Professional Documents
Culture Documents
GILBERT - Paul - Mindful Compassion
GILBERT - Paul - Mindful Compassion
“Packed full of useful resources for therapists and coaches, this book is
for anyone interested in the links between evolutionary science,
compassion, and mindfulness. It is especially of interest to those who
wish to know more about Buddhist perspectives on mindfulness.”
—Russ Harris, author of The Happiness Trap
“The wise and powerful lessons contained in this book hold many keys
to our liberation from suffering. Reading the kind words of these
authors, it feels as though the reader is receiving a direct, personal
transmission from learned experts. Grounded in the state of the art of
our science and steeped in the wisdom of Buddhist psychology,
Mindful Compassion is often the first book I will recommend to people
who seek to deepen their personal practice.”
—Dennis Tirch, PhD, adjunct assistant clinical professor at
Weill Cornell Medical College and author of The
Compassionate-Mind Guide to Overcoming Anxiety
Publisher’s Note
This publication is designed to provide accurate and authoritative information in regard to the subject matter covered. It is sold with
the understanding that the publisher is not engaged in rendering psychological, financial, legal, or other professional services. If
expert assistance or counseling is needed, the services of a competent professional should be sought.
Distributed in Canada by Raincoast Books
Copyright © 2014 by Paul Gilbert and Choden New Harbinger Publications, Inc. 5674 Shattuck Avenue Oakland, CA 94609
www.newharbinger.com
Cover design by Amy Shoup
Text design by Tracy Marie Carlson
Acquired by Tesilya Hanauer
Edited by Elisabeth Beller
All Rights Reserved
1. Waking Up
The Four Noble Truths and Modern Psychology
Emergence and Interconnectedness
The Buddha’s Story and Us
Key Points
2. Evolved Mind and Motivations
Understanding Our Origins—The Flow of Life
The Evolutionary Journey
The Consequences of Evolution for Mindful Compassion
Old and New Brains
The Problems with Humans Getting Smart
How the Brain Coordinates Itself
Motives Coordinate the Mind
Minds Full of Conflicts
The Affliction of Self-Identity
The Shamed Self
The Compassionate Self and Its Benefits
Bringing Our Story Together
Key Points
3. Emotional Systems
Problems with Emotions
Emotional Regulation Systems
Threat and Self-Protection System
Why the Threat System Gives Us a Hard Time
Drive and Resource-Seeking System
The Soothing/Affiliation System
All Want Love and to Be Loving
Key Points
4. Emergence of Compassion
What Is Compassion?
Healing: Definition of Compassion
The Attributes of Compassion: Engagement
Bringing the Attributes Together and the Emergence of Compassion
Skills of Compassion: Alleviation and Prevention
The Two Psychologies of Compassion: Bringing Them Together
Key Points
5. The Challenge of Mindfulness Practice
The Role of Mindfulness
Problems That Can Arise with Mindfulness
Mindfulness and Motives
Key Points
6. The Lotus in the Mud
Understanding How Compassion Can Be Undermined
Compromised Soothing/Affiliation System
Misunderstandings About the Nature of Compassion
Fears of and Resistances to Compassion
Fear of Happiness
Emotional Memory
Affiliation and Emotional Memory
Affiliation and Emotional Fusion
Affiliation and Anger
Affiliation and Slowing Down—In the Culture of Speeding Up
Psychology of Avoidance
The Story of Chenrezig
Compassion as Ascent to the Angelic?
Compassion as “Cleansing and Purifying” Inner Poisons
The Real Story of Compassion—Descent
Descent: Choden’s Personal Journey
Descent and the Emergence of Compassion: The Beginning of New Life
Compassion and the Flow of Life
Key Points
Paul
I grew up in Nigeria in the 1950s and lived there until I was twelve years old.
Living far away from any major towns, I had a fantastic sense of freedom, but I
also saw a lot of suffering: poverty, and people with leprosy and other illnesses,
all struggling to survive. I recall being quite distressed by a man asking me for
money; his face and fingers were eaten away by leprosy. I spent my adolescence
in a rather harsh boarding school in Britain, disconnected from my family and
previous lifestyle. My first degree was in economics, but as I had always wanted
to work closely with people, I did a second degree, eventually qualifying as a
clinical psychologist in 1980.
I was very interested in how and why our minds evolved and came to
function in the way they do. My focus was on depression, which can be so
destructive that it can even lead people to kill themselves. Many early
psychotherapists, such as Freud and Jung, realized that we need to understand
the mind against an evolutionary background. When looked at through the lens
of evolution, we can see something that most people often don’t recognize,
which is that this brain of ours is wonderful and complex but not that well put
together. In fact, our brains are very “tricky” to handle and come with a lot of
glitches and difficulties. It turns out that the way our minds and brains evolved
can set us up for a lot of suffering. As I began to realize this, it was like a light
coming on. It made sense of so much. In 1989, I published a book called Human
Nature and Suffering, exploring these ideas.
I had always been very interested in nature programs, and I remember seeing
one on how turtles scrambled from their sand nests trying desperately to reach
the sea, only to be picked off by seabirds, foxes, and many other predators in the
first hours of life—most of them wouldn’t make it to adulthood. I think that
David Attenborough and his team’s wonderful work has perhaps done something
that he may not have anticipated, which is to bring home the harshness and
cruelty of nature: most life-forms must eat other life-forms to survive, the young
are common targets for predators, and viruses and bacteria are life-forms that kill
and maim and cause suffering to many other life-forms in a narrow pursuit of
their own welfare. Then there is the small matter of recognizing that our own
lives are very limited, and we will, like all other living things, flourish, decay,
and die.
On becoming aware of these issues, I, like many of my generation,
developed an interest in Buddhism in the late 1960s and the 1970s and dabbled
in some meditation. But it was becoming aware of the deeper teachings that
inspired me.
About 2,500 years ago, the Buddha worked out that life is about suffering,
partly because everything is impermanent: all living things come into existence,
flourish, decay, and die. The Buddha, of course, knew nothing about the
scientific processes that lie behind the way things are, such as the Big Bang
theory of the universe, the workings of our genes, and the processes underlying
the flow of life, but he was able to focus on a very simple but profound
observation—everything changes and nothing lasts. Despite this impermanence
(which is obvious to anyone who thinks about it for a moment), we have minds
that seek permanence and stability; and yet these very same minds are chaotic
and consumed by easily activated passions, desires, fears, and terrors. The
solution, the Buddha suggested, is to develop a clear insight into the nature of
our predicament and tame the grasping mind so that we are less pulled this way
and that.
This is fascinating stuff, and evolutionary psychology has added this insight:
our brains and bodies evolved as survival and reproducing vehicles for genes.
No wonder we have such a problem. It really is not our fault. As I spoke to my
Buddhist colleagues about these insights, something seemed to strike a chord in
them. Many acknowledged that they had never really thought about it like that.
They said that sometimes it’s very easy to convey the idea that we have a chaotic
mind and that we are suffering because we’ve done something wrong or haven’t
done something right. Evolutionary understanding completely removes that kind
of blaming and shaming. I’ve spent many years trying to understand shame and
to help people who suffer from it, so marrying evolutionary understanding with
Buddhist insight and training became something of a mission for me.
So at that lovely conference on the beautiful Holy Isle, Choden and I had the
opportunity to walk, taking in the beauty of the island, and to talk in depth about
our different approaches. (We also took swims in the cold Scottish sea that were
quite invigorating, to say the least!) We shared many similar ideas about the
problems of the human mind and the difficulties of training it. He noted that
when people begin to practice mindfulness and compassion in depth, it can
actually bring up very painful and difficult feelings. (He describes his own
experience of this in chapter 6.) So it wasn’t long before we both recognized that
it would be a tough but exciting project to try to write something together,
integrating our different understandings and experiences: mine from the
perspective of clinical and evolutionary psychology and Choden’s from a
Buddhist tradition.
Although I had explored the concept of training minds in compassion in an
earlier book (The Compassionate Mind, 2009), we wanted to include
mindfulness as a basis for training in compassion; explore some of the obstacles
that people encounter when they begin to train the mind; and, in particular,
develop a step-by-step set of practices rooted in Choden’s training and my
experience of developing practices for people struggling with mental health
problems.
You will see some differences in writing style that we have tried to smooth
out, but we are not trying to disguise the source of the writing. I saw my task as
building the insights from the science of mind and mind training and Choden’s
as bringing ancient practices to life for the Western mind. The last few years
have certainly been an opportunity of great learning for me; and I express
considerable gratitude for Choden’s patience and perseverance in explaining
things. I have been inspired by his knowledge and openness to think deeply
about certain practices and to not be afraid to think of things in new ways. I’ve
also been impressed by his openness and preparedness to engage in personal
exploration of some very difficult issues (which he tells us about in chapter 6).
And of course I have valued his friendship.
We’ve also had the opportunity of running some compassion-focused
retreats together where we could develop and refine the practices in part II. The
retreats involve periods of silence, reflection, and inner practice for building
skills to cultivate our compassionate minds and engage more effectively with the
world. These have generally proved very beneficial for people and certainly have
been for me as a participant. We hope to continue these in the future.
Choden
My journey into Buddhism and intensive meditation practice took a somewhat
unusual route. I grew up in Cape Town in the dying days of the apartheid era. I
was privileged to lead a middle-class life and got pretty much everything I
wanted at a material level. But I was not happy. Some big part of me felt unborn
and unlived. Part of this was to do with living in a divided society. It affected us
all. As a white person, I felt separated from the instinctual power of black Africa
and felt condemned to live in the sanitized world of white privilege and
prosperity. So despite enjoying good material circumstances, there was always a
deep, nagging sense of dissatisfaction in me. Is life just about getting a house, a
job, a partner, going on lavish holidays—is there not something else too? These
questions lay unformed in my young mind.
Later, when I became a Buddhist monk, this resonated with the story of the
Buddha who, despite being a prince with great affluence and prestige, felt
somehow deeply out of accord with his life. Upon seeing how material
prosperity did not deal with the deep questions of life and the suffering he saw
around him, the Buddha renounced his affluence and privilege. As described
later in this book, he deserted his palace and went alone into the wilds to seek
out the roots of suffering and the causes of genuine happiness and peace.
Something that shocked me when I was still young was the murder of my
primary-school headmaster by thieves who broke into his house one night and
raped his wife. At a stroke, some part of my childhood safety was shattered.
What struck me much later when looking back is how precious and fleeting this
life is and how so many people live in a private, inner world filled with shame
and secret pain, yet so little is spoken about it in this world and so few skills are
provided for navigating this inner terrain.
After leaving school, I spent five years studying law, then graduated, and
worked at a small law firm in Cape Town doing my legal internship. I spent
most of my time at the debtors’ court applying for orders to seize the property of
people who could not pay their debts. I felt like a cog in the capitalist machine
bringing more misery to people who were already oppressed and exploited. At
this time I met Rob Nairn, a well-known meditation teacher and former
professor of Criminology at the University of Cape Town. He had just given up
his professorship and had founded a Buddhist retreat center in Nieu Bethesda in
the semidesert region of the Karoo. He taught me meditation and became a close
mentor and friend.
After I completed my articles, I was admitted to the sidebar of the Supreme
Court as an attorney in 1985. I always knew deep within myself that this was not
my destiny; it was instead a powerful part of my conditioning and a way of
living out my father’s dream of becoming a lawyer. I was then conscripted into
the army for two years in the last days of apartheid and felt even more intensely
the polarization within South African society. During basic training, I used to sit
in a disused toilet and do my meditation practice. One night the duty corporal
ran into me on the parade ground and seeing that I had a small Tibetan rosary in
my hand, accused me of smoking a joint. I said, “No, I am saying my mantra.”
He was so dismayed and it was so far outside his field of perception that he
completely avoided me after that. I think he thought I might cast a spell on him!
Soon after my national service was complete, I decided to leave South Africa
and follow Rob Nairn to Scotland. My father had always said that I should
complete my studies and then “go and meditate in the Himalayas.” He always
thought that my spiritual calling would be a temporary phase and that I would
soon return and take up my career as a lawyer, marry, and have a family. But
this was not to be. I had never left the country before, but after I did leave in
1990, I did not return for seven years.
First, I worked at Samye Ling monastery in southern Scotland, studying and
practicing meditation. Then in 1993, I undertook a three-year, three-month
meditation retreat. This was a huge experience in my life and a big turning point.
The retreat was completely secluded and set in the rolling green hills of
Scotland. Most of the time the weather was wild and stormy, and in the winter
time, it snowed so often that the roads were frequently impassable. There was a
strict regime of meditation from 4:30 in the morning till 10:00 at night. We were
learning and practicing the deep tantric methods of Tibetan Buddhism that were
about transforming our mind at its deepest level. The group was international
and comprised Italians, Spaniards, Americans, and English, but very few Scots.
During the retreat, we lived in very small and austere rooms with little more than
a shrine, a small cupboard, and a box for meditating and sleeping in.
My father came to visit me just before I went to the retreat and asked me
where the bed was. I said, “Dad, there is no bed. We sleep in a meditation box!”
At that moment, one of the monks started blowing a long Tibetan horn designed
for the Himalayas, and it let out a shrill, deafening sound, whereupon my father,
not known for his spiritual austerities, said, “Get me out of here—I need to go to
the pub and have a strong whisky!” But he was amazingly tolerant of my
unusual journey, especially given that he had paid for my expensive school and
legal training.
There was a six-month period during the retreat when we were not able to go
outdoors and were completely silent—it was just ourselves, our minds, and the
wild Scottish winter. But it was an extraordinary and transformative experience,
especially looking back now. Unsurprisingly, when I came out of the retreat, it
took some time to readjust to the outside world. When we had started the retreat,
there was no such thing as the Internet or e-mail, so when we emerged in March
1997, we were all intrigued to know what this new cyber world was all about.
Soon after coming out, I took robes and, all in all, I was a monk for seven years
including the retreat.
Despite the fact that I deeply resonated with the tantric practices of Tibetan
Buddhism and felt its transformative potential, I realized that not many people
would embark on such an austere journey and subscribe to an ancient spiritual
tradition from the East. So I began to work with Rob Nairn on developing a
more straightforward approach that involved teaching people simple skills to
work with stress and depression. For most people, the idea of becoming
enlightened is a mere daydream, and a more pressing reality is to stabilize and
gain insight into our wild minds and learn to cultivate skillful ways of thinking
and behaving. This became known as mindfulness meditation, a secular approach
to working with the mind that does not involve joining any religious tradition.
In 2008, I met Paul Gilbert on Holy Isle. We had invited him to present at a
conference on neuroscience and compassion. He and I made an immediate
connection. What struck me from the start about Paul was his focus on self-
compassion and how important this is in accompanying mindfulness and
working with the mind. Also what struck me was his notion of affiliate
connection—how we are biologically set up to connect and relate with others,
and if we are starved of these connections, our lives are greatly impoverished.
This resonated with my background of Mahayana Buddhism in which
compassion is at the forefront of training the mind. So we began to have many
fascinating discussions, and out of these dialogues, the idea of writing a book
together was born.
In 2009, Rob Nairn and I played a key role in launching an MSc program in
Mindfulness with Aberdeen University in Scotland, though the ideas of Paul
Gilbert strongly shaped our approach to working with mindfulness and
compassion together. In fact, this is the first Master’s program in the UK that
actively involves the teaching of compassion within a mindfulness training
context. So the focus is not only on learning to be present and centered, but also
on being kind and caring to ourselves as well as working directly with the self-
critical mind.
We hope this book will provide readers with new insights into the
relationship between mental health problems, our evolutionary history, and how
easily our minds can be shaped by the environment in which we grow up. One of
this book’s themes is that many of the problems we have with our minds are not
our fault but that, nevertheless, we need to take responsibility for training our
minds. After all, it might not be your fault if a lightning bolt destroys your roof,
but it is your responsibility to repair it—and learning how to do that skillfully is
not a bad idea. Mindfulness and compassion are both means for doing just this
and healing some of the other problems that nature has unwittingly bestowed
upon us. While the struggle of evolution has built complex minds with complex
motives and emotions, only humans have the potential to understand their own
minds, train them, and make wise choices as to what kind of person they want to
become.
Acknowledgments
Paul
I’m delighted to be able to say that I owe a debt to so many. First, of course, to
my family, especially Hannah (who promotes compassion with her own website,
http://www.compassionatewellbeing.com) and James for their support and
encouragement, with special loving appreciation to Jean (who usually wakes
alone to my early morning writing). I now use speech software (I can’t type to
save my life), so she hears me chattering away. Heartfelt appreciation to the
support and work of Chris Irons, Kirsten McEwan, and Corinne Gale for being
wonderful research colleagues over many years—people I’ve been lucky enough
to publish with, who did the clever bits. Special thanks to Andrew Gumley and
Christine Braehler in developing and testing the compassion approach to
psychosis.
Many thanks to all the colleagues and friends at our charity the
Compassionate Mind Foundation (http://www.compassionatemind.co.uk), in
particular: Diane Woollands, Chris Gillespie, Jean Gilbert, Mary Welford,
Deborah Lee, Chris Irons, Michelle Cree, Ken Goss, and Ian Lowens. In
America, Lynne Henderson, Dennis Tirch, and Russell Kolts have trained with
me, bringing their many years of experience in meditation and clinical
psychology to developing and advancing compassion-focused therapy and
writing their own books on shyness, anxiety, and anger. Mauro Galluccio has
been exploring the compassion approach for the conduct of international
negotiations, and we now have many colleagues throughout Europe and indeed
in other parts of the world who are using the model in their own inspiring ways.
From the work of many, evidence is gradually emerging for the value of
compassion-focused approaches to many aspects of life. Following the scientific,
evidence-based approach is something that both Choden and I are deeply
committed to.
Much appreciation goes to Chris Germer for his inspirational work on
mindfulness and self-compassion and his preparedness to share so much and
advise so kindly and wisely. Matthieu Ricard has been inspirational for us too.
We are immensely grateful for some of the practices, the many discussions, his
taking time to read some of this book and offer us his wisdom and kindness. You
can see many of his ideas on compassion by following him on YouTube. Kristin
Neff has also been a pioneer with her focus on self-compassion.
For many years, we have been keen to advance training in compassion-
focused therapy, and so many thanks to Paul Lumsdon and Guy Daly, who
together enthusiastically made possible the finances and organization to start the
first postgraduate training in Compassion Focused Therapy in January of 2012
as a collaboration between the Derbyshire Healthcare Foundation Trust and the
University of Derby. At the university, Linda Wheildon, Michael Townend, and
especially Wendy Wood, the program leader, have been extraordinarily hard
working in getting the process of the postgraduate training organized. Wendy’s
experience and enthusiasm have provided delight and great relief.
When I started clinical work in 1976, I had little idea at all of the importance
of teaching people with mental health difficulties the value of developing
compassion. Special thanks must go to the many people I have worked with over
the last thirty years. They have not only taught me the importance of compassion
but also about the real struggles and difficulties, fears, sadness, and yearning that
can come with engaging compassionate feeling. Without them, their courage,
insights, and support, we would understand far less.
Last but not least, I offer much gratitude and friendship to Choden for his
enthusiasm in engaging in this project, keeping going when it became very
tiring, and working to try to balance the importance of scientific insight with
personal practice. I have certainly learned a lot and have been changed in the
process. I hope to continue doing so.
Choden
I would like to acknowledge and thank Lama Yeshe Rinpoche, my spiritual
teacher, for his wise and compassionate support over many years of guiding me
on the Buddhist path.
I also want to thank Rob Nairn for his friendship and wisdom in shaping our
particular approach to mindfulness training. Our partnership resulted in the
formation of the Mindfulness Association, which is committed to teaching a
compassion-based mindfulness training.
I would like to acknowledge the Mindfulness Association as being the source
of the mindfulness teachings and practices that inform chapters 7 and 8 of the
book. For anyone wanting to practice a compassion-based mindfulness training
drawn from these chapters, see http://www.mindfulnessassociation.net.
Thanks also to the core team of the Mindfulness Association, who have
shaped our compassion-based mindfulness training: Heather Regan-Addis,
Norton Bertram-Smith, Vin Harris, Annick Nevejan, Fay Adams, Kristine
Jansen, Clive Holmes, and Angie Ball.
I would like to thank Dr. Charlotte Procter for her work on the Mindfulness
Scotland Manual, which influenced our mindfulness training, some of which is
reflected in chapter 7 of the book.
Last, but certainly not least, I would like to thank Paul for his support and
kindness over the last few years. He has been a great friend.
Both of us wish to thank all the folks at Constable & Robinson for their hard
work, in particular, Fritha Saunders for her continuing encouragement and
enthusiasm. She is a delight to work with, and we have been most fortunate in
having her as our editor.
Introduction
Have you ever thought about how wonderful it would be if we could cure
cancer, prevent children from dying of starvation, build a more just world, and
help people find peaceful ways to resolve conflicts? If so, you are already on the
path of compassion. Focusing on the wish for others to be free of suffering and
its causes, and being happy when this comes about, might not normally be
considered as the very basis of compassion, but in fact, it is, and shortly we will
explain why.
Within Christian traditions, having a compassionate and kind orientation to
those less fortunate than ourselves, the sick and poor, is the central focus for
life.1 Commonly compassion is defined as “being sensitive to the suffering of
self and others with a deep commitment to try to prevent and relieve it.”2 This
definition is interesting because, if we think about it for a moment, we can see
that this simple statement points to two very different mental abilities or
psychologies. The first is being open and receptive to suffering, not shutting it
out. Indeed, the word “compassion” comes from the Latin word compati, which
means “to suffer with.” So we can ask ourselves what special attributes and
skills we need in order to move toward suffering. The second mental ability, or
“psychology,” is about how we then respond to suffering in ourselves and others.
In this book, we will explore these two abilities in depth and suggest methods for
training in them.
If compassion is only “to suffer with,” then it comes down to things like
sympathy and empathy, which are important but only part of the story. What is
also needed is to do something to alleviate suffering (and indeed prevent it if we
can); this is linked to the second part of the definition. This calls on a very
different part of our minds that is linked to the abilities to be kind, supportive,
understanding, and motivated for action. Now these might require actually
learning how to be mindful and accepting rather than hating or fighting with
suffering. We might also need to go more deeply into it—just like somebody
who has an anxiety condition such as agoraphobia might have to learn to go out,
face, and tolerate anxiety rather than trying to get rid of it. But the important
point we wish to make is that our abilities to engage with, tune in to, and try to
understand the sources of suffering are different from those associated with the
alleviation and prevention of suffering.
Imagine the scenario of a doctor seeing a new patient. First, doctors must pay
attention to the pain and suffering of their patients in order to identify where the
pain is and what its causes are. There is no point in trying to treat the wrong
condition. However, once they’ve pinpointed the malady, they don’t stay
focused on the pain but turn their attention to what will relieve it. They draw on
their knowledge and experience in order to prescribe a treatment that will bring
about healing. In addition, they might take their patient’s hand with a reassuring
smile and understanding that kindness helps settle fear.
Developing our inner compassion is like becoming our own doctors and
healers. We develop the ability to engage with what is painful and seek to
understand its roots, but we also need very different qualities linked to the desire
to engage wisely, supportively, and kindly. Compassion involves understanding
and acceptance of suffering but not just sitting in it—like sitting in one’s own
dirty bathwater and believing that acceptance means you shouldn’t do anything.
Indeed acceptance is an act of courage that calls for wise action (see chapter 8).
So if we only focus on the ability to engage and understand pain we actually
miss half of the story.
Key Points
There are two distinct “psychologies,” or mental abilities, that make up
compassion: one that helps us to engage with suffering, to understand it;
and another that arises from our skillful actions and our efforts to
alleviate it.
The human mind is full of competing motivations and potentials. For the
compassionate mind to arise and make a difference in our lives, we need
to actively train in both these psychologies.
Waking Up
Understanding our minds is perhaps one of the greatest challenges for modern
science and each of us personally. You don’t have to think about this very much
to recognize that the human mind generates outstanding achievements in
science, medicine, and institutions for justice, but it is the same mind that can
produce the most awful atrocities and acts of greed. For all the challenges that
we face in the world, from the injustices of rich versus poor; the need to address
global warming and nurture our planet; the need to reduce exploitation of young,
weak, and poor; to the need to develop universal health care systems—the
common denominator in all of these is our minds. It’s our minds that will create
grasping selfishness, pitting group against group, or an open, reflective,
cooperative, and sharing approach to these difficulties. And, of course, it is our
minds that are the source of our own personal experiences of happiness and joy,
or anxiety, misery, and despair.
So this book is a story about how our minds came to be the way they are,
what we now know about how they work, and, most importantly, how we can
train them to rise to the challenges we face in the external world and also within
ourselves, in the ebb and flow of our emotions and feelings. Indeed, we suggest
that the more we understand our minds, the more we will be able to understand
how and why we need to train them (which is what we set out to do in part II).
Many Eastern and Western philosophers, not to mention religions, have
struggled with the issues of the nature of our minds and the nature of suffering in
the world. In this book, we will explore insights generated from modern
psychological research but also much older traditions, including Buddhism. The
reason that there is now so much Western interest in Buddhism is because, for
thousands of years, Buddhist scholars and devotees studied and developed
practices of introspective and reflective psychology and an ethic based on
compassionate insights—ways by which individuals can become very familiar
with their minds, learn to stabilize and organize them for their well-being, and
cultivate key qualities that are associated with personal and social health. We
can explore Buddhism as a psychology of introspection and ethics that has given
rise to insights about how tricky and difficult our minds can be and what we can
do about it. So let’s start at the beginning and think about what led the Buddha to
become so interested in trying to understand the roots of suffering as arising
from our own minds.
We start with an important story that comes from the early life of the
Buddha. It is said that he was born into a family that ruled parts of a district that
is now in Nepal. His name was Siddhãrtha Gautama, but he was to become
known as the Buddha later in his life; this means the “awakened one.” The exact
date of his birth is unknown, but it is believed to be around 563 BC or 623 BC.
He died at about eighty years old, a very good age for that time.
His father, the king, was by various counts an ambitious fellow and very
keen for Siddhãrtha to become a great king in his own right. At his birth, many
wise men foretold to the king that his son would indeed be a great leader and
would be known throughout the world for many centuries. However, they
prophesied that he would either be a great king or a great spiritual adept (or
expert), depending upon the circumstances he encountered in his life. The latter
possibility caused the king great anxiety, and, desperate to prevent it, he shielded
his son from all forms of suffering and provided him with every pleasure
conceivable. He built Siddhãrtha a golden palace (maybe more than one) with
beautiful gardens, and provided him with plenty of distractions in the form of the
finest foods, wines, and young ladies.
The king gave strict instructions that everything had to be kept beautiful so
that Siddhãrtha would never discover the reality of poverty and suffering that lay
beyond his palace gates, and would therefore never want to go on any spiritual
quest. But curiosity got the better of Siddhãrtha, and one night he sneaked out of
his gilded palace. There he discovered a totally different world—one of immense
poverty and suffering, of disease, decay, death, and cruelty. It is said he saw a
man beating a horse and was overcome by his first encounter with cruelty. He
saw beggars thin and dying in the street and was shocked to see death and
poverty. Perplexed and distressed, he fled the palace under the cover of night,
leaving behind his wife and child, and set out on the dusty roads of India,
determined to understand the causes of suffering and attain enlightenment.
Unlike some spiritual teachers who came from positions of hardship and
struggle, Siddhãrtha came from a life of luxury.
The way he dealt with this traumatic shock is a very important part of the
story, with something to teach us too, because it’s quite possible he could have
thought to himself: “Oh, my goodness, it is terrible out there. I am really much
better off staying where I am. I think I’ll just go back and enjoy my life, count
the money, and keep the wine and the women flowing.” How many of us in his
position would have done just that and stayed in our bubble of pleasure? In fact
when you think about it, this is a parable for our lives—most of us prefer to live
in our own comfortable bubble and hope life is not too harsh with us. Part of the
problem is that the longer we live in the bubble and become accustomed to
turning a blind eye to the harshness of life, the more we can become desensitized
to it until something knocks on our door and brings us face to face with reality.
In Siddhãrtha’s time, India was awash with gurus and sages of all types
practicing various chanting meditations, yoga, cleansing rituals, and much else
besides—basically offering solutions to the endemic problem of suffering. He
was to sample many of them. He tried the ascetic life of giving up all desires
because desires were seen as the source of suffering. The problem was that he
nearly died of malnutrition in the process, and realized that this wasn’t a solution
at all but simply a strategy of avoidance.
One story tells of how, when he was close to death from extreme fasting, he
saw a musician floating past on a boat. The musician was tuning his instrument a
little tighter and then a little looser, until exactly the right pitch was obtained, so
that he could play the right note. Siddhãrtha immediately recognized that
balance was the crucial ingredient for so much of life as this provides the
condition for something new to emerge and flourish. In this way he came to
recognize the importance of the Middle Way—a path of balance between the
extremes of indulgence and denial.
Once he had given up the ascetic life and had begun to eat again, he knew
that he needed to find another way—this was the path of closely observing his
own mind. In the depths of his renunciation and despair, he had realized that his
own mind held the answer to the timeless riddle of happiness and suffering. He
saw that how he related to his mind, and what arose within it, determined
whether he would be happy or not. So in this way he came to see his own mind
as the greatest teacher of all. It was a source of his happiness or misery.
The First Noble Truth is that suffering exists. As Geshe Tashi Tsering points
out, there are many different types of suffering, such as the suffering associated
with old age, illness, injury, and death; the suffering associated with
encountering aversive things; the suffering associated with not being able to
have pleasant things; and the suffering linked to the way our minds operate.2
Now, in the original Pali language, the term used is “dukkha.” This has a far
wider and more subtle meaning than “suffering.” It refers to a pervasive sense of
unease in which we sense in our very gut that our lives are precariously rooted in
the shifting sands of impermanence and we cannot keep hold of what we like or
keep away what we do not like. In their very accessible introduction to
Buddhism for Western readers, Buddhism for Dummies, Bodian and Landaw put
it simply when they say that dukkha arises from meeting things that you don’t
want or like (e.g., running into a hated enemy in the street); being parted from
things that you do want and like (e.g., the death of a loved one or losing your
job); and failing to get what you want (e.g., being rejected by someone you have
fallen in love with). And then, as they point out, the Buddha asks us to reflect on
how much our lives are ruled by these three things; how much they cause our
minds to react with emotions of fear, anger, and sadness; and how we come to
discover that we are not in control of what happens in our lives.3
In Buddhist texts, dukkha is described as operating on three levels. First,
there is the “suffering of suffering”—the actual experience of pain and
dissatisfaction. One example, often cited, is eating poisoned food and then
experiencing the pain of being sick. Second, there is the “suffering of
impermanence.” The Buddha taught that the very act of being born creates
dukkha because all living things are destined to flourish for a short while and
then decay and die. Incidentally, this is true for all things in the universe. Even
our sun will one day use up its nuclear fuel, become a red giant, and then
collapse and explode, showering new elements into the universe that may one
day become the building blocks for life on some other planet. A more personal
example of the suffering of impermanence is that while we are eating poisoned
food, we may be enjoying it very much but are unaware of the poison that has
not yet taken hold—the suffering was avoidable (had we known the food was
poisoned) but unintentional (because we didn’t know). Third, there is the
“suffering of the composite”—that all things are composed of other things; and
this includes our bodies, which are made up of many parts that change and
decay. This is the most subtle level of dukkha—that pain is built into the very
fabric of being alive. It is part of the deal, and it is something that we cannot
escape, yet it is something we can learn to come to terms with. An example of
this form of suffering is that we have a body that feels pain and gets sick so
eating poisoned food can affect us adversely.
Modern science is adding to our understanding of the causes of pain in ways
that would have amazed the young Siddhãrtha. It has revealed that some of the
sources of illness are partly our genes and partly viruses and bacteria that depend
on living things like us for their own survival. They inhabit this earth with us
and, like us, they evolve, change, and multiply. In 1348–1350, Europe was hit
with the bubonic plague, caused by the bacterium Yersinia pestis. It is estimated
that this wiped out 40–60 percent of the European population in two years.
When Europeans turned up in the Americas, many of the indigenous peoples
were not immune to European diseases such as measles or chickenpox, and more
serious illnesses such as syphilis and smallpox were alien to them. These
diseases accounted for the huge decline in their populations at this time.
