Over a decade ago, when I was a relatively new meditation teacher, a friend told me about a Tibetan Rinpoche who instructed his students to practice “extreme” letting go. He told them to stop whatever they were doing, let their limbs and muscles go limp, and literally fall down wherever they happened to be so they could “taste” the experience of releasing their clinging mind-states. He suggested doing this practice several times a day, and so they would crash to the floor or the earth on sidewalks, in office hallways, and in their kitchens. At the time, I thought it was a ridiculous and maybe even dangerous idea, and I wondered who would be foolish enough to follow such directions. But lately, I’ve grown to understand the usefulness of this teaching, as well as my aversion to it, because I’ve had to recognize and accept the truth about myself: I’m a control freak. And learning to let go—to relax and fall down, literally or metaphorically, into the reality of the present moment—is the only cure for it. 

In the past, I didn’t think of myself as a control freak, because I generally don’t try to control what other people do or say, I’m fairly adaptable to new situations, and I can tolerate difficulty as well as anyone else. But even though I don’t fall into the archetype of a demanding or rigid perfectionist, I’ve struggled for a long time to accept my lack of control over the future. For example, I often plan for the worst outcomes, strategize solutions to problems that aren’t happening, and fantasize about preventing unwanted or dangerous events from occurring. And because all of this worrying and planning prevents me from settling into the present moment, it’s difficult for me to fully rest or feel at ease.

This became all too clear at a meditation retreat a few years ago, during the pandemic. Because of social distancing and mandatory mask-wearing, we retreatants spent most of our time in our rooms. I’d brought along a notebook of inspiring Buddhist quotes and was contemplating Ajahn Chah’s advice: “If you let go a little, you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot, you will have a lot of peace. And if you let go completely, you will have complete peace.” As I repeated it silently to myself, I remembered the Rinpoche’s “extreme” letting go instructions and could feel my body relax. I realized that both teachers were right—I felt open, present, and less trepidatious about life. But I didn’t like it—the stillness and quiet in my mind were unfamiliar and unsettling, and I felt unprotected without all the plans and schemes that I thought were keeping me safe. My stomach clenched, my jaw tightened, and my heart closed. Even there, in that quiet, safe, and beautiful environment, I felt too helpless and weak to stop clinging. 

A minute later, I thought to myself, “Kim, what’s wrong with feeling helpless and weak?” In response, I felt a wave of sadness and fear, followed by the profound insight that my life was not special. I was subject to aging, sickness, and death just like everyone else, and I deeply understood that being a control freak enabled me to believe that I was immune to this truth. But, of course, every human is fragile and soft, subject to changes and losses that aren’t in our control. We can’t command the weather, other people, or a pandemic. And though there’s nothing wrong with using our actions to help prevent harm and contribute to beneficial and healthy conditions for ourselves and others, the outcomes are not up to us.

I finally saw that I had a choice—I could keep holding on to my painful and traumatic fantasies and continue suffering, or I could let them go and learn to tolerate and embrace my vulnerable and impermanent life. I put my hand on my heart, felt my body breathing, and chose to let my heart open to myself. As these painful feelings arose again, I remembered a practice from Thich Nhat Hanh and said to myself, “I see you, sadness and fear and I’m not going to leave you.” As I repeated these words of kindness, I felt my face, hands, and chest relax and a sense of contentment and ease arise, because I’d finally stopped trying to protect myself from this naked and tender experience of being. Paradoxically, welcoming my sense of vulnerability didn’t mean I was weak—rather, it signified courage, and the profound wisdom of meeting the future when it arrived, and not before. It inspired in me a deep confidence that, whatever happened, I could trust myself to meet it skillfully with compassion. 

Meditation is called a practice because it takes time and training to rewire and change old conditioned patterns of behavior. That experience from the retreat doesn’t mean I will never worry or try to control things anymore. But when I do sense a tightening and unease about the future, I know that I can return to my breath, connect to my feelings, and trust in the unfolding of life. It’s possible to be more open, present, and less trepidatious about life, and it’s okay to relax, take a breath, and slowly allow my illusion of control to fade. And, though I don’t think it’s necessary to fall to the pavement in a parking lot to experience the sensation of letting go, it’s a wonderful metaphor and skillful teaching that shows us that it is truly possible to drop everything—all our desires, fears, and delusions—and surrender to the truth of the present moment. 

