Concerns about how metta practice should be expressed externally
"A couple of examples of how this one can show up:
“I don’t know how I’m supposed to express this metta; it feels awkward/fake/scary/etc. to do so”
“but there’s just so much suffering in the world - it’s overwhelming - what can I possibly do in the face of all that suffering? If I commit to a metta practice, does that equate to a commitment to devoting myself entirely to solving every problem in the world?”
This was the first obstacle that I remember having when trying to practise metta meditation; whenever I felt some metta get going, part of my mind would go “oh no, now there’s some pressure to express this outwardly”. That possibility felt so different to my usual mode of relating to others that the metta felt quite disruptive, disorienting, and scary. A lot of my protective mechanisms were based on creating a safe, sterile distance from other people; when this feeling of great warmth and care showed up, it scared me. What if it makes me get closer to people!
It took me a while to realise that metta isn’t about cultivating a tendency to indiscriminately and extrovertedly express love to everybody in my immediate vicinity (fortunately!). Nor is it about selflessly devoting yourself to others with no regard for your own needs and capacities. You won’t lose control or forget about your other priorities when you cultivate metta. Nor will you lose your ability to sensibly regulate your own energy, capacities, and responsibilities.
If you’re noticing anything like this arising for you, this is worth keeping in mind. In fact, how you behave externally may hardly change at all for some time as you progress in metta practice. It’s usually impossible to know in advance how the development of metta will express itself.
Somebody skilled in metta will, for example, generally be more able to stand up for themselves or others with a kind of firmness grounded in that sense of self-acceptance and stable okayness. Metta certainly does not always show up as softness or gentleness.
In Tibetan Buddhism, even the Bodhisattva of compassion has wrathful forms which express this strong, protective facet of compassion:
Metta goes where it’s needed, and much of the time, where it’s needed is with you. Many of us try to pour from an empty cup, or push through resistance too brashly. If you’re noticing that you have parts of yourself which resist expressing metta outwardly, there are probably very good reasons for that which you don’t want to just ignore. Often those very parts of yourself which resist are where your metta is most needed.
Try to remember this and be gentle if you notice pressure from yourself to express metta in a certain way, or the expectation that it “should” show up in a certain way. It doesn’t work to try to force your metta to grow on the cushion, and this doesn’t work off-cushion either. Metta is a capacity which grows organically, in its own time, and trying to force it usually restricts it.
“I don’t feel worthy of love”
Metta isn’t the kind of thing that one needs reasons to be worthy of. You were deserving of metta when you were a baby; before you could act, or speak, or think, and your deservingness hasn’t changed since then. There’s simply nothing you have to do, or to be, to deserve metta. You are not more worthy, nor less worthy, nor equally worthy of metta than anybody else. Questions of worthiness and comparison simply do not apply.
Sometimes - though not always - a feeling of unworthiness, a reluctance to cultivate metta for yourself, arises from a fear that if you accept yourself how you are, you won’t be driven enough to do whatever things feel necessary to earn others’ approval, acceptance, or love. If you notice this it’s probably worth exploring.
It is true that self-hatred, fear, shame, or a deep sense of lacking worthiness can be a powerful whip to act effectively. Soothing this pain through self-love can therefore lead to a kind of interstitial period where the engine that you’ve relied on, perhaps for your whole life, to motivate yourself, is no longer working like it used to (you already feel worthy of love, so why do all this?), and acting out of authentic passion and joy doesn’t feel familiar. This period can be bumpy, with old whips trying to reassert themselves and justify their existence. However, on the other side is another, more sustainable relationship with effort, action, and achievement; one borne out of authenticity, joy, and curiosity. Self-love doesn’t mean giving up on developing oneself or doing shit.
I can recommend Self-Compassion by Kristin Neff as a wonderful book about the practice and of self-compassion (here’s her TED talk on the topic).
Brené Brown’s work is also valuable on the topic of shame and not feeling worthy. I enjoyed her book The Gifts of Imperfection.
“I need care myself - I’m trying to pour from an empty cup, and part of me resents giving away to others what I don’t have myself”
If you’re noticing some resentment about giving metta to others when it feels as though you need it yourself, then start with yourself! You could use yourself as the target of metta, or utilise a practice like the ideal other where you receive metta from another.
This isn’t a selfish thing to do; metta isn’t a limited resource that you’re taking away from others. It’s more like a flame that grows by being spread around. Metta grows by going where it’s needed. If you feel a need for love within yourself, if you feel as though you’re trying to pour from an empty cup, that’s a sign that you need to bring some of that within yourself for a while, and let the fire spread until you have enough of a sense of abundance that giving to others feels easy and natural, rather than forced.