A little while ago, I was in the shower, and I started thinking about a financial issue. My bank had mistakenly transferred my money to someone else’s account. As I got caught up in this frustrated thinking, I realized I was getting distracted by something unhelpful. It reminded me of one of the “four worldly winds” from Buddhism: gain and loss. We often think that acquiring and having things is crucial, and losing them is equally significant.
However, unless I’m starving, losing money isn’t a huge problem. I’m told I will eventually get my money back, though it’s taking a while. The money issue is practical and doesn’t need to affect my emotional wellbeing. I shouldn’t let loss influence my sense of happiness.
The other worldly winds include high and low status, approval and disapproval, and pleasure and pain. We often think these are vital to our happiness, but the Buddha didn’t. These are virtual realities we create and believe are important. It can be tough to see our world any other way.
All this flashed through my mind, and then I had a profound realization: The only important thing is to love. This wasn’t just a broad idea but a personal conviction. Love should be the central principle in my life. The worldly winds aren’t important; they’re illusions we think matter.
However, being loving isn’t always easy. Even if we believe love is crucial, we can still act poorly. Our mammalian brains are wired to focus on status and loss, leading us to behave badly when these are threatened. We might know love is essential, but status and other instincts often override it, like when we argue with a partner and refuse to admit we’re wrong. Status can seem more important than love in the moment.
Then, another thought came to me: it’s crucial to love and to remember to love. But as the song by Nine Inch Nails says, “Love is not enough.” Feeling love isn’t enough; we need to act in ways that make others feel loved. In my marriage, I’ve felt deep love for my wife and told her so, but it wasn’t enough because my actions didn’t always reflect that love. Love must be shown, not just felt.
We need to learn how to make others happy and free from suffering, often through empathy and listening. Sometimes, it’s about offering a broader, wiser perspective.
So now I had three guiding principles:
1. The only important thing is to love.
2. And to remember to love.
3. And to keep learning how to show love.
Then, as I continued in the shower, a fourth principle emerged: “Am I being loving right now?” This question prompted me to be more mindful even in small actions, like washing myself with kindness and affection. The hot water felt more meaningful as I embraced these realizations.
So now my guiding principles are:
1. The only important thing is to love.
2. And to remember to love.
3. And to keep learning how to show love.
4. Am I showing love right now?
Although the fourth thought came last, it feels like the key one. It’s a question that encompasses all the others and is one I need to keep returning to.
I’m going to keep reminding myself of these principles. Making “Am I showing love right now?” my mantra seems like brilliant advice.
Who or what exactly is the “I” that knows love? If the “I” is the ego, trying to become more loving might actually strengthen the ego. Many people know the vicious cycle of trying to be loving, getting frustrated, and trying harder, only to struggle more. It can become a daily battle without real change.
The issue isn’t about becoming more loving but becoming more aware of who desires to be more loving. This awareness isn’t about making decisions but about recognizing the awareness itself. This is a deep, simple truth that even the Buddha pointed toward. We are already love itself but don’t believe it because of our mental conditioning. There’s really nothing to “do” because there’s no separate self to do it.
If “I” is the ego, trying to become more loving only strengthens it. The imagined self can’t become stronger, although belief in it can. Cultivating kindness doesn’t have to be a struggle; experienced meditators learn to accept mindfulness’s ebb and flow without anger. Practicing kindness becomes self-sustaining, and you aim for improvement, not perfection.
Mindfulness practice does bring changes, but it’s a lifelong practice. Strong habits might reverse your gains, and deeper conditioning requires time and different approaches. Over time, mindfulness can become an automatic habit.
Non-dual awareness isn’t at odds with object-oriented meditation. You start by striving to be mindful, like climbing a mountain to rest at the top. Once reactivity is overcome, practicing kindness and mindfulness becomes less about effort.
For someone in constant pain, meditation involves observing pain closely to see its true nature. Finding a comfortable posture is essential, whether lying down or using a supportive seat. Meditation can be done in various ways, including lying down to minimize pain.
It’s a misunderstanding to assume that mindfulness permanently changes you without continued effort. Deep conditioning takes persistent practice, but with time, mindfulness can sustain itself. The well of illusion is deep, and true change involves continuous practice and awareness.
Through both calmness (samatha) and insight (vipassana), you change your mental habits and penetrate delusions. While mental states fluctuate, true insight leads to irreversible, spontaneous awakening. Practice mindfulness even with pain by observing it closely and finding comfortable positions, ensuring that meditation remains a sustainable part of your life.
Meditating with love and mindfulness, and accepting the worldly winds, helps put financial worries and other concerns in perspective, allowing for continual growth and deeper understanding.