By David Jones
Someone online said they weren’t seeing results from their ongoing Metta Meditation practice and wondered if they were doing it wrong.
Folks online asked the seeker to describe every part of their practice in complete detail so the problem could be pinned down. But all I could think was, “Maybe they’re just leaving their Metta on their cushion.”
There are lots of videos and step-by-step guides out there: how to set up your meditation environment, how to sit, what to say—pretty much everything you’d want to know about Metta Meditation. For some, Metta is simply another meditation style. But I believe to actually practice Metta is to carry it with you when you leave the cushion. That’s how it begins to have real effect.
I’m not meaning any disrespect to anyone’s practice here. I just believe that meditation is best when it begins to transform our thinking and actions, whereas if it’s just words said on a mat then its transformative power isn’t going to be as effective as it could be. You kind of get out of it what you put into it.
In some ways, I see Metta Meditation as a form of prayer, speaking intentions into the universe for everyone’s benefit.
But like prayer, I need to act in accord with my words. First I put those thoughts out there, and then I try to apply them throughout my own life. Some folks act like just saying a prayer’s words is all that’s needed. “I’ve said the words. My part’s done. I’m outta here!”
So if prayer is just saying routine words, how effective do we expect it to be? Likewise, if Metta is just phrases spoken while sitting on a cushion, what can we honestly expect from it? Just saying the words may not be enough to change anything. The words and the traditions behind them are vital, don’t get me wrong; I’m just saying they should remain vital long after we’ve left our meditation spot and we’re driving to get pizza for dinner.
You’ll know what I mean when someone runs a red light right in front of you. The things you start thinking about that person and their circumstances can be a good barometer for how present Metta is in your own life. For example, hoping that idiot has an accident is a pretty big hint.
Now I can’t expect to get everything right the first time or even all the time, which is why it’s called a practice. So how do I try to practice Metta beyond meditation?
Here are three things I keep in mind:
1. Metta symbolizes an awareness that everyone is equal when it comes to the need for well-being. In other words, no one deserves it more or less than anyone else. When I read of folks who hurt their spouse or child, it makes me mad. I want that person to be hurt in return, which is all about my emotions rather than the well-being of all others. So I examine that reaction when it arises.
2. Metta recognizes we’re all connected to each other. My enemy suffers, therefore I suffer. I suffer, therefore my wife and children suffer. It doesn’t do much good to wish well only upon those I love and not for those I hate.
I know it’s not popular to admit I hate someone, but the truth is that Buddha wouldn’t have warned against it if no one ever had it. There can be hatred in a low-key or passive form in our lives, such as when we treat others less well because they believe, think, or act differently than we do. If I refuse to face my authentic, honest hatreds then I’ll never truly be liberated from them.
3. I need to employ Mindful Awareness so I can see where and how Metta exists across my life. Practice doesn’t begin when I sit down and end when I stand up; it’s active when I’m walking in my chaotic grocery store full of people who just want to get their stuff and get back home, when I listen to annoying dogs barking incessantly in the backyard, when I see the rights of the violators and the violated plastered on news from the Middle East, when I see anger in the streets and pain online.
Metta is an expression of Bodhisattva ideals, of recognizing and acting to reduce the suffering of everyone. It expands to include the oceans and the deserts, the trees and the grass, the kitty cat and the rhinoceros, the politicians and the disenfranchised, the protestors and the authorities, the satisfied and the frustrated, the ones fighting and the ones fleeing the fighting.
So when someone runs a red light I sigh, then I offer Metta: “I hope they’re okay. I hope they aren’t racing to a crisis of someone they love. I hope they don’t have a wreck and I hope no one gets hurt by that driver. Amen.”
And I mean it—these words mean nothing if I don’t honestly believe them. I think that’s why it’s less important to repeat the correct Metta Meditation words than it is to have the right views behind them affect our lives in every possinle way. Then if we truly want wellness for everyone, we’ll think and act accordingly throughout our days and nights.
Then when I fall down on the job—and I will—hopefully I’ll remember that the pain-relieving salve of Metta is first of all spread on myself so I can spread it on everyone else. The most important work we do begins at home. After all, how can I want well-being for everyone if I don’t first want it for myself? If I don’t clean the pump, all the water I offer anyone else will be dirty.
Be well. Please.
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Photo: Pixabay
Editor: Dana Gornall
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