By Philip Chanin, Ed.D, ABPP, CGP
Board Certified Clinical Psychologist
Assistant Clinical Professor, Department of Psychiatry
Vanderbilt University Medical Center

“The practice of metta (lovingkindness), uncovering the force of love that can uproot fear, anger, and guilt, begins with befriending ourselves.  The foundation of metta practice is to know how to be our own friend.  According to the Buddha, ‘You can search throughout the entire universe for someone who is more deserving of your love and affection than you are yourself, and that person is not to be found anywhere.  You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection.’  How few of us embrace ourselves in this way!

With metta practice, we uncover the possibility of truly respecting ourselves.  We discover, as Walt Whitman put it, ‘I am larger and better than I thought.  I did not think I held so much goodness.”  (Lovingkindess:  The Revolutionary Art of Happiness by Sharon Salzberg, p. 25)

“Comparing ourselves to others is a very powerful mental affliction.  In Buddhist psychology it is called ‘conceit.’  When we are enmeshed in conceit, we are pulled outside ourselves, trying to know who we are and what our experience is by comparing ourselves to others.  ‘Who am I in reference to that?  Am I good enough in comparison to that?  Whether we conclude that we are better than, worse than, or equal to another, when we measure ourselves against others, it causes us harm.  As we constantly try to decide, through comparison with others, who we are, what is important about us, whether or not we are happy, that churning of the mind in itself undermines our happiness.  Comparison or conceit is a gnawing, painful restlessness.  It can never bring us to peace, because there is no end to the possibilities for comparison.” (p. 122)

Lovingkindness is a book that I have recommended to countless patients, particularly to those who struggle with shame and low self-esteem.  It was written by Sharon Salzberg, who was one of my first Buddhist teachers, at Naropa, a Buddhist university is Boulder, Colorado.  She writes, 

“Spiritual practice, by uprooting our personal mythologies of isolation, uncovers the radiant, joyful heart within each of us and manifests this radiance to the world.” (p. 1)

Salzberg writes, “The Buddha described the spiritual path that leads to freedom as ‘the liberation of the heart which is love,’ and he taught a systematic, integrated path that moves the heart out of isolating contraction into true connection.  That path is still with us as a living tradition of meditation practices that cultivate love, compassion, sympathetic joy (joy in others’ happiness), and equanimity (mental balance).”  

“These four qualities are among the most beautiful and powerful states of consciousness we can experience.  Together they are called in Pali, the language spoken by the Buddha, the brahma-viharas.  Brahma means ‘heavenly.’  Vihara means ‘abode’ or ‘home.’  By practicing these meditations, we establish love (Pali, metta), compassion (karuna), sympathetic joy (mudita) and equanimity (upekka) as our home.” (pp. 1-2)

Often I introduce patients to the Buddhist ideas of “skillful” and “unskillful.”  This is a much more helpful and generous way to view our thoughts and behavior than saying what we have done is “good” or “bad.”  Salzberg writes, “The integrity we develop on a spiritual path comes from being able to distinguish for ourselves the habits and influences in the mind which are skillful and lead to love and awareness, from those which are unskillful and reinforce our false sense of separation.”

“The Buddha once said: Abandon what is unskillful.  One can abandon the unskillful.  If it were not possible, I would not ask you to do it.  If this abandoning of the unskillful would bring harm or suffering, I would not ask you to abandon it.  But as it brings benefit and happiness, therefore I say, abandon what is unskillful.” (p. 3)

Describing her own journey, Salzberg states, “My own intensive practice of the four brahma-viharas began in Burma in 1985.  Under the guidance of Sayadaw U Pandita, a Theravada meditation master, my days were completed devoted to nurturing and cultivating love, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity.  What extraordinary days!  That protected period of retreat so clarified and strengthened the brahma-viharas that when the retreat was over, I found that they did not erode but had truly become my home.  At times, of course, I lose touch with these qualities, but my homing instinct for happiness now brings me back to them.”

(p. 5)

For the remainder of her book, Salzberg describes the practices that lead to the development of the brahma-viharas.  She begins with a chapter on metta, or lovingkindness.  She writes, “Metta…overcomes the illusion of separateness, of not being part of a whole.  Thereby metta overcomes all of the states that accompany this fundamental error of separateness—fear, alienation, loneliness, and despair—all of the feelings of fragmentation.  In place of these, the genuine realization of connectedness brings unification, confidence, and safety.”

“In Buddhism there is one word for mind and heart: chitta…As we open to the experience of chitta, we come to an understanding of who we are, with an ability to care for ourselves.  Through the force of love, the presumed boundaries between ourselves and others crumble into ash as we touch them.  What unites us all as human beings is an urge for happiness, which at heart is a yearning for union, for overcoming our feelings of separateness.” (p. 21)

I often share with patients a quote from Erich Fromm, a German-American psychologist and psychoanalyst, “Separateness is the source of all anxiety.”

