Goodwill

This morning we’ll discuss mettā, which we translate as goodwill. This is the second perfection coming under the section on discernment. It provides the heart side to what is usually seen as a “head” perfection.

Notice: We translate mettā as “goodwill” and not as “love” or “loving-kindness.” Pāli has another word for love, which is pema, as in Pema Chödron. The Buddha warns against love because love involves partiality. As he says, there are cases where love can give rise to love, but it can also give rise to hatred. Hatred can give rise to love, and hatred can give rise to hatred.

For example, suppose you love Bernard. If someone does something nice to Bernard, you’re going to like or love that person. If someone mistreats Bernard, you’re going to hate that person. Now, suppose you hate Bernard. If someone does something nice for him, you’re going to hate that person. If someone does something nasty to Bernard, you’re going to love that person. So, as the Buddha said, you can’t really trust love as a basis for social engagement because love is a way of feeding on the other person, and it can lead to factionalism and divisiveness.

One of the reasons why mettā is often translated as love or loving-kindness is because there’s a passage in the Canon—it’s in passage [§11] in the readings—describing the love of a mother for her child. “As a mother would risk her life to protect her child, her only child, even so, one should cultivate the heart limitlessly with regard to all beings.” Sometimes that passage is translated to say that you should love everyone the same way a mother would love her child—which is a nice sentiment, but totally impossible.

What the passage is actually saying is that you should protect your goodwill for all beings in the same way that a mother would protect her only child. In other words, even if other people are mistreating you, you should protect your goodwill for those people. Even if they’re going to kill you, you still protect your goodwill. Remember the passage in the readings about how you’re being pinned down by bandits and they’re sawing off your limbs. The Buddha says that you should still have goodwill for them. Otherwise, if you allow yourself to feel ill will for them, it’ll lead to a miserable rebirth, fixated on thoughts of revenge. This is what the image of the mother means. You protect your goodwill for everyone, even risking your life to do so, despite whatever they may be doing, as a way of protecting yourself.

Now, goodwill is an expression of discernment. As I said, it’s the heart side of what’s usually regarded as a “head” quality. In terms of the factors of the noble eightfold path, it’s a part of right resolve, one of the discernment factors. Right resolve is based on the understanding that it’s perfectly fine to want true happiness, but if you want your happiness to be true, it cannot depend on the suffering of others. This understanding is what underlies the desire for goodwill: Because you want a happiness that lasts, you have to be determined to extend goodwill to others and to yourself so that you won’t do anything in your pursuit of happiness that will cause harm. You want to be skillful in all your interactions with other beings, regardless of whether those beings are good in your eyes or bad.

At the same time, you also realize that true happiness is something that will have to come from within, which means that your true happiness doesn’t conflict with anyone else’s. This is why a wish for true happiness can be an unlimited attitude, one you can extend to all beings. Love creates divisions, but goodwill can erase divisions. You understand that true happiness is a good goal for you and for all beings, and so you learn how to focus your desire on the causes of that happiness: the perfections. In that way, every perfection is an expression of goodwill.

To understand goodwill—to have right view about goodwill—it’s important to understand its relationship to kamma.

• The first lesson from the teaching of kamma is its explanation of what it means to wish others well. For people to be happy, they have to act skillfully. So, when you extend goodwill to others, you hope that they will understand the causes for true happiness and be willing and able to act on them. In other words, you’re not simply wishing them to be happy, whatever they’re doing right now. After all, they may be doing some very unskillful things.

