We Buddhists love numbered lists. We have the Three Jewels, the Four Noble Truths, the Five Precepts, the Six Perfections, the Seven Factors of Awakening, the Eightfold Path, and…need I go on?
Literacy was rare in Gautama Buddha’s day and for centuries afterward, so teaching and learning involved storytelling and memorization. Numbered lists were a favored mnemonic. They survived being transcribed into books and eventually the World Wide Web. The brahmaviharas (translated loosely from Pali as “sublime attitudes”) are another list of four, also known as the Four Immeasurables. They are loving-kindness, compassion, empathetic joy, and equanimity. Lama Surya Das, always quick with wordplay, calls them the heartitudes.
It's important to note that Buddhist words and phrases have been translated from memorized oral teachings in a language close to Pali and transcribed and translated numerous times over two and a half millennia. Despite semantic debates over the precise meaning of each term, here’s my understanding of them as used in Buddhism:
Loving-kindness refers to an attitude of warmth toward all beings. We might call it good-heartedness.
Compassion is an intense desire — or drive — to reduce suffering. It’s reaching out in ways big and small.
Empathetic Joy means you share the ups of others as well as the downs. Maybe it’s easier to share the downs in part because, at that moment, they're not happening to you. With empathetic joy, you’re happy for your acquaintance who got a promotion. If you wanted that job, maybe you’re disappointed for yourself but still joyful for her or him.
Equanimity. This word and the attitude it describes can easily be misunderstood as indifference to the suffering of others. That’s why I present it in the context of the other three brahmaviharas, which are indifferent to neither joy nor suffering. This one is about taking whatever comes on an even keel.
The Great Way is not difficult for those who have no preferences. — Jianzhi Sengcan (circa 496-606), the Third Zen Patriarch
It’s not a sin to prefer chocolate over vanilla (as I do), but I hope my emotions don’t get too wrapped up in my ice cream flavor. At a dinner hosted by a friend, receiving either as a dessert is a gift I’ll accept with equal grace (or at least I hope I will). Maybe that example came to mind because Buddhists sometimes use “one taste” to mean equanimity.
Here’s how my first face-to-face Buddhist teacher put it almost four decades ago:
It’s OK to want a Maserati. It’s not OK if you think your happiness depends on getting a Maserati.
If we’re sane, we’ll prefer peace to war, justice to injustice, and so on. But even here, if we’re going to act rationally, we can’t let emotion overcome us. We’ll do more good in the world if we act out of loving-kindness and compassion rather than emotion. And it’s hard to know what actions lead to better outcomes. Consider the Taoist parable of the farmer as passed along by Alan Watts:
Once upon a time, there was a Chinese farmer whose horse ran away. That evening, all of his neighbors came around to commiserate. They said, “We are so sorry to hear your horse has run away. This is most unfortunate.” The farmer said, “Maybe.”
The next day, the horse returned bringing seven wild horses with it, and in the evening, everybody came back and said, “Oh, isn’t that lucky. What a great turn of events. You now have eight horses!” The farmer again said, “Maybe.”
The following day, his son tried to break one of the horses. While riding it, he was thrown and broke his leg. The neighbors said, “Oh dear, that’s too bad,” and the farmer responded, “Maybe.”
The next day, the conscription officers came around to conscript people into the army, and they rejected his son because he had a broken leg. Again, all the neighbors came around and said, “Isn’t that great!” Again, he said, “Maybe.”
Even when we act with the best intentions, we can’t be sure of the result.
If you’re familiar with the story of Siddhartha Gautama, who was to become the Buddha, he went from growing up as a pampered prince to becoming a mendicant practicing self-mortification to achieve enlightenment. It wasn’t until he found a “middle way” between those extremes that he became the Buddha, or the awakened one.
Equanimity can be thought of as a middle way between passion and indifference.
Of course, reaching out to those in need matters and creates positive karma in our interwoven world, as expressed by my dear friend singer/songwriter Andrew McKnight in this performance:
As I’ve expressed in earlier posts, I’m confident that we are interwoven in ways we don’t understand and may never fully understand. We’re either literally all one or, if not, something connects us as if we were one. So, becoming a better person, meditating, praying, chanting, and doing good make the world better. We create ripples or waves. Conducting ourselves with equanimity as well as loving-kindness, compassion, and empathetic joy all reduce suffering for ourselves and others.
Here’s the common Buddhist prayer, often recited daily, known as the Four Immeasurables:
May all beings have happiness and the inner causes of happiness. (loving-kindness) May all beings be free from suffering and the inner causes of suffering. (compassion) May they never be parted from the sacred joy that is free from suffering. (empathetic joy) May they abide in great equanimity, free from attachments and aversions near and far. (equanimity)
I invite you to share your thoughts on and understanding of the brahmaviharas and my explanation of them. The comments section is open to everyone for this post.
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