“Metta is the ability to embrace all parts of ourselves, as well as all parts of the world…In cultivating love, we remember one of the most powerful truths the Buddha taught—that the mind is naturally radiant and pure.  It is because of visiting defilements that we suffer.  The word defilement is a common translation of the Pali word kilesa, which more literally translated means ‘torment of the mind.’ “ 

“We know from our own experience that when certain states arise strongly within us, they have a tormenting quality—states like anger, fear, guilt, and greed.  When they knock at the door and we invite them in, we lose touch with the fundamentally pure nature of mind, and then we suffer.  By not identifying with these forces, we learn these defilements or torments are only visitors.”  (pp. 22-23)

“The other root meaning for metta is “friend.”  To understand the power or the force of metta is to understand true friendship.  The Buddha actually described at some length what he meant by being a good friend in the world.   He talked about a good friend as someone who is constant in our times of happiness and also in our times of adversity or unhappiness.  A friend will not forsake us when we are in trouble nor rejoice in our misfortune.  The Buddha described a true friend as being a helper, someone who will protect us when we are unable to take care of ourselves, who will be a refuge to us when we are afraid.” (p. 24)

I often teach my patients about the lovingkindness phrases that one can repeat over and over as part of meditation and for healing shame and low self-esteem.  One series of phrases that I teach goes “Lovingkindness and compassion towards myself.  May I be free from suffering, free from ill will, may I be happy.”  Another series of phases I like goes “May I be free from danger.  May I have mental happiness.  May I have physical happiness.  May I have ease of well-being.  May I love myself completely, just as I am.” (p. 30)

Salzberg suggests: “You can begin with five minutes of reflection on the good within you or your wish to be happy.  Then choose three or four phrases that express what you most deeply wish for yourself, and repeat them over and over again.  You can coordinate the phrases with the breath, if you wish, or simply have your mind rest in the phrases without a physical anchor.  Feel free to experiment, and be creative.” (p. 31).  Salzberg adds, “Don’t struggle to manufacture a feeling of love.  Simply repeat the phrases, thereby planting the potent seeds of 

intention, and trust that nature will take its own course.”  (p. 47)

I often talk with patients about the importance of turning guilt into regret or remorse.  Salzberg writes, “Buddhist psychology makes an interesting distinction between guilt and remorse.  The feeling of guilt, or hatred directed toward oneself, lacerates…our thoughts focus on our worthlessness…Remorse, by contrast, is a state of recognition.  We realize that we have at some point done something or said something unskillful that caused pain, and we feel the pain of that recognition.  But, crucially, remorse frees us to let go of the past.  It leaves us with some energy to move on, resolved not to repeat our mistakes.”  (p. 64)

In her chapter on developing compassion toward others, Salzberg writes, “The Buddha gave a teaching known as ‘the precious human birth,’ in which he described how rare and precious it is to take birth as a human in the vast cosmological scheme, and how as a human it is so rare and precious to experience just the right mixture of pleasure and pain to undertake deep spiritual inquiry.”  (p. 111)

Salzberg states, “This teaching fosters compassion in two ways.  First, we can commit ourselves to creating for all others the kind of environment in which there is space and time enough for a spiritual opening, so that people can live according to the knowledge that they will die and find the truth which goes beyond this body and mind, which does not die.  Second, if we see people, no matter what their worldly circumstance, squander the precious opportunity for awakening in this brief human life, we can be moved to compassion for them.”  (pp. 111-112)

Salzberg continues, “Even very simple actions can make a big difference.  We may not be able to take away the mass of somebody’s suffering, but we can be present for them.  Even if through our small act of being present, somebody does not feel as alone in their suffering as they once did, this will be a very great offering.”  (p. 112). This certainly describes what happens in a good psychotherapy experience, as the therapist offers the patient a compassionate witnessing.  

Salzberg tells the story of her experience of the Dalai Lama visiting her retreat center in Barre, Massachusetts.  Salzberg had been in a bad car accident and was on crutches.  She writes, “I ended up in the back of the huge crowd waiting to greet the Dalai Lama when he arrived.  The car with His Holiness in it pulled up at last and was greeted by the cameras, the people, and the armed policemen.  The Dalai Lama got out, looked around, and saw me standing way in the back of the throng, leaning on the crutches.”