I once had a student from San Francisco who was having problems with her landlord. The landlord was going to sell the property and wanted all of the renters to lie about the rent that they were paying, and my student didn’t know what to do. She told me, “Well, I’ve been spreading goodwill to him and imagining him with a beautiful house and a swimming pool and many girlfriends.” I said, “No, no, no, no. You don’t understand goodwill. First get together with the other renters and then go as a group to talk to the landlord. Spread thoughts of goodwill to him by figuring out what you can do so that he won’t make you lie. After all, not getting you to lie would be for his long-term welfare and happiness.” In other words, goodwill is not a magic wand to make people happy and prosperous. You’re thinking, “What can I do to help these people act more skillfully?” If they’re really set on doing unskillful things, you think, “What can I do to help these people have a change of heart?” That’s the first lesson that kamma gives to goodwill.

• The second lesson concerns what’s involved in creating a mind state of goodwill in yourself. Unlimited goodwill is not an innate feature of the mind. It’s simply one of the possibilities that exist in the mind, together with many unskillful possibilities. As the Buddha once said, the mind is more variegated than the animal kingdom. Just think of all the different kinds of animals there are on land, in the ocean, in the air: Your mind is capable of more variety than even that. It’s also capable of changing its direction faster than anything else. This is why the Buddha speaks of goodwill as a determination: something you make up your mind to pursue continuously.

He also talks about goodwill as a kind of mindfulness, something you have to consciously keep in mind. Otherwise—because it’s not innate—it’s very easy to forget. You can be sitting and doing mettā for a week, “May all beings be happy, may all beings be happy.” Then you get out in your car and somebody cuts right in front of you, “And may this being go to hell!” You’ve got to keep reminding yourself that goodwill is an attitude you have to bring to every encounter with others.

Here it’s good to remember the three kinds of fabrication we talked about last night: bodily, verbal, and mental. Bodily fabrication is the breath, verbal fabrication is how you talk to yourself, and mental fabrication covers the perceptions you hold in mind, together with the feelings you create with the other fabrications. Now, to create an attitude of goodwill, you have to use all three kinds of fabrication. Breathe in a way that feels good in the body, and then talk to yourself about why you need to have goodwill for this other person. Then hold in mind a perception that this will actually be good for you and the other person, too. This will help to develop a feeling of pleasure associated with goodwill.

For example, if your boss is doing something stupid, breathe calmly, and then think about the good things the boss has done in the past, to erase any perception you may have that the boss is a monster or a fool. Hold that perception in mind.

Something in your mind may rebel, asking, “Why think about this person’s good aspects when he’s doing something so horrible right now?” The antidote for that attitude is a perception—a mental fabrication—that the Buddha recommends calling to mind: It’s as if you’re walking through a desert. You’re hot, tired, trembling with thirst, and you come across a small footprint of a cow that has a little bit of water in it. You realize if you tried to use your hand to scoop it up, you’d make the water muddy. So, the only way to drink the water is to get down on all fours and slurp it up.

Now, this is not a very dignified posture. You would not want someone to come along with an iPhone and take a picture of you and post it on Instagram. However, you need the water, so you don’t worry about the dignity. In the same way, you need to think about the goodness of other people, even if it seems beneath you, because you need their goodness in order to nourish your goodness. That’s a good perception to hold in mind, making it easier to think about the goodness of other people for the sake of your own goodness.

Otherwise, you become like the two dogs in a cartoon I saw once in The New Yorker. They’re female dogs—they’re wearing make-up and lipstick—and they’re sitting at a bar drinking cocktails. Both have very mean and cynical expressions on their faces, and one of them is saying, “They’re all sons of bitches.” The point there is that if everybody is a son of a bitch, then you’re going to be a son of a bitch or a bitch yourself. So, for the sake of your own goodness, you try to think of the goodness of other people.

These are some ways in which you use the three kinds of fabrication to create and maintain an attitude of goodwill.

• The third lesson that kamma teaches about goodwill concerns the reasons for why you need it. Its function is to guarantee the skillfulness of your actions. You want to make sure that your goodness is not dependent on the goodness of others. Only when it is independent can you trust it. It should also not be dependent on thoughts about whether other beings deserve your goodwill or not. It depends more on the fact that you need your goodwill, to protect yourself from doing unskillful things. This is why the Buddha talks about goodwill as a kind of restraint. We usually think of goodwill as something open and wide, without limits, but it does place certain restraints on what we do, say, and think, so that we don’t do unskillful things that will harm ourselves or others.