Furthermore, it’s extraordinary but true that the influenza outbreak that lasted
from June 1917 until December 1920 killed more people than died in the First
World War—50–100 million by some estimates—making it one of the deadliest
pandemics ever. And, of course, viruses are just one of a multitude of ways in
which our lives are brought to a premature end; there are also earthquakes,
tornadoes, floods, tsunamis, and countless other events.
While the focus of science has been on understanding and alleviating the
physical nature and causes of pain, spiritual traditions like Buddhism have
tended to focus more on alleviating suffering—that is, working with how the
mind reacts to pain. Nonetheless, the Dalai Lama has always been a keen
advocate of scientific research because the rationale behind the Four Noble
Truths is to understand and alleviate suffering in any ethical way possible, not
just through working with our minds. He has often noted that meditating is not
enough—we need action! For science to address suffering is clearly a
compassionate endeavor. It is linked to the Second Noble Truth.
The Second Noble Truth is that dukkha has a cause, or more accurately a
series of causes, and when we properly understand and address these causes,
dukkha can end. At this point it is important to make a clear distinction between
pain and suffering—dukkha relates more to the experience of suffering than the
reality of pain. In Buddhist texts, suffering primarily concerns the way our mind
reacts to pain and the meanings we put onto things. The Buddha never said we
can put an end to pain; rather, if we understand the causes of pain, then we can
take actions to avoid it. For example, if you know that smoking causes lung
cancer, then stopping smoking may prevent the onset of this disease.
But let’s consider the case where you are actually dying from cancer. In this
event, not only is there the pain of dying, but there are also the meanings you
give to the pain and the experience of dying, which then become the focus of
your suffering. Now, supposing you could control your pain through modern
medicine and you knew you would not die in agony, and you saw your life as
meaningful and perhaps believed that you would go to heaven to meet all your
dead relatives for a happy reunion. In this case, your level of suffering would be
much less than another scenario in which you felt that you could not bear the
pain, you were frightened of it, you saw your whole life as pointless, and death
was the end of the road with no life hereafter. Even though the basic event is the
same—dying of cancer—how we experience it and attribute meaning to it varies
greatly according to how our mind relates to it. Western philosophers and
psychologists have also spent time thinking about how we give meaning to
events and how that process then shapes our emotions and actions.
One of the central tenets of Buddhism is that it’s our wish for things to be
different from the way they are that can set us up for dukkha. We all tend to have
strong ideas about what we want and what we do not want, but reality seldom
accords with our preferences. It is not just a life free of pain that we want; we
want so many other things too. We want to find people who will love us and
whom we desire; we want to be free from hunger or cold; we want secure, well-
paid jobs, nice houses, and top-of-the-range cars; we want holidays, TVs, iPads;
and the list goes on endlessly. Although wanting is part of how our minds are
and the way we live our lives, the problem is that wanting can become insatiable
because we are a species that always tries to improve and get more. The Buddha
was not being unkind when he said that it is our attachments to all of these
desires that cause us trouble. He was simply pointing to the fact that if we feel
we’ve “got to” or “must have” these things, and we “can’t bear it” if we don’t,
this sets us up for suffering.
In fact there are many modern psychologists who argue exactly the same
thing. They say that it’s our inner imperatives of “got to, must, mustn’t, should,
and ought” that bind us to the path of dukkha.4 Cognitive therapies, for example,
point out that we often tell ourselves: “I can’t bear it that I feel this way” or “I
must have somebody to love me” or ‘“She should not do that to me” or “I must
have A or B.” So what really drives dukkha is this intense emotional craving—
the sense that we have to have things the way we want them. This holds us
chained to the wheel of suffering. This is similar to what many psychologists
mean when they say that it’s not so much attachment that causes us problems,
but more the motivational state of craving and “musting”; or, as the late
American therapist Albert Ellis would say, “musterbation.”5 Again, it’s not so
much wanting things that is the issue; it’s how we go about trying to secure what
we want and how we react if we can’t get what we want that are crucial.
The Buddha argued that because we are so driven to pursue pleasure and
avoid pain, we are vulnerable to the destructive emotions of greed and hatred,
and under the power of these emotions, we can inflict terrible suffering on other
living creatures. For example, the way we produce food to feed ourselves now
causes terrible suffering to billions of animals we share this planet with. This
points to a deeper meaning within the Second Noble Truth, which is that the
more self-focused we become in trying to avoid pain and service our pleasures,
the more we fall victim to greed and not sharing, and one of the consequences of
this is living in a world where some people have billions of dollars while many
others are starving and don’t even have 50 cents. In fact, a root cause of
suffering, according to the Buddha, is our fierce sense of self-centeredness.
Interestingly, modern science and evolutionary psychology reveal that being
self-focused and driven by our likes and dislikes is partly to do with genes—we
are set up by evolution to experience strong likes and dislikes as this is what
enables us to survive and reproduce. Imagine if overnight something happened
to our genes and we gave birth to children who didn’t want anything: they were
not bothered about eating, learning to walk, socializing, developing friendships,
or having sex. No species survives without genes building highly motivated
organisms to pursue these things. When you think about it, this is just common
sense, but it has serious implications for how these gene-built systems play out
in our minds. As we will see later, though, the cultures we live in and also the
choices we make are highly influential on the kind of motives we pursue.
This leads to an extraordinarily important insight and an important corollary
to the teaching of the Buddha: it is not our fault that we are the way we are with
all our drives, passions, and aversions. All of the drives of wanting pleasure and
avoiding painful things, desiring nice food, comfortable houses to live in, and
loving sexual partners, are built into the very fabric of our genes. The key point,
however, is that these basic motivations can take control of our minds in very
self-focused ways, and if we do not become aware of them, they will run the
show of our lives (we will explore this in the next chapter). This is analogous to
having a garden and not paying it any attention—it will grow in all directions,
but we might not like the result. So just as we can learn how to cultivate our
garden and make choices as to what we want to grow, so too we can learn to
cultivate our minds and make wise choices about the qualities and habits we
want to cultivate and make manifest.
The Third Noble Truth
Reflection One
Sit quietly where you will not be disturbed and consider how different you
might have been if you had grown up in a different environment. Choose any
environment provided it’s very different from the one you grew up in. Perhaps
think of one of great wealth or one of great poverty or one that is violent. What
would it be like to give up the identity you have right now? If this feels difficult,
remind yourself that this is a reflection exercise designed to provoke insight.
Notice how this resistance affects you. Try to be curious, open, even playful if
that helps. The point of the exercise is just to notice your resistance without
feeling guilty or ashamed. Paul has often reflected on the fact that giving up the
identity of “being a psychologist” would be extremely tough indeed! There is no
blame here, just mindful fascination of why it’s so important.
Reflection Two
The next reflection is to think about how you would feel if you lost the
material things around you. Again this may be difficult. For example, Paul is
very attached to his house and to his guitars, even though he doesn’t play them
very well! Again, this exercise is not to encourage you to give things up, but
simply to help you notice your resistance to losing them and how this feeds into
holding onto and needing to maintain a certain lifestyle. When we begin to think
about the suffering this would cause us, we might give a thought to what
happens to somebody in a war situation who sees their house blown up or
perhaps swept away by a tsunami—by being in touch with our own distress we
can feel that of others.
Both these reflections can help us understand how attached we are to so
much that has been created around us but also how tragic it is that some people
who lose these things can lose their very sense of identity too; or worse still, they
remain in destructive relationships and life situations because their sense of
identity depends on them.
Reflection Three
Now, without needing to change your identity too much, imagine what it
would be like to start every day thinking of yourself as a deeply compassionate
person; that you are going to train and practice every day, even for just a few
minutes; that you are on this mysterious journey of life, in a world full of pain
and suffering, and your principal job is to do what you can while you’re here.
We are going to look at this in detail in the practice section of the book, but for
the moment, think about whether this shift in orientation might open you up to
wanting to know more about the nature of life and how you can respond more
skillfully to the struggles and difficulties that occur. Focus on the joyfulness of
this reflection.
Key Points
The Buddha realized that our minds are a major source of our own
fulfillment and happiness but so too of our unhappiness and despair.
Therefore, learning to understand and train our minds is crucial. This was
expressed in his teaching of the Four Noble Truths.
In the Fourth Noble Truth, the Buddha set out a path to ending suffering
and the causes of suffering. Two key skills that are part of this path are
mindfulness and compassion. Learning to understand these skills, what
blocks them and how to train in them, is the focus of this book.
Not only do we inhabit individual minds that are very tricky, but we are
part of relationships and social systems that can be a source of happiness
or suffering depending upon many conditions that lie beyond our control.
In fact this is now a pretty standard view in psychology. Twenty years ago,
Dennis Coon opened an introductory undergraduate text on psychology with this
graphic depiction:
What Coon and other researchers suggest is that we are not unified selves,
despite our experience of being so. Rather, we are made up of many different
possibilities for creating meaning and generating brain patterns and states of
mind. What is surprising is that this knowledge is still not filtering down into
society in a more general way. Perhaps this is because the illusion of being a
single self that has control over all aspects of the mind is so powerful and
compelling that we don’t want to let go of it. As we become more mindful,
however, we become more aware of this family of competing emotions and
motives, or different types of self, that are bubbling away inside us. It is
important to remember that these are created because of basic brain design and
social context—they are not personal and not our fault—so it’s useful to shift
more and more to an observing stance and not to overidentify with them. This is
why mindfulness is so important in providing the basis from which to cultivate a
compassionate motive.
Clearly, motives and social mentalities overlap, and one can suppress
another; for example, it can be difficult to be competitively aggressive and
caring at the same time. But, of course, people switch between different
mentalities and can blend them together. Indeed, the ability to switch between
them when we need to is an indication of good mental health.11 For example, a
man may compete in the job market by trying to prove to people how skilled and
valuable he is, but when he goes home, a different self may emerge within him;
he may be a loving father who does not feel the need to compete with his
children for his wife’s affection and time. Individuals who become trapped in a
particular mentality or motivational system (like being competitive or
submissive all the time) can struggle with being cooperative, caregiving, or care-
receiving. This can then impoverish their lives in many ways. So these are
important questions for all of us: What motives can take control of our minds,
under what circumstances is this most likely to happen, and what are the
consequences of this happening? How mindful are we of our minds being
controlled by these various motives that evolved over many millions of years?
As James explains, one motive for being a certain kind of person can turn off
the attributes or qualities needed for another motive. For example, if you are
fighting your enemies, then your motivation to care for them, and your feelings
of distress at the suffering you are causing them, are all firmly turned off. You
might even take pleasure in seeing them suffer. Indeed, this seems the focus of
much of our entertainment these days. So the important point here is that there
may be some elements of our mind that are not accessible to us because other
aspects have turned them off. We may not even stop to think about the distress
we cause other people because we are so focused on our annoyance with them or
the threat they pose us and our wish to dominate or be heard.
What so often determines the course of action we take is our sense of self-
identity, who we take ourselves to be: “the bon-vivant or the philanthropist.” Our
self-identity is the way we coordinate the multiple influences that have shaped
us, the values we have acquired along the way, the things we aspire to and the
things we defend.14 Our identity is simply a way in which we can organize our
minds; otherwise it would be almost impossible to know what to think, value, or
do in any given situation.
But identity is so often an arbitrary thing. For example, as we mentioned in
the previous chapter, if we had been kidnapped as babies and brought up in
violent drug gangs, that would become our identity. This background would be
our main reference point within that culture, and we might defend our gangster
identity with a passion and genuine belief.15 Unless we had some way of
stepping outside of that culture and coming to appreciate just how much the
violent gangster identity had been shaped for us, we would have no way of
choosing to be different.
Consequently, there are many downsides to having a sense of self and self-
identity. The American social psychologist Mark Leary has actually referred to
the evolution of self-awareness as something of a curse in his book The Curse of
the Self.16 It’s a compelling read and illuminates just how tricky having a sense
of self can be because we can overidentify with its values. We then feel
compelled to defend our sense of identity and values, which can make us very
aggressive if we feel threatened, or we can become vulnerable to depression if
we feel we have lost a sense of self-identity. If identifying with being slim and
attractive is a core value that defines who we are, then putting on weight
threatens our very self-identity and can plunge us into feelings of shame, self-
loathing, and depression.
Another example might be identifying with our self as being a “tough guy.”
If someone jostles us in the pub one night, this may threaten our self-identity,
and we may feel compelled to lash out because we don’t want to lose face or
appear to be weak—especially in the case of a young male. Our self-identity can
also be linked to how we feel we belong to a particular group, for example, a
religion, country, or even a football team. This link and “fusion” of us to a group
can be so strong that if someone threatens or insults our group, we feel
personally threatened or affronted and even can take it as a reason to kill that
person. This is particularly true with certain religious groups. What is interesting
is that there may be no material losses or gains; it all comes down to attachment
and clinging to who we think we are. In Buddhism, self-identity is seen as an
illusion, and becoming attached and clinging to it as being real is considered a
cause of great suffering.
Reflection One
Consider how competitive motives work within you. Are there times in your
life where you are competing against others, be it for a new sexual partner or a
new job? Notice how you compare yourself with others and (perhaps) worry
about what others might be thinking of you. What fantasies do you have for
getting ahead in life? What do you want from achieving success? What happens
inside you when you try and fail, and when others do better than you? Are you
critical of yourself or can you accept it as part of life? Can you take pleasure in
the success of others? What happens to you when you are in conflict with other
people and have different points of view? Try not to judge what comes up, but
just be curious about how this evolved motive system works in you.
Reflection Two
Figure 2.5 Interactions of mindfulness and compassion with old and new brains
Diagrams like this are useful but, obviously, the brain does not actually look
like this, with the new brain clicked on top of the old like a Lego brick! Rather,
distinguishing between the old and the new brain in this way is simply to help us
think about how our minds work. Humans evolved a different kind of mind to
other primates over two million years ago, and the differences in our mental
abilities are obviously linked to physiological systems in the brain, which are
extremely complicated to illustrate in a diagram such as this. What this simple
diagram does illustrate, however, is how different functions of our minds interact
and work together, from which different properties and competencies emerge.
As we noted earlier, compassionate motives are linked to part of the brain
that has been associated with parental caring.24 So compassion may be using
old-brain systems, but of course our new-brain systems are vital for it too; for
example, the capacity for empathy and the ability to imagine the thoughts and
feelings of others are relatively new-brain capacities. The point and central
theme of this chapter is that motivational systems organize the mind.
Key Points
Our brains and minds have been created in the flow of life and are built
for survival and reproduction.
Our values and motives have been shaped and fine-tuned by the
circumstances in which we were born and grew up.
So much of what we are has been completely outside of our control and
is not our fault.
The way that our motives and emotions link up with these new-brain
capacities can bring out both the best and the worst in us.
This calls upon us to take responsibility for the fact that, without training
and effort, our minds can be our own worst enemy.
Emotional Systems
Motives guide us in life but they need emotions to guide them. For example,
imagine you want to be a famous musician. You will give your energy to
practicing regularly. You will experience positive emotions when your practice
goes well but may feel frustrated if it doesn’t; you will feel good when you get
an offer to play a concert but feel bad when you are rejected. Emotions ebb and
flow according to what’s happening in relation to our motives and goals.
Motives, like wanting to be a good parent or musician, can last a lifetime, while
emotions, such as anger or excitement, come and go. As we will see, compassion
is a motive—not an emotion—but it’s linked to emotions in important ways
because it also depends upon the ability to feel certain types or combinations of
emotions.
Emotions play through the body according to how our motives are going.
They give rise to feelings such as anger, anxiety, joy, pleasure, happiness, and
lust. Emotions give texture to our lives: we feel love for our children, anxiety if
something threatens them; anger at injustice; joy at success; excitement at a new
opportunity; and desire for a sexual partner. Think what life would be like
without emotions! You would have no feelings if you achieved your goals or if
your house was knocked down; you would not be stirred by seeing your children
do well or die; nothing would really matter. Life would be meaningless. This
little thought experiment helps us see how central emotions are to our lives. We
can of course feel more than one emotion in response to the same situation, and
our emotions can often conflict with each other. Our emotions are the source of
our most meaningful experiences in life, but they can also lie at the root of our
deepest problems. Some theorists even think that emotion is the root of
consciousness itself.
Our emotions can also have an impact on whether we develop our motives
and goals further or whether we give up on them. Many of us know that in order
to be successful we have to be able to keep going even when we are tired,
experience setbacks, and have feelings of disappointment and frustration. So our
motives and life goals will set us on course and our emotions will be like the
weather we meet along the way. It matters greatly, therefore, how we come to
understand the changing weather of our emotions as we travel through life and
the degree to which we allow our emotions to determine how we are in the
world.
Even though we have a “smart brain,” our emotions can easily hijack it. One
reason they can do this is because evolution has designed emotions to make
animals behave in certain ways. There is no point in having a threat system that
alerts you to a lion if there is not an immediate surge within the body to run like
hell when a lion approaches. You don’t want your smart-thinking brain slowing
you down, weighing up whether the lion is a threat or not, whether it’s eaten
already, or whether your karate moves would be up to the task of stopping it!
This type of thinking needs to be taken “off-line” so that the impulse to action is
urgent. So some emotions come with a sense of urgency, and they can knock out
the smart brain because they are designed to take control in these types of
situations.
Source: P. Gilbert. 2009. The Compassionate Mind. London: Constable & Robinson.
Anxiety Exercise
Bring to mind a time recently when you felt anxious—perhaps it was when a cyclist wobbled
out in front of your car, you put your hand in your pocket and discovered your wallet was
gone, or an aggressive-looking drunk took an interest in you as you were walking down the
street. Notice how fast anxiety can arise, how it feels in your body, how it affects your
attention and focus, and then how it affects your thinking and behavior. Recall how fast your
heart rate went up; you might have felt a churning in your stomach, you might have
sweated, or your voice might have sounded funny. Your attention becomes narrowed and
very focused on the threat and other things that might be of interest are ignored. This is the
threat system kicking in.
Next, recall the kinds of thoughts that went through your mind and how they arose, even
though you might not have wanted them to. Notice how they might spin around the thing
that you’re anxious about and how you might be focusing on the worst possible outcome.
Just notice how your mind is being controlled by the anxiety. After a few moments, switch
your attention to your behavior. What does your body want to do—run away, avoid, melt into
the background, apologize, or cry?
Reflect on the fact that the way anxiety takes control of you is not your fault; it’s what your
mind’s designed to do, and it will continue to operate in this way until you make efforts to
train it and refocus your attention.7 Even then, because anxiety is such an important part of
our emotional system, we might learn how to manage our anxiety rather than stop it
altogether.
Bring to mind a time recently when you felt angry—perhaps somebody at work was unfairly
critical of you or maybe you were angry at yourself for putting on weight. Notice how fast
anger arose. Notice how your attention becomes narrowed and very focused on the things
making you angry, while other things that might be of interest are ignored. For example,
when we’re very angry with our partners, we don’t mind how much we might love them, at
least not in that moment. Notice and recall how anger felt in your body; maybe you felt your
heart racing or tightness in the chest or clenching of the fist. And as these physical
experiences were running through you—how did the anger influence your thinking? Next
consider the feelings in your body and what anger wants to do; if anger could be in control,
what would you do—shout, slam the door, walk out, or something more? Notice how anger
can pull your mind into ruminating about the thing you’re angry about. Whether it’s a rapid
surge of anger or slow-burning frustration and irritation, notice how it wanted to take control
of your mind. Remember that these things are not your fault; it’s what anger is designed to
do unless you make the effort to pay attention to it and work with it.8
Bring to mind a situation in which you felt a mixture of emotions, in particular anger and
anxiety. For example, it could be an unwanted argument with a loved one. Once you have
got a sense of both the angry and anxious feelings, then think about what your angry self
feels toward your anxious self. Does the angry self like your anxious self? Probably not
much: it is typical for the angry self to be very contemptuous of the anxious self and see it
as getting in the way. Do spend a moment breaking off from this book to really think about
this in a curious way.
Now switch your attention. What does the anxious self think about the angry self?
It is possibly quite scared of the angry self. The anxious self knows that if
left to its own devices, the angry self could be very destructive. It will protect
you to the end of its days, it won’t let anyone stand in your way, and it won’t
take nonsense from anyone, but because it’s a very basic system in our brain, it’s
not terribly wise and it doesn’t like working with anything that can constrain it.
This is how the angry self is designed. Again none of this is our design or fault,
but it is important to understand the relationship between our emotions—
literally what they “think” and “feel” about each other. Mindfulness and
compassion will help us recognize and hold these different parts of ourselves in
balance. When they get out of balance, and our inner selves become involved in
intense conflict, then people can begin to experience mental health problems.
Some people can’t acknowledge the depth of their rage toward people who they
want to be loved by; some people use anger to keep people away and are unable
to recognize within themselves a deep sense of sadness and grief, a yearning for
love. Aggressive adolescents can often use anger like this because they may
have been hurt in the past, so it’s a way of defending themselves.
Disgust is another emotion associated with our threat-protection system. It is
very useful because it’s associated with spitting out and getting rid of toxic
substances. If you put something bitter in the mouth of a baby, she will
immediately spit it out because she is biologically oriented to do so. Disgust is
often associated with bodily excretions or functions, and is designed to prevent
contact with things that could contaminate or carry disease. We can have very
strong feelings of contamination even when we know it’s not logical. For
example, would you live in the house of a serial murderer? Disgust emotions can
have a very nasty side to them when aroused in certain situations. Disgust is
often associated with feelings of badness, contamination, or sometimes even
wickedness, and stimulates desires to avoid, cleanse, get rid of, or even
exterminate. For example, many tyrants use the language of disgust when talking
about their enemies, describing them as “subhuman,” “a disease,” or “vermin to
be eradicated.” We saw this during the Rwandan genocide in 1994, when Hutu
extremists referred to the Tutsi minority as “cockroaches.” Some people justify
moral positions using the emotions of disgust, for example in regard to
homosexuality.9 So we have to be very cautious how we use these types of
feelings to make moral judgments that guide our behaviors.
Self-disgust is also important because people can feel very bad and want to
reject parts of themselves or even self-harm. Some years ago, Paul’s research
team found that people can actually come to hate themselves and experience
strong feelings of disgust toward themselves, and that these feelings can be
linked to quite serious mental health difficulties.10 So, although disgust is an
emotion that is often ignored, it is potentially one of the more powerful emotions
when it comes to cruelty, both to ourselves and others. This is because it’s
associated with the desire to cleanse and eradicate—it can really push us into
quite cruel behaviors.11 When some Buddhist practitioners talk about certain
kinds of emotions being like “poison,” they are using the language and
psychology of disgust, which may not be so helpful. We know what they mean
—they are actually thinking about the consequences of acting on some emotions,
such as anger, fear, disgust, or lust, but emotions themselves can’t be a poison.
The key thing with emotions is understanding and transforming them, not trying
to cleanse or eradicate them, in part because these emotions are hardwired in our
brain—we are designed to experience them—so we cannot simply “get rid of”
them.
Disgust Exercise
You can do the same exercise with disgust as you have done with anxiety and anger—
thinking about what disgusts you, then noticing how it directs your attention to focus on
certain things, how it feels in your body, and how it seeks to control your thinking and
behavior. You can be curious whether there are things about yourself, your body, and your
feelings that you are rather “disgusted by” in the sense that you feel them to be bad and
would like to “get rid of them, or get them out of you”; they may feel like a stain. These kinds
of feelings can be common in people who are overweight, for example.
When you do the exercises above, you will gain insight into the fact that the
emotions of the threat system can “flush” through us and literally take control of
our attention, body, thinking, and behavior. Nobody wakes up and thinks: I need
to practice being more angry today or I need to practice being more anxious or
A bit more self-disgust wouldn’t go amiss! That we still have these emotions is
because they are part of our automatic threat-defense system.
This is where training in mindfulness-based compassion is so important
because it enables us to notice how these emotions play out and to train our
minds not always to fall prey to them. Sadly, we can see many people who
simply surrender themselves to anger, and they can behave in ways that are very
destructive to themselves and others.
Why the Threat System Gives Us a Hard Time
Although evolved for our protection, the threat self-protection system can give
us a very hard time indeed. It is the source of many mental health problems, and
even violence. This is because it’s not designed for careful thinking; it’s
designed for fast reaction because that may save your life. If you are a rabbit
munching away in a field and you hear a sound in the bushes, the best thing to
do is to run away. Nine times out of ten, it is likely to be a false alarm—but that
doesn’t matter. So it’s better to be oversensitive to threat and make mistakes that
overestimate danger than to be the other way round, because sooner or later the
tenth occasion will arrive, with the sound being a real predator this time. We call
this “better safe than sorry” thinking.
Now your threat system was designed over millions of years in these
conditions of high threat where predators were common and, if you got injured,
there was no modern medicine to help you. There are very fast-acting pathways
in your brain that, with the first flush of threat, bypass your frontal cortex and
rational thinking.12 So it’s very important to realize that in fact your brain is
actually designed to make mistakes in certain contexts.13 It will overestimate
danger for you; our ancestors who acted out of “better safe than sorry” survived,
as did their offspring. Unfortunately, this tendency to overestimate threat is one
of the reasons we have so many problems with anxiety—it’s just very easy for
our minds to go into anxiety mode. If we are prone to anxiety, it is not our fault,
but likely to be a combination of the way our brains are and the things that have
happened to us in our lives. This means that we will need to work to overcome
these tendencies—as we will see in the practice section of this book.
Another way our threat system gives us a hard time is that it directs our
attention in such a way that it blocks out positives. For example, going back to
the little rabbit munching on one of the sweetest lettuces it could find and maybe
eyeing Miss Bunny close by, if a signal indicating “possible predator” appears
on his radar, he needs to lose interest in the lettuce and Miss Bunny immediately
and run. The threat system immediately turns off any interest in anything else. If
you watch birds feeding on your lawn you will see that most of their time is
spent looking around anxiously and gingerly approaching the food rather than
actually eating it, often flying away before they do. And as we saw before, more
problems arise when we get stuck in those old-brain/new-brain loops where
threat emotions are fueling our thinking and then those thoughts fuel our
emotions, which continue to flush through us—even when the threat is long
gone. The result is that not only can we continue to feel bad long after a threat
has gone, but we will also continue to block out positive experiences.
Here’s another example that indicates how our threat system can block
compassionate awareness. Imagine you’re out Christmas shopping and you go
into ten shops. In nine of the shops, the assistants are extremely pleasant and
actually help you buy presents for less money than you were planning to spend.
You’re really pleased. But then you go into one shop where the assistant is
chatting to a friend, has very little interest in you, appears bored and at times
rude, and, on top of it all, tries to sell you something that’s of inferior quality but
at a higher price than you are willing to pay. When you go home with your
presents, who do you talk to your partner about? Will you say, “I love Christmas
because it reminds me that 90 percent of the people I run into are so helpful,
kind, and imbued with the festive spirit”? Unlikely—the threat system will make
you focus on the one person who was unhelpful, and you may end up speaking
to your partner throughout dinner about how rude salespeople are these days!
Gaining insight into how our threat emotions work and often conflict with
each other lays the basis for learning to relate to them mindfully and
compassionately. It’s important that we are not harsh or critical of how our
emotions operate, because they’re all built into us by evolution—they are not our
design and not our fault. When we give up blaming and shaming ourselves, we
can step back and genuinely take responsibility to work with them as best we
can. This is a key component of training in mindful compassion.
For the majority of us, the most important things associated with drives are
our relationships. Imagine winning a $100 million lottery jackpot, but then being
told that you will have to live the rest of your life on a desert island. The island
will have everything you want: a wonderful home, comfortable beds, swimming
pools, saunas, fancy sports cars to drive around on hundreds of miles of empty
roads, wonderful scenery, boats to sail the crystal-blue seas, the best food in the
world, and a perfect climate—it is a place where every physical desire can be
satisfied! However, the catch is that you will never see another human being
again, you will never know affection and love, and you will never be able to talk
and be intimate with anyone. Would you make that trade-off? Or would you
prefer to stay where you are, relatively poor perhaps but socially connected?
This is extraordinary when you think about it because it brings home to us
just how important relationships are, even though we live in a world that
constantly promotes the fact that material things are what bring us happiness and
that we must constantly strive for that competitive edge.18 In fact, from the day
that we’re born, our positive emotions are constantly being stimulated by our
interactions with others who smile, laugh, and play with us. Relationships are
really the lifeblood of our positive emotions and drives—just as they can be a
source of our greatest threats, sadness, anxiety, rages, and cruelty.
Consider too that we have enormous socially focused drives to be approved
of, valued, esteemed, desired, wanted, and loved; and, on the other side, to avoid
being criticized, shamed, rejected, or forgotten.19 For most of us, social drives
and needs are at the core of our sense of self and what motivates us, even if
people take them for granted. But we then just have to consider what it would be
like to be completely alone for the rest of our lives on a desert island with every
physical comfort met, and it soon becomes obvious that these kinds of pleasures
become meaningless in a world of loneliness and social disconnection.
Finally, consider that we love doing things together, to become a “we” and
not just a “me,” be it by playing on a football team or in an orchestra, working
together to land somebody on the moon, or as part of a charity. Forming groups
and feeling a part of a group because of shared interests and values can be very
important for our sense of identity and security. So we can experience joy from
doing things together. Of course there is also a downside in that groups can be
very competitive with other groups and even aggressive to people they do not
see as members of their own groups. As we well know, rival football fans often
get into fights. So this tendency to easily form into groups and then be
aggressive to “nongroup” people is something that can be a serious bias in us.
Evolution has designed our brains, like those of other animals, to be very
sensitive to who we see as part of our group and “one of us” and those who we
don’t see that way. However, the key question is, are we happy just to do what
our brains seem to push us into? Once we recognize this, as mindfulness will
help us to do, we can choose to work against that bias and genuinely follow a
more spiritual view that all of us are on this journey together as part of the same
flow of life and common humanity.
In chapter 7, we will describe ways to slow down your breathing and connect
with your body as a way of consciously accessing and developing your soothing
system. Right now, however, we are going to explore something that is
extremely important in understanding how and why the soothing system
regulates the threat and drive systems.
When babies are in a state of distress and their threat systems are aroused,
what is it that calms them down and makes them contented? It’s normally the
caring, loving actions of another person (usually their mother, but not always, of
course). Even as adults, if we are stressed and upset, we usually find that the
understanding and kindness of others really helps; this is partly because our
brains are set up to be calmed down in the face of kindness.
Indeed, experiencing kindness can reduce our heart rate and blood pressure,
thereby slowing down our body. This is the very opposite of what happens when
we feel threatened, are rushing about, or are excited.
How did it come about that the caring and affection of other people can
soothe our threat system? The story goes like this. For many millions of years,
living beings did not get looked after. For example, turtles hatch from their nests
with hundreds of other brothers and sisters, and have to dash to the sea as
quickly as they can. Sadly, many die on that very first day and are eaten by
predators that are lying in wait for them. It is estimated that 98 percent of them
do not make it to adulthood.
Around 120 million years ago, however, an adaptation occurred with
mammalian mothers taking care of their infants.24 The effect was fewer births so
that the mother (usually) could invest in her young, look after them, provide
them with food and warmth, be attentive to their distress calls, and try to relieve
that distress. Now a number of things are happening here. There have to be
changes in the brain and nervous system so that the infant doesn’t try to get
away from the parent or protect itself (as turtles might try to do). The
mammalian infant in contrast turns toward the parent and seeks closeness. So
there need to be mechanisms in the brain that guide the infant to seek closeness
and feel safeness when the parent is close; and become alarmed if the parent
becomes too distant. And of course, there need to be evolved mechanisms that
motivate the parents to take care of their offspring.25 For humans, these basic
motivations—“to take care of; look after; prevent harm, feed, and see
flourish”—are the foundations of compassion. Indeed, as we saw in the previous
chapter, the work of Simon-Thomas and her colleagues has shown that
compassion tends to work through similar mechanisms associated with parental
caring.
Let’s stand back and reflect on how the evolution of caring and affiliative
relationships affects the organization and development of our emotional systems.