With mindfulness and compassion, all of us can learn to meet our precious lives without aversion or ignorance and instead attend to our sadness and anxiety with love, kindness, and wisdom. If you suspect you’re a control freak like me—and frankly, I think you are because we all are—I hope you’ll practice this lovingkindness meditation that will remind you to relax, let go, and fall into the present moment again, and again, and again. 

Lovingkindness for Control Freaks 

• Find a quiet place, get still, and take a few deep inhales and exhales. Then put your hand on your heart. 

• Establish a connection with yourself. You can visualize yourself—as you look in the mirror or maybe in a moment of your childhood—or just have a sense of your loving presence. Then say these sentences silently to yourself: “May I be easy with the way life unfolds. May I be open-hearted and free.” Repeat each sentence as though you’re giving it as a gift to yourself.

• After a few minutes, include someone else who is struggling. You might imagine this person is sitting with you, or you can just have a sense of them and you together. Then say this silently to you both: “May we be easy with the way life unfolds. May we be open-hearted and free.”

• Finally, you can share your good heart and wisdom by imagining all the people all over the world struggling right now with a crisis, disaster, or unexpected calamity, and say to all: “May we be easy with the way life unfolds. May everyone be open-hearted and free.”

• After a few minutes, you can stop repeating the phrases. Just let yourself stay still, with your eyes closed, and rest here for a few minutes before you get up. Be sure to say “thank you” to yourself for your wisdom and skillful efforts.

The post Lovingkindness for Control Freaks appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Thirteen years ago, inspired by his own practice, David Kearney, a gastroenterologist at the Veterans Affairs Medical Center in Seattle, Washington began offering classes in mindfulness and meditation to veterans with posttraumatic stress disorder (PTSD). The vets found the sessions using Sharon Salzberg’s lovingkindness meditation particularly helpful. So helpful, in fact, that Kearney organized a clinical study to test just how well lovingkindness meditation could relieve symptoms of PTSD. In April, he published the results online in the Journal of the American Medical Association. His conclusion: a 12-week course of lovingkindness meditation was just as effective as Cognitive Processing Therapy (CPT), the gold standard treatment for PTSD.  For Kearney, who recently retired after 25 years at the VA, the study was confirmation that meditation and mindfulness can be valuable resources for mental health professionals and patients alike. 

I reached Kearney at home in Seattle. We talked about how his study of lovingkindness meditation for PTSD came about and what it may mean for the way mental illness is treated in the future. 

How was your study of lovingkindness meditation conducted? We divided about 190 VA patients with PTSD into two groups: a lovingkindness group and a CPT group. The groups met once a week for 12 weeks. After that, we used a standard test measuring the severity of PTSD symptoms to evaluate the participants. When we compared the results from the lovingkindness group to the CPT group, there was no difference in the scores. 

What would the participants do in the lovingkindness sessions? The lovingkindness groups were led by experienced meditation teachers. We followed Sharon Salzberg’s practice of silently repeating phrases of good will for ourselves and others. Classically, four phrases are used, beginning with yourself: “May I be safe. May I be happy. May I be healthy. May my life unfold with ease.” As you practice, you begin to extend the phrases to others, from those who have helped you to the difficult people in your life. Participants would practice in class for 30—35 minutes, and follow with a discussion. They were also asked to practice at home. 

How have combat vets related to meditation? Veterans are very open to learning meditation practices—it’s actually popular. They don’t see it as spiritual practice, but more in terms of I’m just looking for something that helps me live with suffering. 

How did it go when the vets started doing lovingkindness practice? It was challenging for them at first. In classic lovingkindness practice, self is placed first, because that should be the easiest. But for people with PTSD, allowing yourself to receive kindness can be very difficult. They feel they’re not deserving of kindness or it’s selfish. They also found it difficult to extend lovingkindness to others, because they would commonly say they just didn’t think that other people had good will toward them. They even struggled when we asked them to think of a neutral person, someone you might see at the bus stop, or a cashier at the grocery store. People with PTSD don’t regard people as being neutral. They’re either a threat or not a threat. 

