Moon Pointing

Happy Hour: In Praise of Equanimity

Date:
2022-11-25
Speakers:
Nikki Mirghafori [Talks] [@AudioDharma]
Location:
Insight Meditation Center [Talks] [@YouTube]
Generation:
2026-06-08 (gemini-3-pro-preview) [Raw Markdown] [YouTube Video]
Keywords:
Happy Hour: In Praise of Equanimity
[] [Jump To Below] [AudioDharma]

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.

Happy Hour: In Praise of Equanimity

Hi everyone, it's lovely to be with you. The season of holidays in the US has started, with Thanksgiving passing and Christmas coming. Holidays are both lovely and stressful. We can focus on one or the other, but it's both. In some ways, it's not so different from the rest of life; it's lovely and it's stressful. Both of those we can say about life.

What I wanted to reflect on tonight, and invite us to practice with, is the fourth brahmavihāra[1]. The brahmavihāras are the practices of the heart: mettā[2] (loving-kindness) being the first one, karuṇā[3] (compassion) the second, muditā[4] (vicarious joy) the third, and the fourth one is equanimity, or upekkhā[5].

Equanimity is this beautiful expansion of the heart to be with whatever is, with stability and with care. It's not aloofness. It's not, "I don't care, talk to the hand, I'm not listening." That's not equanimity. We know that already, but I always want to remind us. Equanimity can be more nuanced compared to the other brahmavihāras, and yet it is the faculty that the other brahmavihāras rest upon. Loving-kindness, compassion, and vicarious joy rest on equanimity. If they don't rest on this stability, this open-heartedness, and the spaciousness of equanimity, they can veer into their opposites. Mettā can become clinginess. Compassion can become grief or distress. Muditā can veer into pride or envy. If it doesn't have this open-heartedness—spacious and stable—it falters.

Equanimity is not cold or aloof; otherwise, it wouldn't be part of the brahmavihāras. All the brahmavihāras have mettā in them. So wait, how are these in the same family? Equanimity isn't cold after all; it has care in it. It has enough care in it to be stable, to be present, to be with what is.

I'd like to invite us to relate to equanimity tonight as a complete spaciousness of the heart and mind. Especially if challenging emotions or difficulties arise, there is a sense of equanimity, peace, and ease, which can veer into mettā for others, vicarious joy, gratitude for ourselves, or compassion if there are challenges. Equanimity is responsive. We start with equanimity, and under different flavors, there are different places we can go. Aloofness says, "You're not paying attention, whatever." Equanimity really opens the heart and faces what is.

One last thing before we start practicing is that it's such a beautiful quality of the heart. The more we expand our heart and make our minds spacious through equanimity, the more we can contain. We actually surprise ourselves as to what we're made of. We can just surprise ourselves: "Wow, I can be with this too. I'm not losing my confidence nor my temper. I have a sense of spaciousness to meet what's happening with an appropriate response." So, in praise of equanimity, this beautiful spacious quality of the heart.

It is really glorious. Equanimity is such a sublime state to cultivate. A spaciousness of the heart is very generous. Equanimity is also the ground for generosity, just being with all there is. I could talk a lot more about the joys and the perfection of this beautiful quality, which is actually one of the pāramīs[6] in Buddhist practice, but let's just practice together. Let's cultivate and enjoy a taste of it for ourselves. If there are areas tonight where equanimity does not arise, or its opposites—clinging or aversion—arise, that's not a problem. Use the opposite of equanimity as a pointer. "Oh, equanimity is lacking here. Can I be with the lack of equanimity present here?" Then you can bring equanimity to the lack of equanimity. That's like an Aikido move in practice.

Let's practice together.

Guided Meditation: The Boat on the Water

Arriving. Arriving in this body, arriving in this moment. Sitting with integrity, upright. And making space for whatever is present right now. There could be fatigue, there could be boredom, there could be resistance, there could be joy, anxiety... whatever is present. Hi everything, hello. Bring it on. Open your heart. Spacious, stable. This body connected, rooted. Everything can be here just as it is.

Connecting with the breath. Your sit bones on the cushion or the chair, hands on the lap. Relaxing the body, resting, connecting to the earth. Let the in-breath be received in the lower abdomen. The entirety of the in-breath, the pause between the in and out breath. The out-breath, entirety of it, and the pause. Calming, soothing each breath.

The joy of just being breathed. Nothing to do, nowhere to go. Taking refuge in this moment. Just be breathed.

Imagine your body is a boat on a lake that is still and placid[7]. It's floating. Letting your body relax, soften. It's a nice day, maybe it's sunny, warm, pleasant. This body, this boat floating in the water. Meeting the circumstances. Floating. Your body can relax. The boat is stable. Let yourself enjoy this sense of relaxed stability, moving on the water.