Some years ago, the British psychiatrist John Bowlby studied how parents
interact and develop relationships with their babies and how these affect the
baby’s development. Evolution, he argued, created systems in the mammalian
brain that make infants seek closeness to their carers, and their carers respond to
the needs of their infants. He called this the attachment system. He argued that
how we experience our early attachment relationships will have a major effect
on how we experience and come to regulate our emotions, views of ourselves,
and abilities to relate to others.26 In his day, this was a revolutionary idea
because most developmental thinkers tended to focus on simple rewards and
punishments as the focus for development. He went further and argued that it’s
the availability and basic affection of the parent that is key to a child’s
development because the child’s brain, which is laying down many hundreds of
thousands of connections a day as he or she is growing and developing, is highly
influenced by those early life experiences—something that today has been
shown to be absolutely correct.27 The parent, he argued, creates a safe
place/base, and this is fundamental to regulating the child’s experience of threat
in the world. The parent is always somebody the child can turn to in order to be
calmed down and soothed when upset, as well as for stimulation. So when a
child is distressed and the parent picks the child up to be cuddled, this reduces
the child’s distress. In other words, the parent stimulates the baby’s soothing
system, which then calms down the threat system.28 Ideally, this goes on
throughout childhood with the parent acting as a source of comfort to the child
when he or she is distressed. However, at times the parent must also act as a
stimulator of the drive system (as in play and joyful interactions) and
engagement with threat; that is to help develop the child’s courage. Indeed, we
call it encouragement. This happens by providing a safe base for children to go
out and explore things that they might otherwise be anxious about. In this way,
the child develops an experience of her- or himself and others as being in an
affectionate, supporting, and “encouraging of independence” relationship.
These qualities of affection, kindness, and encouragement from others also
help soothe us as adults when we’re distressed. When we feel soothed, we feel
safe in our everyday lives. These feelings of soothing and safeness work through
brain systems similar to those that produce peaceful feelings associated with
fulfillment and contentment.29 In fact, interestingly and importantly, there seem
to have been changes to the parasympathetic system (the system associated with
slowing down and feeling calm and contented) that were especially important for
the development of affiliation and especially attachment. So, in a way, the
soothing parent is able to activate an aspect of the infant’s parasympathetic
nervous system. This work is especially developed by the researcher Stephen
Porges.30 The bottom line is that kindness and feeling connected to people will
help balance your sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems—and this
can be the case whether the kindness and affiliation come from yourself or from
those around you.
One research study31 found that if you ask people to imagine making their
favorite sandwich, which stimulates the drive system, this slightly shifts people
toward more sympathetic arousal, as one would expect because it’s activating. If
you ask them to imagine another person being kind to them, this seems to
increase parasympathetic activity and produces greater balance between the
sympathetic and parasympathetic nervous systems. It can also reduce cortisol (a
chemical in the brain), which is linked to the threat system. So this suggests that
even just imagining compassion and kindness is enough to start to activate the
soothing/affiliation system and tone down the threat system. Thus, again,
evidence informs us that kindness brings the sympathetic and parasympathetic
nervous systems into balance as well as reducing threat processing. The one
problem with this, though, is that it is not the case for everybody because people
who are self-critical actually can appear to become more threatened by
imagining kindness. The reasons for this are explored in chapter 6.
Substances in our brain called endorphins, which link to feelings of calmness
and peaceful well-being, are also released when we feel kindness. In monkeys,
grooming behavior like holding and stroking is associated with releases of
endorphins. Indeed, endorphins are fundamental to social interactions and how
safe we feel in our environment and relationships.32 It is possible that when we
are being kind and helpful to ourselves, experience kindness for others, and
focus on loving-kindness, we might also be releasing endorphins.
There is also a hormone called oxytocin that links to our feelings of social
safeness and affiliation. Oxytocin is very important for mammals’ attachment; if
you eliminate it, animals don’t form attachments to their offspring. Oxytocin has
been linked to trust, liking people, and feeling safe and supported.33 Paul’s
research team has also found that oxytocin seems to enhance feelings associated
with imagining receiving compassion from another person, indicating that
compassion might be linked to oxytocin systems.34 But once again, it turns out
that some people, especially those who are self-critical or self-disliking, can
experience feelings of kindness toward themselves less positively. They might
actually feel more lonely when given oxytocin! We think this is partly because
oxytocin opens up affiliation systems in our minds, but if we have difficult
memories, of, say, feeling alone, it can remind us of those things. This is related
to how our memories work. For example, for most of us, going on holiday is a
cause of excitement, but suppose on one occasion something terrible happened?
You may get over it then, but much later somebody does something that makes
you think about holidays again, and what will come back to you may not be the
pleasure and excitement of that holiday but the horrible memory and feeling. It
may be the same for self-critical people, that if we stimulate the affiliative
system, it puts them in touch with a loneliness, linked to the kindness they
wanted (perhaps as a child) but didn’t get. Now this is something we are going to
talk about in chapters 5 and 6 too, because fear of the feelings associated with
compassion and kindness can obviously be a major block to becoming
compassionate.
Taken together, then, we now know that the mammalian (particularly the
human) brain is designed to be highly responsive to signals of affection and care
that emanate from others. There is a whole range of specialized systems that
have evolved in our bodies and brains to respond to kindness and affection, help
our bodies function optimally, and create feelings of peacefulness, safeness, and
well-being. Indeed, we now know that even genes can be turned on and off in a
baby’s brain, depending on the amount of and type of affection the child receives
early in life.35 Sadly, children who are abused or severely neglected can show
quite severe changes to their brains, and are different than those who are loved
and cared for while they were growing up.
John Bowlby also pointed out that children develop ideas, expectations, and
beliefs about other people and how they are going to relate to them. So children
who receive love and affection in early life tend to see other people in relatively
benign terms and can turn to them when they need to.36 In addition, experiencing
love and affection regularly will constantly stimulate important areas of the
brain, enabling them to develop and grow. So it’s not just that we develop
positive beliefs about others, but that our brains are geared toward openness and
expectation of others as being friendly and helpful. In contrast, when things go
wrong in early childhood, children can develop beliefs, expectations, and
feelings about others and see them as less benevolent; they may see others as
easily rejecting, criticizing, or hurting.
It’s clear, of course, that the feelings of safeness in this context also go with
feelings of freedom, openness, and even exploration. To some extent, these are
drive-linked experiences in that we can actively seek them out or try to create
them. So all the time we have to keep in mind this issue of balancing the three
emotion-regulation systems. Indeed, part of life is learning to feel safe enough to
be in control of what we are doing, despite facing challenges; we feel safe
enough to take that driving test and face up to the challenges. In events like the
Olympics, many athletes will thank their family, friends, and trainers for all their
support and love. They demonstrate with absolute clarity that feeling safe,
supported, and encouraged by others can help us take on major challenges.
We can contrast safeness with safety seeking where people are motivated to
try to avoid bad things happening or to escape. If we are in flight mode, we try to
get away. This is really safety seeking and part of the threat system because our
attention is highly focused and our body is experiencing some kind of anxiety.
We might feel relief if we manage to get away from the perceived threat.
Safeness, however, has an open attention and explorative orientation to the
world that allows us to be more integrated in our thinking. In general, when we
feel safe, our emotions are neither excessively excited nor threat focused. When
we feel safe, we are more likely to be relaxed and we can play. This also can
create joyful relationships.37
The parts of our brain that support and enable attachment are also linked to
more general feelings of affiliation, empathy, and friendship.38 And so it is the
case that when we move out of our home environment, we may experience
school as being a pleasant environment and our peers as a source of connection
and support; or alternatively, we may find the environment to be unpleasant and
one in which we get bullied. This too will have a major impact on how we
develop our inner sense of safeness and our ability to be open to friendship and
to deal with conflicts. This is the basis of affiliation.39
Equally important, the way we have experienced other people relating to us
can have a major impact on how we relate to ourselves. You probably won’t be
surprised to learn that individuals who come from loving and caring
backgrounds tend to like themselves and feel worthy of being loved. In contrast,
people who come from more difficult backgrounds may find it hard to open up
to the love of others and can be very self-critical and even self-loathing. The
problem with being critical or disliking oneself is that it constantly stimulates the
threat system, which creates stress in our body and mind. Consequently, if the
soothing/affiliation system is not stimulated or developed, then our capacity for
being compassionate can become dormant. Practicing mindful compassion,
however, is specifically designed to stimulate those brain systems that foster a
sense of peacefulness, safeness, and contentment; and these qualities are so
important for offsetting tendencies toward self-criticism, anger, and self-
loathing.
We will come back to this later in this book, but the key point here is that our
brains are influenced in so many ways by kindness and compassion. From the
day we are born until the day we die, the friendliness and kindness of others will
have a huge impact on our brains and states of mind. There is absolutely no
getting away from the fact that humans are biologically designed to respond to
kindness; we have specific brain systems that are designed for giving and
receiving kindness. Although there are, of course, conditional factors, in that we
tend to feel more affection and kindness for those we are genetically related to or
part of our group, this shouldn’t detract from this fundamental design feature.
Affiliation is closely connected to a sense of community. In Buddhist
teaching, the three jewels of refuge are taking refuge in the Buddha; taking
refuge in the teaching; and taking refuge in the community. The concept of
community is therefore vital to our sense of safeness and calmness. In any work
environment, people are happiest when they have a sense of belonging and of
feeling supported, validated, valued, and appreciated by those around them. If
you look at people who take time off work due to stress (for example, in the UK,
especially those in the National Health Service), this is usually because these
qualities have been absent. Mindful compassion therefore is not about isolating
yourself in meditative practice but recognizing the importance of being part of a
community. Keep in mind, as we said above, that competitive materialistic
approaches to Western life, which are on the increase, seem to disrupt and
fragment people’s sense of community. This is a serious problem because it has
major implications for how our brains work and the degree to which we are able
to function optimally.40
There is another key element to affiliation, and this is that it builds courage.
Just as the attachment relationship between parent and child can encourage the
child to engage in things they might be fearful of, so can affiliative relationships
help us to face things that threaten us. Many people who have anxiety problems
and avoid doing things often “feel alone” when anxious, as if the two fuse
together. So if we ask someone who is having an anxiety attack, “Do you feel
alone right now or do you have a sense of connectedness and sharing with
others?”, they will typically respond, “I feel alone and separated from other
people.” It is this sense of aloneness that can seem fused with anxiety and can
make anxiety so difficult to face. But suppose people do not feel alone. If you
think about people in, say, a war situation, they will do extraordinarily
courageous and heroic things because they feel part of a team or that other
people need them; they don’t feel alone. When we feel supported and
understood, this really helps us build courage. This is important because
compassion provides the courage to face the things that we may not want to
face. For example, by becoming more self-compassionate, a person who is
agoraphobic may develop the courage to go out; or a shy person may develop the
courage to go to a party. So we develop courage often in the context of
affiliation, and feeling the connection with others really helps us to cope with
our fear.
In summary, there are a number of things we can say about the importance of
affiliative relationships:
They are the source of some of our greatest joys and feelings of
contentment but also the source of some of our fears and sense of
loneliness.
They involve both drive (taking pleasure and joy in relationships) and
soothing systems (feeling contentment in relationships).
They form the basis for feeling safe and have the power to calm us when
we are stressed and feeling threatened.
They enable us to feel safe enough to use our abilities to begin to think
about our own minds and the minds of others; that is, they are the basis
for empathy and the capacity for both inward and outward reflection.
They give meaning to life, and, indeed, working with and to help others
is one of the most meaningful activities that humans pursue.
Let’s take this knowledge and turn it into personal insight. We will stand back and reflect on
how these three emotional systems are actually working within us. Remember that all these
exercises are intended to be done with a sense of friendliness and curiosity, so if you find
yourself getting distressed by the exercise for any reason, then take a break.
Find a large piece of paper—a loose sheet or a notebook especially for this purpose will do
—and consider the three circles shown in figure 3.1, in chapter 3. Focus on each one for a
moment, reflecting where you spend most of your time and energy, and then draw circles for
yourself accordingly. So if most of your time is spent worrying and ruminating, then draw a
big circle for your threat system; and if you spend very little time feeling safe and contented,
then draw a small circle for the soothing system. Once you have done this, we can move on
to the second part of the exercise.
Let’s begin with the threat system. Think about the things in your daily life right now that can
trigger your threat system. It may be small things such as needing to get to work on time or
concerns about the traffic or completing a piece of work; or it might be something more
serious such as facing a divorce or a worrying health problem. Write these things down in
your circle. Think about how much of your time is spent in this emotional system and how
often these worries and concerns ripple through you. Over the next few days, more things
might occur to you, so you can write them down too. Note how thoughts and feelings from
this system can just pop into your mind.
Now pause for a bit and then focus on the things in your life that give you a sense of
pleasure and enjoyment: things you feel excited about and look forward to, positive things
that make you want get out of bed each day. This could be something you want to achieve
or it might be the thought of going on a holiday; it might be looking forward to coming home
to a nice meal, going to the movies, or doing a good piece of work. The key thing is the
experience of being energized by whatever it is you think of. How preoccupied are you by
things that excite you and give you a sense of purpose and direction? We could call these
energizers. Keep in mind, though, that some energizers can be threat focused: for example,
wanting to achieve things not for enjoyment of the thing in itself, but because you are
frightened that if you do not, then people might reject you. So, strictly speaking, they fall into
the threat-system rather than the drive-system circle. In your notebook or on your piece of
paper, make a note of how much time you spend in the drive system.
Now pause for a bit and then focus on the things in your life that give you a sense of slowing
down, chilling out, and being content, and allow you to feel a sense of well-being, of not
wanting to achieve anything or go anywhere because you are content with the way things
are right now. What things, activities, or relationships in your life foster this sense of feeling
safe, connected, and content? How much time do you spend in the soothing/affiliation
system?
When you have completed this task, stand back and think about which system you spend
most of your time in. Which system would you wish to cultivate more? It’s not unusual for
people to realize that they spend more time than they want to in the threat and/or drive
system, feeling stressed out, worrying, or rushing. Some people even start to feel a bit
anxious if they spend too much time in the soothing system! It’s as if the drive system kicks
in and makes them feel guilty about not doing or achieving something.
Another way you can do this exercise is simply to focus on specific parts of your life. You
could do it for your life at work or at home and notice how different places influence these
three systems differently.
It’s not that one system is intrinsically good and the other bad. Rather, it is
all about finding balance and seeing how they work together. For example,
David was feeling a little unwell and went to his doctor only to discover that he
had very high blood pressure. That’s a major threat. The consequence of this was
a recognition that he needed to de-stress and spend more time “slowing down
and chilling out.” So he became motivated to find ways to do that, for example,
by spending more time in his garden and learning to be more present in the
moment.
When Karen got depressed, she became aware that she spent most of her
time in the threat system ruminating, worrying, and being self-critical. Even the
things that she had previously enjoyed, such as going out with friends, became a
threat because they now made her feel anxious, so she tried to avoid doing them.
And she devoted no time at all to slowing down and focusing on things she
found she could enjoy. She certainly did not focus on how to generate kind
feelings for herself and others and she was highly self-critical. So Karen was
very out of balance. What helped her shift her focus was to understand how her
thoughts and behaviors were maintaining the threat system and how doing little
things that gave her pleasure helped her activate the other emotional systems.
Through gradually learning to shift the focus of her energies and address the
sources of the stress, she recovered.
The point of these stories is to show how it is not always easy to bring our
minds into balance in the culture we live in but that through learning to apply the
skills of mindful compassion (in part II), we can gradually bring them back into
balance.
Key Points
Emotions texture and color our minds. If we didn’t experience emotions,
life would be very gray. However, emotions are also the source of some
of our greatest difficulties because they can so easily to take control of
our minds.
From the day that we are born until the day we die, our relationships play
a fundamental role in our mental well-being, and they do so because they
give us access to the soothing/affiliation system.
Emergence of Compassion
One of the ideas conveyed in chapter 2 is that our motives help to organize our
minds. If we deliberately choose a motive like compassion to be the guiding
principle of our lives, this is going to organize what we pay attention to, and how
we think and behave. We have referred to this as a social mentality because
compassion, like other motives, can organize a variety of psychological abilities
and capacities, such as attention, feelings, and the way we think about ourselves
and others to achieve particular social outcomes and relationships.
So our basic motives, life goals, and the kind of person we want to become
are all hugely important in guiding and thus shaping our lives in very significant
ways. When we consciously place compassionate motives such as caring,
helping, encouraging, and supporting other people and ourselves at the center of
our lives, this can have far-reaching impact on how we relate to ourselves, other
people, and the world we are living in. This insight has been around for
thousands of years and is common to many religions. In the Mahayana Buddhist
tradition, compassion is seen as the fundamental agent of transformation that
allows us to shift from a life centered on self-focused concerns to one focused on
service to others. This is expressed in the classic Mahayana aspiration and
heartfelt desire for all beings to be free from suffering and the causes of
suffering, and in making the commitment to do whatever we can to bring this
about.1 This aspiration and commitment is referred to as bodhicitta.2
The Buddhist scholar Geshe Tashi Tsering speaks about the meaning of
bodhicitta in the following way:
What Is Compassion?
Fossils show that about one million years ago our ancestors evolved into a
species that looked after their old and diseased, as well as their young. This
means that they were using caring motives in thoughtful and reflective ways,
which is key to skillful compassion.4 However, the word “compassion” comes
originally from the Latin word compati, which means “to suffer with.” As we
will see, this is not such a helpful definition because the key to compassion as
we think of it today is not just suffering or even “suffering with,” but the
motivation to relieve it and acquire the skills to do so. When we begin to look at
the key qualities of compassion, science reveals a very hazy picture here.
In an effort to clarify the meaning of compassion, the American psychologist
Jennifer Goetz5 and her colleagues recently attempted a major review of the
meaning of the term “compassion” and its evolutionary origins and functions.6
Mostly, compassion is associated with words like “sympathy,” “empathy,” and
“kindness.” Compassion has also been linked (quite incorrectly) to pity in some
English dictionaries (and in some other languages as well), but compassion has
nothing to do with pity, as this involves a sense of feeling sorry for and looking
down on another person. So the word itself is tricky.
In the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, sadness can awaken compassion. In
some texts it is said that when the Buddha first emerged from his golden palace
and saw the suffering of the world, he was overcome by sadness and it was this
that created his commitment to try to do something about it. There are many
stories about how different bodhisattvas of compassion turn back to see and hear
the cries of the world and then are so moved by the cries of suffering that they
reenter the world of suffering again, to try to do something about it. It is actually
quite easy for us to connect with this inner sadness we carry. For example, try
this exercise for contacting your inner sadness. Of course, don’t do it to the point
of feeling overwhelmed, but rather just until you start to feel touched by
something that will awaken your own inner bodhicitta.
Exercise
Sit quietly and bring to mind some of the images you’ve seen on television. Remember that
right now many thousands of children are dying from lack of food and water, mothers are in
despair, many people are in pain or dying because of human violence and cruelty, and
many are dying in pain because of diseases.
It doesn’t take very long to let those images come to mind and to realize that although our
world has beauty in the sunsets, the snow-covered mountains against blue skies, the
forests, and the new flowers of spring, it’s also a world of immense suffering. We should not
be so dazzled by beauty that we forget suffering. However, if we only hold onto those
images, then eventually they can be draining and depressing.
Now sit for a moment but this time focus on all the wonderful charity work going on around
the world. Bring to mind images of people building wells for clean water, schools, and
hospitals, and developing new treatments for painful conditions. Imagine the joy that is
created when these come to fruition. Create in your mind images of individuals acting with
each other to relieve suffering and the pleasure that flows from doing that. Did you feel what
happened in you?
As Matthieu Ricard points out, while it’s important for us to open our minds
to suffering and not to hide away in our golden bubbles of personal satisfactions,
it is also important we generate positive feelings linked to loving-kindness (or
more accurately, friendly-kindness) and genuine wishes for the happiness of self
and others—that suffering and the sources of suffering cease (personal
communication, 2013). Compassion stimulates important motives and actions; it
is not about being sucked into the mud of suffering and then becoming stuck
there.
It is not about being overwhelmed by our inner sadness or wallowing in it.
This is not sadness as a sense of pity or sentimentality, but the sadness that
accompanies clear insight into the human condition; seeing things as they really
are. In addition to what is actually happening around us, we can also see how we
all go round and round making the same mistakes and creating suffering for
ourselves without necessarily meaning to. We can see how we are all caught in
the flow of life without exception, playing out the dramas of the brains that have
been designed for us, that give rise to the experiences of pain and loss. There is
also a close link between sadness and sympathy (one of the attributes of
compassion described below). By being open and attentive, we become
emotionally attuned to pain, loss, and suffering (you can develop a sympathetic
connection with it). So this aspect of compassion requires us to open our hearts
and be touched by the pain of life, and with this often comes sadness. The
important point is that if we just keep it personal, this can result in “poor me”
syndrome, but if we see how others are in a similar or perhaps even a worse
situation, this connects us to others, and is a powerful basis from which
compassion can arise. It is what Kristin Neff calls our “common humanity.”7
In psychotherapy, we also know that sometimes people are angry in order to
avoid being sad—some people find anger is easier than sadness, but it’s
recognizing and engaging with our sadness, then processing it so that
transformation can take place, that is important; strange as it may seem, sadness
can be very transforming and inspiring. It is sometimes said that it is our tears
that can water and give birth to the lotus of compassion from the mud of
suffering.
They go on to point out, “For most of Western history the dominant tradition
of kindness has been Christianity, which sacralizes people’s generous instincts
and makes them the basis of a universalist faith.”14 The edicts of “love thy
neighbor as thyself” and “turn the other cheek,” and the story of the “good
Samaritan,” are central to the Christian life. So Christianity was first and
foremost based on an appeal to kindness and compassion.
In addition, the last few thousand years have seen repeated philosophical and
spiritual appeals to recognize the importance of our interconnectedness and that
compassion is at the heart of a meaningful and happy life.15 When kindness and
compassion influence social and political discourse, the results can be dramatic
as shown in the nineteenth century. As Adam Phillips and Barbara Taylor point
out, this was a time when there was a major wave of humanitarian activism in
Britain and America. Many of the horrors of child neglect, slavery, and cruelty
to animals were openly debated and addressed, whereas before they had been
accepted as normal ways of life.16 The desire to “create a better life for all” was
the sentiment in the rebuilding, post–Second World War years. Though close to
bankruptcy, and with very little infrastructure, within fifteen years Britain had
built the National Health Service that was the envy of the world and many other
educational (such as school and university buildings) and support services for
the elderly and poor. The post-war politics of the time were to some degree
based on a “sensitivity to suffering and the desire to relieve it.” The suffering the
Second World War created was immense. However, such compassion has
arguably been gradually eroded by the politics of individualism,
competitiveness, and materialism. So now kindness is more likely to be seen as
“nice but for losers” and not affordable in the cut and thrust of competitive life.17
Such ideas have been taken up by the psychotherapists John Ballatt and
Penelope Campling in their important and fascinating book Intelligent Kindness,
which looks at kindness and health care provision.18 They offer a different
insight into kindness by pointing out that the word “kindness” is linked to
“kinship” (one of a kind) and that it grows particularly from a sense of
interconnectedness and interdependence with others. These concepts of kindness
capture many overlapping features with compassion. Whereas in Buddhism,
loving-kindness (or, more accurately, friendly-kindness) is bracketed together
and relates to the sense of feeling, the Western approach to kindness is more
encompassing than that.
Yet another approach to defining compassion and, specifically, self-
compassion, has been developed by Kristin Neff.19 She focuses on three major
dimensions:
motivation to nurture;
Nurturing, then, needs to be skillfully carried out. Paul also suggested that
these aspects can be self-directed as well as directed toward external people or
objects. The concept of self-nurturance preceded the concepts of compassion.22
So, our approach to compassion is influenced by Western psychological
concepts of compassion as well as Buddhist ones.
A further source of insight for the model we present has come from a number
of years of working with people who struggle with being able to nurture, be kind
to, or have compassion for themselves or others. These are blocks to the flow of
compassion, between self and others and within oneself (self-compassion). The
idea of overcoming blocks to the flow of compassion is also central to the
Mahayana Buddhist practices. It has become clear that people struggle with
compassion for different reasons. For example, some people are simply not
motivated to be caring, perhaps because they are too caught up in, say, anger or
fear, or because they are convinced that compassion is soft and weak. When it
comes to being open to compassion from others or self-compassionate, although
some people realize it would be helpful to them, they feel they don’t deserve it
or that it’s simply beyond their ability to develop.23 Some people are very
motivated to be caring and helpful, but they are not very empathic. They rush
into things rather than being thoughtful and reflective, and they tend to be
rescuers rather than helping the other person develop the qualities they need; or
they may become too distressed when they engage with other people’s distress
and end up tuning out.
Thus, the compassion circles were developed (1) by taking guidance from
the original Mahayana Buddhist traditions and teachings and the works in this
tradition; (2) through reference to current research on nurturance and altruism,
caring, and helping; and (3) by working with people who struggle with
compassion (especially self-compassion), and trying to identify where their
difficulties in developing compassion lie.24 We present compassion as two
circles to reflect that the various attributes and skills of compassion overlap,
work together, and enhance one another; it is not a linear process. Compassion is
a complex and multifaceted social mentality, and if any of its attributes or skills
are not working so well, then compassion as a whole can falter.
Source: P. Gilbert. 2009. The Compassionate Mind. London: Constable & Robinson.
The outer circle of skills, however, is related to the process by which we try
to alleviate suffering—the wisdom we bring to bear on what will be helpful and
effective in alleviating suffering.
Motivation
Sensitivity
Sympathy
Source: Adapted from P. Gilbert. 1989. Human Nature and Suffering. Hove: Psychology Press. Used
with permission.
Although there are debates about such distinctions, sympathy can be taken to
be our immediate emotional reaction, without conscious thought and reflection.
For example, a friend phones you up and tells you that her child has been killed
in a car crash or has a terrible illness. You’re immediately flushed with feelings
without thinking. Or, when you see a child playing happily and then he falls over
and hurts himself, you feel an immediate emotional wince at his sudden cry or
scream, which “hits” you in the stomach. We don’t need to think or reason to
feel an immediate sympathetic connection—it’s there straight away. But, like
many other aspects of compassion, sympathy is not necessarily helpful by itself
because sometimes we are simply overwhelmed by our feelings and we can’t
quite distinguish them from those going on in the other person. In this case, we
can lose a sense of perspective and rush in without thinking in a desperate effort
to turn off distress or even turn away from it because we can’t tolerate it; we
have too much personal distress.
BLOCKS TO SYMPATHY
Other problems with sympathy can arise because it gets blocked in certain
ways. For example, studies show that sympathy can be extremely painful and
takes its toll when it involves, for example, connecting to someone we love or
feel responsible for who is in pain and/or mentally ill.30 Another type of block
arises when we try to be emotionally attuned to suffering in an environment
that’s excessively demanding, for example, if we work somewhere that is short
staffed, punitive, bureaucratic, and nonsupportive. There have been various
reports about compassion failures in the National Health Service in the UK as a
result of these processes.31 Yet a different reason for dulling our capacity for
emotional attunement can be that we are brought up with a news media that
constantly focuses on death, disease, dying, humiliation, and shame but leaves us
feeling powerless to do anything about it—so we get angry, shrug, and switch
off. Add this to an entertainment industry that is constantly encouraging us to
take pleasure in seeing the bad guys get injured, mutilated, or killed, and it
would seem that we are constantly invited to turn off sympathy and be
emotionally unmoved by suffering.
Distress Tolerance
Empathy
UNHELPFUL EMPATHY
One question we are often asked is, Isn’t empathy the same as compassion;
or isn’t empathy always compassionate? We hope by now you see that the
answer is definitely no—empathy is a very important attribute of compassion,
but compassion is much more than just empathy. Not only that, but empathy can
be used in all kinds of noncompassionate ways. The worst torturer to have is an
empathic one. The nonempathic one puts the gun to your head, but the empathic
one puts it to your child’s head. Empathic advertisers know exactly how to
stimulate you to eat more than is healthy for you, and they care little about
putting your life at risk through obesity. Indeed, there is so much in the
commercialization and competitiveness of our modern world that is very
empathic but very destructive too. For example, politicians are constantly
working out how to get people to support them by relying on complex research
that studies how our brains react to certain messages.43 Consequently, without a
caring motive, empathy is of little use by itself and may even be very
destructive. Time and time again, then, we come back to the issue of motivation
and how we orient ourselves to become a certain kind of person, which requires
us to train our minds and not take compassion for granted.
Nonjudgment
Compassionate Attention
As we will see when we explore attention training in part II of this book, our
attention can be focused on anything we like—from our left foot to our right foot
to the ice cream we are about to eat to the TV program we’re watching. And
when you focus your attention on something in particular like this, other things
fade in the field of your awareness. We will do an exercise on this a little later
(see chapter 7). Compassionate attention is simply recognizing how you can
voluntarily direct your attention to themes that are helpful to you and others.
To illustrate the difference in attention focus between the inner circle of
attributes and the outer circle of skills, imagine a doctor coming to see an injured
patient. First, the doctor’s attention must be on the injury in order to make an
accurate diagnosis. The doctor will listen carefully to the story of what
happened, investigate the symptoms, and maybe prod here and feel there. The
doctor will become familiar with the pattern of symptoms and pains that are
being presented. This requires skillful attention and mindful engagement.
However, once this is done, the doctor does not stay focused on the injury but
switches attention and brings to mind what is needed to heal the person. At that
moment, the doctor’s attention changes and so do his or her feelings. So we need
one type of attention to become aware of the injury and then a different type of
attention to focus on its alleviation.
Here’s another example of these two types of attention. Remember the ten
shops we went into when we were doing our Christmas shopping where nine
people were kind to us and one person was unkind? Mindfulness enables us to
see how our attention is focused on the one unkind salesperson and how we
don’t see the other nine who were kind; it enables us to become familiar with
this fact. This opens up the possibility for compassionate attention in which we
now deliberately choose to bring to mind and focus our attention on the nine
salespeople who were helpful; we remember their facial expressions and what
they said, and we remember our joy as we left the shop with a nice present.
Now compassionate attention is not always about simply being accurate.
Aaron Beck, the originator of cognitive behavioral therapy, for example, once
pointed out that if you are on the third floor of a burning house and have to
climb down the drain pipe, it may be true that if you slip you could die. This is a
perfectly accurate thought, but it’s not very helpful to focus on it in this context!
What is more helpful is to focus on your grip and on your footing as you climb
down. So what we focus on can be extremely important, and it’s not always
about being accurate, but being mindful of what is helpful in that moment.
Compassionate Imagery
Compassionate Feelings
Compassionate Thinking
As we have said many times, our human new brain has the ability to think,
reflect, analyze, predict, imagine, anticipate, and plan. These are extraordinary
feats. The key question, though, is how do we use our powers of reasoning and
thinking? What motives do we pursue with these new brain skills? Do we let our
reasoning be dictated by whatever culture we find ourselves in, and so, in our
modern competitive culture, simply go along with how to get the competitive
edge and not worry about anybody else? Compassionate thinking is making the
decision, to the best of our ability, to reason compassionately. This involves first
mindfully standing back, slowing down, and observing what is going on in our
minds, and, second, thinking compassionately in a range of ways.49 In fact, a
whole approach to psychotherapy called cognitive behavioral therapy focuses on
ways of helpful thinking: how to keep things in perspective, treat yourself like
you would a friend, and check out the evidence for a particular worry or concern.
We can gently ask ourselves questions about how we would see this if we were
in a different state of mind, if we were at our most caring and compassionate,
our wisest and calmest. In our approach to compassion, these are very helpful
indeed.50
Compassionate thinking has to work against our natural biases in thinking.
We know that when we are threatened or when we are in high drive states, our
thinking and reasoning can become very biased. For example, when we have an
argument with somebody, our angry self can come up with all the reasons why
we should be critical or attack the other person. If we are experiencing anxiety,
our thoughts can make us even more anxious: “Oh my gosh, what happens if I
have a heart attack or this person rejects me or I make a mistake?… I will never
get over it. It will be a disaster,” and so on. The way we think, reason, and
ruminate about things can have a big impact on whether we pour gasoline on the
fires of our threat system or learn to calm it down. Indeed, certain types of
rumination are well known to lock us into stress and suffering. Compassionate
thinking is an antidote to this.
Compassionate Courage
Compassionate behavior relates to the inner and outer circles in different
ways. One of the most important qualities of compassionate behavior is courage
because without it, no matter how empathic or motivated we are, it could be
difficult to follow through with a course of action. For example, the fireman who
rushes into the burning house and risks his life to save a baby is showing
compassionate courage. Another example might be the thousands of people who
put themselves and their families at risk to save Jewish people during the Second
World War.51 What is interesting here is that some of these individuals were not
necessarily overly kind or tender, and some may have been quite autocratic, yet
their behavior could be seen as little other than compassionate because it was
based on the motivation to alleviate and prevent suffering.