Another reason why you need goodwill is that it helps to mitigate the effects of your past kamma. The Buddha has an image—another good perception to hold in mind—that your past bad kamma is like a large lump of salt. If you put that lump of salt into a small cup of water, you wouldn’t be able to drink the water. However, if you put it into a large river of water, you could still drink the water. The cup of water stands for a mind that has very limited goodwill for others, whereas the river stands for a mind of unlimited goodwill. As the Buddha said, if your mind is unlimited, then even though past bad kamma will give its results, you hardly experience them at all.

• The teaching on kamma also teaches you about the karmic consequences of developing goodwill, as in one of the passages given in the readings: “You sleep easily; you wake easily; you dream no evil dreams; you are dear to human beings, dear to non-human beings; the devas protect you; neither fire, poison nor weapons can touch you; you gain concentration quickly; your complexion is bright; you die unconfused; and if you penetrate to no higher attainment, then you are headed for the brahmā worlds.” Doesn’t sound bad.

• Another lesson coming from the teaching on kamma is how goodwill is best expressed in your actions. It’s not necessarily best expressed through tenderness. In Thai, they have the concept of what they call high-level mettā, which is often attributed to the ajaans when they do or say something that you don’t like but is good for you. Sometimes they can be quite sharp, but it’s for your own good.

I’ll give you an example. As my concentration was getting better when I was practicing with Ajaan Fuang, he would say things to try to get me worked up. He knew where my buttons were. At first, I was upset: “I’m trying to keep my concentration going, and here he is destroying it.” But then I finally realized what was happening, so I told myself, “No matter what he says, I’m not going to let it get me upset.” One evening I was talking with him. He had asked me to translate one of Ajaan Lee’s books, and I happened to tell him that I had finished it that afternoon. Instead of saying that was good, he said, “That’s your business, and none of mine.” Fortunately, my mind was in good shape and the words just went right past me. I said to myself as they went by, “That was pretty nasty,” but my vacuum cleaner was turned off, so I didn’t suck them in. Then the next thing he said was, “Good, in that case, we’ll find someone to print the book.” I passed the test. So, sometimes mettā can be very harsh but it still is conducive to well-being.

• Finally, the teaching on kamma requires that the way you live be in keeping with thoughts of unlimited goodwill. The Karaṇīya Mettā Sutta talks about the prerequisites for mettā: that you be content with few things, that you are easy to instruct and easy to support, and that you have few duties. Now for monks, what this means is you don’t have a lot of building projects. Otherwise, everyone who comes into the monastery becomes a target for your desire to contribute to the building project. It’s like the Shackleton expedition. When they were coming back from the Antarctic, they stopped at an island and they had no food, which meant that every penguin that walked onto the island was going to become a meal. I think about that image every time I go to a monastery where they have a building project that they’re promoting aggressively.

So, you have to live your life in a way that really is harmless and unburdensome to other beings if you want your mettā to be sincere. This is how the perfection of mettā connects with the perfections of truth, virtue, and persistence. Goodwill is also nourishment for all the other perfections. If you develop a mind state where you realize you have no ill will for anyone, it gives you a sense of strength and nourishment, and as the Buddha says, it provides protection for you in all directions, into the past and into the future.

What this requires, though, is that when you’re developing goodwill, you don’t simply think over and over again, “May so-and-so be happy, may they be happy, may they be happy.” You also have to think, “Is there anyone out there for whom I cannot have genuine goodwill? Why can I not feel goodwill for this person?” If they’re misbehaving, genuine goodwill means that you’re wishing that they will have a change of heart: that they’ll change their ways and behave more skillfully.

