Collective Breath is an online Sangha. Each month, we explore a different theme through the lens of Buddhist psychology. This email offers concluding reflections and a practice to complete our monthly exploration of Compassion.
Dear friends,
For the past four weeks, we have been diving into the theme of Karuna (compassion). We explored how Karuna differs from Metta, what Tonglen is, and how and when to practice it.
As many of you shared over the course of these weeks, Tonglen created space to engage with the suffering of others in a profound, embodied - and sometimes difficult- way.
Tonglen is not as soothing or calming as samatha. Yet over time, and with continued practice, it can open us to an immeasurable felt sense of deep care, connection, and tenderness toward others.
For this final week, I felt it would be nourishing to gently shift the focus toward ourselves and lean back into Metta—as a way of resourcing and replenishing.
Having the capacity to meet pain and remain fully engaged with suffering requires embodiment and courage because to cultivate compassion and empathy means doing so even when the heart trembles.
We make a commitment to deepen awareness because anguish and suffering are ever-present in this world. In this sense, compassion, empathy, and metta are acts of generosity. We choose not to look away. We pause, we listen, we engage - all instead of distracting ourselves in moments of crisis.
I would like you to think back to times in your life when someone you loved needed your sudden and unexpected care. Most likely, in the face of urgency, your life simplified. Your energy focused on what needed to be done to alleviate suffering; taking time off, moving back home, organising help. No questions were asked.
And yet, as kind, loving, and forgiving as we may be toward others, offering that same level of care and attention to ourselves can feel far less natural. Additionally, we often add layers of guilt, self-criticism, or grief to the difficult emotions we are already experiencing.
This is what the Buddha called the “second arrow.”
The Second Arrow is a parable from the Sallatha Sutta that distinguishes between unavoidable pain (the first arrow) and the suffering we add through resistance, blame, or rumination (the second arrow). While life’s hardships; fear, illness, loss; are inevitable, the emotional layering we add can be softened through awareness and compassion.
We cannot always stop pain from arising. But we can meet ourselves with kindness instead of judgment. That choice changes everything.
The “Self” of the Moment
In her book Boundless Heart, Christina Feldman uses the phrase “the self of the moment”. She explains that many of our self-narratives are fleeting: I’m angry. I’m sad. I’m anxious. They arise and pass many times throughout the day. And yet (!) we are often fooled into believing that the “self” of this moment is fixed and permanen and somehow very different from who we were just hours ago (?!)
This solidified sense of self can cause great difficulty in how we perceive ourselves and others. We begin to believe: This is who I am. This is who I will always be. This type of identification creates suffering. It leaves little room for growth, curiosity, or discovery - and it is often devoid of kindness and compassion.
This is why “not-knowing” lies at the heart of Buddhist meditation practice. Not-knowing asks us to leave the preconceived ideas, expectations, and worries on the doorstep. It asks us to step into the liminal. To live the question.1
When we allow ourselves to be surprised (by ourselves and by others) our capacity for wonder and beginner’s mind straightens our capacity for kindness and compassion too.