So the outer circle is different from the inner circle in that you can get
different elements operating independently—compassionate behavior without
compassionate feeling, for example. This is important because both Buddhist
practice and modern psychology suggest that behavior often comes first. If we
learn to behave in a way that will help ourselves and others flourish, then even if
we don’t have a deeply compassionate feeling about this, it is still a very
important path to compassion and gradually feelings may follow.
When it comes to helping people develop courage we use the term “en-
couragement” and this requires a degree of empathy. For example, there are
times when we would rather avoid difficult things, but the encouragement of
others—and sometimes even the pressure they put on us—helps us jump over an
obstacle. So we can recognize then that compassionate behavior can take
different forms. In the case of an agoraphobic, compassionate behavior might
involve going to the front door with her and then seeing how far she can get,
while learning to be kind, supportive, and validating with every step forward
when anxiety starts to kick in. Compassionate behavior isn’t soothing yourself
by sitting on the couch eating chocolates and watching TV; it’s not about having
a relaxing warm bath. Compassionate behavior is focused with intention and
purpose. A compassionate therapist may even be quite “pushy” when trying to
help the patient overcome his reluctance to face, experience, and learn to tolerate
his anxiety or other avoided things. With children too we sometimes have to help
them face their fears even when they don’t want to. Compassion is not the same
as never upsetting anybody or being “nice” all the time. Sometimes people might
not like you when you encourage them to face things.
The Christian story is ultimately one of courage. Whether or not you believe
Jesus was the son of God, the idea of dying in that way to save humanity can
only be seen as extraordinary courage—and indeed it is the call to courage, to
stand up for the poor, the sick, and the suffering, which is at the heart of
Christian compassionate values. Sadly, some politicians can turn that on its head,
with rather little interest in providing for the sick or the poor and with more
interest in personal advancement, and claim the latter as Christian ethics.52 In the
Mahayana Buddhist tradition, too, courage, or fierce compassion, is one of the
key attributes of the bodhisattva, or spiritual warrior, who embodies the
compassionate ideal, able to tolerate his or her own fear in order to face the pain
and difficulties of life, and who may put his or her own safety at risk in order to
alleviate the suffering of others.
COMPASSIONATE KINDNESS
Kindness has had a checkered but very important history.53 It can be seen as
an emotion, motive, or action. Doing kind things that bring happiness to others
has long been recognized as being helpful to ourselves too. Indeed, some recent
approaches to happiness involve doing random acts of kindness for somebody
each day. Kindness may not require any courage at all, and it can be pleasurable
to do (such as buying someone a birthday present or going next door to cut an
elderly neighbor’s lawn). It can be associated with feeling good about ourselves,
and for this reason many psychologists recommend it precisely because it has
positive effects on our own moods and emotions. In this sense it can be seen as
having a selfish component. In fact, the Dalai Lama often says that the best form
of selfishness (i.e., the one that brings the highest dividend to oneself) is being
kind to others. Simply put, if you spread sunshine to others, it can brighten you
up too.
The idea that somehow our compassionate behavior should give us no
positive feedback is simply wrong. Not only do we experience other people’s
gratitude, but more importantly we are stimulating brain systems that can be
good for us. Even if we dismiss gratitude, we can’t ignore the fact that acting
compassionately affects our brain. On the other hand, if we engage in
compassion only because we want to be liked and be seen as nice, or if we are
acting out of submissiveness, then our motivation is not really compassionate
and therefore it may not have the same impact. Paul is currently researching this.
So, what determines compassionate behavior in any given situation can
sometimes be tricky, and for this we need wisdom to recognize that many of our
motives and behaviors are actually mixes and blends—some will be conscious to
us, others will not. Nonetheless, we can still spend time openly reflecting on
what compassionate behavior in any particular situation might be and we can
pose ourselves the question: “What is the compassionate thing to do in this
situation?” By slowing down and reflecting, we can access our inner wisdom.
The problem is that people simply don’t stop and ask themselves the question!
Sometimes compassionate behavior will require courage, other times kindness,
and often both.
Figure 4.3 Building the compassionate mind for engaging in the suffering and the causes of suffering
We will look at some of these blocks to compassion in chapter 6. But, once
rooted in the soothing/affiliation system, the qualities for engaging with
suffering can spring forth from appropriate soil and so too feelings of joy at the
prospect of alleviating suffering.
So these two psychologies support each other and are underpinned by the
important emotional systems we discussed in chapter 3.
Key Points
Compassion arises from deep insight into how things really are. In
Buddhism, this is the Four Noble Truths. In the evolutionary model, it is
seeing how we all just find ourselves here, created from our genes and
social conditioning, with an evolved brain that has all kinds of problems.
Insight into the nature of suffering and being in contact with it stimulates
motivation to do something about it.
Compassion “as lived and enacted” has two key psychologies: (1) the
psychology of engagement (inner circle of attributes)—the ability to
open to, understand, and tolerate suffering; and (2) the psychology of
alleviation and prevention (outer circle of skills)—the skills of knowing
how to alleviate suffering and uproot its causes.
The Buddhist monk Matthieu Ricard points out that if we only stay with
our experience of suffering (the inner-circle attributes, especially
sympathy and empathy), it can become unbearable. What is necessary is
to focus on the path of alleviation and prevention of suffering, which are
the skills of compassion.
Buddhist approaches also link the ending of suffering with a desire for
happiness, that all beings have happiness and well-being. Hence
compassion has a positive motivational focus as well.
Being loved and being loving is one of the surest ways to happiness.
Definitions
We need to say from the outset that mindfulness is not an area without
controversy, and there are now important and fascinating debates in this area.
We look at the practice of mindfulness in the next chapter, but here we can
briefly note that there are different definitions of mindfulness. In fact, the whole
history of mindfulness over hundreds of years is itself not without debate and
controversy.1 One of the Western world’s most renowned mindfulness teachers,
Jon Kabat-Zinn, defines mindfulness as “the awareness that emerges through
paying attention on purpose in the present moment, and nonjudgmentally, to the
unfolding of experience moment-by-moment.”2 Another mindfulness teacher,
Ronald Siegel, has a somewhat simpler definition of mindfulness as “awareness
of present experience with acceptance,”3 while Rob Nairn says, “Mindfulness is
knowing what is happening while it is happening no matter what it is.” 4
The theme of nonjudgment is important to all definitions because judging as
good or bad can set us into loops between the old-brain and the new-brain
processes (see chapter 2)—we start trying to push “that” thought or feeling
away, or make “this” thought or feeling happen more. Mindfulness helps us
cultivate a particular type of attention and awareness and to become a skillful
observer of what’s going on in this tricky mind of ours. In this way we are less
likely to get caught up in three types of problem: (1) attention hopping—where
our mind wanders all over the place like a butterfly, alighting on whatever object
of the senses it happens to find; (2) rumination and brooding—where our mind
gets stuck in a loop, going round and round specific themes that are often
negative and a source of depression and anxiety; (3) emotional avoidance—
where we try to block out of conscious awareness the things that are very painful
or don’t fit with how we see ourselves.
Present-Moment Awareness
People often get into mindfulness because they are trying to cope with some
personal distress or even mental health difficulties; but importantly, Jon Kabat-
Zinn tells us that mindfulness is not just a technique—it is a way of being. For
this reason a key element of mindfulness is to remember to be mindful. It’s to
remember to be fully present in our lives as we live them, as well as during a
formal daily practice.
One of the Buddha’s great insights was that in becoming more aware of how
our mind bobs about like a cork on a stormy sea, we can begin to settle it and
learn to rest in present-moment awareness. We get a sense of how distracted our
attention is when we start mindfulness practice (see chapter 7). At first, holding
our attention on the breath can seem as tricky as grasping for the soap in a bath.
Many of us will also be familiar with our lack of mindful attention to what we
are actually doing because we have had experiences of driving home and not
really remembering the drive because we were thinking about 101 other things.
However, reflect on this key issue: Where do you actually exist? It can only
be in this present moment. Although we only exist right here and right now
(neither in the moment to come nor in the moment just gone), our attention and
focus are seldom here. Most of the time our mind is off planning, anticipating,
ruminating, problem-solving, regretting, hoping, or just daydreaming, that is,
caught up in new-brain hustle and bustle!
Mindfulness brings us back to the present moment and to a simple awareness
of our physical senses.5 At a deeper level it helps us begin to separate the mind
that is “simply aware” from the contents of experience that are constantly
flowing through it. In his lectures and at retreats Matthieu Ricard likes to say
that consciousness is like water. It can contain a poison or medicine but it is not
the poison or medicine; it is pure unto itself. A mirror can reflect many things
but is not the things it reflects. Similarly, our mind can be filled with many
different emotions and thoughts that pass through it moment by moment, but
none of them affect the quality of this “right now and only now” awareness that
remains changeless and pure. Many clouds pass across the sky but the sky itself
remains constant. At its deepest level, mindfulness is a way of becoming more
aware of the passing clouds and learning to rest in a sky-like awareness.
Default-Mode Network
Secular Mindfulness
Over the last forty years there has been growing interest in the West in the
benefits and effectiveness of mindfulness, especially in relation to physical and
mental health problems. What is interesting is that an entire discipline is
emerging around the practice of mindfulness that is secular and somewhat
divorced from its Buddhist roots.10 There is no doubt that this emerging tradition
has been hugely beneficial to many people because it has offered a set of tools
for working with the mind in a very direct and immediate way.
A prominent pioneer in this respect is Jon Kabat-Zinn, whose application of
mindfulness in dealing with chronic pain has evolved into a highly successful
eight-week program called Mindfulness-Based Stress Reduction (MBSR). This
program has been well researched, and there is now a good evidence base for its
efficacy in dealing with stress, boosting our immune system,11 and even
influencing how our brains work.12 An application of mindfulness for preventing
relapse in depression called Mindfulness-Based Cognitive Therapy (MBCT) also
has well-established benefits.13 So mindfulness practice is making increasing
contributions to education, therapy, and health care throughout the West.
However, we need to bear in mind where mindfulness comes from and the
fact that it has always been charged with ethical values and linked to a higher
vision of wisdom and compassion. And so, in applying the ancient wisdom of
Buddhism for the West, we need to be careful not to lose this basic foundation.
This is a theme we explore now and return to in the next chapter.
Simply being very aware is not necessarily virtuous in itself. One could
be vividly aware yet doing horrible things and enjoying them. Therefore,
the essential characteristic of this Buddhist awareness is to be aware of
whether or not one is being mindful of noble purpose. Put another way, it
is helping us to live to our highest ethical standards and not “turn a blind
eye” to the more negative habits. …15
This important statement directs our attention to the central issue of shame that
can so haunt and destroy humans, as we’ll see shortly. So there needs to be clear
development of compassionate motives and clarity as to why we are engaging in
mindfulness practices, for example, by engendering the commitment of
bodhicitta, which is the commitment to understand one’s own mind with
compassion in order to be helpful to others.
Some people are very resistant and even fearful of experiencing mindfulness
and compassion and the deeper levels of connectedness that this can involve.
The reasons for this are complex. Many of us carry emotional wounds in our
minds and bodies that originated in our relationships with others—maybe as far
back as childhood. The problem is that mindfulness meditation can begin to lift
the lid on painful and unprocessed emotions (see Choden’s own experience in
the chapter 6 section “Descent: Choden’s Personal Journey”). If there is little
ability to experience or tolerate affiliative, soothing emotions that can soften our
threat system (see chapter 3), there may be little ability to contain our emerging
inner experiences in compassionate, warm, and receptive ways. If we are living
in an inner world of self-criticism and self-dislike, mindfulness can become very
tricky indeed.20 What becomes helpful in this instance is to develop the
compassion circles (chapter 4); this builds the capacity to contain and transform
what mindfulness brings forth. Therefore, we can see how mindfulness practice
can be undermined if people become too overwhelmed with threats and losses—
some of which may be rooted in their unprocessed past emotions—because the
soothing/affiliation system is inaccessible to them or is itself associated with
painful feelings.
Mindfulness and Shame
Things can get even more tricky. Part of the mindfulness process is
acceptance and nonjudgment of the present moment; to “simply accept” what
comes up.22 So we might well try to “accept” what is going on within us, and yet
it might become another strategy of our subliminal preference and judging
system. We might say to ourselves, “Okay, let’s try another route; let’s try to
acknowledge the difficult feelings that are arising; let’s allow them to be there
and notice where we feel them in the body.” However, we don’t really
appreciate how complex and entangled these feelings can be with their mixture
of anger, anxiety, sadness, and doubt all fused together (see chapter 3). And so in
the back of our mind there is the secret hope that if we “accept” these difficult
feelings of shame, loss, and yearning, they will go away and we will be at peace
again; we will become lovable, and then we can practice the real mindfulness.
Without a compassionate holding, however, acceptance becomes tough. Shame
is one of the biggest impediments to acceptance because we want change, to find
a way of feeling acceptable, lovable, and connected. However, the sense of not
being okay and not acceptable remains firmly in place because we have not
attended to the real issue, which is the wounding of our soothing/affiliation
system and our deep yearning to feel loved and connected to others.23
Mindfulness and Aloneness
Getting closer to the “still mind” is often the subtle gold we think we are
looking for, and we may find ourselves monitoring our practice closely to see if
we are approaching our benchmark. We can sense this subtle process of striving
happening when people talk about having a “good” meditation as opposed to a
“bad” one, even though the key instruction is to be aware of the flow of our
thoughts and emotions in a nonjudgmental way. Someone might say, “That
practice session was awful—my mind was all over the place” or “My mind was
really centered today—my practice seems to be going well.” So what we find
happening is that the practice of mindfulness can gradually be undermined by
our threat and drive systems that are monitoring our practice and making
judgments like “This is good or that is bad.”
We might not even realize that we have fallen under the power of these brain
systems, but the effect is that they can take us away from the open quality of
being that is associated with the soothing/affiliation system.
The key issue here is that monitoring our practice according to whether it is a
“good practice” or results in a “still mind” automatically generates resistance to
those experiences that fall into the other extreme and threaten to overturn the
apple cart. It is like a boatman who sails his boat around the harbor relishing the
calm water and admiring the gentleness of the breeze but is terrified to venture
into the deep seas for fear of capsizing and drowning. This is understandable for
those of us who have experienced abuse, neglect, feelings of rejection, or major
losses because staying present with these experiences can be very tough indeed;
and this is especially the case if they’re not contained in a compassionate way or
if we are trying to go it alone. But the deep sea can be flat and beautiful as well
as stormy and treacherous, and our ability to sail safely through storms can
greatly extend the range of what we can explore and come to know.
In this way, the practice of mindfulness meditation can become a way of
seeking calmness and stillness rather than familiarity, understanding, and insight.
While our boatman rather likes the calm waters of the harbor, in fact, what he
needs is to learn to sail on the open seas. This is the dilemma that is central to
the integration of compassion with mindfulness. Compassion enables us to stay
afloat on the turbulence of the open sea, while mindfulness is the way in which
we skillfully navigate the sea.
Key Points
Mindfulness is a skill that involves paying attention to the present
moment on purpose and without judgment.
What our attention focuses on will stimulate very different brain systems
and emotions.
It is not our fault that our minds get pulled away from the present
moment in the ways they do. This is to do with the evolution of our new-
brain capacities and how our minds have developed from our life
experiences.
So what did we find? First, there was a tendency for people fearful of one
form of compassion to be fearful of others. Second, if people were frightened
about other people being compassionate to them, they also had difficulties with
being compassionate to themselves. Now just reflect for a moment about living
in a world where we find it very difficult to let in love and compassion from
people around us and where we are not compassionate or kind to ourselves at all.
If we dislike or even hate parts of our self due to shame (see “The Shamed Self”
in chapter 2), think about what’s going on in our minds on a day-by-day basis.
The soothing/affiliation system is going to have very little stimulation, while the
threat system will have lots. Yet if we don’t stimulate the soothing/affiliation
system, then how will it function in our brains when we need it to? Research has
shown repeatedly that we need to stimulate different brain systems to help them
develop.
If we cut ourselves off from compassion, we’re going to starve our
soothing/affiliation system, and it won’t be available to us when we need it.
Indeed, our research shows that fears of compassion make us much more
vulnerable to depression, anxiety, and stress. In addition, people who have these
fears also tend to be self-critical—and you can see why. They can’t afford to
make mistakes because they don’t have any way of calming and soothing
themselves if they do but typically feel frightened or angry and launch into self-
criticism instead.7 Effectively, they live on a knife edge.
Fear of Happiness
We also know that some people are anxious about having any positive feelings
at all and even fear being happy. There can be a puritan taboo surrounding
pleasure that derives from feelings of fear and guilt. Many books now focus on
how to be happy, but few of us have really thought about the fact that many
people are surprisingly frightened of happiness. Once again, it is Paul’s patients
who have been his best teachers, and he simply turned some of the fears of
happiness they talked about into questions to see how common these fears are
and how they relate to states like depression. In the course of the research
previously mentioned, we asked people how much they agreed with statements
like “I am frightened to let myself become too happy”; “I worry that if I feel
good, something bad may happen”; “I feel I don’t deserve to be happy.”
When we did the study with students, we were surprised to find that this fear
was very highly associated with depression, anxiety, and stress. In other words,
people who are vulnerable to depression may well have fears of happiness; they
struggle to allow themselves to feel happiness, and when they do feel it, they can
become anxious. One of Paul’s patients noted that “It’s when I feel happy and
think things are going well that ideas come into my mind about what would
happen if my husband or one of my children died or something went wrong.
When I am depressed, I don’t think about these things so much.” Happiness
reminded her of life’s fragilities.
Feeling undeserving of happiness can be common to and can arise in families
where a parent is ill. Karen’s mother was divorced and had a number of physical
conditions, which meant she couldn’t get out much. When Karen was a teenager
she recalls “never really feeling okay with going out and having fun because I
would always be worrying if Mum was okay and feeling guilty that I was out
having fun and had left her at home alone.”
Mindful compassion allows us to acknowledge these thoughts without
blaming and shaming, to see them as understandable and often linked to social
backgrounds in which life was difficult and happiness fairly short lived. In these
cases we are living with the programming of our pasts. It’s not surprising then
that people stay depressed if they are constantly blocking off their ability to
experience positive feelings, and it’s not surprising that eventually their positive
feeling systems will take a nose dive.
Emotional Memory
One of the reasons people can run into fears and unpleasant experiences when
they try to be compassionate is because when they begin to touch these
emotions, they trigger their emotional memory. How does it work? At one level
it’s very simple. For example, imagine that when you were young, you were
bitten by a black dog. Later in life you’re walking home and out jumps a black
dog. Your body memory causes your body to be flushed with anxiety—there is
no thought, just that the moment you see it, your body’s memory activates the
anxiety system. So all of us know we physiologically react to things that have
had meaning for us in the past. Interestingly, though, nice feelings can be turned
into unpleasant ones. Imagine this: you love cheesecakes, and when you see
them, you get a warm feeling of anticipation and imagine how lovely they are
going to taste when you eat them. But then one day you have a cheesecake, and
it makes you seriously ill. Okay, so what happens to those lovely warm feelings
toward cheesecakes when you next smell one? They’ve gone, and in their place
are feelings of nausea and dread. Even if you still want to enjoy eating
cheesecakes, your body will remember how you got sick. You can’t help how
you feel—you have been conditioned. And those feelings of nausea will override
your conscious wishes and thoughts—that’s the key point. In time, you might
desensitize these aversive feelings and get back to your love of cheesecakes, but
not immediately; and this will definitely not happen if you now avoid the
aversive feelings.
So our emotions can be linked and conditioned to other emotions—positive
feelings can become triggers for negative feelings. Here’s another example:
Sally’s mother was agoraphobic, often depressed, and at times volatile. Sally
could remember many times when she looked forward to going out, and one
time in particular she was excited about going to see Santa Claus. Sadly, at the
last moment her mother had a panic attack, collapsed into tears, and said she
couldn’t go. And to make matters worse, her father was in the house and became
really annoyed with his wife, and the atmosphere “turned horrible.” Sally
described how, if she ever felt excited about something, it often turned out badly
like this. So now she tries not to feel too good about things, because in the back
of her mind—her emotional memory—there is always the feeling that something
bad will happen or something will go wrong. In fact, she notices that when times
with the possibility of having fun come around, like Christmas, she becomes
uneasy. You can see how that’s understandably rooted in her emotional memory
system. You can see too how different types of emotion are fused together here,
such as anger and sadness.
Psychology of Avoidance
As the Buddha said right at the outset, we live our lives as if we are
sleepwalking, with a lack of awareness about the reality and causes of suffering
within us and all around us. We distract ourselves almost all the time until
something stops us in our tracks. Cancer, loss, distress, decay, and death can turn
up even if we have six houses, twelve cars, three bicycles, and a pair of roller
skates!
Thus far we have been exploring the fears and resistances to compassion at
both an individual and cultural level. Once we understand that avoidance is part
of us all to a greater or lesser extent, then we can be mindful of it and work with
it in a compassionate way. Compassion allows us to begin to face up to the
realities of life on this planet, and have empathy for ourselves, our emotions, and
the ways our lives have been shaped in different social contexts. Compassion
opens our minds to facing things as they are and taking responsibility—the very
opposite of avoidance.
But suppose we are definitely not into avoidance, but quite the opposite in
fact—very much motivated to be compassionate and save the world. Can that
run us into trouble? Well, in fact, it can, as the story of Chenrezig will show us.
For me, coming to understand these experiences and how this can happen to
other people and how we can help them has been the focus for my journey ever
since. For Paul, too, in his early twenties, his own depression become a source
for study and understanding the nature of the depressed mind.16
I am sharing this experience with you because it has significantly influenced
my life and deepened my understanding of the mind and what we can go
through. It was an extreme and intense experience because I had completely
dedicated myself to that way of life. By no means am I suggesting that everyone
needs to go through something similar to benefit from the path of mindful
compassion! In fact, what I have learnt from this experience is that a more gentle
and gradual path is more appropriate for most people.
Key Points
Both mindfulness and compassion are vital to the process of growth and
transformation; but, while mindfulness is the servant of the awakening
heart of compassion, it is the force of compassionate motivations that
reorganizes the mind and sets in motion lasting change.
Reflection
What is my motivation?
How do I want this to benefit the people that are close to me and in the
world?
Mindfulness Practice
Recognizing the Unsettled Mind
Mindfulness is the deliberate intention to observe the activity of the mind in a
nonjudgmental way—to step back and notice whatever arises in the mind
without reacting to it.1 The starting point for mindfulness is simply noticing what
is happening in our minds right now.
Let’s begin by doing a simple exercise.
Sit comfortably with your back straight. For a beginner, a straight-backed chair is probably
best. It’s not advisable to sink into a luxurious easy chair because you might fall asleep.
Once you are sitting comfortably, simply relax, with your eyes open if possible, and
experience being where you are. Feel the pressure of your body resting on the seat and
ground; become aware of the space around you; notice how you naturally become aware of
sights, sounds, and other sensory stimuli—perhaps the smell of cooking wafts in from next
door or maybe a breeze brushes your skin.
So this practice is very simple: just allow yourself to be present, experiencing whatever
happens when you sit and do nothing. Decide to sit and do nothing. Let your mind rest in
the present moment, and simply be aware of where you are right now.
In a surprisingly short time you may find that you are thinking about something, even though
you had decided to do nothing other than notice what occurs in your senses in this moment.
When you realize you are “thinking,” simply bring your attention back to being “here,” doing
nothing, just observing. Once again, before you know it, you may have drifted off into
random thoughts, worries, daydreams, or ruminations. So once again, when you realize
this, kindly and gently bring your attention back to being here, doing nothing.
Sit comfortably and focus on your right foot. Explore the sensations in your toes, then your
heel, and then your whole foot. Hold your attention there for about ten seconds or so. Now
switch your attention to your left foot. Again, explore the sensations in your toes, then your
heel, and your whole foot. Hold your attention there for ten seconds or so. Now focus on
your right hand. Notice the sensations in your fingers and your thumb. Again, hold that
attention for about ten seconds. Next, focus on your left hand and hold your attention there
for about ten seconds. Finally, focus your attention on your lips and the sensations around
your mouth.
What did you notice? Consider that when you focus on your left foot, you
are not aware of your fingers or your lips, and when you refocus your attention
on your fingers, the awareness of your feet disappears. What you focus your
attention on in your body expands in your field of awareness. It is as if your
attention is like a zoom lens or magnifying glass, a spotlight illuminating some
things but leaving others in the dark. Notice too that your attention is not fixed;
you can actually move it around deliberately and, when you do, different
sensations flow in and out of your consciousness.
Let’s look at this in terms of our emotions and feelings. As you’re sitting,
stop reading this book and bring to mind a time when you were laughing—
maybe somebody told you a joke or you were at a party. Hold that memory in
your mind and become aware of yourself laughing with your friends. Now notice
what happens in your body; perhaps your face begins to smile a little. What you
are bringing to mind and what your attention is drawing into the foreground are
affecting you in powerful ways.
Having seen how you can bring to mind and focus on a happy thought,
image, or memory, and how that made you feel a certain way, now refocus your
attention and bring to mind something that you are a bit anxious about or
something that has made you a little unhappy. Let your attention bring those
thoughts or images into the foreground. Notice what happens to the feelings and
the sensations in your body when your attention zooms in on these things and
brings them into the forefront of your mind. You probably don’t feel like
laughing now. The point is that when you bring this memory or thought into
your field of attention, the good feelings you experienced just moments before
fade away. This demonstrates to us that what our attention focuses on within our
own memory systems powerfully influences our feelings and sensations. Once
you really understand the power of your attention to stimulate your body, then
the value of learning to be more in control of this attention, this spotlight, or this
magnifying glass becomes very clear. And sometimes it is helpful to switch
attention to a more helpful focus such as compassionate images of self and
others.
The purpose of this exercise is to help us recognize these things:
Attention acts like a zoom lens, making some things bigger in our minds
and blocking out other thoughts and feelings.
Once we begin to notice how easily our attention is captured by our emotions
without us even realizing it, we can then learn to train our minds so that our
attention brings into the foreground ideas, images, or ways of thinking that are
going to be helpful to us rather than letting our attention drift around in a sea of
anxiety or negative rumination. We simply need to pay attention. In fact,
although it is simple, it is not so easy: our tendency to become easily distracted
is powerfully ingrained, and therefore we need to engage in a sustained program
of mind training.
Something important to note is that mindfulness training is not about
avoiding unhappy emotions or always focusing on happy experiences. It is also
about learning how to tolerate, accept, and work with difficult emotions too.
These emotions are part of our experience, and often they have important
messages for us if we listen and pay attention to them. However, it’s also useful
to recognize when we are caught up in emotions and ruminations that are not
helpful so we can learn to refocus our attention on just observing them as
opposed to getting caught up in the storyline that they weave.
Sit comfortably with both feet flat on the floor about a shoulder width apart and with your
back straight. Your posture is comfortable but upright because the idea is to be both relaxed
and alert rather than becoming sleepy, which can happen if your head drops forward.
Gently, close your eyes or allow your gaze to fall unfocused on the floor. Create a gentle
facial expression, an expression of friendliness, as if you are with somebody you like. Try
relaxing your facial muscles by letting your jaw drop slightly, and then let your mouth turn up
into a slight smile.
Now focus on your breathing, on the air coming in through your nose and down into your
diaphragm, staying a short while, and then moving back out through your nose. Notice how
your diaphragm moves gently as you breathe in and out. For the development of a soothing
breathing rhythm, you will breathe slightly more slowly and slightly more deeply than you
would normally. The in-breath is about three to five seconds, and then you pause
momentarily and take three to five seconds for the out-breath. You might try to breathe a
little faster and then a little slower until you find a breathing pattern that is comfortable for
you and has a gentle rhythm to it, giving you the feeling of slowing down. The slow
comfortable rhythm of the breath is key. Five to six breaths per minute is ideal but only if
comfortable.
Also focus on the out-breath and the air leaving your nose with a steady rhythm. Try to
ensure that the in-breath and the out-breath are even, and don’t rush them. As you develop
your breathing rhythm, notice the feeling of inner slowing with each out-breath. Notice how
your body responds to your breathing, as if you are linking up with a rhythm within your
body that is soothing and calming for you. Notice how this links to your friendly facial
expression. Notice how you might feel heavier as you sit, more solid, and still in your body.
You may find that thoughts pop into your mind, which is totally okay and natural. Don’t worry
about it. You are not attempting to get rid of thoughts or make your mind go blank. You are,
in fact, not doing anything besides focusing on the soothing breathing rhythm and not
becoming involved with the thoughts that pop into your mind. You let them go free without
attempting to suppress or become involved with them.
So it is perfectly okay for your mind to wander. Simply notice it happening and then gently
guide your attention back to an awareness of your body and breathing, sensing the flow of
air coming in and out of your nostrils—feeling your body slowing down. If you find that
regulating and deepening your breathing is making you feel tense or a bit panicky, then
focus instead on the grounding section of the sitting practice (exercise 6).
Now once again, check on your friendly facial expression, the gentle smile, and then
continue to experience your soothing breathing rhythm. Tune in to the feeling of slowing
down. Stay with this process for a few minutes, breathing slightly deeper than you would
normally. When you are ready, open your eyes and if you’re not going to engage with any
further practices, stretch and move your body. (See http://www.coherence.com for more
resources relating to breath practice.)
Suppose you’re going to eat an apple. How would you do this mindfully? First, you could
look at the apple and notice its color and texture. Hold it in your hand and feel the quality of
its skin. Don’t rush; spend time just observing it. When your mind wanders from your focus
on the apple (as it likely will), gently bring your attention back to it. In this exercise you’re not
judging the apple; you’re simply exploring its properties. Then, take a knife and peel it or cut
into it. Once again, notice the effect this has on the apple; notice the color and texture of the
fruit beneath the skin. Take time to really observe it.
Next, take a bite of the apple. Now focus on your sense of taste and what the apple feels
like in your mouth. Chew it slowly, feeling the texture in your mouth, noticing how the juice is
stimulating your salivary glands and how the saliva feels in your mouth. Savor the taste. As
you chew, notice how the apple becomes mushier. As you swallow, pay attention to the
sensations of swallowing.
In this way, you have explored the apple visually, by touch and feel, by smell, by texture,
and by taste. If you had dropped the apple, you would have been able to hear what it
sounded like—but you don’t need to do that today!
Reflection Afterward
Body Scan
This is a practice of progressively moving our attention through the different
parts of our body, from our feet up to our head, and then back down to our feet
again.5 When we do this practice, we bring the same quality of curiosity and
attention to our body as we did when we mindfully ate an apple. We gently
explore the different parts of our body and become aware of the rich texture of
sensations that arise and subside. In doing this practice, we build on the skills we
have already developed: we slow down, notice where our attention is, bring it
back to the body scan, and then move our attention through our body, opening
up to and experiencing the different sensations as they arise.
We notice how the body is a complex field of energy and sensation. The
practice involves precise awareness of particular body parts, the sensations on
the surface of the skin, the feelings inside the body (including sensations of body
organs and bones), and the movement of the breath through the body. We may
notice sensations of discomfort, feelings of intensity, or sensations that are very
subtle and fleeting. We may also become aware of emotional reactions, thoughts,
or stories associated with different body parts. The body carries our personal
histories, and our relationship to our body can be complicated.
We may start to notice more about the different ways in which we pay
attention and the different qualities of awareness that are possible. We discover
how our attention can be very flexible. At one moment, we are paying detailed
attention to a small body part, such as our big toe. At other moments, we are
holding larger areas of the body in our awareness, such as both of our legs from
the ankles to the hips. We may start to notice the differences in experience if we
are holding a mental image of the body in our mind’s eye (what we think our left
arm looks like), or if we are just experiencing the pure sensations themselves.
Through this practice, we may start to notice much about the habits of our
mind. We will find ourselves often getting distracted, but when we do, we can
simply acknowledge this and invite our attention back to the practice over and
over again. We may notice that the mind does not really want to be present a lot
of the time and we may even find that we fall asleep. Sleepiness is very common
when people start with this practice. Perhaps we are just very tired, and we really
notice this when we stop all of our activity for a while. It may also seem strange
at first to practice wakefulness in this lying-down position.
Find a comfortable place to lie down, on the bed or on the floor, remembering that your
intention is to foster kindness and wakefulness and not to fall asleep. If you fall asleep, then
it may be that you are tired and need to rest—so pay attention to your body and what it
needs. Try not to come to the practice when you are fighting off tiredness. If you like, you
can do the exercise sitting upright. Ensure that you will not be disturbed while you do this
practice and that you will be warm enough; cover yourself with a blanket if necessary.