How did you handle those kinds of obstacles? We’d remind them that it was fine if they didn’t have feelings of kindness or compassion while practicing—they weren’t doing the practice wrong. We simply wanted them to notice whatever came to mind, including feelings of shame or anger, with an attitude of friendliness, kindness, and curiosity. 

How common is PTSD among vets? Very common. It’s estimated that as many as 25 percent of veterans who were deployed to Iraq or Afghanistan suffer from PTSD. When I started mindfulness sessions at the VA, the majority of the veterans in our groups had PTSD, and many of them said that the practice was helpful. That was surprising. When I trained to be a mindfulness facilitator, we were told not to include people with PTSD in our groups.

You weren’t supposed to teach mindfulness to people with PTSD. Why not? I was trained in the Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction techniques developed by Jon Kabat-Zinn. I spoke to him about this. I think for him it was simply a matter of being cautious, given how little was known at the time about applying mindfulness practice to mental illness. But we certainly weren’t going to turn vets away because they had PTSD. 

Are you a meditator? Yes, for many years. 

Do you have a Buddhist practice? I’ve learned from a lot of Buddhist teachers. The Spirit Rock tradition of Jack Kornfield, Sylvia Boorstein, and Sharon Salzberg has been particularly important to me personally. 

Is that how you learned about lovingkindness meditation? I read Sharon Salzberg’s book Lovingkindness and went on a seven-day lovingkindness meditation retreat at Spirit Rock. It had a real impact. 

How so?  In the days following the retreat, I was aware of being more open and interested in others, of appreciating the humanity and basic goodness of people, even those I didn’t necessarily like. There’s a line in the Metta Sutta that invokes the aspiration of “omitting none” from our openheartedness, and I felt like the retreat helped me to take a step in that direction. To quote Sylvia Boorstein, one of the teachers on the retreat:  “We’re not asking you to like other people, we’re just asking you to love them.”  I think the retreat helped me better understand the possibilities involved in those words.  

What made you think that lovingkindness meditation could be particularly helpful for PTSD? PTSD is characterized by distressing emotions, images, and memories, often accompanied by what psychologists call hindsight bias, the belief that you could have done something differently to avoid the traumatic event. I thought lovingkindness practice might be able to help people with PTSD relearn self-compassion in the face of negative emotions like guilt and self-blame. 

In your study, you compared lovingkindness meditation to Cognitive Processing Therapy (CPT), which you describe as a “trauma-focused” treatment. What do you mean by that? Trauma-focused treatments like CPT work directly with memories or beliefs that arise from trauma. CPT is an intervention that uses techniques called cognitive restructuring and emotional reprocessing to help people examine the impact of trauma on their life and the fixed or overgeneralized beliefs that might have resulted from the trauma.

What kinds of fixed or overgeneralized beliefs? That the world is unsafe or that I can’t be close to people because other people can’t be trusted.  

In contrast, you describe lovingkindness meditation as a “non-trauma focused” treatment. How so? With lovingkindness meditation, there’s no intentional uncovering of trauma-related memories. Instead, the goal is to teach people skills they can use in daily life to disengage from cycles of rumination and self-criticism about their past or worry about the future. Both approaches are valuable, but trauma-focused treatment can be very difficult for some people. We need alternatives.

The symptom severity scores for people in the lovingkindness and CPT groups both improved by about 8 to 10 points. What does that mean? It means that both approaches resulted in a clinically measurable improvement, but the effects were often modest—about 40 percent of people in each group had a reduction of symptoms. That’s what we typically see with veterans because they’ve usually been through so much trauma. In our study, half the cases of PTSD were war-related and the average veteran in our group had been through at least 10 different categories of potentially PTSD-causing trauma. 

Yet, for many of them, their symptoms improved. Why do you think lovingkindness meditation worked as well as it did? Lovingkindness practice holds a mirror up to the mind so that these fixed beliefs of being unworthy of love, or that the world is unkind, or that people can’t be trusted are brought to the surface. Lovingkindness meditation is a tool they can use to be in contact with difficult emotions without judgement. It can be a gentle antidote to many aspects of PTSD. For example, instead of avoidance and suppression, which are hallmarks of PTSD, a person is taught to “stay with” whatever arises in practice with an attitude of curiosity, openness, kindness, and acceptance. 

