I have a milestone birthday approaching, and as often happens at such moments, the mind and heart turn toward reflection. Lately, I’ve been revisiting the intricate web of family and friends who support me, hold me, and—yes—sometimes challenge me.
We connect with others for many reasons: for joy, out of care and concern, and to continue to tend to a dynamic we view as important. There are times we turn toward loved ones knowing they can skillfully hold up a mirror to who we truly are, helping us feel seen and loved. And there are other times when connection is far more complicated. On the Buddhist path, we’re taught that there is room for all of it, that difficult thoughts and emotions are not to be pushed away but worked with.
In the past month, two close friends shared with me their tender struggles with family members whose social and political views starkly contradict their own. In each case, they’re wrestling with the pain of holding deep, formative memories with people they no longer feel aligned with in terms of how they move through the world. Conflicted and sometimes confused, many try to draw boundaries while also staying open to the shared history that shaped the connection. As time and experience teach us, love is not always straightforward, generous, or healing.
In this issue, we explore the four immeasurables—loving-kindness, compassion, sympathetic joy, and equanimity—and how these practices can offer a way forward, helping us build connection, and perhaps even heal, in the face of differences that may feel “unhealable.”
Susan Kaiser Greenland offers a helpful perspective on loving-kindness as a kind of armor—not something we don to fight, but as a way of meeting even painful emotions with love and openness. Ellen Harada Crane Sensei explores compassion practice, showing how “small compassion”—seeing another’s pain and wishing to relieve it—is supported and expanded by “great compassion,” an aspiration to hold all beings within a vast, unconditional field of care. Koun Franz teaches that through practicing a variation of tonglen meditation, we can strengthen our capacity to offer, celebrate, and see joy as infinitely shareable. And finally, Gullu Singh brings us into the grounding power of equanimity—a steady heart in the midst of life’s shifting terrain. He speaks of the “grace to yield, to bend, to rise again,” reminding us that when we become preoccupied with getting rid of sharp emotions, we risk becoming fixated on escape and resistance rather than allowing the mind to remain steady and clear.
For me, these teachings illuminate a path: When steadiness is present, we can respond rather than react, moving through difficulty with greater clarity, compassion, and skill. May the immeasurables and the practices that support them offer you a meaningful exploration—and a pathway to work with all the complex, beautiful elements of love and connection in your life.
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