Relaxed in this image. Enjoying the day. Warm, sunny. Birds coming, sitting, and leaving. Now imagine that there is some wind. There are some waves on the water. And the boat meets them. Waves of life.

Let your body be relaxed. Soften yourself to your breath. No fear, no worry. This is just how things are. The condition of life is to have some waves. The condition of the water is to have some waves.

Perhaps the energy of the waves actually brings a sense of aliveness, energy, and vitality into the body and mind. Riding the waves. In your boat, in your raft. Still enjoying the sun, the birds, and the waves.

Spaciousness of the heart. Calm, openness. Not contracted in fear, but open and spacious.

Now imagine another boat that's floating and coming towards you. And maybe at first there is some concern, or worry, fear, or anger about the other person who is driving the boat right towards you. Until you realize there's no one in the boat. It's an empty boat[8]. It's drifting. It's moving towards you, born of causes and conditions. It's impersonal.

Perhaps you realize that this boat is moved by the currents, the wind. It's also born of causes and conditions. So much of it is impersonal. No need to take it so personally, or be concerned and contracted. Maybe the heart can relax and be more spacious, appreciating the interdependence of all things. The wind, the flow, the waves. The energy of life.

Let the heart relax in the midst of all of it, still meeting it with kindness, with wisdom, with compassion. Notice any state of contraction, and invite it to be spacious. Appreciate that we are moved by and part of all these causes and conditions. It is not permanent, not personal, not inherently satisfactory. And yet, miraculous. Amazing. This whole being filled with all of it. You are a part of it, no matter how the waves go.

Allow the heart to relax with the comings and goings of things, with the waves as we float. The comings and goings of random boats on the water. Enjoying the sun on your face, knowing you're alive. You get to ride these waves—how amazing.

You can imagine maybe some challenge that's happening right now in your life as a wave in the water. A wave that comes and goes. Yet another wave... here it is. It's okay. Be spacious. Calm, relaxed, or maybe even joyous riding this wave, floating through it. Your vessel is stable, sturdy.

Just waves. It's okay. You've been through a million waves in your life. You've grown, experienced in wisdom how to ride them. May these waves help me grow in kindness towards myself and others. Growing in wisdom.

Have kindness and appreciation for yourself. You've showed up, you've done your best. If there were a lot of waves during this practice period, it's okay. Let your heart be spacious and kind. Bow into the waves.

Invite a brightness in the Dharma in this moment. A sense of clarity. Offering this goodness, co-created together in this practice, to all beings everywhere. Our lives are intertwined with everyone else, everything else. Amazing. May we be of service. May our lives, our breath, our work, our thoughts, our being alive, be of service to the goodness in the world in ways we cannot even imagine. May all beings everywhere, including ourselves, be free.

Reflections and Q&A

Thanks everyone, thanks for your practice. This was a new way for us to explore this practice of equanimity. We had never done it this way at Happy Hour with this kind of a guided meditation with waves. It's just a different way to explore it. If there is a nugget of something in this visualization and the way we related to it that worked for you, great. Keep it. And maybe it didn't; no problem. You tried it on for size, and you can let it go. It's all good.

Questions, comments, reflections? What did you notice? What was it like for you? There was also a little invitation there with anattā[9] and insight, if you caught it.

Jerry: I know in Buddhism intention is very important. I don't question your intentions, Nikki, but in the lay press, gaslighting is a popular topic nowadays. One of the things you mentioned was "don't take it so seriously," which is often a term used by people who may not have good intentions to try to undermine another person. It's like saying you're not in touch with reality, and it can be a form of bullying. I know that wasn't your intention, and I didn't take it that way, but when I heard that phrase, I wondered how that fit.

Nikki: Actually, I want to pause you for a moment, Jerry, because I remember saying, "don't take it so personally." I didn't say "seriously." That's very different. In dharmic language, I'm using that very specifically. Not taking it seriously is different—I can appreciate how that might bring alarms. But not taking it personally is the concept we're working with here, and the concept of anattā.

It implies impersonality—that things are ungovernable, not-self, not me, myself, nor mine. There is a deep wisdom teaching in Buddhism about impersonality. Having practiced as long as you have, I trust you have had insights into the impersonality of the body or the thought process. Taking your thoughts personally, or taking your body aches personally—it's not personal. We suffer because we take things so personally. The invitation is not to take things personally because they aren't personal. There are a lot of levels[10], and right now I'm talking about the shallow level of this insight, but there are very deep levels where we realize even this being who is "me" is born of causes and conditions. It's really not personal. That is what the teaching is.