Now, is there anyone out there who you would like to see suffer before they change their ways? If there is, ask yourself, “Okay, why? What are you feeding on?” It’s usually a sense of revenge. And even though they say revenge is sweet, it’s miserable food. It would actually be better for the world if the other person did not suffer, because when people suffer, they rarely tell themselves, “Ah, this is the result of my misbehavior. I should change my ways.” They usually take it out on other people, like the hummingbirds I talked about last night. So, for the sake of your happiness and for the sake of everyone’s happiness, you want to be able to express thoughts of goodwill even to very difficult people. By working through your ill will in this way, you can get to a place where you can genuinely feel goodwill for everyone in all directions. And you’ll be protected in all directions as well.

Questions

Q: Goodwill is often associated with esteem or affection for somebody, which sometimes may be difficult and sometimes even false. If you explain goodwill as a wish for a person to behave better for that person’s own well-being, it’s a lot easier to have goodwill, but doesn’t this put some restraint on what the meaning of mettā is?

A: Mettā basically means goodwill. There will be some people for whom your affection is naturally stronger, but can you really have that kind of strong affection for everybody? Remember you have to have mettā for snakes and spiders and devious public figures. It’s hard to feel affection in cases like that.

Q: Mettā is said to be like the love of a mother for her only child. But a mother’s love for her child can be very undependable. There are many mothers who don’t love their children. Motherly love is not written into our genes.

A: As I said, there is that image in the Canon of a mother protecting her only child, but the image is not describing mettā itself. The Buddha uses the image to describe how you look after your own goodwill. Just as a mother would protect her only child with her life, you should protect your goodwill for all beings in the same way. So, the Buddha’s not saying that mettā is like the love of a mother for her child, he’s simply saying that you have to protect it in all circumstances, even in very difficult ones. As you pointed out, there are lots of mothers who don’t love their children. And as I also noted, when the Buddha’s talking about love, he uses another word. The Pāli word is pema, which he says is an emotion you cannot trust because love can turn into hatred very easily.

So, as you say, mettā is not written into our genes. We develop mettā by thinking about how, if our happiness depends on the suffering of other beings, that happiness is not going to last. We have to take their well-being into consideration.

Secondly, if you have ill will for other people, it’s going to be very easy for you to mistreat them. That’s why, to protect yourself from your own unskillful actions, you have to learn how to develop goodwill for everyone. Here, goodwill means wishing, “May these beings be happy.” And remember, they’ll find happiness through being skillful in their own actions. So, basically, you’re wishing, “May they learn how to be skillful in their actions,” and that you would be happy to help them in that quest. With those thoughts in mind, you can develop goodwill.

There’s a passage in the Canon that those of you who were in earlier retreats will probably remember. King Pasenadi is in his private apartment with one of his queens, Queen Mallikā, and in a tender moment he turns to her and says, “Is there anyone you love more than yourself?” You know what he’s thinking—like a typical man: that she’s going to say, “Yes, your majesty, I love you more than I love myself.” But this is the Pāli Canon, and Queen Mallikā is no fool. She says, “No, there’s nobody I love more than myself. And how about you? Is there anybody you love more than yourself?” And the king has to admit: No, there isn’t. That’s the end of that scene.

The king then goes to see the Buddha and reports their conversation. The Buddha responds, “You know, she’s right. You could search the entire world and you would never find anyone you love more than yourself. Similarly, everyone else loves themselves just that fiercely.” But then the Buddha’s conclusion is not that it’s a dog-eat-dog world and you should just grab whatever you want whenever you can. Instead, he says, “If you really love yourself, then you should never harm anybody else or get them to do harm.” The reason, as I said earlier, is that if your happiness depends on their suffering, it’s not going to last. Therefore, when you realize that goodwill is in your own best interest, it’s a lot easier to develop thoughts of goodwill.

Q: Does the act of mettā create an intention? And if so, for whom?

