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: Loving-Kindness (2 of 5)

So this is the second talk on this week's theme of loving-kindness as one of the divine abodes, or immeasurables^[1]. The Pali word for loving-kindness is mettā^[2]. It's a cognate to the word mitta, which means friend, and so part of the connotation of mettā is friendliness. Friendliness is a basic attitude of respecting people, being kind to people, appreciating people, and being open to a friendly, kind exchange. It's possible to be friendly with people who you don't really like or who are challenging in a variety of ways.

The term "loving-kindness" is a beautiful concept and word in English, but for some people, it might not really represent mettā as fully as other English translations. For some, the idea of love has a very high bar. To have loving-kindness that is filled with love can be hard to do, especially for people who are challenging for us. There are people we find difficult to love, and to hold ourselves up to a standard where we're supposed to love everyone might not be realistic. But it is possible to have goodwill for everyone, to be friendly to everyone—even friendly towards strangers, extending a sense of hospitality to anybody that we encounter.

Because of this, a word that translates mettā more appropriately into English might be "goodwill." Goodwill carries an aspiration, an intention, and a willingness to extend our goodness to others so they feel safe with us. They feel happy with us, and they feel that we have their best interests in mind. We are there to support their welfare, not to support their ill. We're not there trying to undermine them, be critical of them, or diminish who they are in some way.

I also like the word "kindness" as a translation of mettā because kindness, for me, implies more than just a feeling or an attitude. Kindness has connotations of an actual extension towards other people. It is the expression of kind words, a kind gaze, or a kind action. Goodwill can simply be radiating a sense of well-wishing for someone, but kindness implies a little bit more action. So I also simply like the word "kindness" as a translation for mettā.

In the ancient Buddhist texts, mettā is described this way: the primary characteristic of mettā is to promote the welfare of all beings, to promote beneficial conditions for others. This idea of wanting things to be beneficial doesn't necessarily mean that you have to be the one who provides them with those conditions, but there is a genuine wish that the conditions of their life be such that they have happiness and well-being. May they experience welfare.

There is a big difference between simply wishing for that and doing something for it, but we shouldn't underestimate the tremendous value of simply having goodwill for others. I know I've been the recipient of people's simple goodwill, and it makes a difference. Something inside of me kind of opens up, is buoyed, or inspired just by knowing that people are thinking well of me.

The texts say that the core of loving-kindness is focusing on what is beneficial. This requires some sense of what is beneficial. For example, simply wishing someone wins a very big lottery ticket and gets amazingly wealthy—is that really for their benefit? There have been studies showing that people who win big chunks of money in a lottery are often less happy a year after winning it than they were before. So what do we really wish for people? What is genuinely beneficial, really supportive, and nice for them? It might not be wealth. It might not be status. It might not be material goods. Sometimes some of the simplest things are the most fulfilling and happy.

I think that learning how to breathe with an easy and easeful breath is a phenomenal wealth. The Buddha said that for a monastic—who is not supposed to acquire or have money or wealth—wealth is mettā. Wealth is loving-kindness and goodwill. This is a wonderful juxtaposition, that having goodwill for others is a wealth for oneself. There is so much goodness in that aspiration. The goodness of the aspiration benefits, feeds, or nourishes something in us. Focusing on what is beneficial for both others and ourselves works in a mutual way.

This is where I really love the English word "aspiration." As I've said earlier, aspiration is a beneficial desire that Buddhism champions. Aspiration is a good thing. It is an opening desire, a freeing desire, a desire that helps us feel more connected. It contains beneficial seeds and goodness in it. When we breathe with aspiration and inspiration, we get filled with something good. It nourishes something within ourselves. In having the aspiration for others' welfare, we're benefiting ourselves as we're benefiting others.

The description in the texts goes on and says the manifestation of mettā is the removal of malice, the removal of ill will. We know that loving-kindness is present in a stable, strong way when there is absolutely no ill will. There is only a goodwill that is there.