Close your eyes and focus for a while on the rising and falling of the diaphragm as you
breathe, and then become aware of the movement of the breath throughout the body. Feel
the sense of release and letting go as each out-breath leaves the body. Then, take a few
moments to become aware of your body as a whole: the outline of your skin, the weight of
your body, and the sense of gravity bearing down upon it. Notice the points where your
body is in contact with the surfaces it rests upon. Now place your hand on your heart as a
reminder to be kind to yourself. Take three deep, relaxing breaths and then place your arms
by your sides.
Imagine that your attention is infused with a warm glow of kindness and then bring your
attention to the big toes of both of your feet, exploring the sensations that you find here. You
are not trying to make anything happen—you are just feeling what you are feeling.
Gradually broaden your awareness to include your other toes, the soles of your feet, and
the other parts of your feet. Simply feel the sensations as they are and soften around them.
Bring a sense of gratitude to your feet: they work so hard for us yet we pay them so little
attention. Then imagine that you are breathing into both your feet on the in-breath, and
breathing out from this part of the body into the space surrounding it on the out-breath.
Gradually move the warm glow of your attention up your body to your ankles, calves, knees,
and thighs, simply experiencing the sensations you encounter; always being sure that your
attention is tender and saturated with gratitude and respect for each part of your body. Now
let the soft glow of your attention move up to your buttocks and notice if you are holding any
tension in this part of the body; if so, soften around it with your awareness. Then imagine
that you are breathing into this part of the body on the in-breath, and breathing out from this
part of the body into the space surrounding it on the out-breath. As you breathe in, imagine
that you are holding the entirety of the lower part of your body within your awareness and as
you breathe out, imagine that you release this part of your body within your awareness.
When you notice that your mind has drifted off into thinking or dreaming or planning, as it
will do very often, simply notice this and return to the sensations in your body—no
judgment, no sense of getting it wrong, as this is just what the mind does. And then
gradually move your soft attention to your abdomen, lower and upper back, shoulders, rib
cage, and chest. Every now and again, pause and bring a sense of gratitude and
tenderness to the part of the body you are holding in awareness, reflecting on what it does
for you and how, so often, you may take it for granted.
Now bring kind awareness to your spine, gently curving through your body, and the point at
which it meets the skull. Have a sense of the solid frame of your body. Then bring your
awareness down your arms and into your hands, fingers, and fingertips. Notice the warmth
and energy that is stored in the palms of your hands. Notice what the hands feel like at rest.
And then once again imagine that you are breathing into your torso on the in-breath and
breathing out from this part of the body into the space surrounding it on the out-breath.
Then gradually bring the soft glow of awareness to your head, neck, throat, and face, noting
any tension held in the muscles around the forehead, around the eyes, the jaw, and the
mouth. Notice how sensitive your face feels to the temperature of the air in the room. Allow
your face to soften.
Now sweep your attention from your head back down to your feet again, but more quickly
this time, and then bring your attention back to your breathing. Pay attention to the
movement of the breath in your body as a whole—as if your whole body is breathing and is
held in the warm glow of your awareness. When you are about to finish the practice, place
your han on your heart again as a final gesture of kindness, and slowly start moving your
body, rolling over onto one side, and then gradually getting up. This will help get the body
moving again and reduce stiffness. Make sure not to jar yourself back into ordinary
awareness too quickly.
Sitting Practice
We are now at the point of setting up a daily sitting practice. We do sitting
practice because it provides us with regular periods of training in mindfulness
every day. This is not a withdrawal from life, but a way of building up the
capacity from which to engage more fully with our lives. Working with the mind
is not easy and changing ingrained habits takes time and consistent application.
So while it is useful to incorporate mindfulness into everyday life, and indeed
the reason why we do this training is to lead more mindful and compassionate
lives, it is also important to devote time every day for sitting practice (even only
fifteen to twenty minutes). The sitting practice is like a daily refueling point in
which we recharge our batteries.
Posture
In doing sitting practice, the first thing to consider is our posture. It reflects
our intention and state of mind. If we can develop a correct posture, then we will
find it easier for our minds to settle. We will also feel stable and sufficiently
comfortable in our bodies to maintain a meditation posture for a longer period of
time. We can choose to practice sitting in a chair or on the floor. If you choose a
chair, try one that is relatively upright and that allows you to place your feet flat
upon the floor. Try to sit a little away from the back of the chair so your back is
self-supporting. It may help to place a small cushion at the small of your back
for some support.
If you choose to sit on the floor, it will help to have a meditation cushion or
bench to raise your buttocks off the floor. If you use a cushion, try to sit on the
front end of it. It is important that your knees are close to the ground, no higher
than your buttocks, and that your thighs are sloping down toward the ground.
This will support your back and maintain the hollow in the small of your back.
These postures involve either crossing your legs in front of you with one heel
drawn toward the body and the other leg in front of it, or kneeling using a
cushion or stool with your feet behind you.
It is important to find a posture that is comfortable and that supports a
wakeful and alert state of mind as you do not want to doze off. So find a posture
that reflects this—upright, with your spine erect, but not rigid. Become aware of
the natural curvature of your spine and the soft arch in your lower back. The
head is gently poised at the top of the spine with your chin tucked in slightly.
Relax your shoulders. Lower and soften the gaze of your eyes at about a 45-
degree angle or gently close your eyes. The head, neck, and shoulders are
vertically aligned. The chest does not sink in, but gently lifts. Imagine a golden
thread pulling you up slightly from the top of your head. Rest your hands in your
lap, cupped one inside the other. It can be helpful to place the tongue on the
ridge behind the upper front teeth.
When we sit down to practice, we often find that our mind is still busily
engaged with the activities of the day. So once we have settled into a
comfortable posture, it can be useful to engage with the soothing breathing
rhythm (exercise 3) for about five minutes to help settle the mind sufficiently to
engage with mindfulness practice. This phase marks a break with the activities
of the day; it clears some of the self-talk and chatter we may have carried over
from our last interactions with people.
We then bring our awareness more fully into the body by doing the
grounding phase. We have introduced ourselves to this stage by doing the body-
scan practice above. We can very easily lose our sense of embodiment through
the speedy lives we live and through the activity of the threat and drive systems
that draw our attention into the head, as we explored above. Grounding our
awareness in the body acknowledges the totality of who we are—we are
embodied beings, not just busy heads suspended on inert bodies.
Once we have grounded our awareness in the body, we let go of any sense of
needing to do anything, and just rest. It is useful at this point to give up any idea
of trying to meditate, as this instills a sense of striving in the mind. A good
analogy for this stage is opening our hand, which is holding a pebble, and
allowing the pebble to just rest there; we neither clasp it tightly nor throw it on
the ground. We just let it be there. Similarly, we allow our mental and emotional
experience to be held within our body as a field of awareness—we just sit there
and do nothing. Through the resting stage, we get a glimpse of the fact that the
mind has a natural tendency to be at rest, like water left undisturbed, and we see
how constant involvement with thinking disturbs the mind.
Resting is a way of entering the mode of being. Normally, much of our life is
locked into the mode of doing and even when we stop doing things with our
body, our mind never seems to stop. Through grounding and resting, we learn
simply to be with whatever is present in our experience right now. It is like
learning to shift down a gear. A chronic affliction of modern life is that we
operate in high gear all the time and seem to have lost the ability to shift down—
we have lost the ability to just be. Put differently, we have lost the ability to
access the soothing system, and we are perpetually locked into the high-activity
modes of threat and drive.
Resting is the most profound form of sitting practice, sometimes described as
choiceless awareness. We get a glimpse of it, but due to the power of distraction,
we may find that our attention is quickly carried away by thoughts. This is the
point where we introduce a mindfulness support. It is a reference point for our
attention to return to when we notice that we get lost in thought, and it is an
anchor to hold our attention in the present moment. We normally use one of the
senses as a support; in this case, we use breathing.
When we work with a mindfulness support, the important thing is to
maintain the quality of resting when we focus on the support so we don’t clasp
tightly around the support but touch it lightly with our attention. We also remain
connected with our body and the mode of being. It is not a top-down process of
focusing tightly on the support and keeping thoughts away; that is a form of
control that will instill tension in the mind and will suppress our emotional life.
Instead it is a bottom-up process of engaging lightly with the support when we
drift off, but remaining grounded in the body. So the support is always there and
we know that we can return to it at any moment, but our awareness is largely
grounded in the body. In this way we can see that the initial stages of slowing
down, grounding, and resting are the foundations for the sitting practice, and
remain in place when we work with a support.
In the beginning it can be useful to identify the stages of sitting practice in a
step-by-step way, but these stages should not be seen as distinct compartments;
they are a continuous flow. It is like learning to drive a car: we are taught each of
the stages as if they were distinct and separate, like turning on the ignition,
releasing the hand brake, putting our foot on the clutch, and moving the gears;
but once we know what to do, we just get in and drive the car. Mindfulness is
similar—the reason for identifying the stages is so that you become familiar with
them and then find your own way of embodying the process.
Before introducing the sitting practice, there are some useful tips to bear in
mind; these are relevant to all the exercises we do in this practice section of the
book.
If you think of anything that you would like to learn, such as swimming,
playing the piano, or driving a car, it’s always best to start off when things are
easy. It’s not a good idea to learn how to swim once you’ve fallen overboard in a
storm, but rather to start in the shallow end of a warm swimming pool. Similarly,
it is best to do these practices when you feel relatively stable and settled, and in
this way you build up capacity to relate to the mind when things get tough.
No Time to Practice
Sometimes we find that our lives are so busy that it’s difficult to put time
aside to practice. This is very common. If you find that you can’t set aside time
for formal practice, then try to find times when you naturally have space, such as
when sitting on a train or waiting for a bus. We also suggest trying to begin each
day with a short practice if you can’t manage any longer. Always remember that
if it doesn’t work out and you can’t find the time to practice, this is not a reason
to beat yourself up; it’s just an opportunity to try again.
Begin by settling into your posture, which is like a container for your practice. Then for a few
minutes, engage with your soothing breathing rhythm, slightly deepening and slowing your
breathing and allowing your awareness to flow softly with the movement of the breath,
letting it soothe you and bring you more fully into the body. Then focus a little more on the
out-breath and notice how when you breathe out, the body relaxes a little, and how your
center of gravity begins to drop from your head into your body (see exercise 5).
Grounding
Now let your breathing fall back to its normal rhythm and bring your attention more fully into
the body. Become aware of the contact and pressure where your body rests on the seat or
the ground below you, and gently tune in to the sensations in the body. Do this in a relaxed
and open way and allow the sensations to present themselves to you: you may be aware of
the temperature of your body—warm, cold, or neutral; perhaps there is a slight pain in your
right shoulder or a feeling of tension in one of your knees; or maybe there is a contraction in
your stomach related to an emotion you are feeling.
Some people find that a systematic scanning of the body works best for them. If this is the
case, then begin at the feet and move progressively up through the body, becoming aware
of whatever sensations are present, ending up with the head, and then returning to the feet
again. Others find that a random approach suits them better, in which case simply sit there
and allow sensations to command your attention as they arise. Note the presence of the
sensation and then relax around it until the next one appears and commands your attention.
This stage does not involve analysis or investigation; you are just acknowledging the
presence of sensations and relaxing around them. Notice how doing this holds your
attention in the moment.
Once you have scanned your body or allowed your attention to be drawn to particular
sensations, then become aware of your body as a whole, as if you are holding your whole
body within your awareness. Then become aware of the space around you: notice how the
body exists in space and is surrounded by it.
Resting
Now let go of any sense of trying to do anything and just be there—let go of trying to
meditate. Keep your eyes open and, in a relaxed, almost casual way, allow yourself to
experience whatever comes to you via your senses; but don’t look at anything or listen for
anything. Simply be where you are and in touch with whatever comes to you. So, for
example, you may become aware of the room: objects are seen without being looked at; the
same is true of sounds—you hear them because they are present but without listening in a
particular way. See if you can rest in this way for a short while. When you notice that your
mind drifts away and becomes involved with thoughts, which will happen very soon, then
move on to the next stage, which is using breathing as a support to hold your attention in
the present moment.
Breath Support
Rest your attention lightly on the natural rhythm of your breathing, and tune in to it wherever
you find it most easily in your body—this could be the breath coming and going through your
nostrils, your abdomen rising and falling, the sensation of the breath leaving your body, or
the feeling of your whole body breathing. It does not matter where you rest your attention;
what is important is to have a light touch—not shutting out thoughts and emotions, but
allowing them to come and go.
So the practice is simple—breathing in, you are aware you are breathing in; breathing out,
you know you are breathing out. In this way the breath is like an anchor holding your
attention in the body, holding it present. When you find that your attention has drifted off into
thinking, simply notice this and return your attention to the breath—no sense of succeeding
or failing, just noticing and returning.
Once you come to the end of your designated practice session, spend a few moments
resting without focusing on anything in particular and let go of the idea of trying to meditate.
You could say to yourself: nothing to do, nowhere to go, and nothing to achieve. Then
stretch your body and slowly get up. See if you can carry the awareness of your sitting
session into the next moments of your day.
Conclusion
Sitting practice provides the foundation for the compassion practices that follow.
For these practices to be effective, we need to cultivate the stability that comes
from mindfulness practice. Before we can engage with difficulty, in ourselves
and others, it helps to feel grounded in the present moment.
Through practicing mindfulness sitting practice, we are laying the
foundations for building compassionate capacity. In particular, we are learning
to access the soothing/affiliation system. We are learning to notice when our
attention is captured by threat- and drive-focused emotions, and to bring it back
within the domain of the soothing system. But, as we well know, this emotional
system is not our default mode, so it takes practice and training to learn to step
into it. This is the role of mindfulness training in this context.
Key Stages
Clarifying our motive before we start
Experiential Acceptance
We now explore the process of acceptance in more detail because it is a key part
of mindfulness practice and it lays the foundation for the compassion practices
that follow. Instead of reacting to the fact that our mind is perpetually distracted,
we accept this fact; we give our mind permission to be the way it is, and we do
not fight with this reality. We accept that our attention is not going to stay with
the mindfulness support for very long and will drift off into thinking, and we
accept that most of the time we are not able to be mindful because the tendency
to become distracted is very strong. What this does is put us into clear alignment
with what is actually going on in our inner world from moment to moment,
rather than being in opposition to it.
In the academic literature on acceptance, this is described as experiential
acceptance.1 This means that the primary object of acceptance is our moment-
by-moment experience rather than what caused the experience or the person
behind it. In the example of getting angry, experiential acceptance focuses on the
actual feelings of being angry rather than what triggered the anger or the
predispositions of the person who became angry. This is contrasted with
experiential avoidance, which psychologists Neharika Chawla and Brian Ostafin
describe as “unwillingness to remain in contact with private experiences such as
painful thoughts and emotions.”2 We also suggest that this unwillingness can be
outside of voluntary control, as in the case of people who are in denial or even
dissociate; here it is not so much a voluntary unwillingness but rather that our
minds become so disorganized and threat focused that they automatically switch
off and tune out.3 In this case, willingness is the step-by-step process of
gradually recognizing and choosing to dissolve those defenses that block us from
knowing. As we mentioned in chapter 5, emotional avoidance is one of the main
ways in which mindfulness can be undermined, so clearly understanding
experiential acceptance is very important in keeping our practice on the right
track.
Before we can change something, we have to be clear about what it is that
we are working with—this is the essential meaning of acceptance. If we want to
scrape down and repaint a wall, we need to study closely the existing condition
of the wall so we are clear where to apply our efforts and what parts we want to
scrape down and clean. Similarly, if we want to work in a realistic way with our
minds, we need to come to terms with what is actually going on so we can
intelligently appraise what we are going to do next. If we react to our inner
experiences or resist what is going on, this merely confuses the issue.
This point is important and really needs reflecting on. If we become
absorbed in our reaction to a difficulty, then this is all we experience and it will
then be hard to relate to the difficulty itself. The process of acceptance opens up
the space around our experience so that both the difficulty and our reaction to it
can be present. It is like standing in front of the wall with dark sunglasses so we
cannot see any of the blemishes or cracks, when instead what we need to do is
take off the sunglasses and pay close attention. This is the meaning of
acceptance in the context of mindfulness practice.
Unfortunately, the English word “acceptance” has certain connotations that
can cause us to misunderstand what the process is all about. As John C. Williams
and Steven Lynn point out, “The etymological root of acceptance is the Latin
acceptare, the Old French accepter, and finally the Middle English accept used
by Chaucer and Wyclif in the 14th century. To accept is to receive willingly or
with approval, to take toward rather than cast away.…” 4 Now this is not quite
what we mean by acceptance in this context. It does not mean that we condone
or approve of negative states of mind; it just means that we see clearly what is
going on. It also does not mean that once we accept something, we are stuck
with it for good; it is not a state of resignation. Quite the contrary, it is the first
step toward effective change. It also does not mean that we have to like what is
going on; it just means that we do not fool ourselves about what is going on. For
example, we might be experiencing bouts of low mood or even depression.
Accepting this state of affairs means facing what is actually happening—not
denying the depression, not condoning it, not liking it, not indulging in it, and
not resigning ourselves to always being depressed. It simply means seeing
clearly what is happening so we know what to do next—for example, seek help
rather than shamefully hide. It is based on the understanding that reaction and
resistance to what is happening merely add another level of confusion and
suffering on top of whatever is already afflicting us. So reaction and resistance
are like adding fuel to a fire.
We can even go so far as to say that the main issue is not so much what
happens, but how we react to what happens—we might have cancer and that is
very difficult, but refusing to accept it makes it much more difficult to endure or
seek treatment. We may have lost our partner and that is painful, but refusing to
acknowledge that this has happened, or constantly replaying the past to imagine
a different outcome, turns the situation into a waking nightmare. We may be
experiencing feelings of low mood and anxiety, but if we refuse to accept this
because it does not stack up to how we want to see our self, it makes the
situation worse. In a way, self-criticism is linked to lacking acceptance because
lack of acceptance is why we are attacking ourselves. Therefore, not only is
there the suffering of the problem itself, but there is also the suffering of
nonacceptance of the problem, and often the latter can hurt far more.
There is a famous sutra—a teaching of the Buddha—called the sutra of the
arrow.5 According to this sutra, even the wise and the good are struck by the first
arrow, which is the unavoidable pain of life, like getting sick, making mistakes,
and suffering various misfortunes; but most people are struck by a second arrow
that is more painful than the first arrow because it lands very close to the initial
wound, and this is the arrow of nonacceptance, resistance, and struggle—not
being willing to face or feel the wound of the first arrow.
In mindfulness practice, the skill of acceptance, or nonresistance, is crucial
because it enables us to let ourselves off the hook and to return to the freshness
of the present moment without encumbering it with layer upon layer of reactivity
and struggle. So acceptance is a realistic way to approach our lives and our
minds. It is a willingness to see clearly the facts before us, even if they are
difficult to take on board. It expresses an intention of moving toward, taking in,
and working with what is difficult and painful rather than moving away in denial
or pushing things under the carpet. It allows us to start from where we are, not
from where we might like to be, and this provides the ground from which
genuine change can take place.
It is also important to remember, however, that the alleviation of suffering is
crucial to compassion. If your hand is by the fire, then it makes sense to remove
it from the source of pain. We can accept being depressed, do not need to blame
ourselves for it, and fight or hate it, but that does not mean to say that we don’t
try to get treatment!
Motivation
This is always the starting point. If we are not motivated to work with
ourselves and try to come to terms with what we are going through, then we will
struggle with the other stages. We return to this point again and again. In this
context, motivation means being willing to step outside our rigid defensive ways
of reacting to things and face what we are really feeling. If we are sitting
meditating and feeling at peace, for example, and then there is an unwelcome
knock on the door of our inner world and a feeling of anxiety threatens to intrude
on our peace, motivation means being willing to turn toward what is unexpected
and unwelcome. It is cultivating the willingness to face what is happening and
step out of preferred avoidance. This is based on the wisdom that blocking out or
denying our experience merely creates conflict in our mind and intensifies
whatever we are going through.
Sensitivity
When we step out of denial, we are able to notice, pay attention to, and
recognize what is actually happening in our field of experience. Returning to our
example, when anxiety arises, we acknowledge it and we name it. We notice
where it is in the body. In so doing, the emotion loses some of its power over us.
The simple act of acknowledging takes some of the sting out of what we resist
and do not like.
Sometimes we can find ourselves becoming anxious about being angry, or
fearful about being fearful, and this has the effect of activating the threat system
and before we know it, we are caught in a vicious circle. What we need to do is
break that feedback loop and step back from it. We can do that by simply
recognizing what is happening instead of automatically reacting to it.
Sympathy
As we recognize what is there, we let it touch us. We notice the thoughts and
feelings “about” feeling anxious. We are not involved in a cold, detached
process of observation like a scientist peering down a microscope. We allow
ourselves to be moved by what we experience. In many ways this follows from
the first two stages—once we are willing to face things and turn our attention
toward what is happening, sympathy can naturally arise. Instead of shutting
feelings of loneliness and anxiety out of our hearts by closing the door and
pretending that they are not there, we open the door and let them touch us. It is
like being prepared to open the door to a beggar who is looking for food and
shelter and paying attention to his disheveled condition, taking his humanity and
his pain on board, and not shutting off from it. In some cases, we may find that
our hearts are closed to sympathy and we do not feel emotionally moved by
things. In this case, we need to work more on the resources of loving-kindness
and compassion, which relate to the outer circle of skills we explore in the next
chapter. Also, in order to allow ourselves to be moved by something, we must
learn how to tolerate it. If we cannot tolerate the sight of the beggar at the door,
there is not much chance of us feeling sympathy for his condition because all we
will want to do is shut the door in his face. This brings us to the next stage.
Tolerance
As we allow a difficult emotion to enter our field of awareness, the next step
is to try to understand the part of ourselves that is calling for attention. In the
case of anxiety, it means gently tuning in to and connecting with what it needs,
what wisdom it has to offer us, and what it requires in order to be soothed. In
chapter 4, we defined empathy as the ability to understand and emotionally
recognize the feelings, motives, and intentions of another human being. But first
we need to have empathy for the different parts of ourselves (see chapter 2).
Now the arising of empathy depends on the previous attributes being activated—
we seek to step out of denial (motivation), recognize what is present
(sensitivity), let ourselves be moved by what we experience (sympathy), and
allow our emotions to unfold and abide in their own way (tolerance).
An important aspect of empathy is being curious about the details of our
experience so that we can learn about it and come to a wise understanding. We
need to be willing to inquire into what is going on inside of us, instead of just
assuming that we know what our experience is and reacting automatically. Often
we think we know what we are experiencing—“I just don’t like being on my
own, that’s all,” or “This is just an old hang-up from childhood”—without
understanding the complex emotional memories and bodily experiences involved
(see chapters 2 and 3). If we reflect more deeply, we discover that there is more
to any experience than we can know at first glance. So we need to be willing to
ask ourselves “What is going on here?” and really look with an open mind,
instead of thinking that we already know.
It can help if we allow ourselves to be aware of and develop empathy for the
different parts of the self by inquiring into them in this way: “What is going on
with my angry self?” or “What is going on with my anxious self?” The more we
recognize these multiple aspects of ourselves, the more we can mindfully accept
them as being a family of different selves. Mindful acceptance means we do not
overpersonalize, overidentify with, or blame ourselves for these selves; nor do
we just allow them to control the show.
In this particular context, we practice empathy by applying the four
foundations of mindfulness, which derive from the teachings of the Buddha and
which we touched on briefly in chapter 5. Here, we will again use anxiety as an
example to illustrate the process.
Mindfulness of the body: Notice where the anxiety is held within the
body. There might be a contraction in the chest or tightness in the
shoulders, a sickness in the stomach, shaky limbs. We then notice what
kind of sensations we are experiencing in this part of the body—maybe
there is tightness, tension, cold, a vibration, and so on. Notice if we are
resisting these sensations. Then notice what happens if we open to them
with kindness and acceptance.
Nonjudgment
Once we have inquired into the details of what we are going through, the
next stage is to relate to our experience from a noncondemning standpoint. This
means making space for all the different elements of our experience. In the
words of Jon Kabat-Zinn,8 it means being open to the full catastrophe of being
alive, or in the words of Rob Nairn in his teaching, it means being willing to
drop into our own “compassionate mess” that is both uncomfortable and yet rich
in possibility. And then from the standpoint of this nonjudging attitude of mind,
we inquire of every mental state or emotion that arises: “Is this really who I am,
or is this just an experience that is moving through me?” In the case of anxiety,
we inquire: “Has it become who I am in this moment?”
The process of identifying with something is an interesting one. If one day
you suddenly get diarrhea and an attack of vomiting, you don’t think you are the
diarrhea and vomiting—you recognize that these are just temporary
physiological processes going on inside you, unpleasant as they may be; and
mostly you let them “run” their course (no pun intended). When it comes to
disturbances of the mind, however, we have a perverse (and very unhelpful)
tendency to identify with them and think that “I am an anxious or angry person,”
as opposed to recognizing that anger or anxiety gets triggered in us in certain
circumstances and is temporary. Or we might have aggressive or sexual fantasies
and then become concerned and think we shouldn’t have them; so we end up
fighting with them rather than seeing them as reflections of our tricky brain.
Sadly, some individuals become so caught up in worrying about the contents of
their mind and their fantasies that they become unwell with obsessional
disorders—mild forms of which are far more common than is usually
recognized, indeed so much so that the psychologist Lee Baer calls them “the
imps of the mind,”9 whereas we identify them as elements of the tricky brain.
So the point is that identifying with mind states like anxiety causes our mind
to contract around them tightly so that our mental landscape becomes closed in
and painful. Underlying this process is a subtle judgment and reaction to our
experience—somehow feeling that it is not okay that we are going through what
we are experiencing. But through making space for our experience, essentially
by not judging it, our mind is able to relax its tight grip on the anxiety and a
greater sense of freedom can arise. In this way, the difficult emotion is given
space to unravel, work its way through us, and change.
Follow the normal routine of soothing breathing, grounding, resting, and breath support
(exercise 6).10 If you find that a difficult thought or a certain emotion or mind state
persistently arises in your mind, then actively turn toward it rather than pushing it away,
treating it as something that is calling for your attention. Do this by following the steps
below. As we’ve said before, always remember to work with emotions or mind states that
are easy before you engage more difficult emotions.
Recognize what the emotion or mind state is and label it in whichever way fits best. Maybe
you could label it as “loneliness,” “worry,” “sadness,” “longing,” “envy,” “pride,” or “lust.” If
there is no obvious label, then make a mental note in whatever way feels most appropriate.
Mentally repeat the label two or three times in a soft, kind voice and then return to the
breath as your mindfulness support. Sometimes the emotion or difficulty can exert a strong
pull, in which case let your attention be drawn from your breath by the emotion, label it, and
then return to your breath, going back and forth between your breath and the emotion in a
relaxed, fluid way.
Now actively welcome the emotion and allow it to be present. Let go of the wish for it to go
away. Make space for it. Then lightly return to the breath support, but if the emotion
persistently calls for your attention, then incline toward it, soften around it, and let your heart
be touched by it. You can place your hand on your heart as a gesture of kindness and
create a gentle friendly smile. Now switch from focusing on breathing to the emotion itself
and make this the focus of your mindfulness practice. But do this in a particular way by
following the next step.
First bring your attention to where the emotion or difficulty is held within your body. Do this
by sweeping your attention from your head to your toes, and notice where the feeling
expresses itself most prominently in the body. Then gently incline toward that place in your
body, while continuing to breathe naturally, and just allow the sensation to be there as it is.
You can place your hand over your heart again as you breathe as a reminder to be soft and
kind. Allow the rhythmic motion of the breathing to soothe your body just as when you did
the soothing breathing rhythm. Notice what kind of sensations you are experiencing in this
part of the body—maybe there is a tightness, contraction, heat, vibration, and so on. Notice
if you are resisting these sensations. Then notice what happens if you open to them with
softness and acceptance.
Now bring your attention to the emotions and feelings connected with the experience.
Notice what the primary feeling is—whether it’s pleasant, unpleasant, or neutral—and then
observe what layers of feeling make up the experience. You may notice that the emotion
you are working with is not one emotion, but a constellation of subtle feelings. Then try to
meet each of these feelings with kindness and acceptance.
Next, notice what thoughts or beliefs are spinning around the emotion. Take a step back
and look at these thoughts: are they true or biased?
And then notice how you are relating to your experience. Are you taking the emotion to be
very solid and real? Are you seeing it as permanent? Are you clinging to it and focusing on it
alone?
Now open outward around your experience and be willing to hold whatever you are
experiencing in a nonjudging awareness. In this stage, you move from paying attention to
the detail of your experience to holding your experience as a whole within your awareness.
Then inquire of every mental state or emotion that arises: “Is this really who I am, or is this
just an experience that is moving through me? Has it become who I am in this moment?”
Through practicing in this way you may come to see that the presenting emotion or difficulty
is not who you are—it is just something moving through you. It is temporary.
When it comes to doing this acceptance practice, it is important to understand the principles
and follow the stages but then to tailor the practice for yourself. In this way you find your
own way of doing the practice that corresponds with your personality.
Key Points
Through mindfulness and acceptance practice, we become increasingly
familiar with the inner landscape of the mind, while through compassion
practice, we learn to cultivate positive habits that will build harmony and
well-being in our minds and relationships.
Compassion as Flow
Compassion can be expressed in three different ways. In the first instance, we
can experience compassion being directed to us from other people, and we can
become aware of the degree to which we are open to receiving other people’s
compassion. Quite often our minds are focused on averting threats, and we can
find ourselves tuning out other people’s kindness or just taking it for granted.
Remember the example we gave before of going shopping one day and finding
nine salespeople who are very polite and helpful but one shop assistant who’s
surly and rude? Which one do you talk about when you go home that night? In
all likelihood you will not mention the friendly ones and will just focus on the
one who was rude. In a similar way, our mind has a way of tuning out of
everyday acts of kindness and friendliness. But imagine what would happen if
you made a deliberate effort to balance your attention and bring to mind again
the smiling faces and the happiness of the people who were able to help you buy
a good present. Imagine what would happen in your body and your feelings if
you did that regularly rather than just let your threat system run the show.
Second, compassion also flows from ourselves to others. We can feel
compassion for other people when we open up to their suffering, wish them well,
and take joy in them being happy and flourishing. These are feelings that emerge
within us and are directed outward. Third, there is the compassion that we can
feel for ourselves. It comes when we have a heartfelt wish for ourselves not only
to deal with our tricky brains and life stories, but also to experience happiness
and connectedness.
In each case the “inner circle” attributes of compassion are important. For
example, when we experience compassion from other people, we sense they are
motivated to help us, they are attentive to our needs, they are emotionally
engaged rather than disengaged, they can cope with our distress, they can
empathize with and understand what we are going through, and they are not
critical and harsh. Similarly, when we feel compassion for others, we embody
these same attributes in varying degrees toward others: we are motivated to help,
we are attentive to their suffering, we try to relieve it if we can. The same applies
when we develop compassion for ourselves. What is important is to focus on
allowing the flow of feeling to go in these different directions in order to activate
the positive emotional systems that feed compassion.
The flow of compassion is summarized in the following way:
In order to get the flow of compassion going, we can start in a simple way
with a series of imagery exercises that have proved very useful in working with
people who experience anxiety and depression. In exercise 8, which follows
shortly, we start off by imagining feeling safe and welcomed in a special place.
Safeness is important because it’s part of the three-circle system that we looked
at in chapter 3. Learning to inhabit a place that arouses feelings of safeness is a
good starting point for compassion work.
In exercise 9, we focus on receiving compassion from a color that is imbued
with the qualities of the compassionate mind, whose sole intention is to heal us
and soften the “inner edges” of our painful emotional patterns. For many people
this is a useful first step before imagining receiving compassion from another
being; they may be resistant to receiving compassion from others because they
feel they don’t deserve it, it alarms them, or it sets off grief and yearning
processes (see chapter 6). You may prefer, however, to go straight to exercise
10, which is to imagine receiving compassion from a compassionate image that
is the very embodiment of all the qualities (attributes and skills) of compassion.
See which works best for you.