In the future, do you think lovingkindness meditation could become a treatment for forms of mental illness other than PTSD? That’s possible. The VA has been very open to funding research projects like ours and, within the VA system, it’s very common for veterans with PTSD to participate in mindfulness programs as part of their routine care. Apart from PTSD, there have been studies showing that mindfulness practice can have benefits for depression. Another study showed that lovingkindness meditation could help certain manifestations of schizophrenia. But, until there are more studies, we just don’t know. We’re in the early phases of a new set of interventions based on kindness and compassion for people with mental illness. It would be wonderful if our study became a jumping off point for more research.

♦

Read Kearney’s full study in the Journal of the American Medical Association here.

The post Treating PTSD with Lovingkindness appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

We don’t need an ideal society or a perfect world to practice loving-friendliness. We aren’t practicing to save the world or make it perfect. We practice for ourselves, for our own peace and well-being. Any effects beyond that are byproducts. If the focus is outside ourselves, we will never succeed. But fortunately, our own well-being is intimately bound up with the well-being of others; so truly practicing metta  (loving-friendliness) for our own benefit does benefit others.

In the Discourse on the Benefits of Loving-Friendliness (Metta Nisamsa Sutta), the Buddha lists 11 benefits derived from practicing metta—and I might add that many of these benefits are being confirmed by contemporary scientific research!

Here is the Buddha’s list:

1. You sleep well.
When you go to bed feeling loving-friendliness toward yourself and others, you will be relaxed and will sleep peacefully.

2. You wake up feeling well.
When you get a good night’s sleep, you wake up feeling rested and relaxed. With a relaxed mind and body, you are able to connect with family, friends, relatives, neighbors, and even strangers in a genuine and centered way. You feel fresh, uplifted, and joyful all day.

3. You’re not likely to have nightmares.
When you practice metta, you become solid enough to face whatever arises. And in fact, the Buddha said it’s unlikely you’ll have nightmares when you practice metta.

4. Your body relaxes and your face is joyful.
Your body reflects your mind. When you feel love for all beings, it shows on your face. Seeing your honest, relaxed face, others will gravitate toward you and enjoy being around you.

5. Even animals and celestial beings feel drawn to you.
When you practice metta, your mind generates a peaceful field around you. Children especially are tuned in to this energy—and non-humans feel it too!

One day I was walking my dog, Brown, and a couple came toward us. The woman kneeled down to Brown’s level and talked to him.

He wagged his tail and became affectionate with her. The man was frightened, and Brown growled at him.

6. Spirits protect you.
There are times we feel guided and protected by beings beyond our sight. Recognizing this as a kind of grace is a source of serenity. Whether it’s literally true or there is some other energy that gives us this sense of guidance and protection, the Buddha included this among the benefits of practicing metta.

7. Fire, poisons, and weapons will not harm you.
When we read stories of old, many of the elements are symbolic or mythic. The Buddha shared tales of adepts who practiced metta and were protected from fire, poisons, and weapons. He explained that greed, hatred, and delusion are the fires, the poisons, and the weapons against which metta protects us.

In the Fire Sermon (Aditta Pariyaya Sutta), the Buddha said that poison is of three kinds—greed, hatred, and delusion. These weapons, like daggers, he said, can cut your peace into pieces. In the Numerical Discourses of the Buddha, the Buddha described bodily, verbal, and mental weapons. In the Udana, he said, “They quarrel, squabble, and argue with each other, stabbing each other with verbal daggers: ‘This is dharma. That is not.’” In the Dhammapada, the Buddha said, “There is no fire like greed, no misfortune like hatred, no suffering like delusion, and no greater happiness than peace.”

In a well-known story about the power of metta, Uttara, a devoted follower of the Buddha, was bereft. She had been given in marriage to a man who did not have high regard for the Buddha, and so she hadn’t seen the Buddha or his disciples for two and a half months. She was feeling forlorn, and her father suggested she hire a courtesan to serve her husband while she joined the Buddha and his community for the final two weeks of their rainy-season retreat. Uttara agreed and was able to serve the Buddha and his disciples as a cook and attend his teachings.