Steph: I just want to say I was pretty distracted, but I think it was because I didn't meditate this morning like I usually do. I've had a bit of a stressful day. The practice was really useful, but I had to keep trying to return my mind to it. I always appreciate it when you lead a practice, so thank you.

Nikki: Thank you, Steph. As you know well, that's perfectly fine! Distracted Buddha. Just say, "Oh yeah, distracted Buddha, I just need to come back to the center." That's perfectly fine. The causes and conditions of the mind are not always the same, and that is impersonal. It's busy because of what's happened through the day, or because you didn't sit. Instead of saying, "Oh, terrible me, I'm a bad person," you recognize, "This is what happens. It's impersonal. This busyness of the mind is born of causes and conditions." And then you work with it with wisdom.

Claire: I raised my hand for two reasons. One is that I loved your metaphor of the boat on the water; I thought it was absolutely spot on for me. The other was a question. I have for a couple of years now used the concept of acceptance to deal with complex situations. Is that similar to equanimity, do you think?

Nikki: Slightly different. The concept of acceptance is when we accept what is instead of resisting it. It's not acquiescing, and it's not giving up. With acceptance, for example, if my back is hurting right now, instead of hating it or being upset about it, I accept the truth of the moment. There's an opening of not resisting it. Equanimity includes acceptance, but it goes beyond it. It includes opening and not denying what's happening, but then there's this attitude of equipoise—neither attaching nor resisting.

Gene: I really appreciated the guided meditation and the way you defined equanimity as open-heartedness. I never understood it that way. I wonder if there's anything else you could say about why it is we suffer so much when we take things personally? I find myself sometimes saying, "Why me? Why did that happen to me?" I can kind of understand that taking it personally makes it worse, but I don't know if there are any other dots you could connect there.

Nikki: There are a lot of reasons why we suffer when we take things personally—it's a longer Dharma talk! But I want to come specifically to what you just referred to, which is "why me." If that arises—and it arises for many of us at different times, so not to have judgment around it—it can feel as if I've done something wrong. It's belittling. It makes me feel separate, like everybody else is okay and has it figured out, but I'm less than, or I'm worse.

That is the delusion of separateness. It's denying our similarity in humanity. Everybody has challenges in this life. Unsatisfactoriness (dukkha[11]) is a characteristic of being alive; we just don't see it. Our minds are often focused on "me, me, me" and "my life, my body." That's just how we operate evolutionarily. Oh, sweet dear human being, this is how we operate. Yet, when that "why me" happens, try to open that up. Shift from the contraction of "me" and what happened to me, to "just like others." Just like other human beings, I'm having a difficult day right now. Just to take away that separateness.

Closing Dedication

Okay, I spoke a lot, and it looks like we have less time today. Let's transition to small breakout groups. The invitation is, as we get together in small groups, since the topic is equanimity: What supports your equanimity? What supports the sense of being with the waves that arise? And maybe what challenges it? Maybe what supports it is contemplating the Dharma, meditating, being calm, eating a good diet, sleeping well, whatever it might be. We'll go in a round-robin fashion, and each person will offer a reflection from their own experience.

[Group Breakouts]

Welcome back everyone. Let's just dedicate the merit of our practice together. May all beings everywhere be safe, happy, healthy, and well. May all beings be free, including ourselves. Thank you all for your practice. May you be well. May you be calm. May you have equanimity. May your heart be spacious. May you have a wonderful weekend.



  1. Brahmavihāras: The four "divine abodes" or practices of the heart in Buddhism. ↩︎

  2. Mettā: A Pali word translating to loving-kindness or goodwill. ↩︎

  3. Karuṇā: A Pali word translating to compassion. ↩︎

  4. Muditā: A Pali word translating to sympathetic or vicarious joy. ↩︎

  5. Upekkhā: A Pali word translating to equanimity or mental equipoise. ↩︎

  6. Pāramīs: The "perfections" or noble qualities cultivated in Buddhist practice. ↩︎

  7. Original transcript said "nostalic", corrected to "placid" based on context. ↩︎

  8. Empty Boat: A classic Taoist/Zen metaphor (often attributed to Chuang-Tzu) used to illustrate impersonality and the absence of a fixed self. ↩︎

  9. Anattā: A Pali word translating to "not-self" or impersonality, describing the absence of a permanent, unchanging self. ↩︎

  10. Original transcript said "there's a lot of loyal", corrected to "there are a lot of levels" based on context. ↩︎

  11. Dukkha: A Pali word often translated as "suffering," "stress," or "unsatisfactoriness." ↩︎