Working with Imagery
In chapter 8, we noted that mind training is made up of two key stages:
familiarization and cultivation. Thus far we have focused on becoming familiar
with our minds and establishing some degree of stability that will act as a
platform for training in compassion. Now we will focus on the process of
cultivation. A key theme of the earlier chapters of this book was that evolution
has endowed us with a brain that is complex and contains many tendencies and
potentialities, but we have the ability to choose which tendencies to cultivate
given our new brain capacities for reflection and imagination. We can choose the
kind of person we want to become.
A key tool in this respect is working with compassionate imagery. It is one
of the skills of compassion in the compassion circle (see chapter 4). In the
exercises that follow, we will direct our attention to creating particular images
and sensations in the mind. These exercises are designed to help us tap into our
soothing/affiliation system and cultivate our innate compassionate qualities.
Imagery is very powerful.2 We know that what we imagine can have a
powerful effect on our bodies and our minds. If we are hungry and see a meal,
for example, this can stimulate our saliva and stomach acids. But, if we just
fantasize about a meal because it’s late at night and we have no money to buy
one, the very act of imagining food can also stimulate our saliva and stomach
acids in equal measure. Another example of how our imagination can stimulate
our bodily processes is when we sexually fantasize about somebody we are
physically attracted to. In this respect, our bodies respond to our imaginations in
a similar way to how they would respond if the person in question was standing
in front of us.
Similarly, if we are angry and we imagine arguing with somebody, this will
affect our brain and bodily processes in much the same way as a real-life
argument. If we put someone into a brain-scanning machine and ask them to
start reliving arguments, the areas of their brain related to anger will light up. In
the same way, if there are things we are anxious about or we imagine something
frightening happening to us, this will stimulate our anxiety system. Conversely,
if we focus on something we are looking forward to, such as imagining a
sumptuous holiday in the sun, this will give us a buzz of excitement. These
examples help us recognize how powerfully imagery affects our brains and
bodies by stimulating particular feelings and thoughts.
It follows, therefore, that compassionate imagery can work in the same way:
if we focus our minds on kindness and caring, this will affect our feelings and
stimulate our bodily and mental processes in particular ways. In fact, we know
from research that if we focus on feelings of caring and being cared for, this can
have a range of beneficial effects on our sense of emotional well-being.
Research shows that the more we focus on kindness and support for each other
and ourselves, the happier and healthier we tend to be.3
No Clear Pictures
Some people think that they can’t visualize because they are unable to create
clear and lasting pictures in their minds. But this is a misunderstanding of what
imagery practice is all about. Supposing we were to ask you, “What’s a car?” In
all likelihood, a fragmented image would pop into your mind. If we asked you,
“What did you have for breakfast today?” you would have some kind of image
based on memory. If we then asked you, “What kind of summer holiday do you
like?” you would have a series of fleeting images based on what you like—hot
or cold countries, certain activities, or just sitting by a pool. These fleeting and
vague impressions are what we mean by imagery. They are very fragmented and
transitory. In fact you might not have any clear visual image at all, just an
impression; but this would be enough to give detailed information to someone
inquiring about what you had for breakfast or your favorite holiday. Therefore,
do not try to create vivid Polaroid pictures that are clear and sharp. If only
fleeting impressions and fragments appear, these are fine. The key focus of this
imagery work is on the feelings that we are trying to generate. Connecting to the
felt sense is more important than having clear visual images.
Safe Place
As mentioned above, the first step is to create a sense of inner safeness and
support so that the right conditions are in place to begin our training in
compassion. Whenever we work on ourselves in depth, it is helpful to imagine
being in an environment that feels conducive and supportive. It’s the same when
we settle down with a partner: we try to find a comfortable home that is warm
and protective so that we have the optimal conditions to raise a family.
Similarly, when we are seeking to awaken our inner compassionate self, it is
useful to find the right conditions to do this.
In this exercise, we try to imagine what kind of place would give us feelings
of safeness and calmness. This can be any place you like. It can be an actual
place you visited or somewhere very familiar like a favorite room in your house
or somewhere in your garden. It can also be somewhere imaginary, a place you
saw in a movie or read about in a book; or it can be your own creation. It can be
outside in nature or inside a safe home; it might be day or night, summer or
winter—whatever conveys feelings of safeness and a sense of welcoming to you.
The emotional atmosphere that we try to create is one of playfulness.
Intrusions
Find a place where you can sit or lie comfortably and where you will not be disturbed. Then
follow the mindfulness stages of soothing breathing rhythm, grounding, resting, and breath
support (exercise 6). If you do not have much time, then just engage with your soothing
rhythm breathing (exercise 3) and friendly facial expression. As your mind settles, see if you
can invite the image of a place in your mind that gives you the feeling of safeness and
calmness. It might take a while to settle on a place, or you might hop from place to place.
This is okay. Remember that you are not trying to force anything, and the very act of trying
to imagine this place is helpful in itself.
As you settle on a place, then imagine looking around you—what can you see? Are there
colors around you? Can you appreciate their richness? What’s the quality of the light and
the time of day? Now switch your attention to hearing if there are any sounds around you.
Are they loud or faint? Are there any animal sounds, like bird songs for example? Now turn
your attention to physical sensations and what you can feel. Notice the temperature around
you and the feeling of the air on your skin. Maybe you are barefoot in your safe space; if so,
notice the texture of the ground beneath your feet. Notice if you can smell anything in your
safe space.
As you focus on sensory qualities, you are now going to focus on feeling qualities in relation
to this place. So imagine that your safe place welcomes you and enjoys your being here—it
is your creation, and you completely fit into this place. If there are trees nearby, they
welcome you, or if you’re under the duvet, it gently welcomes you too. If you are by the sea,
the soft lapping waves on the sandy beach welcome you. In this way create a sense of
being welcomed and wanted. While imagining this, create a soft smile of friendliness as you
savor these feelings of being welcomed. Notice what happens to your feelings when you
create that smile. Explore what it feels like when you imagine that this place is happy with
you being there. Even if it is just a fleeting sense of where the place might be, try to create
an emotional connection with it.
You can stay with this exercise for as long as you like. When you come to the end of your
practice session, let the image begin to fade and then stretch and prepare yourself for
carrying on with the rest of your day or moving on to the next imagery practice. Keep in
mind that this safe place is your creation, and it is always available for you to return to. It is
never more than a thought away. If you find yourself becoming distressed during the day,
take a few deep, soothing breaths and then immerse yourself in your safe-place imagery.
You can go back at any time and once again experience the sense of welcome and
safeness this place offers you.
Compassionate Color
In this exercise, we go from feeling safe and welcomed to actually feeling
compassion flowing into us from an external source. In this instance, the source
of compassion is nonhuman, a color; but nonetheless, the color is imbued with
certain qualities of mind that we will explore later—wisdom, strength, warmth,
and kindness.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of soothing rhythm breathing, grounding, and resting (exercise 6). If you do not have
much time, then just engage with your soothing breathing rhythm (exercise 3). As your mind
settles, imagine a color or colors that you associate with compassion or that conveys a
sense of warmth and kindness. This might appear as a light, fog or mist, or swirling color(s).
It might only be a fleeting sense of color, but see if you can imagine this color surrounding
you. Then, imagine the color entering through your heart area and slowly spreading through
your body. Think of it as imbued with the qualities of wisdom, strength, warmth, and
kindness. See if you can hold a soft and friendly facial expression as you do this exercise.
Now, as you imagine the color flowing through you, it is solely focused on helping you,
strengthening you, and supporting you. Imagine that it flows around your body and soothes
and softens any areas of difficulty, pain, or tension you might be experiencing. If blocks and
barriers arise—especially those linked to feelings of not deserving this support and kindness
—just recognize these as distractions and intrusions and mindfully go back to focusing on
your compassionate color. Always bear in mind that we are trying to stimulate certain areas
of the brain with these exercises. Don’t worry, then, if your distractions and intrusions seem
overwhelming at times; just smile to yourself, go back to the soothing breathing rhythm, and
try to stay with the exercise as best you can. When you come to the end of your practice
session, let the image of the compassionate color fade and then stretch and try to maintain
a “felt sense” of the compassionate color holding and supporting you as you go about your
day.
Compassionate Image
Compassionate Image
In the next exercise we imagine compassion flowing into ourselves from a very
compassionate being. This type of visualization practice is used in many spiritual
and religious traditions. Over the millennia, people have used prayer as a way of
contacting and opening to God (or a spiritual deity) seeking the confidence and
conviction that they are fully loved and accepted by God. One of the reasons
why these practices emerged and worked for people is because it is very
powerful to imagine being completely loved and cared for by an idealized other.
In the Tibetan Buddhist tradition, spiritual practitioners invoke the image of
Chenrezig in front of them and see this deity as the embodiment of all the wise
and compassionate qualities in the universe. And then once they have created the
firm conviction that Chenrezig is present and attentive to them, they make
prayers to receive his grace and blessing. In reality what is happening is that they
are opening up to this universal potential in themselves, and the process of prayer
and visualization is a way of accessing these qualities. Indeed, the process of
imagining an ideal compassionate other is a theme stretching back thousands of
years that has deep resonance for human beings.4
One of the main themes of this book is that our mammalian heritage has
wired our brains to respond in positive ways when we feel cared for and loved
by important others. We explored this in detail in chapter 2. For some of us,
however, our early caring relationships have been compromised in that we did
not get the love and attention we yearned for or felt neglected in some way. So
in this exercise we imagine receiving love and care from an ideal compassionate
other. Just as when you’re hungry, you imagine your favorite meal, or if you
want sex, you fantasize about an ideal sexual partner, so too the very act of
thinking about what you want from an ideal compassionate image begins the
process of gearing your mind to what you really need. Our colleague Deborah
Lee coined a term for this—“our perfect nurturer”—meaning that it’s perfect for
us; it gives us exactly what we need.5
In this section’s exercise, we are working with the power of our own
imaginations to create the most compassionate being we can, one beyond human
frailties or limitations. Some people like to imagine a humanlike being, such as a
wise person, while others prefer to imagine an animal or even something
inanimate like a tree or a mountain or a mighty ocean. Others like to picture an
image of light. Whatever you choose to envision is completely up to your own
imagination and what feels right for you; the important thing is that your
compassionate image is endowed with a mind that is focused on you. Drawing
on the attributes of compassion, this compassionate being is completely
motivated by his, her, or its compassion to help you; sensitive to your needs and
emotionally in tune with your distress; able to tolerate and hold any pain and
struggles you are going through; understanding and empathic; and never
judgmental. It is not necessary to have a specific visual image; simply to think of
such an image is enough. What is most important is the “felt sense” of the
compassionate ideal other.
The key thing here is that your compassionate image is completely
compassionate to you. In its presence, you can be yourself; there is no need to
pretend to be what you are not. Your compassionate image does not judge you
negatively or criticize you. It completely understands you, accepts you, and is
loving toward you.
Wisdom
Your compassionate image is endowed with wisdom that comes from having
gone through many difficulties. This wisdom is forged from this being’s own life
experience; it is not abstract or remote. The compassionate image understands
the nature of life on Earth and how we are all caught up in the flow of life; we
are caught up in something much greater than ourselves that, and we find
ourselves with a brain we didn’t choose that gets fired up with all kinds of
emotions, fantasies, and difficulties—a brain that gets caught in loops between
threat emotions like anger and anxiety. Like the Buddha, this being understands
that life is full of suffering because everything is impermanent; so often we
grasp at things we cannot get or try to keep hold of things we cannot keep—and
this causes us suffering. It also recognizes that there are no feelings, fantasies,
and motives you experience that many others before you have not experienced.
We call this common humanity. We are all in the same boat; we are all created
in similar ways. In essence, nothing that happens is personal. If you link this to
the compassion circle, then your image has sensitivity, sympathy, and empathy
that arise from deep insight into the nature of suffering.
Your compassionate image has an inner strength and confidence that comes
from its experience and understanding. It is not weak and submissive, and it is
not overwhelmed by your distress. You can imagine that it truly understands you
and has been through something similar, so it stands on the firm ground of
experience and wisdom.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of soothing breathing rhythm, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If
you do not have much time then just engage with your soothing rhythm breathing (exercise
3) and friendly facial expression. As your mind settles, consider what qualities you would
like your compassionate image to have: maybe complete acceptance of you no matter what;
or maybe you would like your compassionate image to have a deep concern and affection
for you; or a sense of kinship and belonging. For example, if you are a person who feels that
you don’t deserve compassion, think about what kind of image you would need in order to
be helped to feel deserving of love. If you are someone who believes that you don’t feel
understood, then think about the kind of image you need to feel understood. You are
creating a compassionate image that is ideal for you. Sometimes we may try to hide or
suppress our feelings and fantasies, but our ideal compassionate image understands this
struggle because it is so much part of being human. You can imagine your ideal
compassionate image always wanting to help you become more compassionate to yourself
and others, and never criticizing you.
With these thoughts in mind, let’s focus on what your ideal compassionate image would look
like. Would you want it to be old or young? Would it be male or female, or perhaps even
nonhuman, such as an animal, the sea, or light? When you think of your ideal
compassionate image, just notice what comes to mind. As you develop the practice you
may find that, over time, different images come to mind. You don’t have to stick to one
version. Just see what happens and go with what you feel is helpful to you at any given
time. What would your compassionate image sound like? If it was to communicate with you,
what would its tone of voice be like? What tone of voice would you most like to hear? If your
image is humanlike, what are its facial expressions? Notice how it might smile at you or
show concern for you. Are there any colors that are associated with it? With these thoughts
in mind, spend some time imagining your ideal compassionate image—what is perfect for
you in every way; what fits your needs exactly.
Sometimes it can help if you bring to mind your safe place and imagine that you meet your
compassionate image there. Imagine that it is coming toward you—it is coming to meet you,
and you are going toward it. You can sense its pleasure in seeing you. Then imagine it
either standing in front of you or sitting close to you. Focus on the presence of this ideal
compassionate image and the sense of it being with you.
We’re now going to imagine that your compassionate image has certain specific qualities.
Focus first on the sense of kindness and warmth that you feel emanating from this image.
Tune in to your own compassionate facial expression and imagine affectionate feelings
while in the company of this image. Spend a few moments imagining what it would be like if
you felt completely safe with this image. Remember, it doesn’t matter if you do or don’t feel
safe—the main thing is just to imagine what it would be like if you did. Notice the feelings
arising in you if you could feel safe with this compassionate image.
Now focus on its maturity, authority, and confidence. It is not overwhelmed by your pain or
distress; and it is not put off by the strange things that go through your mind, but it may
transmit the understanding that you have a very tricky brain that gives rise to these things.
Spend a few moments imagining being with your ideal compassionate image, which has
these qualities.
Next imagine that your compassionate image has great wisdom that comes through from its
life path and experience. What emanates from this wisdom is a deep desire to be helpful
and supportive. Imagine its wisdom enabling it to truly understand the struggles that you go
through in life—your hopes and fears. It offers wisdom to you. Spend a few moments
imagining being with your ideal compassionate image and feeling this great wisdom
enfolding you.
Now focus on your compassionate image having a very deep commitment to you. Imagine
that, no matter what, your compassionate image is fully committed to supporting you in
becoming more compassionate to yourself, to others, and in coping with life. Imagine that its
acceptance, kindness, and commitment are given freely to you; this is its sole objective, and
there is nothing bad that you could do that would cause it to go away unless you really
wanted it to. If you notice thoughts of not deserving, just bring your attention back to
remembering that you are developing parts of your own mind and that the image you are
creating is an image that is being created from your mind. Spend a few moments imagining
what it feels like when you sense your compassionate image is fully committed to caring
about you and helping you on your life path.
Now, while maintaining your friendly compassionate facial expression and engaging with
your soothing breathing rhythm, imagine your ideal compassionate image saying the
following words to you in as kind and warm a voice as you can imagine, and with a full
commitment to you:
May you find peace and well-being, [say your name in your mind].
Spend some time imagining that your compassionate image is looking at you with deep,
heartfelt kindness and saying these things, genuinely wishing that you are free of suffering,
that you become happy, that you flourish and find peace. Connect with the intention,
warmth, and commitment behind the words. If you like, you can focus on just one or two of
these phrases or make up similar ones that resonate with you.
Then, in your own time, let your compassionate image begin to fade. Always remember that
this is your own imagination at work: you are calling on your inner capacity for compassion,
and opening doors to your own compassionate abilities and feelings and the way that these
can help you. These feelings are accessible to you at any time because they are part of you
and they have come from you. As you learn to notice them and focus on them, they can be
called upon at any time.
Try to remember to practice this each day, or as often as you can, even if it is
just for a short period. Sometimes all we need to do is focus on our
compassionate image and bring it to mind without necessarily going through all
the stages. What is important is to connect to a felt sense of the image; this is
often enough to give us a sense of its presence and a sense of being helped and
supported.
Now some people say, “Well, suppose I encounter a murderer or psychopath,
or find that I myself have a dark side—how could I experience compassion for
that?” But, as we discussed in chapter 4, that is a basic misunderstanding. The
first thing is that the individual you encounter didn’t choose to have a brain that
is capable of psychopathy or murder; nor did you choose to have a brain that
succumbs to darker urges. Second, compassion doesn’t mean that it’s okay to be
harmful to people—it definitely is not. Compassion is not saying, “Well, carry
on then.” Compassion is based on the understanding that people who experience
these tendencies did not choose them. It is the heartfelt desire that the source of
these destructive tendencies inside you or others ceases as you come to see your
interconnectedness with all of life.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of soothing rhythm breathing, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If
you do not have much time, simply engage with your soothing rhythm breathing (exercise 3)
and friendly facial expression. As your mind settles, ask yourself the following questions:
If I was lying on my deathbed and reflecting back on my life, what would I have cherished
and hoped to have found?
It may be useful to drop these questions into your mind without looking for a particular
answer. It is like dropping a pebble into a very deep well. Just drop the question in and
leave it alone. Then let your mind respond in its own language and in its own time.
If you find that the responses to these questions are superficial and relate only to sensory
pleasure and the accumulation of material possessions, then drop the questions in again.
See if you can uncover an inner yearning that conveys a genuine sense of well-being—
something that rises up from a place deep within you, and which might express itself in a
variety of different ways.
Acknowledge this aspiration for genuine happiness—for meaning, wholeness, inner peace,
fulfillment—as a fundamental aspect of who you are. Recognize that this concern for your
own welfare lies at the very core of your being, and simply acknowledge its presence within
you.
And then, with a firm recognition of this yearning for happiness as an essential part of your
being, repeat the following phrases on the out-breath:
May I be happy. …
Exercises like these are used in various traditions, and a key focus is on the
heartfelt wish for suffering to end and joy to arrive. The important point to
realize is that none of us actually chooses to suffer, even though we often behave
in ways that greatly increase our suffering. No one wakes up in the morning and
thinks, “I need to suffer more today.” Sometimes, of course, we believe that if
we suffer, God will love us; or we put ourselves through discomfort because we
know it can help us in the long run (like going to the gym). Or we may suffer
because we work very hard at something that gives our lives meaning—as with
people who suffer for their art or sacrifice themselves for others. But even if we
suffer in these ways, the ultimate goal is always happiness and peace, and, we
would say, connectedness.
If you feel you don’t deserve happiness, however, look at this very carefully
and ask yourself what is behind the fear of having happiness. Similarly, if you
feel that you do not deserve to experience being loved and cared for, look at
what lies behind this belief. Sometimes just by allowing ourselves to be in
contact, or dialogue with, our inner compassionate image, insights can emerge
into how we shut ourselves off from happiness. So often it comes down to a fear
of reaching out and connecting and then being shamed, rejected, and hurt.
Key Points
Whereas mindfulness is about becoming increasingly familiar with the
mind and how it moves, compassion is about cultivating an inner
capacity from which to respond to and alleviate suffering—this is the
second psychology of compassion.
Imagining a safe place activates the soothing system and creates the
conditions for awakening our compassionate capacity.
Method-Acting Techniques
We can learn a lot from these forms of visualization that have existed for
thousands of years. An approach that is also very useful for identifying with
different versions of ourselves comes from training actors. If actors are to be
convincing in their performances, they need to fully inhabit their roles, whether
they’re playing James Bond, a victim of crime, a drug addict, or someone else.
In order to get into the role, they need to immerse themselves in the way that the
character thinks, feels, and acts.2 Instead of focusing on the technical training of
an actor’s voice and body, method acting requires an actor to get in touch with
his or her own deepest emotions so that they can use these authentic feelings and
insights to enrich the inner life of whichever character they are playing. In
addition, method actors need to really understand the point of the role, the
purpose and aim of the character they are trying to create.
It’s this process of connecting to one’s own inner resources that makes
method acting useful for developing a sense of the compassionate self. You can
imagine developing deep compassionate attributes and qualities and even
practice expressing these qualities in your everyday life. If you were an actor
learning to act a particular role, you would pay attention to key elements of your
character and try to embody them yourself. This might be a character who is
angry, depressed, anxious, or happy, joyful, and, of course, compassionate. You
would try to become that character—living it from the inside—at least for a short
while. You might pay attention to the way this character thinks and sees the
world, his postures, his tone of voice, and the kind of things he says.
Actors will also use their memories of times when they have felt certain
things and then try to recall those within themselves. All these techniques can be
used when we’re trying to focus on developing our compassionate self. You can
focus on how much you wish to bring compassion into your life or into the
world. The important point with these exercises, however, is to remember that it
doesn’t matter if you actually feel these qualities in you or not; instead, you
simply try to imagine what it would be like if you had these qualities. You
imagine yourself having these qualities and “feel into them.” In addition, of
course, you can remember times when you did feel compassion and kindness for
others.
Mindfulness will help with the process of “feeling into” the qualities of the
compassionate self. It allows us to pay attention to the visualization process; and,
when we get distracted, mindfulness allows us to gently bring it back into focus.
In addition, in sitting practice, our posture can connect us to a sense of strength
and authority through becoming aware of how our body is held by the vastness
of the earth beneath us, and how our mind can draw strength from this because it
is held in the body just like the body is held by the earth. Whereas mindfulness
connects us with these qualities in an immediate and embodied way, method-
acting techniques can help to bring out these qualities as we make a connection
with them.
Wisdom
The first aspect of wisdom is one you now know: that we just find ourselves
in the flow of life with a set of genes and a very complicated and tricky brain
that evolved over many millions of years. We did not design or choose it.
Furthermore, our sense of self arises from how we have experienced life and the
relationships we were born into—again, we did not choose these. Working with
some of what goes on in our minds—powerful emotions, mood shifts, unwanted
thoughts or images, and painful memories—can be difficult. Our wisdom
understands in a deep way that these things that we did not choose can be at the
root of our suffering. It is the wisdom of no-blaming, just seeing clearly how
things are and choosing to be kind, that becomes key.
The second aspect of wisdom arises from the Buddhist tradition. It involves
seeing that things are not as solid and fixed as they appear. Our thought
processes tend to solidify reality and obscure the fact that everything is fluid and
changing. This is the truth of impermanence—nothing lasts, including the bad
things that happen.
The third aspect of wisdom is based upon our new brain capacity to stand
back, learn, and reflect on our experience. As discussed above, we can become
more aware of what arises in our minds, and discern what we should focus on
and what we should let go. In this context, wisdom means appreciating that we
have a window of opportunity, however small, and we can choose to cultivate
helpful habits and not feed unhelpful ones. Wisdom allows us to understand the
unhelpfulness of self-criticism and to make choices to become more self-
compassionate.
The fourth part of wisdom comes as we learn from life’s journey how to do
things differently or better. Wisdom is the ability to use our learning. So it is
being open to our mistakes and the hurtful things we do combined with the
genuine wish to improve and repair. Wisdom cannot develop without this
capacity for insight into where we go wrong. This means looking at our
difficulties without the avoidance that is born of shame. When we feel ashamed
and critical, we can turn away from what we need to face.
Authority and Strength
Of course the whole point of having this wisdom, sense of authority, and
strength is because at the heart of the compassionate self is the motivation to
relieve suffering. So aligning with that motive is key. This is about taking
responsibility and not turning away from problems but recognizing that,
although we just find ourselves in the flow of our lives and so much of what
happens is not our fault, we can make a commitment to ourselves and others to
work with our experience, perhaps taking small steps at a time. So commitment
is not about blaming or criticizing because that is usually focused on things in
the past, but it is about genuinely wanting to act in ways that are helpful.
Commitment also comes from the mindfulness practice of acceptance—facing
things as they are and being willing to work with our experience as we find it,
rather than being sidetracked into resistance and struggle.
As we cultivate and make contact with our inner sense of wisdom, authority,
strength, and commitment, we recognize that the emotional tone of the whole
endeavor is basic kindness; that is, the heartfelt wish to relieve suffering and the
sources of suffering, to create joy for oneself and others.
In the Mahayana Buddhist tradition, one of the four limitless contemplations
is maitri, which is that sense of opening out toward our inner and outer
environments with friendliness and warmth. Warmth is like an open friendliness;
it is not about being “nice” but about having a genuine desire to be helpful.
Again what is important is our motivation and intention to relieve suffering in a
gentle but firm way even if the feelings do not immediately arise. Creating a
compassionate facial expression and imagining speaking in a warm, friendly
voice can help to engender this quality.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of breathing, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If you do not have
much time, then just engage with your soothing breathing rhythm (exercise 3). Bear in mind
that soothing breathing rhythm is about finding a point of stillness and calm within (see
exercise 3). This is particularly important with the compassionate self because it engenders
that feeling of being grounded on a stable base with a sense of inner authority and security.
Notice the feeling of your body slowing down. Relax your facial muscles, starting with your
forehead and then your cheeks, and let your jaw drop slightly. Allow your mouth to turn
upward into a warm and friendly smile. Then just rest where you are—nothing to do. As we
go through this exercise you may find your mind wandering. If so, do not worry about it; just
gently bring it back to the practice you are doing.
Now, like an actor getting into a role, you are going to use your imagination to create an
image of yourself at your compassionate best. Sometimes it can help to bring to mind a
memory of when you felt very compassionate toward somebody. Recall what was going
through your mind, the feelings of kindness and warmth, and your genuine wish for the
person to get better or do well. It’s important to focus on your compassionate feelings and
not the distress that the other person might have been feeling.
Next, reflect for a few moments about the qualities you would like to have if you were to
develop your compassion more fully. Remember, it doesn’t matter if you don’t feel as if you
are a very compassionate person; the most important thing is to imagine the qualities of a
deeply compassionate person and imagine what it might feel like if you did have them.
Now we’re going to focus on the specific qualities of compassion. Start by imagining that
you have wisdom. Bring to mind your understanding that all of us just find ourselves here in
the flow of our own lives—so many complex factors have shaped who we have become,
and so much of what has happened is beyond our control. See the wisdom of no blame and
the value of seeing things clearly and choosing to be compassionate. Recognize that you
have this wisdom right now—it is present within your life experience as a rich resource. Hold
on to your friendly facial expression and consider your warm voice tone, imagining yourself
expressing wisdom as you speak. For the next few moments, imagine yourself being a wise
and insightful person—open, thoughtful, and reflective.
Next, imagine that from your wisdom comes a sense of authority, strength, and confidence.
Connect to the sense of your own inner authority and dignity in your body posture. Tune in
to your posture, your sense of solidness from your soothing breathing rhythm, and allow
yourself to be held—body like a mountain, breath like a gentle breeze, and mind like the
open sky. Draw strength from the fact that the vastness of the earth holds and supports you.
Notice how you feel when you imagine yourself embodying authority and confidence. While
holding your friendly facial expression and your warm voice tone, for the next few moments,
think about how you would speak in a compassionate way with authority, how you would
move in the world, and how you would express this confidence, maturity, and authority.
Now, on the basis of this confidence, authority, and wisdom, focus on your desire to be
helpful and supportive and your wish for others to be free from suffering and the causes of
suffering, to be happy, and to prosper. Hold your friendly facial expression and consider
your voice tone and how you would speak in a compassionate way with kindness. Then
become aware of any areas of tension or physical pain or emotional reaction to that tension
within you and gently soften around these areas, holding them with kindness. Remember
that your wisdom and strength are there as a support if things feel difficult. And so, for the
next few moments, gently and playfully imagine that you have great kindness and the desire
to be helpful. Notice how there is a certain calmness that comes with kindness and also a
positive pleasurable feeling; it doesn’t have that frenetic feeling of being agitated or
frustrated. Notice how you feel when you imagine having these feelings within you.
And now, on the basis of your wisdom, strength, and kindness, imagine that you have the
courage to face and work through the difficult experiences that may arise. You are willing to
move toward what is difficult, without blaming or criticizing, and you are willing to take
responsibility for your life. For a few moments, imagine that you are such a person,
someone who is deeply committed and responsible for working with your own mind.
Now imagine that you are looking at yourself from the outside. See your facial expressions,
the way you move in the world, and note your motivations to be thoughtful, kind, and wise.
Hear yourself speaking to people and note the compassionate tone in your voice. See other
people relating to you as a compassionate person and see yourself relating to other people
in a compassionate way. For the next few moments, playfully watch yourself as a
compassionate person in the world and others relating to you as such.
The more you practice slowing down and imagining being this kind of person in the world,
the more easily you may find you can access these qualities in you, and the more easily you
will find they can express themselves through you. And now, as a way of concluding this
exercise, let go of trying to visualize and for a few moments, rest without focusing on
anything in particular.
When you come out of this imagery practice, it can be helpful, pleasurable,
and even a bit of fun to walk around as a compassionate self. In other words,
notice how you walk, notice how you talk, notice how you use friendly facial
expressions to greet people and how contact with you makes others feel safe.
Engender a sense of authority and responsibility in creating kindness around
you. You can ask yourself the following questions: How can I take more interest
in people today? How can I be helpful to another human being? How can I be
more mindful of other people’s distress? Even if you sometimes feel that you are
putting on an act, nonetheless take pleasure from the fact that you are activating
a compassionate resource within you. Like learning to play the piano, it can feel
a bit forced and artificial at times because it doesn’t come smoothly, but with
practice it can.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of soothing breathing rhythm, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If
you do not have much time, then just engage with your soothing rhythm breathing (exercise
3). Now imagine that you are identifying with your compassionate self. Bring to mind each of
the qualities of your compassionate self and feel into them with the sense that these
qualities are within you even if just a little. Remember to create a friendly facial expression
and imagine you have a warm voice tone.
While connected to this compassionate mind state, bring to mind someone you care about
—it could be a child, friend, partner, parent, or even an animal. Hold him in your mind’s eye.
Now focus your compassionate feelings on him. Name him in your mind and say the
following phrases slowly on the out-breath:
Do not worry if you can’t remember all of these phrases; just focus on the ones that you can
relate to. The actual words or phrases are not the main issue—what is important is your
heartfelt wish and the flow of feeling.
To enhance this practice, as you breathe out, you can imagine that you send a warm golden
light from your heart that touches your loved one and eases his suffering, bringing him
peace and well-being. Notice the sensations around your heart and your feelings in the
body as you do this. Become aware of the feelings of pleasure and joy that arise in you
when you imagine that he could be happy and free of suffering and find peace and
happiness. So you do not focus too much on the distress he may be experiencing, but
instead on your own kind and loving feelings, and the pleasure you take from his happiness.
When you have finished sending these wishes, let the image of the person you have
imagined fade. Spend a few moments tuning in to the feelings that have arisen in you,
noticing in particular how this feels in your body. Then for a few moments rest without
focusing on anything in particular and then stretch and get up.
Focusing Our Compassionate Self: Compassion for
Oneself
It is helpful to find a way to be compassionate to ourselves because if we are not
able to relate to our own feelings and needs in a kind and empathic way, there
may be little basis from which to relate to others with compassion, especially
strangers and adversaries.
We will now introduce a series of exercises for focusing our compassionate
self in different ways. First, we begin with a general exercise for relating to
ourselves, and then we introduce specific exercises for working with particular
aspects of ourselves. The point here is that once we learn to identify with and
inhabit the compassionate self, we then relate back to the other parts of
ourselves from this compassionate standpoint. With mindfulness practice, we
learn to inhabit the observing mode, standing back and witnessing the flow of
thoughts and feelings rather than being held captive in the bubble of thoughts.
But with compassion we take one step further and connect with the qualities of
compassion that exist within this witnessing mode. It is not just a neutral, cold
observing. We tune in to the qualities of warmth and kindness. Then we relate to
our angry part, anxious part, or self-critical part from this compassionate
perspective.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of settling, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If you do not have
much time, then just engage with your soothing rhythm breathing (exercise 3). Now imagine
that you are identifying with your compassionate self. Bring to mind each of the qualities of
your compassionate self and feel into the qualities within you. Remember to create a
friendly facial expression and imagine you have a warm voice tone.