One day as he was looking out the window of his mansion, Uttara’s husband saw her working in the retreat kitchen wearing a stained apron and thought it pathetic she was attending the retreat rather than indulging in the luxuries of life with him. Noticing his disdain for his wife, Sirima, the courtesan, began plotting to harm Uttara so she herself could become the man’s wife. Sirima boiled some ghee and left the house to splash it on Uttara.

When Uttara saw the courtesan coming to harm her, she meditated on loving-friendliness and remained completely at peace.

At the same time, Uttara’s maidservants also saw this foul deed unfolding and ran to stop Sirima. The maids tackled Sirima and began to pummel her but Uttara intervened to save her attacker.

After that, Uttara bathed Sirima in warm water and massaged her body with herbs and oil to soothe her wounds. Sirima fell to the ground and begged Uttara’s forgiveness. Uttara said she would forgive Sirima if the Buddha advised it.

The next day, Sirima asked the Buddha to forgive what she had tried to do. The Buddha asked Uttara how she felt as Sirima was pouring boiling ghee on her, and Uttara responded, “I was grateful to Sirima for serving my husband so I could spend two weeks with the noble community. I had no ill will toward her, only loving-friendliness.” The Buddha commended her, “Well done, Uttara. By not bearing ill will, you were able to conquer the one who abuses you. By being generous, you conquered the one who is stingy. By speaking the truth, you conquered one who lies.” Upon the advice of the Buddha, Uttara forgave Sirima, and Sirima took refuge in the Buddha.

In another story, the Buddha told of Culasiva Thera, who was not at all affected by poison because of his profound practice of metta. A Dhammapada commentary tells of four novice monks whose practice of loving-friendliness was so profound they were unaffected by a weapon. Not only were disciples of the Buddha protected by metta, but in one story a cow was spared being shot with an arrow because of her love and affection nursing her calf.

The Buddha taught that the six senses—seeing, hearing, smelling, tasting, touching, and cognizing—are on fire. Any one of them is sufficient to consume us. The antidote, he taught, is to know reality.

Be mindful and see how sensations and states affect you. Think of your own experience; see how much you burn with the fire of greed, hatred, and delusion, and how much you poison your mind with greed, hatred, and delusion. When you practice metta, your breathing becomes calm and you feel so much love and compassion that your mind naturally wishes all beings to live in peace and harmony.

8. Your mind immediately becomes calm.
Metta stimulates a friendly feeling that makes us calm and happy. It truly is a wonderful way of life!

9. Your complexion brightens.
Metta shows in your face. As you practice metta, joy arises. At first it is barely noticeable, but as the joy increases, it begins to pervade your whole mind and body. Metta does not rely on any particular time, place, or condition. Once aroused, it can remain present in you the rest of your life. Your face cannot hide what is going on in your mind. When you are angry, it shows on your face. When you are peaceful, everyone notices. The energy of metta spreads through your bloodstream and nourishes your whole being. You look bright and clear, calm and peaceful.

10. You’ll die with a clear mind.
The thought of dying peacefully can be comforting. When we have unresolved conflicts, death can be difficult. Loving-friendliness can make dying easier for the one passing away and for those around her.

There is a difference between true peace and the appearance of peace. You may seem cheerful; you might even make people laugh. But when you are approaching death, if greed, hatred, and delusion are still lurking deep down in your psyche, that joviality will vanish. Practicing loving-friendliness sinks into the depths of your consciousness and makes your mind genuinely calm. With metta, you will die peacefully, without confusion.

In the Anguttara Nikaya, Samavati, the wife of the king the Buddha had declared chief among those who practiced metta, was burned alive while leading a loving-friendliness retreat for women. Magandiya was the culprit. So proud of her rare beauty, Magandiya rejected suitor after suitor. One day her father saw the Buddha sitting under a tree and asked him to marry his daughter. The Buddha explained his vow of celibacy and declined in a way that Magandiya found offensive, and she was determined to seek revenge. Magandiya knew that Samavati was one of the Buddha’s favorite laywomen, so she set fire to the house where Samavati was leading a metta retreat for 500 women. They all died in the fire.

As she lay dying, Samavati declared, “Over many lifetimes our bodies have been burned over and over again. As you pass from birth to death and back to birth, be heedful!” Her words were so powerful that the 500 women dying alongside her were inspired to practice metta meditation in their final moments. Although their bodies were burned by fire, their minds were free.

