And this is a crucial point. Sticking with a practice even though it might feel artificial or fake still allows that practice to enter our hearts, our minds, and our bodies. This begins to change our conditioned response from a painful one (in this case, envy) to a wholesome one (in this case, joy). I continued to practice mudita even when it felt fake because when I was first taught lovingkindness practice, another one of the sublime states, I was told to stick with sending loving-kindness to ourselves and to others—even though it might not be a genuine expression of how I felt at that moment. The practice will do its work anyway, I was taught. So I persisted and cultivated fake “joy in the joy of others,” hoping the feeling would become genuine. And it did.
Now when I hear about people going to a wedding or traveling or visiting family, my mind naturally moves to a feeling of joy for them. Of course, I still have an occasional “relapse” and envy again painfully arises. But because I worked on cultivating joy in the joy of others even when it didn’t feel genuine, it doesn’t take long for the pain of envy to subside—and even the envy itself. This has lifted a tremendous burden because few mental states rival envy as a source of self-induced suffering.
When I became house-bound and my activities were suddenly severely restricted, my initial intent in focusing on mudita was to help alleviate the suffering caused by envy. But to my surprise, after months of working with the practice, its effect turned around and the joy I felt was no longer just the joy that emanated from connecting with the joy of others, but an inward joy as if I were engaging in these cherished activities myself. So now, when Tony leaves town to visit our children and grandchildren, I not only feel joy in
his
joy of being with them, I feel as if he’s there for both of us—and so I, too, am flooded with joy.
This didn’t come easily though. At first when he’d call from his cell phone while he and our granddaughter Malia were off on an adventure in Los Angeles—at the Science Museum, the Santa Monica Pier, the La Brea tar pits—envy would arise in my mind and take hold of me like the tar in those pits. I
hated
not being there. I hated not being able to fulfill the dream I’d had of being an active grandparent, showing Malia all around the city of my birth. But, as has happened so many times during this illness, the Buddha’s teachings came to my rescue. Again, at first, when Tony would call from one of these places and I’d hear Malia chatting or giggling in the background, cultivating mudita was a sheer act of will. I had to consciously replace envy with mudita
.
But now, I actually look forward to those calls. I hear the joy emanating from both of them because of their close relationship and it brings me deep and completely genuine joy.
Cultivating joy in the joy of others is a continuous challenge. As soon as I find a new interest, possibilities open up that I can’t take advantage of. For example, I’ve become an opera buff lying in bed, but the Met is not in my future. I can’t even go to the Sacramento Opera even though it’s only thirty minutes away. Without mudita practice, I’d be overcome with envy. Instead, I’m happy for those who are able see opera live on the stage. And the joy I feel for them enhances my own joy when I listen to CDs or watch an opera on DVD.
The Buddha gave us a great gift when he described the cultivation of mudita
.
To paraphrase Shunryu Suzuki’s words at the beginning of this chapter: mudita has allowed me to find perfect existence—even though my physical heath is far from perfect.
7
Soothing the Body, Mind, and Heart
May the gentle breeze and the calm sea protect your loved ones and friends on their journey.
—“WHISPER OF ANGELS” FROM MOZART’S
COSI FAN TUTTE
METTA, LOVING-KINDNESS, is the act of well-wishing toward yourself and others. You settle on a set of phrases and then recite them silently, over and over. The phrases can be directed to yourself, to others as a whole, or to particular people.
These are the phrases I settled on in the early 1990s for my metta practice:
May I be peaceful.
May I have ease of well-being
May I reach the end of suffering . . .
And be free.
There’s no magic to these four phrases. The cadence and meaning just work for me. “Ease of well-being” is a phrase I first heard from “metta master” Sharon Salzberg, whose book
Lovingkindness
presents one of the best descriptions of metta and the other brahma viharas. I like the phrase because it seems to direct metta at our moment-to-moment experience of everyday life. It’s as if I’m saying: “May I have ease of well-being as I shower . . . as I eat this meal . . . as I lie down to nap . . . and even as I am experiencing sickness, fatigue, and pain.”
After trying out different phrases for yourself, it’s best to settle on one set. The specific content of your chosen phrases doesn’t matter so long as their theme is well-wishing. It’s the act of listening to and contemplating the meaning of the phrases as you repeat them that, over time, softens and soothes the body, mind, and heart. In fact, now I need only silently say, “May I be peaceful” and it sets off a relaxation response in my mind and body. They know what’s coming next! Sometimes I remove myself as the subject altogether and just lie in bed, repeating, “Peaceful, ease of well-being, end of suffering, free.”
The phrase “end of suffering” should be familiar from the first noble truth. Recall that the Buddha said he taught two things: dukkha and the end of dukkha
.
When my health didn’t return, I lay in bed, directing metta to myself. When I reached the phrase “May I reach the end of suffering,” one day I became aware that I was wishing I’d stop feeling sick—that the physical discomfort would
go away
, that I would
stop being sick
. Of course, wishing for something over which I had no control only brought more suffering. It was then that I realized that most of my suffering came, not from the physical discomfort of the illness, but from my mind reacting to it with thoughts like: “I don’t want to be sick”; “I hate this physical discomfort”; “What if I can never return to work?” A shift occurred, and the end of suffering I wished for became the end of suffering
in the mind.
In fact, I could add “in the mind” to the end of each of my four chosen phrases, whether I’m directing them at myself or at others. This focus on the mind is consistent with what the Buddha meant when he talked about the “end of dukkha
.