A: The idea of having goodwill for all beings is in and of itself an intention, and it’s your intention. You’re the one who immediately benefits from that. But if you act on that intention, other beings will benefit, too.

Q: For many people, happiness lies in having someone near and dear to them: their children, their grandchildren. It’s difficult and perhaps not very wise to tell them that their true happiness lies somewhere else and that they’re suffering from an illusion.

A: Never tell anyone they’re suffering from an illusion, okay? Especially if that’s where their happiness lies. You might indirectly try to let them know that they have to develop another source of happiness as well. For instance, in addition to having children and grandchildren, they can also learn how to meditate and develop an internal source of well-being. Or they could also find happiness through being generous or virtuous. This way, you help provide them with an alternative basis for happiness in case something ever happens to their children or grandchildren. When you do this, what you’re telling them is actually an extra gift. Instead of trying to take away the happiness they already have, you try to provide them with an alternative basis.

Q: For our goodness and the goodness of others, is it always necessary to accept and not say anything?

A: No, no, no, no, no.

Q: Can one express one’s feelings, for instance, when one has been wounded?

A: Yes. The question lies in learning how to express your feelings in a skillful way. Ask yourself, “What is the best thing to say? When is the best opportunity to say it?” You can say as much as you think is really necessary and with a good cause. The important thing is that you not speak simply out of the force of your emotion. And the second point is always to try to show respect for other people when you’re criticizing them.

They conducted a psychological experiment years back in which they took couples, hooked them up with machines, and covered them with sensors to measure such things as their heart rate and sweat rate. Then they took a short video of them as they discussed a topic that was a minor irritation in the relationship. As it turned out, they didn’t use the heart rate or sweat rate measurements at all. As was the case with many psychological experiments, the sensors were a distraction. Instead, they took the videos and they slowed them down, looking for the micro-expressions that would flit over the couples’ faces as they talked. What they discovered was that they could tell with pretty good accuracy which relationships would last and which relationships would not—which is kind of scary. If there was any micro-expression of contempt for the other person, the relationship was not going to last. So, the important thing when you criticize someone else is that you try to do it with an attitude of respect for that person. In that way, the message you’re trying to get across will probably be more happily received.

Q: How can we develop the skill of sending thoughts of kindness and love from the bottom of our heart for those who have hurt us, instead of just using the rational action of the mind? Thank you.

A: You have to start with the rational action. Just keep reminding yourself that you do not gain any benefit by seeing other people suffer. Remember what goodwill means, which is, “May this person understand the causes for true happiness and be willing and able to act on those causes.” In other words, you’re wishing that that person would learn how to behave in a skillful and harmless manner. Is there anyone out there for whom you cannot think that thought? In other words, is there anyone you would like to see suffer first before they become skillful? Now, in some cases, part of your heart may say, “Yes.” You have to ask that part, “What do you gain from seeing that person suffer?” And the correct answer is, nothing really. Basically, you have to reason with your heart until the heart is willing to believe that, yes, it really would be better to see this person become more skillful, and that you’re willing to give up the satisfaction of getting some revenge—because revenge is sweet, and we know that sweets are not good for you.

Q: Could you please explain the phrase, “May I understand the causes for true happiness and be willing and able to act on them.” How can I know the causes for my happiness? And how can I act on those causes?

A: You begin with a general principle that true happiness has to be a happiness that does not cause any harm, either to yourself or to others. So, you look around: Is there anyone whose happiness is not causing any harm? Then you ask that person for advice. For example, you might take the Buddha’s advice. He says that true happiness comes from generosity, virtue, and developing universal goodwill. Now, this answer makes sense because you don’t harm anyone with generosity or with virtue or with universal goodwill, and yet it’s possible to be happy doing these things. So, you try developing these practices within yourself. When you see the results arising, that’s when you know for yourself.

Q: Does mettā actually act on other people or beings? If so, what’s the mechanism?