Now create a picture of yourself in your mind’s eye as if you’re looking at yourself from the
outside. You could imagine that you are watching a video of yourself going about your day.
With the eyes of your compassionate self, watch your ordinary self get up in the morning
and move around your room, and then get on with the day. Notice how this ordinary self is
often troubled by difficult emotions or life circumstances, and how it often feels under stress
and pressure, sometimes lapsing into rumination and worry, perhaps about money or
nagging concerns about relationships or struggling with difficult emotions. Allow yourself to
be in touch with the struggle of the person you’re watching—the ordinary you—but hold to
your position of inner strength and wisdom looking out through the eyes of your
compassionate self with the intention of being kind and helpful.
While holding on to your compassionate self and maintaining your friendly facial expression
and warm voice tone, see yourself in your mind’s eye and imagine directing the following
wishes to yourself:
May you be free of suffering [and say your name—for example it might be: “May you be
free of suffering, Paul,” or “May you be free of suffering, Choden,” really focusing on the
feeling that’s coming from your compassionate self to the self that you see in your mind’s
eye].
You can also do this exercise using the pronoun “I,” thinking “May I be happy, may I be free
of suffering,” and so on. You may wish to try both options and see which one you prefer.
For as long as it feels comfortable, direct these feelings to yourself on the out-breath. Don’t
worry if you can’t remember all the phrases; just focus on the ones you can remember and
which you relate to. If you feel yourself getting pulled by difficult feelings when you generate
compassion for yourself, then come back to resting in the awareness of your compassionate
self. It is very common to experience resistance to feeling compassion for ourselves. It may
be related to all manner of things like feeling we don’t really deserve it, or because it brings
up feelings of sadness or a yearning for closeness. Whatever resistance may arise, just
notice it and mindfully return to the practice. You might even try to be compassionate to the
fact that you are experiencing resistance. When you have finished sending these wishes, let
the image of your ordinary self fade and spend a few moments tuning in to the feelings that
have arisen in you, noticing in particular how this feels in your body. Then rest without
focusing on anything in particular, stretch, and get up.
Self-Compassion Break
In his book The Mindful Path to Self-Compassion, Christopher Germer offers a
very helpful way of contacting and bringing out your compassionate self in
everyday life situations.3 Let’s suppose you have an experience of suffering, like
stress, anxiety, or a low mood, or you have just had an argument. First, notice
this, take a few mindful breaths to ground yourself, and slow down. Then, place
your hand over your heart and say:
Repeat these phrases slowly with a compassionate voice tone and friendly
facial expression. In this way, we first notice and turn toward our difficulty
(rather than away from it). Next, we see that our experience of suffering is part
and parcel of the human condition—we are all in the same boat. Then we focus
on our compassionate intent and feeling. We can do this quick practice any time
during the day when we feel anxious or stressed.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of settling, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If you do not have
much time, then just engage with your soothing breathing rhythm (exercise 3). Now imagine
that you are identifying with your compassionate self by bringing to mind each of its
qualities. Remember to create a friendly facial expression and imagine you have a warm
voice tone.
Now bring to mind a situation in which you felt anxious. Imagine that you are looking at the
anxious part of yourself through the eyes of the compassionate self. You can let an image of
your anxious self appear in front of you, or you can relate to the feeling of this anxious self if
no image appears. Let yourself feel connected to the struggle and agitation of the anxious
self while anchored in the qualities of the compassionate self: your strength is a support for
the agitated, groundless part of the anxious self; your wisdom sees that this anxiety will
change and how thoughts feed it and make it feel very solid and real. Then allow yourself to
feel warmth for this part of you, enfolding it in loving-kindness. Then connect to your sense
of commitment—really wanting to be there for yourself in a way that is constructive and
does not feed rumination and self-recrimination. Imagine how you might like to help, what
you might like to say to this struggling part of you to validate its feelings and to help it come
through this episode.
While holding to your compassionate self and maintaining your friendly facial expression
and warm voice tone, see yourself in your mind’s eye and imagine directing the following
wishes to your anxious self:
The actual words and phrases are secondary; what is important is to connect to the feeling
of compassion flowing from the compassionate self to your anxious self, and if the feelings
do not flow easily, remain connected to your intention to be kind, committed, and so on.
When you have finished sending these wishes, let the image of your anxious self fade and
spend a few moments tuning in to the feelings that may have arisen in you, noticing in
particular how this feels in your body. Then rest without focusing on anything in particular,
stretch, and get up.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of settling, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If you do not have
much time, then just engage with your soothing breathing rhythm (exercise 3). Next,
imagine that you are identifying with your compassionate self by bringing to mind each of its
qualities. Remember to create a friendly facial expression and to imagine you have a warm
tone of voice.
Now bring to mind a situation in which you became angry or the kind of situation in which
you typically become angry. In the beginning, imagine a situation that provokes only mild
anger and frustration. Using the mindfulness skill of noticing and stepping back, look at the
angry part of yourself through the eyes of the compassionate self and sense how painful
anger feels in your mind and body. Look at the facial expression of the angry self. What is
the angry self really angry about? Are there other feelings that it’s covering up, such as
anxiety or sadness? If so, then maybe the compassionate self can explore those feelings as
well. What would really help the angry self find peace? So you develop empathy and
tolerance for your angry self without judging it. Maybe your angry self wants more
recognition or to be more assertive.
Let the pain and frustration of the angry self touch you while remaining anchored in the
qualities of the compassionate self: your wisdom sees how this angry outburst can be
intense and all-consuming like a fire, but it is temporary and will pass; your strength allows
you to remain grounded, holding the space for the angry part and letting it move through
you; your warmth and kindness detect the deeper feelings that anger may be concealing
like fear, sadness, or loneliness; and your commitment allows you to stand by yourself and
develop the courage to go through this experience of anger and relate constructively to it.
While holding to your compassionate self and maintaining your friendly facial expression
and warm tone of voice, see yourself in your mind’s eye and imagine directing the following
wishes to your angry self:
May you be free of the inner turmoil stirring anger and frustration, [say your name].
May you be in touch with the feelings that lie beneath your anger, [say your name].
May your angry self find stability and peace, [say your name].
As with these words and phrases or similar words, let yourself feel the flow of compassion
to your angry self, and if the feelings do not flow so easily, remain connected to your
intention to be kind and committed. Notice what happens to the image of your angry self.
When you have finished sending these wishes, let the image of your angry self fade and
spend a few moments tuning in to the feelings that may have arisen in you, noticing in
particular how this feels in your body. Then rest without focusing on anything in particular,
stretch, and get up.
As with anxiety, keep in mind here that while we want to soften anger, we
are not fighting with it or trying to get rid of it or criticizing ourselves for it. It is
about validating, accepting, and understanding it, but not acting it out, because
that would be unhelpful. Anger, like anxiety, can be very important for us to pay
attention to because these are normal defensive emotions. With compassion we
can transform anger into assertiveness and argue our case. Compassion for anger
doesn’t make us submissive, but wise, focused, and determined.
Also bear in mind that underneath the angry self is usually some
disappointment or threat; for example, you made a mistake and that links to
some memory of being criticized or rejected. The compassionate self reaches
underneath the anger to ascertain the real issue, which is usually a fear of being
shamed, unwanted, and rejected.
If you find yourself getting angry and frustrated in daily-life situations, pause
and engage with your soothing breathing for a few seconds, feel yourself slow
down and become more grounded, and then consciously shift to your
compassionate self, looking at the situation through its eyes. Begin by practicing
in situations that arouse mild anger, and in this way build up your capacity for
dealing with more difficult situations.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of soothing breathing rhythm, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If
you do not have much time, then just engage with your soothing breathing rhythm (exercise
3). Next imagine that you are identifying with your compassionate self by bringing to mind
each of its qualities. Remember to create a friendly facial expression and imagine you have
a warm voice tone.
Bring to mind a situation in which things were tough. Perhaps you were physically unwell or
you were experiencing a bereavement or relationship conflict or you failed to achieve
something that was really important to you. Tune in to the flow of self-critical thoughts and
feelings.
Now imagine that you can see that part of you that does the criticizing—see it in front of you
and notice what form it takes. Does it look a bit like you or something else? The self-critic
can appear in all kinds of different forms. Notice the emotions it is directing at you. Be
curious and note the anger or disappointment or contempt. Keep your friendly smile and try
to see what’s behind all the recriminating thoughts. What is your critic really frightened of?
Does it remind you of anybody? Ask yourself: “Does my critic really have my best interests
at heart? Does it want to see me flourish, be happy, and at peace? Does it give me a
helping hand of encouragement when I struggle?” The answer is likely to be a resounding
“no.” The question that follows is, “Do you want to let it run the show?”
So, just as you felt compassion for your anxious and angry selves, you can do exactly the
same for your critical self. Remember that looking through the eyes of your compassionate
self is your sense of inner authority and the wise part of you that understands. See if you
can hold the critical self with kindness, recognizing that it comes from being threatened or
hurt in the past. Try to connect with the fear that lies behind it. This can be quite challenging
because it can give you a sense of just how much you have been bullied by this critical self
in the past and how you may have lacked an authority to restrain it. But don’t go any faster
or any deeper than you feel comfortable with. Now gently direct the following questions to
your critical self:
Now imagine that you direct a flow of energy toward the critical self that takes the form of
how it would feel if its needs were met. If the self-critical part needs love and attention, for
example, and if it would feel at peace if it received this, then imagine that the flow of energy
takes the form of feeling at peace in whichever way feels best to imagine. As you direct this
flow of energy, you can make the following aspiration:
May you be free of the pain that is causing you to be angry and critical of me.
May I be free of the pain that is causing me to be angry and critical of myself.
As you say these words and phrases, or similar words, imagine a flow of compassion
toward the self-critical part; and if the feelings do not flow so easily, then focus on the
following intentions: the wisdom that sees through the self-criticism and appreciates how we
are all caught up in the flow of life and undergo difficult challenges; the strength that holds
and contains the anguish of the self-critical mind; the warmth that softens and connects to
its underlying needs; and the courage to meet those needs rather than be drawn into a self-
critical spiral.
When you have finished, let the image of your critical self fade and spend a few moments
tuning in to the feelings that have arisen in you, noticing in particular how this feels in your
body. Then rest without focusing on anything in particular, stretch, and get up.
This practice is derived from a Tibetan Buddhist practice that can be traced
back thousands of years, with the idea that we “feed” our demons—that is,
satisfy the needs they reflect—rather than fight with them.7
When you find yourself being sucked into a spiral of self-criticism in daily-
life situations, pause and engage with your soothing breathing rhythm for a few
seconds, slow yourself down, and then consciously identify with your
compassionate self. Then look at your self-critical mind through the eyes of your
compassionate self. Consciously connect to the needs underlying the self-critical
stance and imagine meeting those needs in the way described in the exercise
above. If we make efforts to work with our self-critic, this will soften it, which in
turn helps us become gentler and more self-compassionate.8
Compassionate Behavior
Compassionate behavior includes a wide range of activities and builds up the
feeling and commitment of the compassionate self. Try to do one compassionate
act each day, something you normally wouldn’t do. When you do this act, really
focus on your intention and the feeling of compassion in doing the act. It could
be a random act of kindness such as making a cup of tea for somebody, helping a
work colleague, spending quality time with your children, or helping out your
next-door neighbor. There is increasing evidence that developing sensitivity and
compassion for others actually helps us feel better too.
Also try to carry out one compassionate act for yourself each day. Remember
that compassion is not about doing things that are easy or self-indulgent like
having that extra piece of chocolate cake. A compassionate act might be
spending time preparing a healthy meal for yourself rather than a quick
microwave one, or taking time out to do some physical exercise.
Key Points
In this chapter we have looked at how to harness our motives, goals, and
sense of self in order to create a compassionate self.
Aspiring
[I]t can feel like what we are really saying is, “May all beings have
happiness, and may they all be free from suffering—but really only those
I like and not those I dislike.” We might sincerely love “all beings” in a
general way when we’re sitting on our meditation cushions, but actual, or
even imagined, encounters with real people show us with unfailing
honesty where we get stuck.2
Being open and honest about this is all part of the process. What is important
here is to become aware of our anger, or that gut-level resistance, revulsion, or
prejudice, without running away from it and without condemning ourselves or
justifying it. This is where mindfulness is important. We can tune in to how
these reactions feel in our body so we become thoroughly acquainted with these
habits of resistance and holding. We do not have to pretend to be compassionate
or go on some witch-hunt to force ourselves with a “must, should, or ought”
because that will achieve little. Instead, we can learn to hold our resistances
kindly and remain connected to our intention: “At this moment, I cannot open
my heart to this person who hurt me, but I form the aspiration that one day I will
be able to open my heart more fully than today.” And remember, the first step to
compassion is simply to understand that even our worst enemy does not want to
suffer; they did not choose to be here with the brain and set of values that they
have.
It is important to be clear at this point what we mean by wishing our enemies
well. Matthieu Ricard has pointed out that if we are confronted by a tyrant or
torturer, or somebody who is doing harm, then this is not about wishing them to
be happy by continuing with their bad behavior.3 Instead, compassion is wishing
that the root cause of what is driving them to behave in destructive and harmful
ways would cease. It is also based on the wisdom that cultivating anger and
hatred toward an enemy hurts us and does not address the root cause of the
situation.
Dissolving
A key observation of the Buddha’s was that the more we live our lives
simply following our tendencies to go for what we want, avoid what we do not
want or like, and tune out of what does not interest us, the more our inner world
starts to contract around a tight, embattled “me,” and the more we suffer. We all
know that sensation of going about our daily lives feeling stressed and
preoccupied, with a tight knot of contraction in our bodies as things start to close
in. But, as we have seen in previous chapters, there is no blame in this; we are
evolved to be like this sometimes, so it is not our fault. But of course, it is our
responsibility to do something about this condition because we are a species with
a new brain that gives us a capacity for awareness and insight that no other
animal has, and it’s from this that we develop the wisdom not to be a slave to our
evolved, socially constructed minds.
So bringing to mind the various categories of people we mentioned above,
we work with each in a vivid and real way. We bring a friend to mind and notice
our patterns of attachment and approval, thinking about what we like about them
and becoming aware of our opinions, feelings, and bodily sensations as we do
this; then we think about an adversary, bringing to mind an individual who
pushes our buttons and noticing the things that irritate us, and what we do not
like about them. We then do the same for a neutral person, thinking perhaps of a
bus driver or the person who serves us cappuccinos every day at the café.
Now we consciously shift our perspective and think about how other people
see and feel about these very same people. To someone at her work, the person
who is your friend might be seen as hostile and aggressive, and she might well
be the object of hatred. Likewise, you may see your adversary in the eyes of
their family, to whom she or he might be adorable. Then we see the neutral
person from the point of view of someone who loves them. What this
immediately reveals is that the way we perceive people may have more to do
with how they behave toward us, rather than an intrinsic quality within them. It
is more to do with us and our perceptions than it is to do with them. Again, we
are not trying to force anything here or wring out some feeling of compassion.
All we are doing is acknowledging that how we feel is related to how we see
things—it is to do with us. Now this is empowering.
Equalizing
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of soothing breathing rhythm, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If
you do not have much time, then just engage with your soothing breathing rhythm (exercise
3). Now imagine that you are identifying with your compassionate self. Bring to mind each of
the qualities of your compassionate self—wisdom, strength, warmth, and commitment—and
imagine that these qualities are present within you. Remember to create a friendly facial
expression and imagine you have a warm voice tone.
Now bring to mind someone you hold dear and imagine that she is sitting in front of you or
going about her daily business. This can be a visual image or a felt sense of her being
present. This might be a parent, child, partner, or even an animal for whom you feel a
natural flow of love and care. Now think of a time when this person (or animal) was going
through a difficult phase. Notice how you feel a sense of concern based on your feelings of
tenderness and care, and how there is a natural movement of compassion, wanting to reach
out and help alleviate her suffering.
While holding to your compassionate self and maintaining your friendly facial expression
and warm voice tone, imagine directing the following heartfelt wishes to this person:
Connect to the flow of compassion toward your loved one and pay attention to the feelings
that arise in you when you focus on your heartfelt wish for her to be happy and free from
suffering. If the feelings do not flow easily, then remain connected to your intention to be
kind, supportive, and committed.
Now shift perspective and reflect for a moment on how it may be very natural for you to feel
love and care for this person, but to someone at work, for example, your loved one might be
seen as hostile and aggressive and may even be the object of loathing. And then reflect on
how, for the vast majority of people, your loved one is merely part of a faceless crowd. So
you see how your feelings arise out of your particular relationship; they are not qualities
intrinsic to that person.
And now reflect that just like you and your loved one, the people who do not like her and the
people who are indifferent to her all want to be happy and free from suffering. In this respect
they are all equal. Then let the image of the loved one fade, and spend a few moments
tuning in to the feelings that may have arisen in you, noticing in particular how this feels in
your body.
Now think of someone who you neither like nor dislike, but have some form of contact with
on a daily basis. It might be a bus driver, the person who serves you coffee as you walk to
work, a classmate, or someone you see on the train every morning. Bring to mind an actual
person. Think that, just like you, this person has dreams, hopes, and fears. Just like you,
this person finds herself in the flow of life and struggles with her emotions, life
circumstances, and setbacks. Just like you, this person struggles with feelings of anxiety
and anger and self-critical thoughts; she is hurt by rejection and boosted by love.
Now imagine this person facing suffering in some way: perhaps dealing with conflict at work,
struggling with addiction or depression, or feeling lonely and unloved. Then allow your heart
to feel tenderness and concern for this person and make the following heartfelt aspirations:
Notice how you feel when you express these wishes. Perhaps there is a natural flow of care
and concern, or perhaps you feel indifferent or even irritated by the exercise. If you notice
yourself feeling shut down, irritated, or resistant, simply be curious about this and notice
where you feel this in your body. Is there tightness in your face, jaw, or shoulders, or tension
and contraction in some other part of your body? Try to be gentle and honest, not
suppressing the emotions you are feeling. Try looking “from the balcony,” so to speak, as an
observer of how your threat and compassion systems are clashing in some way. Then
affirm your intention that although you cannot open up to this person right now, you make
the wish that one day you may open your heart more fully.
Now shift perspective and think about how this person to whom you feel indifferent loves
and cares for some people; there are people who look forward to seeing her when she
comes home from work; there are things in her life that she cherishes. In this way, reflect
that your indifference or neutrality is about you and the way you see things; it is not intrinsic
to her.
And now reflect that just like you, this person wants to be happy; and just like you, this
person wants to be free of suffering and pain. Just like you, she wants to be loved, safe, and
healthy; and just like you, she does not want to be despised, lonely, or depressed. Let the
poignancy of this person touch you. Then let the image of this person fade and spend a few
moments tuning in to the feelings that may have arisen in you, noticing in particular how this
feels in your body.
Now think of someone you dislike, and who may have done you some harm, someone who
is an adversary or competitor, or someone you know but have little time or regard for. Bring
a particular person to mind and imagine that he is present in front of you, focusing on the felt
sense of his presence. Despite what this person has done, just like you, he has hopes and
aspirations for his life. Just like you, he finds himself in the flow of life with a complex brain
and a difficult array of emotions that pull him this way and that. Just like you, this person
struggles with feelings of anxiety and anger and self-critical thoughts.
Now imagine this person facing suffering in some way, perhaps dealing with conflict at
home or at work, struggling with addiction or depression, or feeling lonely and unloved.
Maybe you can even see that one of the reasons he is difficult is because inside he is
suffering; he may be insecure and angry at the way his life is. Then allow your heart to feel
tenderness and concern for this person and make the following heartfelt wishes:
Notice how you feel when you make these wishes. Is there a natural flow of tenderness and
care toward this person, or does your heart feel contracted and resentful, not really wanting
this person to be happy and free of suffering? Simply notice how you are feeling—there is
no right or wrong way to feel. Be curious and tune in to how you are feeling in your body—is
there tightness in your face, jaw, or shoulders, or tension and contraction in some other part
of your body? Maybe you feel the very opposite of compassion, and that is completely okay.
Just affirm your intention that one day you may open your heart more fully than today.
Now shift your perspective and reflect that other people might see your adversary in a very
different light. He might be adored by some even though you cannot stand the sight of him.
He might be a loving parent at home and very tender with animals. In this way, reflect that
your feelings and reactions may have a lot more to do with you than they have to do with
him. This does not mean to say that you have to condone his negative actions. If you find
this step too difficult, then return to the aspiration stage and aspire to one day see past your
initial reactions and wish him well.
And now, once again, reflect that just like you, this person wants to be happy; and just like
you, this person wants to be free of suffering and pain. Just like you, this person wants to be
loved, safe, and healthy; and just like you, he does not want to be despised, lonely, or
depressed. Let the humanity of this person touch you. In essence, he is just like you. Then
let the image of this person fade and spend a few moments tuning in to the feelings that
may have arisen in you, noticing in particular how this feels in your body.
Now bring to mind the three types of people you have been working with—someone close,
someone you feel indifferent toward, and someone who is difficult. Recall that they all share
the same basic yearning to be happy and free from suffering; they are all actors in the flow
of life. In this respect, they are exactly the same. Now contemplate people you know, going
through them person by person. Begin with friends and then move on to people you have
less connection with such as those who serve you coffee or sell you the morning newspaper
as you walk to work. Then gradually open this up to include adversaries and those you find
difficult. Imagine that, just like you, these people want happiness and don’t want suffering;
just like you, these people do not want stress; just like you, these people want safety and
ease; just like you, they want to be loved. The more personal you make it, the more
powerfully it will move you. Now gradually expand your awareness to take in other people
who live or work near you, those in your neighborhood and your town, those who live in the
same country and continent, and finally all living beings everywhere. And now, imagining all
beings everywhere, you can conclude with the aspiration of the four limitless
contemplations:
May all living beings be happy and create the causes of happiness.
May they all be free from suffering and the causes of suffering.
May they all experience great joy and well-being untainted by suffering.
Focus mainly on your heartfelt wishes flowing out in all directions and becoming more and
more expansive. And then foster a sense of appreciation for all these countless living beings
upon whom our lives depend in so many ways, in this way seeing life as an interconnected
web. Then let the visualization fade and spend a few moments tuning in to the feelings that
may have arisen in you, noticing in particular how this feels in your body. Then rest, without
focusing on anything in particular; stretch, and get up.
Self-Preoccupation
Self-Preoccupation
Opening our heart in this way is not easy. It challenges our deeply ingrained
instinct to place “me” at the center of our world and only to be concerned with
ourselves and those who are close to us. We might have run into this tendency
when we experienced resistance to widening our circle of compassion in the last
two exercises. For this reason, we need additional skills to address this tendency.
A classic Mahayana Buddhist text called The Seven Points of Mind Training
says that all compassion training comes down to one thing—overcoming self-
centeredness and focusing instead on the welfare of others. It is referred to as the
sacred mystery that leads to true happiness.
It is important, however, to clarify exactly what is meant by self-
centeredness. It does not mean that we should not have an ego. In fact, a strong
and healthy ego is necessary to live effectively in the world and to undertake the
path of compassionate mind training. It also does not mean that we should not be
concerned with our own happiness. As we have seen, self-compassion is
necessary both for our own well-being and as the basis of compassion for others.
What we are talking about here is the process of self-preoccupation—being
sucked into habitual tendencies to grasp at things we like, push away things we
do not like, and ignore what does not interest us. But, as we have seen in earlier
chapters, we are set up by evolution to grasp at things we need and avoid things
that are threatening. It is not our fault that our minds work in this way. The issue
here is not so much that it is wrong or bad to have a sense of self or to
experience emotions like anger, anxiety, desire, and craving. The issue is more
about how much we choose to feed these tendencies once we become aware of
them. We experience many different kinds of impulses and emotional tendencies
moving through our minds, none of which are our design or fault; but given our
new-brain propensities, we have the capacity to choose what to focus our energy
on. This is a central theme of this book. The key point is that if these tendencies
are left unchecked, the mind can solidify around its defenses so that our energies
become inwardly focused and everything is about “me” and what “I” want or do
not want.
This is especially the case with emotional wounds and early life pain. Our
minds can contract around painful feelings and experiences as a defensive
strategy, and we can end up shutting feelings out that threaten our sense of
stability and control. In this way, we can become deeply defensive and isolated
people—defended against our emotions and armored against people and
situations that threaten to trigger these emotions. We can find ourselves
inhabiting an increasingly contracted world with very clear likes and dislikes
that relate to how we like to feel, what we like to do, and who we like to spend
time with. This is the deeper meaning of dukkha as taught by the Buddha.
Practicing Tonglen
We have laid the foundations for doing this practice in the preceding practice
chapters. The soothing breathing rhythm helps us to slow down and bring the
mind back to the body, in this way grounding us in the moment. Breathing is
important because it is the basis for visualizing suffering coming in through the
in-breath and relief from suffering going out with the out-breath. Furthermore,
we do the practice from the perspective of our compassionate self. This is very
important. If we do it from the point of view of our everyday, fallible, and
limited selves, we could feel that it is all too much. So we identify with the
compassionate self and bring to mind its qualities of wisdom, strength, warmth,
and commitment.
We begin the practice of tonglen by engaging with the pain and difficulty in
our own experience. Throughout this practice section, we need to start with self-
compassion for the practice of compassion to be authentic. Just as we did in the
previous chapter, we work with ourselves in a general sense, and then we work
with particular aspects of ourselves that cause us difficulties, such as the anxious
self, the angry self, and the critical self. Afterward, we move on to doing tonglen
for others; we start again with those who are close to us, relating to a mild
difficulty at first, and then we move on to working with strangers and
adversaries, and finally opening the practice out to all beings everywhere.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of soothing breathing rhythm, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If
you do not have much time, then just engage with your soothing breathing rhythm (exercise
3).
Now imagine that you are stepping into and identifying with your compassionate self. Bring
to mind each of the qualities of your compassionate self—wisdom, strength, warmth, and
commitment—and imagine that these qualities are fully present within you. Remember to
create a friendly facial expression and imagine you have a warm voice tone.
Imagine that directly in front of you is the ordinary part of you that is struggling, perhaps
feeling lonely, fearful, misunderstood, angry, or troubled by physical illness or grief. As you
look toward your ordinary self and become aware of the suffering you’ve been carrying, pay
attention to the detail of your experience, almost as if you are watching a film of yourself
going about your day. Let the pain and conflict of your ordinary self touch you and hold it
with a warm and compassionate concern. Be curious and interested in what you are going
through without judging or condemning it. If you notice any resistance to opening up to
yourself in this way, just become aware of this resistance and hold it gently in your
awareness.
Now consider that the suffering of the “ordinary you” takes the form of a dark cloud and with
each in-breath, imagine that you breathe it in. As the cloud of suffering enters your being,
imagine that it loosens the tight knot of self-contraction around your heart, revealing the
wisdom and compassion at the center of your being. As you exhale, imagine that you freely
give out understanding, joy, and kindness, in the form of light, to the suffering part of you.
Continue this giving and receiving with each breath for as long as you like. If you find
yourself going numb, blanking out, or not being able to connect, then make this the focus of
your practice, breathing this in on the in-breath and breathing your release from this on the
out-breath. However, always go gently and do not force yourself if it causes upset.
If you find it difficult to imagine a dark cloud, or if this feels too heavy or literal, then practice
in a more feeling-oriented way. While rooted in your compassionate self, imagine being in
contact with the pain of your ordinary self, and then, on the in-breath, focus on opening up
to this pain and letting it touch your heart, drawing it toward you rather than pushing it away.
Then imagine that as this pain touches your heart, it transforms—a bit like hot air being
transformed into cool air by an air conditioner. So you are opening up on the in-breath,
opening up on the out-breath, with no sense of anything getting stuck. There is no need to
visualize too ardently—just set up the process and trust that the breathing does the work.
What is important is the intention of drawing suffering toward you and breathing out release
from suffering on the out-breath, and then trusting that this process runs by itself.
As you continue the practice, imagine that the ordinary part of you is gradually relieved of
suffering and filled with well-being and joy. Each time you conclude, consider that the
“ordinary you” is freed of some of the burden of its pain and distress and is more able to
tolerate and work through what remains. Any pain you take in never stays there because it
is always transformed into light or joy. Now let go of visualizing and just rest without any
focus. If you notice any feelings of well-being or spaciousness, tune in to where you feel
them in the body and allow yourself to appreciate and rest in these feelings. Then rest
without any focusing on anything in particular, stretch, and get up.
You can work with tonglen for yourself in this general way and then you can
focus on specific aspects of yourself that you may be struggling with, such as
your anxious self, your angry self, and your critical self. Consequently, this
practice follows on directly from the practices of the compassionate self we
introduced in the previous chapter.
Begin by settling into a posture that is comfortable yet alert, and then follow the mindfulness
stages of soothing breathing rhythm, grounding, resting, and breath support (exercise 6). If
you do not have much time, then just engage with your soothing rhythm breathing (exercise
3).
Now imagine that you are identifying with your compassionate self. Bring to mind each of
the qualities of your compassionate self—wisdom, strength, warmth, and commitment—and
imagine that these qualities are fully present within you. Remember to create a friendly
facial expression and imagine you have a warm voice tone.
Imagine that sitting in front of you is someone in your life you know to be suffering. Bring to
mind the details of his appearance and what he is going through, opening yourself to this
person’s pain and letting it touch you. Be curious and interested in what he is going through
without judging or condemning it. Then form a strong intention to release the person from
his suffering and its causes.
Now imagine breathing in the other person’s suffering in the form of a dark cloud and
visualize it being drawn into your heart region, where it dissolves the tight knot of
contraction in your heart and reveals the fullness of your compassionate potential.
Remember that all the suffering gets transformed in your heart region; none of it gets stuck
in there. As you breathe out, imagine that you are sending the other person all your healing
love, warmth, energy, confidence, and joy in the form of brilliant light. Again, if you find the
image of a dark cloud too strong, then focus on the flow of feeling—being aware of the
person’s pain, opening up to it on the in-breath, letting it touch you, and opening out on the
out-breath, giving out feelings of spaciousness, loving-kindness, and care.
Continue this practice of “giving and receiving” with each breath for as long as you wish. If
you find yourself feeling blocked or going numb, then shift your focus to these feelings in
yourself and make them the focus of the practice, breathing in for yourself and all other
people in a similar situation. If this still feels difficult then go back to focusing on soothing
breathing rhythm and resting in your compassionate self, bringing to mind the qualities of
the compassionate self.
At the end of the practice, consider that your compassion has dissolved all of the person’s
suffering and its causes, filling him with peace and happiness. If you notice any feelings of
well-being or spaciousness in yourself, tune in to where you feel them in your body and
allow yourself to appreciate these feelings. Then rest without focusing on anything in
particular, stretch, and get up.
* * *
As your tonglen practice becomes stronger and more stable, you can
gradually imagine others who are suffering—colleagues, patients, relatives, or
even strangers—and practice taking in and transforming their suffering and
giving them your happiness, clarity, understanding, forgiveness, and love. The
tonglen practice can follow on from the practice of widening our circle of
compassion (exercise 18, above). It is particularly useful when we run into
resistance to opening up to strangers and adversaries because it provides a way
to directly work with this resistance.
An important aspect of tonglen is to imagine that when we breathe in the
suffering of someone, we imagine that we also breathe in the suffering of all
other people who suffer in a similar way. For example, if a loved one is suffering
from grief and loss, we then imagine that we take in the grief and loss of both
our loved one and all others who suffer in this way. This has the effect of
expanding our field of awareness to include other people in similar situations.
But it is always important to start with a specific person or situation and then
expand outward to others; otherwise the practice can become too abstract.
Conclusion
Tonglen is about reconnecting to life. We are part of life and yet we easily cut
ourselves off from it. There are many reasons why we do this, but disconnecting
in this way hurts because we are going against the truth of being connected; and
yet opening up to life and relating holds the potential for being hurt too. So
tonglen invites us to take a risk. It invites us to open up to feeling the pain—and
the joy—of being alive. It also invites us to let the natural energy of loving-
kindness and care flow in response to the pain we experience. This is the true
meaning of the two psychologies of compassion. So what it brings us back to is
the fact that opening up to pain and responding with love and care are natural
processes of being alive; we are not introducing anything new. We are simply
acknowledging the reality of being part of an interconnected process called life.
The breathing is a symbol of this process: life flows in and life flows out and we
have the choice whether to be in accord with it or to resist, but if we resist, it
comes with a price—we suffer.
