When I teach metta, or loving-kindness, I find that resistance to self-metta is a common stumbling block for many. And I get it. I had the same problem when I started practicing metta meditation.
In Pali, the meaning of metta is multifaceted. It includes loving-kindness, goodwill, benevolence, and nonharming. Metta can also be understood as love that isn’t romantic or possessive. True metta inspires a feeling of fellowship, solidarity, and care. It’s offered freely without expectation of reciprocity.
My first experience with metta meditation was over twenty years ago. This was after nearly ten years practicing in the Zen tradition. Wanting to experience loving-kindness for myself, I signed up for a five-day metta retreat led by Trudy Goodman and Marcia Rose.
On the first session of the retreat, about twenty-five people gathered in a large, airy room looking out at the yellow leaves of aspen trees in fall. The teachers introduced us to metta practice by explaining that we’d begin by offering loving-kindness to ourselves. This is the traditional approach. The idea is that if meditators cultivate self-compassion, they can then more readily extend compassion outward to others in a sequence that includes loved ones, teachers and benefactors, neutral people, difficult people, and finally all beings. When we open our hearts to receive kindness, we have more to give to others.
“As I sink into metta practice on the cushion, it takes only moments to feel the energy of loving-kindness radiating in all directions, without limit.”
I was one of two students who practiced in the Zen tradition on this retreat. The other Zen student pushed back on starting metta practice with himself; he said it seemed wrong, even selfish. I too felt resistant to this approach for the same reason. Somehow I’d imagined we’d offer metta to other people first and maybe get to ourselves later, or we’d just fold self-metta into the “all beings” category. Something about offering myself metta rubbed against my ideas of altruistic kindness.
Despite our objections, the teachers insisted we start with ourselves. I decided to give it a try and chose to work with the classic metta phrases: “May I be happy. May I be healthy. May I be safe. May I be free.” I settled in for what I thought would be a day or so of offering metta to myself, looking forward to when I could move on to other beings.
The first day was a bust. Although I adhered to the instructions and focused the phrases on myself, my practice was as dry as the desert. Sitting, walking, eating—all day long—I silently repeated the phrases, but I felt nothing. By the end of the day, I was exhausted and couldn’t wait for bed, where I could finally let go of the phrases.
I quickly drifted off to sleep only to be startled awake. My roommate was snoring like a freight train. Being a light sleeper, I knew I’d never be able to sleep with those roaring decibels, so I slipped out. I found a wooden bench in the hallway where I scrunched up and slept for maybe three hours.
The next day, I was so tired I didn’t have much energy for overthinking. All I could do was focus on the present moment—my metta practice. The hours passed, and at one point in the early afternoon I felt a small crack, a sliver of kindness and warmth finally accompanying the phrases. I excitedly reported this breakthrough to Trudy and asked if I could now move on to the next category of beings. Trudy said no. My hopes dashed, I gathered my energy and continued with self-metta. Unfortunately, that sliver of a breakthrough dissipated, and I was back to the slog of empty phrases. Somehow my doggedness kept me going.
On the third day, I began wondering why I was torturing myself so relentlessly. Hoping to finagle a different answer than I’d gotten from Trudy, I asked Marcia if I could try something new since the self-metta didn’t seem to be “working.” She told me to keep going, and despite my doubts, I persevered—my expectations slipping below zero.
Late that afternoon, I was walking outdoors, still repeating those miserable phrases, when a bird flew by. My mind stopped. In that moment my heart shattered open, a million tiny pieces of metta sprinkling my entire being with love. My tender heart was finally unbound and able to drink in the kindness. The phrases I’d relentlessly offered to myself on this retreat burst into love for all beings without limit! The door swung open, and I had access to the kindness I’d been cultivating for those three long days.
Since this breakthrough, the expansive loving heart of metta is accessible to me. As I sink into metta practice on the cushion, it takes only moments to feel the energy of loving-kindness radiating in all directions, without limit.
Now I encourage students who are struggling with self-metta to be patient and stick with the practice. Sometimes simply offering kindness to all the stuck places is enough. With time and attention, the seeds of metta are bound to bloom into an all-encompassing love that doesn’t shut out anyone or anything, including ourselves.
How to Practice Loving-Kindness for Yourself
- Settle into your posture. Notice how your body feels on the floor, chair, or cushion. Let your attention settle into the body.
- Focus on your breathing. Notice the sensations of inhaling and exhaling wherever you feel them most strongly. For a few moments just rest with the breath, perhaps feeling a sense of ease, equanimity, and restfulness.
- Now locate any emotions you feel in this moment as sensations in the body. Perhaps there’s tightness in the throat, a heaviness in the heart, tension in the shoulders, or perhaps you feel at ease. Whatever you find, just allow your feelings to be as they are. If you find it difficult to stay present, widen your attention to include the entire body. If you’d like, place your hand at your heart and feel the care and kindness you can offer yourself in this moment.
- Now, silently repeat metta phrases. Here are a few suggested phrases. You can choose all or any that speak to you:
May I be safe.
May I be peaceful.
May I be kind to myself.
May I accept myself as I am in this moment.
May I be held in compassion.
May I be filled with loving-kindness.
May I find joy and equanimity in this moment, just as it is.
- Get in touch with the intention of the words—to offer kindness, compassion, and acceptance. But don’t force it. As your mind wanders, gently refresh the phrases in your heart. Do your best to offer yourself the same kindness, support, and acceptance you’d give a friend who’s struggling. Can you meet all parts of yourself with kindness, nothing left out? If you’re not yet ready, just hold this as an intention and do your best within your capacity, without judgment.
- To close the practice, if you like, extend the compassion outward to all beings by repeating these phrases:
May we all be free of pain and sorrow.
May we all be held in compassion.
May we all be safe and at peace.