”
Although I’ve settled on the above set of phrases for my basic metta practice, I do use other words at times. For example, while on the July 2001 retreat I wrote about earlier, I dragged myself to a talk given by Kamala Masters because, sick though I was, I loved being in her calm and serene presence. That evening, she closed her talk by directing this metta phrase to us: “Whether sick or well, may your body be a vehicle for liberation.” That got my attention! I didn’t replace one of my four phrases with this one, but while lying in bed, I still sometimes silently repeat: “Sick though it is, may this body be a vehicle for liberation.”
Using metta phrases can also become a powerful forgiveness practice. I might repeat to myself, “Be peaceful, sweet body, working so hard to support me.” When I repeat a phrase with that sentiment, I’m also forgiving myself for getting sick. It’s not my body’s fault that I’m sick. It’s doing the best job it can to support my life.
Traditionally, metta phrases are directed at different groups of people. You start with yourself and then move progressively from those for whom it is easiest for you to evoke feelings of lovingkindness to those who are the hardest.
First, you direct the phrases at yourself. This opens your heart to the practice. It’s difficult to cultivate loving-kindness for others if you’re not feeling friendly toward yourself. After a time, you direct the phrases to someone for whom you feel great gratitude, who has been very generous to you. Then, you move to a person for whom you have some conflicting feelings (such as a good friend or loved one). Then, to a person you don’t have an opinion about one way or another (such as your mail carrier perhaps or a checker at the supermarket). Finally, to a person whose name alone can give rise to anger, judgment, and other mind states that are a source of suffering for you.
The goal of metta practice is to cultivate loving-kindness in this fashion until it’s a mental state that arises effortlessly. At that point, you’ll find it increasingly natural to greet all living beings with kindness and friendliness. One of the most potent aspects of this practice is directing loving-kindness toward a person causing difficulty for you. He or she could be a family member, a doctor who doesn’t take your illness seriously, or even a public figure with whom you disagree. Wishing for a person who is a thorn in your side to be peaceful and to be free from suffering may be a challenge, but it turns metta practice into a liberation practice.
During the 2008 presidential campaign, Sarah Palin became a good example of a person who bothered me who could also become an object of my loving-kindness. Some readers may react with aversion just by seeing her name on this page. (If that’s not the case for you, pick another person who “lights you up” as Tony likes to say.) I’ve been politically active all my life and so I was involved (from my bed) in the 2008 presidential election. I didn’t like Palin’s political positions. I didn’t like her lack of humility when asked about her reaction to being picked as a vice-presidential nominee. I didn’t like her personal attacks on the opposition. I soon realized that the anger I was directing at her had become such a source of stress that I was feeling it physically in my already sick body. So I did what I’ve done many times in the past with people to whom I’m feeling strong aversion: I went straight to my metta phrases.
First, recognizing that my reaction to her—“I don’t like this about her”; “I don’t like that about her”—was a great source of suffering
for me
, I began by directing metta at myself: “May I be free from the suffering that my aversion to Sarah Palin gives rise to.” Then I turned to her.
“Sarah Palin: May you be peaceful. May you have ease of well-being. May you reach the end of suffering . . . and be free.” As is often the case when I direct metta to difficult people in my life, just as with sympathetic joy, at first the phrases felt artificial and fake. Then I realized I’d shifted to “Sarah Palin: May you be peaceful. May you have ease of well-being. May you reach the end of suffering . . . and be free
by seeing the error of your ways and becoming a completely different human being
.” This is, of course, not exactly what the Buddha had in mind as metta practice. But as I’ve trained myself to do, I persisted. Soon, not only did the phrases become genuine, but I began to see in her qualities that we share. She loves her children. She wishes the best for them and hopes they’ll be happy. She clings to her political views as tenaciously as I cling to mine—a shared source of suffering for us! Soon it felt like a poison had been extracted from my body, mind, and heart. Metta had been the antidote. Sarah Palin didn’t get my vote, but she no longer got my rage—and I was freed from the painful negative mental state that was exacerbating my own physical symptoms.
To a sick body, a troubled mind, or a hardened heart, nothing is more soothing than metta practice. May you come to greet all of life’s experiences with friendliness and loving-kindness.
8
Using Compassion to Alleviate Your Suffering
When the heart at last acknowledges how much pain there is in the mind, it turns like a mother toward a frightened child.
—STEPHEN LEVINE,
A YEAR TO LIVE
KARUNA, COMPASSION, is reaching out to help alleviate the suffering of ourselves and others. To do this, we must first open our hearts to the presence of suffering in all lives. Then we can look for ways to take compassionate action to help ease that suffering. In this chapter, I’m going to focus on cultivating compassion for ourselves—which for many of us is harder than cultivating compassion for others.
The four sublime states are not mutually exclusive. I may call upon more than one of them to help me through the same difficulty. Recall the story about how I cultivate mudita
—
joy in their joy—when Tony and my granddaughter Malia call while they’re out and about in Los Angeles. But sometimes that call comes on a day when I’m feeling particularly sick or blue in mood. Thanks to mudita practice, at least I no longer feel envy when they tell me what they’re doing, but it may be too difficult for me to feel “joy in their joy.”
When that happens, I turn to karuna and cultivate compassion for the suffering I’m experiencing at not being able to join them. I don’t have set “compassion phrases” as I do with metta practice, so I comfort myself with whatever words come to mind, something like, “It’s so hard to be at home when I want so badly to be having fun with them.” Opening my heart to the suffering that arises from my desire to be with them, and then finding specific words with which I can direct compassion toward myself, always eases that suffering.