Key Points
The two key principles for widening our circle of compassion are
identification and appreciation.
Mindfulness
Kabat-Zinn, J. (2005) Coming to Our Senses: Healing Ourselves and the World
Through Mindfulness. London: Piatkus.
The Dalai Lama is the spiritual head of Buddhism, which can be seen as both
a spiritual approach and a basic psychology. Buddhism is particularly useful for
its psychology and insights built up over thousands of years of meditation and
introspective observation.
Other Books
CDs
Some useful CDs that will guide you are
Websites
Compassion: Bridging Practice and Science
http://www.compassion-traning.org
From 2011 to 2013, a group of international researchers and practitioners
came together under the leadership of the Max Planck Institute’s Professor Tania
Singer to develop an internationally available resource on compassion. The
result was a very large e-book that is free to download at the website provided
above.
Compassionate Mind Foundation (UK)
http://www.compassionatemind.co.uk
In 2007, Paul Gilbert and a number of colleagues set up a charity called the
Compassionate Mind Foundation. On this website, you’ll find various essays and
details of other sites that look at different aspects of compassion. You’ll also find
a lot of material that you can use for meditation on compassion. Foundations
using the basic model outlined here are now being developed around the world.
Compassionate Wellbeing
http://www.compassionatewellbeing.com
This is run by Hannah Gilbert for the dissemination and teaching of
compassion in different contexts.
Compassionate Mind Foundation (USA)
http://www.mindfulcompassion.com
This is run by Dr. Dennis Tirch. You will find various downloads that can be
used for guided practice and meditation.
Center for Compassion and Altruism Research and Education
http://www.stanford.edu/group/ccare/cgi-bin/wordpress/
This center provides extensive information with lecture and videos on all
facets of compassion—a truly excellent resource.
Mindfulness Association
http://www.mindfulnessassociation.net
Choden is one the founders of the Mindfulness Association, a nonprofit
organization that has been set up to provide secular mindfulness, compassion,
and insight training. Its compassion training draws on the evolutionary matter of
Paul Gilbert, and it offers teacher training in mindfulness. It works in association
with the University of Aberdeen, offering a Master’s program in Mindfulness
Studies (MSc).
Mind & Life Institute
http://www.mindandlife.org
The Dalai Lama has formed relationships with Western scientists to develop
a more compassionate way of living. More information on this can be found on
this website.
Mindful Self-Compassion
http://www.mindfulselfcompassion.org
This is run by Christopher Germer. You will find various downloads that can
be used for meditation.
Samye Ling
http://www.samyeling.org
Samye Ling is a traditional Buddhist monastery in the Scottish Borders. It
runs various retreats (including three-year ones) and provides for those who are
interested in a Buddhist way of life and study. Choden studied here for many
years. This is also where the MSc in Mindfulness and Compassion is run in
liaison with the University of Aberdeen.
Self-Compassion
http://www.self-compassion.org
This is run by Dr. Kristin Neff, one of the leading researchers into self-
compassion. You will find various downloads that can be used for meditation.
Breathing
For more information about breathing and how breathing affects our bodies,
visit:
http://www.coherence.com
^2 The Dalai Lama (1995) The Power of Compassion. London: Thorsons; and
The Dalai Lama (2001) An Open Heart: Practising Compassion in
Everyday Life (ed. N. Vreeland). London: Hodder & Stoughton. See also
Geshe Tashi Tsering (2008) The Awakening Mind: The Foundation of
Buddhist Thought: Volume 4. London: Wisdom Press.
^3 Ibid.
^4 There are some very useful and easily accessible books available now for
thinking about mindfulness. Probably the best known is Kabat-Zinn, J.
(2005) Coming to Our Senses: Healing Ourselves and the World Through
Mindfulness. New York: Piatkus. Another popular one with many useful
exercises is Siegel, R.D. (2010) The Mindfulness Solution: Everyday
Practices for Everyday Problems. New York: Guilford. Some books also
link mindfulness and compassion in very interesting and important ways,
e.g., Germer, C. (2009) The Mindful Path to Self Compassion: Freeing
Yourself from Destructive Thoughts and Emotions. New York: Guilford.
Another book that does this is Siegel, D. (2010) Mindsight: Transform Your
Brain with the New Science of Kindness. New York: Oneworld.
^9 My research unit has become very interested in the concept of the fear of
compassion—Gilbert, P., McEwan, K., Matos, M. and Rivis, A. (2011)
Fears of compassion: Development of three self-report measures,
Psychology and Psychotherapy, 84, 239–255. doi:
10.1348/147608310X526511; and Gilbert, P., McEwan, K., Gibbons, L.,
Chotai, S., Duarte, J. and Matos, M. (2011) Fears of compassion and
happiness in relation to alexithymia, mindfulness and self-criticism,
Psychology and Psychotherapy, 84, 239–255. doi:
10.1348/147608310X526511.
^10 Geshe Tashi Tsering (2008) The Awakening Mind: The Foundation of
Buddhist Thought, Volume 1. Boston: Wisdom Press.
1. Waking Up
^1 Geshe Tashi Tsering (2005) The Four Noble Truths: The Foundation of
Buddhist Thought, Volume 1. Boston: Wisdom Publications.
^2 Ibid.
^5 Ibid.
^7 Once again Bodian and Landaw’s Buddhism for Dummies offers an excellent
and short review of this approach. For more detailed explorations see Geshe
Tashi Tsering (2008) The Awakening Mind: The Foundation of Buddhist
Thought, Volume 4. Boston: Wisdom Publications.
^11 A very accessible and fascinating book if you’re new to the area would be
Gerhardt, S. (2007) Why Love Matters. London: Routledge. For more
comprehensive coverage of the power of relationships to affect us in our
bodies and brains Paul’s favourites are Cozolino, L. (2007) The
Neuroscience of Human Relationships: Attachment and the Developing
Social Brain. New York: Norton; and Cozolino, L. (2008) The Healthy
Aging Brain: Sustaining Attachment, Attaining Wisdom. New York:
Norton.
^12 Cacioppo, J.T. and Patrick, W. (2008) Loneliness: Human Nature and the
Need for Social Connection. New York: Norton
^13 Zimbardo, P. (2008) The Lucifer Effect: How Good People Turn Evil.
London: Rider.
^16 Pinker, S. (2011) The Better Angels of Our Nature: The Decline of Violence
in History and Its Causes. New York: Allen Lane.
^17 Gerhardt, S. (2010) The Selfish Society: How We All Forgot to Love One
Another and Made Money Instead. London: Simon & Schuster. See also
Twenge, J. (2010) The Narcissism Epidemic: Living in the Age of
Entitlement. London: Free Press.
^18 Twenge, J.M., Gentile, B., DeWall, C.N., Ma, D., Lacefield, K. and Schurtz,
D.R. (2010) Birth cohort increases in psychopathology among young
Americans, 1938–2007: A cross-temporal meta-analysis of the MMPI.
Clinical Psychology Review, 30, 145–154. Part of this may be because we
are becoming more self-centered and less community oriented.
^3 Nesse, R.M. and Williams, G.C. (1995) Evolution & Healing. London:
Weidenfeld & Nicolson. This is an excellent book to introduce you to the
basic concepts of how evolution can cause us all kinds of problems rather
than perfecting wellness. Professor Nesse has been at the forefront of this
work, and you can find out much more if you visit his website:
http://www.personal.umich.edu/~nesse/.
^4 Sapolsky, R. M. (2004) Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers. St. Martin’s Press.
^6 If you are interested in looking more deeply into the various different
interacting parts of the brain, then look up Nunn, K., Hanstock, T. and
Lask, B. (2008) Who’s Who of the Brain: A Guide to Its Inhabitants, Where
They Live and What They Do. London: Jessica Kingsley. And if you’re
thinking about how researchers are looking at brain processes in terms of
some of the Buddhist concepts, then you may well enjoy Hanson, R. and
Mendius, R. (2009) Buddha’s Brain: The Practical Neuroscience of
Happiness, Love, and Wisdom. Oakland, CA: New Harbinger. If you want
to find out more about how the evolved brain gives rise to and influences
our emotions, then a good read is LeDoux, J. (1998) The Emotional Brain.
London: Weidenfeld & Nicolson.
^8 Simon-Thomas, E.R., Godzik, J., Castle, E., Antonenko, O., Ponz, A., Kogan,
A. and Keltner, D.J. (2011) An fMRI study of caring vs. self-focus during
induced compassion and pride. Social Cognitive and Affective
Neuroscience, Advance Access, 6 September, p. 1. doi:
10.1093/scan/nsr045. There is now also some excellent research work
showing that the kind of self-identities we pursue can have quite a major
impact on our well-being and quality of relationships. Crocker, J. and
Canevello, A. (2008) Creating and undermining social support in
communal relationships: The role of compassionate and self-image goals.
Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 95, 555–575.
^14 Taylor, C. (1989) Sources of the Self: The Making of the Modern Identity.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press.
^15 McGregor, I. and Marigold, D.C. (2003) Defensive zeal and the uncertain
self: What makes you so sure? Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 85, 838–852.
^16 Leary, M. (2003) The Curse of the Self: Self-Awareness, Egotism, and the
Quality of Human Life. New York: Oxford University Press. See also
Leary, M.R. and Tangney, J.P. (eds) (2002) Handbook of Self and Identity.
New York: Guilford.
^17 Shame is one of the most problematic personal experiences because we can
be very aggressive to avoid shame, but also shame can make us very
submissive, appeasing, depressed, and anxious. The reason is because
shame threatens rejection and even persecution by others, and these, from
an evolutionary point of view, are serious. Indeed shame can throw our
brains into an intense sense of threat. You can read more about shame in
Tracy, J.L., Robins, R.W. and Tangney, J.P. (eds) (2007) The Self-
Conscious Emotions: Theory and Research. New York: Guilford. And see
Gilbert, P. (2007) The evolution of shame as a marker for relationship
security. In Tracy, J.L., Robins, R.W. and J.P. Tangney (eds) The Self-
Conscious Emotions: Theory and Research (pp. 283–309). New York:
Guilford.
^18 McGregor, I. and Marigold, D.C., Defensive zeal and the uncertain self (see
note 14).
^19 Leary, M. The Curse of the Self; see also Leary and Tangney, Handbook of
Self and Identity.
^21 Simon-Thomas et al. An fMRI study of caring vs. self-focus during induced
compassion and pride.
^22 Robin Dunbar has been at the forefront of helping us understand the
evolutionary pressures that led to the development of this fantastic new
brain which can think, reason, anticipate, ruminate, etc. It turns out that the
pressure was actually social and that much of it was to do with developing
affiliative and cooperative relationships. A good introduction to some of
this can be found in Dunbar, R.I.M. (2010) The social role of touch in
humans and primates: Behavioral function and neurobiological
mechanisms. Neuroscience and Biobehavioral Reviews, 34, 260–268. doi:
10.1016/j.neubiorev.2008.07.001.
^23 Simon-Thomas et al. An fMRI study of caring vs. self-focus during induced
compassion and pride.
^24 Cacioppo, J.T. and Patrick, W. (2008) Loneliness: Human Nature and the
Need for Social Connection. New York: Norton.
3. Emotional Systems
^1 Haidt, J. (2001) The emotional dog and its rational tail: A social intuitionist
approach to moral judgment. Psychological Review, 108, 814–834. This is a
very helpful review of the complexity of our emotions.
^3 Two books that explain why our emotions are tricky for us and how
mindfulness can be helpful are Siegel, R.D. (2010) The Mindfulness
Solution: Everyday Practices for Everyday Problems. New York: Guilford;
and Siegel, D. (2010) Mindsight: Transform Your Brain with the New
Science of Kindness. New York: Oneworld.
^5 Ibid.
^8 For more on the compassionate mind approach to anger with many exercises
see Kolts, R. (2012) The Compassionate Mind Approach to Managing Your
Anger: Using Compassion Focused Therapy. London: Constable &
Robinson.
^10 Gilbert, P., Clarke, M., Kempel, S., Miles, J.N.V. and Irons, C. (2004)
Criticizing and reassuring oneself: An exploration of forms, style and
reasons in female students. British Journal of Clinical Psychology, 43, 31–
50. Disgust and psychopathology was also the subject of a special edition of
the (2010) International Journal of Cognitive Therapy, 3.
^13 Tobena, A., Marks, I. and Dar, R. (1999) Advantages of bias and prejudice:
An exploration of their neurocognitive templates. Neuroscience and
Behavioral Reviews, 23, 1047–1058. Gilbert, P. (1998) The evolved basis
and adaptive functions of cognitive distortions. British Journal of Medical
Psychology, 71, 447–64.
^16 Twenge, J.M., Gentile, B., DeWall, C.N., Ma, D., Lacefield, K., Schurtz,
D.R. (2010) Birth cohort increases in psychopathology among young
Americans, 1938–2007: A cross-temporal meta-analysis of the MMPI.
Clinical Psychology Review, 30, 145–154. Part of this may be because we
are becoming more self-centered and less community oriented.
^17 Gilbert, P., Broomhead, C., Irons, C., McEwan, K., Bellew, R., Mills, A.
and Gale, C. (2007) Striving to avoid inferiority: Scale development and its
relationship to depression, anxiety and stress. British Journal of Social
Psychology, 46, 633–648; Gilbert, P., McEwan, K., Irons, C., Broomhead,
C., Bellew, R., Mills, A. and Gale, C. (2009) The dark side of competition:
How competitive behaviour and striving to avoid inferiority are linked to
depression, anxiety, stress and self-harm. Psychology and Psychotherapy,
82, 123–136.
^21 Ibid.
^22 Gilbert et al., Striving to avoid inferiority; The dark side of competition (see
note 17).
^24 The evolution of caring behavior and the way in which parents came to look
after and care for their children is now well-established psychology: see
Geary, D.C. (2000) Evolution and proximate expression of human parental
investment. Psychological Bulletin, 126, 55–77. We also know something
about the evolution of specific physiological systems and the brain for
caring: see Bell, D.C. (2001) Evolution of care-giving behavior. Personality
and Social Psychology Review, 5, 216–229; Depue and Morrone-
Strupinsky, A neurobehavioral model of affiliative bonding. We also know
that there have been some very fundamental adaptations in the autonomic
nervous system which allow animals to get close together for affiliative
purposes without overactivating their fight flight system: see Porges, S.
(2003) The Polyvagal theory: phylogenetic contributions to social
behaviour. Physiology & Behavior, 79, 503–513; Porges, S.W. (2007) The
polyvagal perspective. Biological Psychology, 74, 116–143.
^25 Ibid.
^28 Ibid.
^31 Rockliff, H., Gilbert, P., McEwan, K., Lightman, S. and Glover, D. (2008)
A pilot exploration of heart rate variability and salivary cortisol responses
to compassion-focused imagery. Journal of Clinical Neuropsychiatry, 5,
132–139.
^32 Dunbar, R.I.M. (2010) The social role of touch in humans and primates:
Behavioral function and neurobiological mechanisms. Neuroscience and
Biobehavioral Reviews, 34, 260–268. doi:
10.1016/j.neubiorev.2008.07.001.
^33 MacDonald, K. and MacDonald, T.M. (2010) The Peptide that binds: A
systematic review of Oxytocin and its prosocial effects in humans. Harvard
Review of Psychiatry, 18, 1–21. A rather older outline that’s still very
readable is Carter, C.S. (1998) Neuroendocrine perspectives on social
attachment and love. Psychoneuroendocrinology, 23, 779–818.
^34 Rockliff, H., Karl, A., McEwan, K., Gilbert, J., Matos, M. and Gilbert, P.
(2011) Effects of intranasal oxytocin on compassion-focused imagery.
Emotion, 1, 1388–1399. doi: 10.1037/a0023861.
^38 Dunbar, The social role of touch in humans and primates (see note 32).
^39 Ibid.
4. Emergence of Compassion
^1 Two excellent books by the Dalai Lama are his (1995) The Power of
Compassion. London: Thorsons; and (2001) An Open Heart: Practising
Compassion in Everyday Life (ed. N. Vreeland). London: Hodder &
Stoughton. Research around the world is now showing that when we train
ourselves in compassion we actually change not only our thoughts and
feelings but also physiological processes including processes in our brains.
For a fascinating study and review of the literature see Klimecki, O.M.,
Leiberg, S., Lamm, C. and Singer, T. (2012) Functional neural plasticity
and associated changes in positive affect after compassion training.
Cerebral Cortex, advance publication (1 June). doi: 10.1093/cercor/bhs142.
^2 There are many good Buddhist texts on the nature of Bodhicitta, e.g., Geshe
Tashi Tsering (2008) The Awakening Mind: The Foundation of Buddhist
Thought, Volume 4. London: Wisdom Publications. However, a scholarly
and fascinating book that explores the relationship of the concepts of
bodhicitta and Western concepts of archetypes and a “modern psychology
of motives” is Leighton, T.D (2003) Faces of Compassion: Classic
Bodhisattva Archetypes and Their Modern Expression. Somerville, MA:
Wisdom Publications. This was a great find for Paul. See also Vessantara
(1993) Meeting the Buddhas: A Guide to Buddhas, Bodhisattvas and
Tantric Deities. New York: Windhorse Publications.
^3 Geshe Tashi Tsering, The Awakening Mind, p. 1 (see notes 1 and 6; chapter
1).
^4 Spikins, P.A., Rutherford, H.E. and Needham, A.P. (2010) From homininity
to humanity: Compassion from the earliest archaics to moderns humans.
Journal of Archaeology, Consciousness and Culture, 3, 303–326.
^8 The Dalai Lama, The Power of Compassion, An Open Heart; Geshe Tashi
Tsering, The Awakening Mind.
^11 Matthieu Ricard gives a lovely explanation of this and the concept of
“altruistic love”:
http://cultureofempathy.com/References/Experts/Matthieu-Ricard.htm. If
you follow the links on the internet you will also find many other excellent
talks by Matthieu Ricard. See too Ricard (2007) Happiness: A Guide to
Developing Life’s Most Important Skill. London: Atlantic Books.
^12 Geshe Tashi Tsering, The Awakening Mind (see note 3).
^14 Ibid., p. 5.
^17 Ibid.
^20 Gilbert, P. (1989) Human Nature and Suffering. Hove: Psychology Press;
Gilbert, P. (2005) Compassion and cruelty: A biopsychosocial approach. In
P. Gilbert (ed.) Compassion: Conceptualisations, Research and Use in
Psychotherapy (pp. 3–74). London: Routledge. Gilbert, P. (2009) The
Compassionate Mind. London: Constable & Robinson.
^21 Fogel, A., Melson, G.F. and Mistry, J. (1986) Conceptualising the
determinants of nurturance: A reassessment of sex differences. In A. Fogel
and G.F. Melson (eds), Origins of Nurturance: Developmental, Biological
and Cultural Perspectives on Caregiving. Hillsdale, NJ: Lawrence Erlbaum
Associates Inc.; Ehlers, A., Hackmann, A. and Michael, T. (2004) Intrusive
re-experiencing in post-traumatic stress disorder. Phenomenology, theory
and therapy. Memory, 12, 403–415.
^22 Gilbert, Human Nature and Suffering; Compassion and cruelty; The
Compassionate Mind (see note 19).
^23 Gilbert, P., McEwan, K., Matos, M. and Rivis, A. (2011) Fears of
compassion: Development of three self-report measures. Psychology and
Psychotherapy, 84, 239–255.
^24 Gilbert, Human Nature and Suffering; Compassion and cruelty; The
Compassionate Mind (see note 19).
^26 Gilbert, Human Nature and Suffering; Compassion and cruelty; The
Compassionate Mind.
^29 Although this was published in 1989 in Human Nature and Suffering it was
derived from ongoing research at the time. Particularly impressive was a
paper by Wispe, L. (1986) The distinction between sympathy and empathy.
Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 50, 314–321. There is also
the important Decety, J. and Ickes, W. (2011) The Social Neuroscience of
Empathy. Cambridge, MA: MIT Press. The first chapter by Bateson is
especially useful because he points out the complexity and multiple
meanings given to empathy. Another key researcher in this area is
Eisenberg, N. (2002) Empathy-related emotional responses, altruism, and
their socialization. In R. Davidson and A. Harrington (eds), Visions of
Compassion: Western Scientists and Tibetan Buddhists Examine Human
Nature (pp. 131–164). New York: Oxford University Press.
^30 Karp, D. (2001) The Burden of Sympathy: How Families Cope with Mental
Illness. Oxford: Oxford University Press. This is a very moving book based
on 60 interviews with families coping with relatives with a mental illness
and reveals how complex sympathy is in everyday lived experience.
Caregiving that is felt to be obligatory in some way or the need of the other
exceeding the resources one wants to put into caring can, however, be
stressful and detrimental to health; see Vitaliano, P.P., Zhang, J. and
Scanlan, J.M. (2003) Is caregiving hazardous to one’s health? A meta-
analysis. Psychological Bulletin, 129, 946–972.
^34 Willingness and motivation are very important in many therapies such as
existential psychotherapy; see Yalom, I.D. (1980) Existential
Psychotherapy. New York: Basic Books, which has a fascinating chapter on
willingness. Also some of the newer therapies focus on willingness: Hayes,
S.C., Strosahl, K.D. and Wilson, K.G. (2004) Acceptance and Commitment
Therapy: An Experiential Approach to Behavior Change. New York:
Guilford. Christopher Germer and Ronald Siegel also address this in (2012)
Wisdom and Compassion in Psychotherapy: Deepening Mindfulness in
Clinical Practice. New York: Guilford.
^36 Ibid.
^40 Elliott, R., Bohart, A.C., Watson, J.C. and Greenberg, L.S. (2011) Empathy.
Psychotherapy, 30, 43–46. doi: 10.1037/a0022187. And for fascinating
research see Neumann, M., Bensing, J., Mercer, S., Ernstmann, N.,
Ommen, O. and Pfaff, H. (2009) Analyzing the ‘“nature’” and ‘“specific
effectiveness” of clinical empathy: A theoretical overview and contribution
towards a theory-based research agenda. Patient Education and Counseling,
74, 339–346.
^42 Bering, J.M. (2002) The existential theory of mind. Review of General
Psychology, 6, 3–24.
^43 Western, D. (2007) The Political Brain. New York: Public Affairs.
^44 Stopa, L. (ed.) (2009) Imagery and the Threatened Self: Perspectives on
Mental Imagery and the Self in Cognitive Therapy. London: Routledge.
^45 Ringu Tulku Rinpoche and Mullen, K. (2005) The Buddhist use of
compassionate imagery in Buddhist meditation. In P. Gilbert (ed.)
Compassion: Conceptualisations, Research and Use in Psychotherapy (pp.
218–238). London: Brunner–Routledge. Vessantara (1993) Meeting the
Buddhas: A Guide to Buddhas, Bodhisattvas and Tantric Deities. New
York: Windhorse Publications.
^46 Phillips and Taylor, On Kindness; Ballatt and Campling Intelligent Kindness
(see note 14).
^50 Ibid.
^51 Ibid.
^53 Ibid.; Ballatt and Campling Intelligent Kindness (see note 14).
^54 Oliner, S.P. and Oliner, P.M. (1988) The Altruistic Personality: Rescuers of
Jews in Nazi Europe. New York: Free Press.
^6 Brewer, J.A., Worhunsky, P.D., Gray, J.R., Tang, Y., Weber, J. and Kober,
H. (2011) Meditation experience is associated with differences in default
mode network activity and connectivity, Proceedings of the National
Academy of Sciences, 108(50), 20254–20259.
http://www.pnas.org/cgi/doi/10.1073/pnas.1112029108.
^7 Siegel, D. (2010) Mindsight: Transform Your Brain with the New Science of
Kindness. London: Oneworld. See also Germer, C.K. and Siegel, R.D.
(2012) Wisdom and Compassion in Psychotherapy: Deepening Mindfulness
in Clinical Practice. New York: Guilford.
^11 Hofmann, S.G., Sawyer, A.T., Witt, A.A. and Oh, D. (2010) The effect of
mindfulness-based therapy on anxiety and depression: A meta-analytic
review. Clinical Psychological Review, 78, 169–183. doi:
10.1037/a0018555. See also Davis, D.M. and Hayes, A.A. (2011) What are
the benefits of mindfulness? A practice review of psychotherapy-related
research. Psychotherapy, 48, 198–208. doi: 10.1037/a0022062—this is an
excellent summary of key issues and findings. Grossman, P. (2010)
Mindfulness for psychologists: Paying kind attention to the perceptible.
Mindfulness (published online Spring; Springer). doi: 10.1007/s12671-010-
0012-7.
^12 Lutz, A., Brefczynski-Lewis, J., Johnstone, T. and Davidson, R.J. (2008)
Regulation of the neural circuitry of emotion by compassion meditation:
Effects of meditative expertise. Public Library of Science, 3, 1–5.
^13 Williams, M., Teasdale, J., Segal, Z. and Kabat-Zinn, J. (2007) The Mindful
Way Through Depression: Freeing Yourself from Chronic Unhappiness.
New York: Guilford. These authors have done considerable research on
mindfulness and depression, but this self-help book is the most accessible.
For those interested in the research on processes in mindfulness and change
see Kuyken, W., Watkins, E., Holden, E., White, K., Taylor, R.S., Byford,
S., Evans, A., Radford, S., Teasdale, J.D. and Dalgleish, T. (2010) How
does mindfulness-based cognitive therapy work? Behaviour Research and
Therapy, 48, 1105–1112.
^18 Recent research on mindfulness for depression suggests that one of the
mediators of the benefits might be via the development of self-compassion;
see Kuyken et al., 2011. Professor Kuyken, one of the leading authorities on
research into mindfulness and depression, believes that keeping to the
straightforward mindfulness focus without specific compassion training is
important to this work, but we think that specific compassion focusing is
necessary, especially when helping people with fears of compassion.
However, we could be wrong and so these are fascinating debates which
require much more research.
^19 Maex, The Buddhist roots of mindfulness training, p. 171. (see note 10).
^21 Many psychotherapists recognize that some people are very frightened of
feelings of warmth, closeness, and affiliation; they block out feelings of
kindness for all kinds of reasons. We have just started doing research on
this and have found that fear of compassion is linked with problems with
mindfulness: see Gilbert, P., McEwan, K., Gibbons, L., Chotai, S., Duarte,
J. and Matos, M. (in press) Fears of compassion and happiness in relation to
alexithymia, mindfulness and self-criticism. Psychology and
Psychotherapy; Gilbert, P., McEwan, K., Matos, M. and Rivis, A. (2011)
Fears of compassion: Development of three self-report measures.
Psychology and Psychotherapy, 84, 239–255. doi:
10.1348/147608310X526511.
^22 The concept of acceptance is tricky and has a long history. You can find an
excellent review of the issues in Williams, J.C. and Lynn, S.J. (2010)
Acceptance: An historical and conceptual review, Imagination, Cognition
and Personality, 30, 5–56. doi: 10.2190/IC.30.1.c.
^23 The point here is that at a moment-by-moment level, awareness is free of the
constructs that move through it which are built by genes and social
conditioning. A good analogy is the sky and clouds. The sky is like
awareness that is inherently free and open, and the clouds are like our social
conditioning and genetic make-up. The true meaning of acceptance is to
make space for the clouds and not fight them as this places us in alignment
with the sky, which is the deeper truth.
^24 Cacioppo, J.T. and Patrick, W. (2008) Loneliness: Human Nature and the
Need for Social Connection. New York: Norton.
^26 Hayes, S.C., Strosahl, K.D. and Wilson, K.G. (2004) Acceptance and
Commitment Therapy: An Experiential Approach to Behavior Change. New
York: Guilford. See also Germer and Siegel Wisdom and Compassion in
Psychotherapy.
^4 Cacioppo, J.T. and Patrick, W. (2008) Loneliness: Human Nature and the
Need for Social Connection. New York: Norton.
^9 One of the best-known books on body memory and its link to mental-health
problems is Rothschild, B. (2000) The Body Remembers: The
Psychophysiology of Trauma and Trauma Treatment. New York: Norton.
However, many people who work with trauma now recognise the
importance of how our automatic bodily reactions can arise; see Van der
Hart, O., Steele, K. and Nijenhuis, E. (2006) The Haunted Self: Structural
Dissociation and Treatment of Chronic Traumatization. New York: W.W.
Norton.
^11 Sachs, J (2011) The Price of Civilization: Economics and Ethics After the
Fall. London: Bodley.
^15 In fact the emotion of disgust and its link to “getting rid of and purification”
is now understood to be linked to some of our psychology of moral feelings
in very complex and important ways. This is too big a topic to take up here,
but interested readers can explore this for themselves—seeing once again
how our evolved minds can shape us in ways that are sometimes surprising
—and it directs us to great caution in how we feel and think about moral
issues. Oaten, M., Stevenson, R.J. and Case, T.I. (2009) Disgust as a
disease-avoidance mechanism. Psychological Bulletin, 135, 303–321. doi:
10.1037/a0014823. Russell, P.S. and Giner-Sorolla, R. (2011) Social
justifications for moral emotions: When reasons for disgust are less
elaborated than for anger. Emotion, 11, 637–646. doi: 10.1037/a0022600. A
very fascinating book, exploring the whole nature of morality and suffering,
is Shweder, R.A., Much, N.C., Mahapatra, M. and Park, L. (1997) The “big
three” of morality (autonomy, community and divinity) and the “big three”
explanations of suffering. In A.M. Brandt and P. Rozin (eds), Morality and
Health (pp. 119–169). New York: Routledge.
7. Mindfulness Practice
^1 See chapter 5, note 1.
^2 Nairn, R. (1998) Diamond Mind. Cape Town: Kairon Press. Rob was one of
Choden’s teachers and therefore some of what is presented here, including
the exercise “Recognizing the Unsettled Mind,” which opens the chapter, is
derived from his teachings and work. See also Mindfulness Based Living
Course (2011) by Mindfulness Association Ltd.
(http://www.mindfulnessassociation.net).
^3 Farhi, D. (1996) The Breathing Book: Good Health and Vitality Through
Essential Breath Work. New York: Holt. A new, excellent book with a
guided-practice CD for training in breathing is Richard Brown and Patricia
Gerburg (2012). The Healing Power of the Breath. Boston: Shambhala.
^5 There are now many CDs to purchase and also YouTube demonstrations of
body-scan mindfulness. Examples by Jon Kabat-Zinn, Ron Siegel, and
Mark Williams can be recommended.
^7 Ibid.
^9 Baer, L. (2001) The Imp of the Mind: Exploring the Silent Epidemic of
Obsessional Bad Thoughts. New York: Plume Press. This is an excellent
book for people who are troubled by the kinds of thoughts and feelings that
are coming into their minds.
^4 See note 2.
6 The Centre for Compassion and Altruism, Research and Education, Stanford
University, is developing a Compassion Cultivation Training Program
where this kind of exercise is very important.
^7 Allione, T. (2008) Feeding Your Demons. New York: Little, Brown. This is a
fascinating book drawing on an ancient Buddhist approach to identifying
inner “demons” such as the self-critical mind, and then learning to identify
what they need and heal them as opposed to just rooting them out.
^8 See chapter 10 of Gilbert, P. (2009) The Compassionate Mind. London:
Constable & Robinson. Gilbert, P. and Irons, C. (2005) Focused therapies
and compassionate mind training for shame and self-attacking. In P. Gilbert
(ed.) Compassion: Conceptualisations, Research and Use in Psychotherapy
(pp. 263–325). London: Routledge.
^2 Ibid.
^6 Chodron, P. (2005) When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult
Times. New York: Element Books.
Paul Gilbert, PhD, is world-renowned for his work on depression, shame, and
self-criticism. He is head of the mental health research unit at the University of
Derby and author of The Compassionate Mind and Overcoming Depression.
Choden was a monk for seven years within the Tibetan Buddhist tradition,
Choden (aka Sean McGovern) completed a three-year, three-month retreat in
1997 and has been a practicing Buddhist since 1985. He is originally from South
Africa, where he trained as a lawyer and where he learned meditation under the
guidance of Rob Nairn, an internationally renowned Buddhist teacher. He is now
involved in developing secular mindfulness and compassion programs drawing
upon the wisdom and methods of the Buddhist tradition, as well as contemporary
insights from psychology and neuroscience. He is an honorary fellow of the
University of Aberdeen and teaches on their postgraduate study program in
mindfulness (MSc) that is the first of its kind to include compassion in its
curriculum.