Its proximate cause^[3] is the loveliness of beings. What a great expression! The proximate condition that brings about this mettā is seeing the loveliness in beings.

How do we see the beauty in other people? I think one of the things it requires is slowing down and taking the time to pay attention. Our minds can go fast. We pay attention to all kinds of things. We have a lot of desires, wants, preoccupations, concerns, and fears. When we encounter someone, sometimes all these different things are swirling around, making the mind fast or caught up in things. But if we stop and take time—and it doesn't have to be long enough that anybody notices your pausing—we can learn to appreciate the loveliness of beings, the beauty of other people.

Everyone has loveliness. Everyone has it, and we can begin to tune into that. If we go back to our meditation practice, as we sit and open up, we discover our own loveliness. We discover our beauty within: the capacity for integrity and wholeness, the lack of conflict, the lack of ill will, the lack of hostility, and the lack of greed. This beautiful place inside where a whole other way of being lives is right there with us. When we recognize the beauty in ourselves, it's more and more easy to see it in other people. It's there.

If we don't see it in other people, one principle you might want to consider—as a principle, not an absolute truth—is that maybe, just maybe, you don't see it in others because you haven't seen it in yourself. If you really see it in yourself, you'll see it even in people who are quite difficult. You'll see there's a seed. Maybe it's hidden even from them, but as a potential, it's something lovely to appreciate in others.

The last part of this classical description is that mettā fails when it leads to "sticky affection." Affection for others that includes a neediness, wantingness, and a graspingness is not mettā. Mettā is open-handed. The hands don't grasp or hold on to anything. With mettā, things are just freely offered: "Here, you can have it. You can have my goodwill." It is offered freely, and I'm not going to hold on and demand anything in return.

Mettā is an aspiration. For all the emphasis we put in mindfulness on being in the present moment, that is not really the full story of a liberated life. There is also a place for having a sense of potential and possibility for others and wishing that for them. Certainly, wishing they could have it now, but having a sense of the possibility that they can grow into that—"May it be so." My wholehearted wish is really that other people feel well and happy.

You don't have to tell people that you have this wish for them. You don't even have to tell people you have goodwill for them. Some relationships are such that it's too complicated to tell them, because there are people with sticky affection, or people who are mean, or all kinds of difficult ways of being. The wonderful art of mettā is knowing when to do it privately.

I've heard stories of people who have a very difficult person in their lives, and they decided to just have goodwill for them privately. Sometimes they hold them in their loving-kindness when they're not together. When they are together, they simply reflect on their well-wishing for that person. Nothing special is said, nothing special is done that expresses the goodwill outwardly, but just that internal attitude seems to change the circumstance, and the person seems to become kinder, less threatening, or less difficult to be with.

Reflections for the Day

Finally, this brahmavihāra—this practice of loving-kindness—is both an expression that can live in the present moment and an aspiration. It is living with goodness, wishing well-being, and friendliness for others. An aspiration is a choice. It's possible to marshal together a choice, a decision, a wish: "Yes, I want to be kind here. I want to be friendly here. I want to wish this person well. I see what's beneficial. I see their loveliness."

Living a life where we choose to have that aspiration opens us. It means you don't have to feel loving-kindness or friendly initially. Maybe those feelings will follow in the wake of the aspiration. But the wish is something deeper than a feeling, and we do have some choice over that. Don't wait to have the feeling to have the wish. If the wish is an aspiration, it will carry goodness and welfare with it, and you'll benefit from having that wish if it's sincere.

May all of us have the sincere wish to benefit ourselves and others, and may we be carried, expanded, and come to fullness in our kindness and goodwill.

For the next 24 hours until we meet again, why don't you do some experiments? Take some risks, and see if you can make a little bit of this mettā, loving-kindness, and goodwill a theme you carry with you through the day. Reflect on it. Think of it. Extend it to others, and see what you learn about loving-kindness in the next 24 hours that you didn't know before.

Thank you very much. I look forward to our time tomorrow.