11. You’ll die in peace.
If at the time of death you do not yet comprehend the highest truth, you will still go to a realm of great peace.

If you have not completed the path of awakening before you die, the peaceful mental state generated by metta will still allow you to be reborn in a heavenly realm.

Regardless of whether we consider heaven a real or figurative place, this portends well and encourages us to practice loving-friendliness while we can.

♦

From Loving-Kindness in Plain English: The Practice of Metta, by Bhante Gunaratana (2017). Reprinted by arrangement with Wisdom Publications, Inc., wisdompubs.org

[This story was originally published in 2017]

The post 11 Benefits of Loving-Friendliness Meditation appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.

Like many others who have followed the news out of cities like Ferguson, Missouri, Baltimore, Chicago, Baton Rouge, and Minneapolis in recent years, meditation teacher and acupuncturist Mona Chopra has thought extensively about police violence and race relations in the United States.

“I kept having this feeling of ‘What can I do?’” Chopra told Tricycle. “There have been so many emotional reactions over what has been going on, not just now, but throughout history. I wanted to do something where people can come together in community.”

At the same time that Chopra was feeling a strong pull to take action, artist Simone Leigh was planning the opening of “The Waiting Room,” her new exhibition at the New Museum in New York City. Leigh, who is known for her sculptures and video installations, explores the experiences of black women in terms of health, wellness, and self-care throughout “The Waiting Room.” Visitors also have the opportunity to attend several “care sessions” that are held inside the museum. The sessions include massage therapy, opportunities to learn about healing herbs, community acupuncture, and a guided meditation for Black Lives Matter.

“Simone contacted me a few weeks prior to the opening of “The Waiting Room” to say, ‘Hey, are you interested in doing a meditation for Black Lives Matter?’ It was very synchronistic,” Chopra said.

Chopra decided to focus her guided meditations on metta—a concentration practice centered on sending lovingkindness to yourself and others.

“In this climate, it can be so easy to polarize, then to further polarize, and to feel like it’s always ‘us versus them,’” Chopra pointed out. “When we do that, we are hardening our hearts. We are furthering closed-mindedness. In that way, metta can really be a powerful tool to keep us connected where we usually shut down.”

One of the reasons Chopra thinks her metta meditations have been particularly successful is that as the meditation progresses and the circle of inclusion widens, the practice becomes more challenging. “I can easily offer my love to my 4-year-old niece, but it might be more difficult to do that for someone I buy groceries from,” Chopra said. “It’s harder still when you have to offer love to a politician who says things that are totally ludicrous.”

In keeping with traditional metta practice, Chopra begins her meditations by urging followers to offer their love to people they’d naturally express those feelings to before working their way to more challenging offerings. “The way I’ve been leading it is beginning by specifically naming groups of people Black Lives Matter activists are talking about, people who have been killed by police, but also to law enforcement officers who may have lost their way.”

Chopra said she can feel the emotion in the room as the meditators begin to include challenging people. “There’s been a gravity to this,” Chopra said. “It’s been really quiet. Some attendees have never meditated before—there’s just been a really beautiful quality to it.”

These offerings are not the easiest to give—even for Chopra. During the original planning phases, she initially debated leaving the offerings to the perpetrators of violence out.

“I had to check myself,” she said, becoming emotional. “I thought about skipping it. I asked, ‘Can I offer it to people who have been involved in this violence?’ But I wanted to push past the edges of my comfort zone. Skipping it would really seem like making someone an ‘other.’ That is someone’s son or daughter. That person is a product of a racist society.”

As she did more meditation sessions, Chopra felt assured that she made the right decision. “I could feel the resistance, but that is why we do the practice. If we only do it toward people in our hearts, we won’t move forward.”

Simone Leigh’s “The Waiting Room” will be on display at the New Museum through September 18, 2016.

The New Museum’s next Meditation for Black Lives Matter will be held on Saturday, August 27, 2016. To RSVP, please email waitingroom@newmuseum.org with “Meditation” and the requested session date in the subject line. All sessions will be led by Mona Chopra, except for those occurring on July 23, August 27, and September 17, which will be led by Aimee Meredith Cox.

The post Why this Meditation Teacher is Incorporating Black Lives Matter Into Her Practice appeared first on Tricycle: The Buddhist Review.