She continues, “He cut straight through the crowd and came up to me, as though he here homing in on the deepest suffering in the situation.  He took my hand, looked me in the eye, and asked, ‘What happened?’  It was a beautiful moment.  I had been feeling so left out.  Now, I suddenly felt so cared for.  The Dalai Lama did not have to make the pain go away; in fact, he could not.  But his simple acknowledgment, his openness, helped me feel included.  Every act can be an expression of our deepest values.  Whatever life presents us, our response can be an expression of our compassion.”  (pp. 112-113)

Salzberg writes, “The Buddha’s teaching is never removed from a sense of humanity.  He described the motivating principle of his life as dedication to the welfare and the happiness of all beings, out of sympathy for all that lives.  He also encouraged the same dedication in others:  to see our very lives as vehicles to bring happiness, to bring peace, for the benefit of all beings…

Through compassion our lives become an expression of all that we understand and care about and value.” (p. 115)

She adds, “To develop a compassionate heart is not just an idealistic overlay.  It arises from seeing the truth of suffering and opening to it.  Out of this arises a sense of purpose, a sense of meaning so strong in our lives that no matter what the circumstances, no matter what the situation, our goal or our greatest desire at any moment is to express genuine love.  Our inherent capacity for love can never be destroyed.”  (p. 115)

The next chapter in the book is about developing “mudita” or “sympathetic joy,” meaning joy is others’ happiness.  Salzberg writes, “The root word ‘mudita’ means ‘to be pleased, to have a sense of gladness…so much of our unhappy condition as living beings comes from the constricting effect of our negativity toward each other.  We limit ourselves, and we limit each other.  We judge each other, compare ourselves to each other, demean and envy each other, and we ourselves suffer the strangling effects of these limitations.”  (p. 119)

Salzberg continues, “Because there are so many constricting mind states that are impediments to mudita, sympathetic joy is considered the most difficult of all the brahma-viharas to develop…those tormenting states of mind, such as judging, comparing, discriminating, demeaning, and envying collude to get us stuck, to keep us stuck, and to make us miserable…If we look carefully at each of those mind states where we get stuck, we can begin to understand how cultivating sympathetic joy can help to free us.”  (pp. 119-120)

Salzberg adds, “Remembering the truth of the vast potential for suffering in the world, we can feel truly happy that someone, anyone, also experiences some happiness.  As Henry Wadsworth Longfellow said, ‘If we could read the secret history of our enemies we should find in each man’s life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility.”  (p. 125)

The next chapter in the book is about cultivating “equanimity,” or mental balance.  She writes, 

“The Buddha wisely said, ‘There is always blame in this world.  If you say too much, some people will blame you.  If you say a little bit, some people will blame you.  If you say nothing at all, some people will blame you.’  This is the very nature of life.  No one in this world experiences only pleasure and no pain, and no one experiences only gain and no loss.  When we open to this truth, we discover that there is no need to hold on or to push away.”

“Rather than trying to control what can never be controlled, we can find a sense of security in being able to meet what is actually happening.  This is allowing for the mystery of things: not judging but rather cultivating a balance of mind that can receive what is happening, whatever it is.  This acceptance is the source of our safety and confidence.”  (pp. 141-142)

Regarding equanimity, Salzbert writes, “The Buddha taught that we can feel pleasure fully, yet without craving or clinging, without defining it as our ultimate happiness.  We can feel pain fully without condemning or hating it.  And we can experience neutral events by being fully present, so that they are not just fill-in times until something more exciting comes along.  This nonreactivity is the state of equanimity, and it leads us into freedom in each moment.” (p. 144)

Salzberg states, “Equanimity’s strength derives from a combination of understanding and trust…A Chinese poem expresses the essence of this trust and understanding:

Ten thousand flowers in spring,

The moon in autumn,

A cool breeze in summer,

Snow in winter—

If you mind is not clouded

By unnecessary things,

This is the best season of your life.

Salzberg adds, “To see things as they are, to see the changing nature, to see the impermanence, to see that constant flow of pleasant and painful events outside our control—that is freedom…

Equanimity balances those heartfelt wishes with the recognition that things are the way they are.  However much we may wish for something, most results are beyond our control…

Equanimity has all the warmth and love of the previous three states (lovingkindness, compassion, and sympathetic joy), but it also has balance, wisdom, and the understanding that things are as they are, and that we cannot ultimately control someone else’s happiness and unhappiness.”  (pp. 145-146)

Salzberg continues, “Thanks to the gift of equanimity, we can develop the courage to stay open to suffering.  We can face pain again and again without being overcome by sorrow and misery, without becoming so embittered by them that we have to strike out at them or push them away…It is a state of peace to be able to accept things as they are.  This is to be at home in our own lives…Our hearts and minds can become that big, and we can actually let go.  This is the gift of equanimity.”  (pp. 150-151)

I often say to patients that a good goal of psychotherapy is not actually happiness, but peace of mind.  Most patients begin therapy with tormenting states of mind.  I often say, “The Buddhists have studied the mind for over 2,000 years, and they know a great deal about developing peace of mind.  I suggest to patients that another goal of therapy is be able to let go of the “Inner Critic” voice in their heads, and replace it with lovingkindness and compassion towards self and others.  As Salzberg has written, “If we look very carefully, we realize that after our basic needs have been met, what we really want are certain mind states.”  (p. 54)