Day 13 - Metta from the Inside

By now you've experienced a few different versions of lovingkindness. And once again, if you looked from the outside, you'd see me sitting quietly in a room with Rico beside me. But what's happening on the inside? That's what I'll try to explain today. So here's why a metta practice works for me. I'm an introvert by nature. Social distancing and quarantining got old after a couple years but initially I kinda liked staying put in one place with only my immediate family. Given that tendency, if I'm not intentional when I close my eyes to meditate, instead of becoming aware of the present moment, I can easily fall into the trap of running away from life's discomfort. I just might zone out for 20 minutes each morning. But metta prompts me to recognize how I'm actually connected to everyone. If in meditation, turning inward can become a form of escape, then in metta, turning outward is the antidote to self-centeredness.

Another great benefit of a metta practice is that it also moves me from my head to my heart. Although I've practiced meditation for years, often I still fall down the rabbit hole of regret and worry in spite of my best effort. I guess that's why I keep practicing. Metta, on the other hand, takes me to a place of imagination and memory. As I silently say words of wellbeing, health, and ease for loved ones, neutral people, difficult people, and everyone everywhere, I try to paint a mental picture of the person as vivid as possible, complete with images, sounds and feelings. I envision them surrounded by white light. By doing this, I often feel a sense of warmth in my chest. I sincerely hope my words of blessings make a difference in the life of the person. The practical side has its doubts when it comes to metta but the intuitive side knows the process changes me deep within. And because we are all interconnected, if metta helps me to become more loving then is some way, I've helped the world to become more loving.

Practice Options

• Revisit the meditation from a couple days ago

• Use imagination and memory to invent your own form of metta

• Reflect on this poem by Juan Ramón Jiménez

I am not I. I am this one walking beside me whom I do not see, whom at times I manage to visit, and whom at other times I forget; the one who remains silent while I talk, the one who forgives, sweet, when I hate, the one who takes a walk when I am indoors, the one who will remain standing when I die.