A: In some cases, yes, it does act on other people. It’s as if your mind is a radio transmitter and other people are like radios. Sometimes the radio transmitter is very weak and sometimes it’s strong. Sometimes other people have their radios turned on; sometimes they don’t. As for the mechanism: Think about light. Light is waves, but nobody knows waves of what. We don’t really know how light works, but we can still use it. In the same way, you don’t have to know how mettā works in order to get good use out of it.

Q: What is animosity?

A: Animosity is the desire to get revenge. To be free of animosity means two things: One, no one has any thoughts of getting revenge against you, and, two, you have no thoughts of getting revenge against other people.

Q: I feel selfish and I don’t know love, even for my relatives. What can I do to awaken love for others, a love that is universal and disinterested?

A: When you meditate, spend some time thinking about how much your current position in life depends on other people—the people who taught you how to speak, the people who taught you all the different types of knowledge you use, the work of all the people who keep society going—until it really hits home that you are dependent on many, many, many other people. Then you can ask yourself, “What am I doing to pay them back?” Maybe some sense of gratitude will come, and from gratitude, a sense of goodwill.

You’ve answered my question about selfishness and love, advising me to meditate upon them. What are the steps for performing this kind of meditation, and what’s the difference between that and meditating by focusing on the breath?

A: This is a kind of meditation in which you’re actively using your analytical mind. In this case, you should try thinking about the areas in which you should be grateful to others for the help you’ve received. Start with the fact that if you didn’t have parents, you wouldn’t be here. If you didn’t have teachers, there would be a great deal you wouldn’t know. Then think of all the people who you’ve never met whose work you’ve depended on. In other words, you start with people who are close to you and then you cast your thoughts out further and further away. Then you come back to the present moment, realizing that the people you depend on are all around you.

Q: In spreading thoughts of mettā to politicians who are harming people—I won’t name names—I find that I don’t really care about their happiness. I just want them to stop causing harm. Is that wrong?

A: There’s nothing wrong with it at all. But try to have some compassion for those politicians. If they really are harming people, they’re creating a lot of bad kamma for themselves. They’re really deluded. And who knows, maybe someday in the future, you may be a politician, too, and it would be good for your populace to have compassion for you.

Q: Can I spread mettā to a situation in the past or for a difficult situation that I anticipate in the future?

A: You don’t spread mettā to situations, you spread mettā to beings. So, with regard to the situation in the past, spread goodwill to all the beings who were involved in that situation, wherever they are now. As for a difficult situation in the future, spread thoughts of goodwill to all the people who will be involved.

Q: Is it valid to send mettā to a person no longer in this world, one to whom I felt resentment and who had resentment toward me?

A: This is a very good practice to do. It’s one way of bringing your own mind to some peace. You have to remember that when people die, they don’t go out of existence. They get born again. So, they’re always there someplace for you to spread mettā to. Now, whether that person rejoices in your mettā or not, that’s that person’s business. But if you can spread goodwill to someone you used to resent, that takes a huge burden off of your mind.

Q: Sending mettā to a friend who has died: Does the mettā get to them even though that person has been reborn as a turtle or a plant?

A: People don’t get reborn as plants, but it is possible for them to become turtles. So, yes, it is possible for the turtle to receive the thoughts of mettā and to benefit from them. There are many stories in the forest tradition of the ajaans sending mettā to animals of different kinds and of the animals responding to them in appropriate ways.

Q: I’ve heard in previous talks and Dhamma teachings that emotions such as love for parents and friends are attachments. Should they be changed for impersonal love? Would that be a price to pay for awakening?

A: You will always have your love for your parents and friends, and the Buddha says that you have a special debt of gratitude to your parents, so they always will be special to you. It’s simply that as you practice, your idea of how you can best help them will develop. For instance, getting them more interested in meditation, getting them interested in being generous: You come to realize that that’s the best way to express your love and repay your debt to your parents and to your friends.