out of shame or beating ourselves up. That really ties our feet and bludgeons us; we can't make any improvement or any work towards becoming a better version of ourselves, better angels of ourselves. And really, the foundation of all of this is love for ourselves, care for ourselves.
Often folks have this sense—and I'll name this what comes up with mettā for self—that, "Oh, if I love myself, or if I love myself at all, or if I love myself too much, I'll become a couch potato, or I won't get anything done. I need to push myself to accomplish things in the world. Or I won't take responsibility for my actions." So, there's some research I want to share with you.
Very briefly, the top line of the research result is that if there is mettā, if there is self-care, if there's just kindness for oneself, studies suggest that we actually take more responsibility for our actions instead of less. It's the other way around. In this study, they took two groups and had both groups reflect on something they hadn't done so well, that they regretted—perhaps some moral indiscretion, something they had a heavy heart for: "I wish I hadn't said that. I wish I hadn't done that." We all have these things in our lives.
They had both groups do that. Then for one group, they had them invoke some self-warmth, some warm self-regard. Basically invoking some mettā, some kindness for themselves. The other was the control group; they were thinking about something else, but not warm self-regard. Then they had both of these groups write about the unwholesome thing they had done. Those who had mettā for themselves, who were invited to have a feeling of self-regard, took responsibility. The other group tended to point the finger more: "Well, I said this thing because this other person said that thing." They were pointing the finger. Instead, the group that had self-mettā took more responsibility: "Oh yes, that thing I did was not wise. That was not kind. And it's okay. I am still okay. I take responsibility for this unwholesome thing I did."
If you think about the dynamics, when there is mettā, then we feel, "Oh yes, we screwed up, but I still love you, sweetie. It's okay. You're doing your best, right? You'll do better." There's a sense of wholesome remorse to make up for something that we've done that hasn't been wholesome.
Whereas, if there is no kindness, if it's just self-flagellation and complete berating of ourselves, there's not enough space in the psyche. There's not enough kindness in the bucket to allow for us to admit we did something wrong. Because if we admit we did something wrong, then ooh, daggers will come out. We're going to injure ourselves. Right? So if there is no kindness in the bucket, then it's much safer to say, "I didn't do anything wrong," and just point the finger. You see, one wouldn't take responsibility. This is how the mechanism of the psyche will work.
If there is kindness, then there is more capacity for taking wholesome responsibility. "Oh, that was not kind. I screwed up. I think I need to apologize." So instead of making us just lie on the couch and eat bonbons, it actually makes us more responsible. We don't always need the whip. There are ways to replace the whip with love. Love for ourselves and also love for others. We want to serve. We want to be a force for good. So we don't have to beat ourselves up to perform and do. There's a sense of love and care for ourselves, and love for the world and others. And that love for others—the basis of it is when we fill our own cup. Going back to the metaphor that I love so much: when we pour the cup, it pours out and can fill other people's cups.
The theme that I brought in today—this idea of a beloved other—I love this. To step out of ourselves, to see ourselves as this dear being, the same way that others who love and care for us see us, without strings attached. If in this practice you go through the rolodex of your mind and another being who sees you doesn't come up, then seeing ourselves as a beloved other from the eyes of the Buddha or Kuan Yin[3] or the divine, a compassionate loving being: "Oh, here's this being." So from that perspective, seeing ourselves as a beloved other.
I wanted to close with a poem today. I like this poem. It is by Maggie Smith, and it's called "Bride." I'm going to ask that you change the gender to be appropriate for you. In this poem, she sees herself as a beloved other, and it's a beautiful example.
I will read an excerpt. You can ask this question:
How long have I been wed to myself? Calling myself darling. Dressing for my own pleasure each morning. Choosing perfume to turn me on. How long have I been alone in this house but not alone? (I like to think of the house being this body.) Married less to the man, to the woman, silvering in the mirror. I know the kind of wife I need, and I become her, the one who will leave this earth at the same instant I do. I am my own bride, lifting the veil to see my face. Darling, I say, I have waited for you all my life.
I love this sense of seeing ourselves as our own bride, our own partner. So, may you treat yourself as a beloved other today. Lifting your own veil and loving yourself with your own goodness, beauty, and challenges. May our self-care, self-love spread, shine, to care, to love the whole world without strings attached. May all beings be happy. May all beings be well. Thank you all for your practice.
Gil will be back tomorrow. And many of you know already, but I teach Happy Hour from 6:00 to 7:00 p.m. Pacific time. So there are many mettā and compassion recordings available on AudioDharma, and you can also drop in and join us. It's on Zoom and we have interactive practice, and you get to talk with other practitioners. It's very cozy. So come to Happy Hour if you like mettā. Come practice with us.
Have a great day. Take care of yourselves. Take care of somebody else if you can as well. All right. Good day. Take care. Good to be with you. Bye.
Gil Fronsdal: The primary teacher at the Insight Meditation Center. ↩︎
Mettā: A Pali word often translated as "loving-kindness," "friendliness," or "goodwill." ↩︎
Kuan Yin: Also known as Guanyin, the Bodhisattva of Compassion in East Asian Buddhism. Original transcript said "orwan," corrected to "Kuan Yin" based on context. ↩︎