It’s all about joy!

I first learned about metta, or loving-kindness, six months ago at a meditation retreat. Since then, I’ve read a bunch of books on it, listened to loads of downloadable dharma talks and come across a variety of teachers who have helped drive home key points for me.

One definition I like (and am partial to because it’s offered by Insight Meditation Society, which is the retreat center I went to) says that metta is “a practice [that] helps cultivate our natural capacity for an open and loving heart…[It is meant to] enrich compassion, joy in the happiness of others and equanimity. These practices lead to the development of concentration, fearlessness, happiness and a greater ability to love.”

The thing about loving-kindness is that it’s an ongoing practice. As such, there are days when metta comes easily for me, and days when it’s a struggle. There are times when I find it’s easier to love others than to love myself, and still other times when I’m bothered by just about everything. Marvelous days are when I’m floating through my metta practice and feeling genuine warmth and kindness toward all beings. During those times, love seems less like an emotion and more like a force of life; it flows in and out of me as easily as the air I breathe.

The tricky thing about loving-kindness is that no one is left out. Those who practice it are encouraged to love even the most difficult people (critics, enemies, those at odds with our beliefs, those who wish to harm us, etc.). Again, depending on my frame of mind, some days it feels easier to love those who are against me than others.

What strikes me as funny, though, is how hard it can be to simply love a stranger - someone with whom I’ve had little to no interaction. One would think loving an enemy would be tougher than extending metta toward a harmless stranger, and yet that’s not always the case.

One reason this could be is that my mind invents stories about strangers. With little to no interaction with someone, and by merely watching them (their body movements, how they talk to others, a look they may or may not throw my way), I can invent an entire story about who they are:

• If they’re nice or not
• How polite they are
• Their level of intelligence
• If they’re self-aware and/or self-absorbed
• The likelihood that we’d be friends…

My enemies, on the other hand, have given me full scripts to go by. We’ve interacted and exchanged blows. I don’t need to assume much, because they’ve already shown me who they are. What’s more, our purpose in each other’s lives is well established, and we’re resigned to it for the time being. My mind rests easily with such knowledge.

Strangers, on the other hand, turn my mind into a rabid story teller. In order to relate to the people I don’t even know, my mind must invent context!

If my thoughts paint the stranger in a kind light, then extending loving-kindness towards them feels easy. Their assumed positive traits fill me and that’s what I respond to. If, on the other hand, my mind casts dark shadows on them based on what I’ve observed, metta is edged out by malice. My mind gets wrapped up in a negative space until I’m able to gather evidence about them to the contrary.

One example I hope others can relate to: at the gym I go to, I frequently see the same people day in and day out. If I run into any of these people outside of the gym and we have pleasant exchanges, even though they’re strangers, it’s easy to feel warmth and kindness toward them. If I run into others, though, who don’t return my smile when we pass each other in the parking lot, well, those are the people I have a tougher time extending metta toward. For whatever reason, my mind latches on to what I deem to be unfriendly behavior and invents stories from there.

If I were more advanced in my metta practice, I’d probably be able to ignore such occurrences and just let these people be. If I didn’t normally take things so personally, maybe I could simply assume ignorance instead of malice (as in, “Maybe they didn’t see me smile.”). Well, more times than not, neither is the case. No, sir! Instead I let my mind twist perfectly harmless events into stories that end up making these strangers feel more like enemies. How silly!

Quote obviously, these people are not my enemies at all. They, just like the others with whom I exchange pleasantries, are my brothers and my sisters. They are the ones who are teaching me about myself and giving me a broader platform from which to practice loving-kindness. They deserve my thanks instead of my storytelling.

Above all, they deserve my metta.