“What You Might Mistake for Genuine Kindness”

CalmMinds MeditationMeditation

“What You Might Mistake for Genuine Kindness”

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Someone recently shared their thoughts with me about using the word “love” to translate “metta,” a Buddhist term often rendered as “lovingkindness.” I must admit, I used to translate metta as love, especially in the guide to the metta bhavana meditation practice on the Wildmind website. (I plan to address this in an upcoming revision of the site.)

These days, I find “kindness” to be a more accurate and less ambiguous translation. After all, there are so many different forms of love, right?

The individual who wrote to me said they didn’t want to cultivate lovingkindness on top of habitual hostility. They described it as putting sugary frosting over something unpalatable, suggesting it can lead to unforeseen negative reactions. If someone acts adversely, the shift from friendliness to aversion could be very unpleasant, potentially provoking aggressive behaviors.

I resonated with this “sugary frosting” metaphor and the idea of underlying aversion. It’s a common scenario: you hold a door for someone, they don’t thank you, and you feel annoyed. You give advice, and it’s dismissed—again, annoying. Personally, I get irritated if I hand something to someone and they don’t take it, as if they’re rejecting or insulting me.

Often, when we think we’re being loving and compassionate, we’re actually just “being nice.” The main goal of being nice is to be liked, which feels good. This is transactional—doing something nice to gain appreciation. But when this doesn’t happen, our instinct is to react with aversion. The person no longer deserves our niceness; instead, they deserve to feel our displeasure.

This “niceness” is what I believe the Buddha referred to in Pali as “pema,” which translates to “love” or “affection.” Pema is conditional, as illustrated by the Buddha’s example: when someone likes and cares for another, and if others also care for that person, we feel love for those others. Conversely, if others hate the person we love, we might end up hating them too. This conditional aspect is the “trap” mentioned by my correspondent.

The Buddha talked about having affection for someone, which could include ourselves. We may strive to be liked—holding doors, giving advice, etc.—to feel good about ourselves. But when others don’t respond as we expect, we turn against them.

This doesn’t align with true kindness or metta. Genuine kindness comes from understanding that another person’s happiness and unhappiness are as real to them as ours are to us. We naturally don’t want to cause suffering and wish to support their well-being. We think and act in ways that are beneficial and affirming to them, even if we offer criticism. If someone acts adversely, rather than punish them, we remain concerned for their well-being.

True kindness is unconditional. It’s based solely on recognizing that others, like us, are feeling beings who prefer happiness and dislike suffering.

Some people say they’re good at loving others but hate themselves. Often, this “love” for others is actually pema. They seek appreciation from others due to a lack of self-love. But no amount of external affirmation can compensate for self-loathing. When others fail to show appreciation, they might feel more self-hate, seeing it as confirmation of their unworthiness.

Personally, it wasn’t until I started empathizing with myself—acknowledging my own feelings and their importance—that I could truly empathize with others. My feelings were real to me, just as others’ feelings were real to them. Recognizing this, I couldn’t ignore their well-being and happiness.

It made me realize that my previous “kindness” and “compassion” were often about being nice and seeking affirmation, driven by a lack of self-kindness. This might not apply to everyone, but it could be relevant to you as well.

Some might wonder why I believe people prefer happiness to suffering. We may gravitate toward suffering due to misunderstanding how it arises, or believing that enduring suffering will eventually lead to happiness—like thinking misery will bring someone to rescue us.

Ultimately, suffering is never our true end goal.