Meditation and Compassion

by Nina 

Lake Tahoe by Melina Meza

“Nonetheless, the current finding is the first to clearly show the power of meditation to increase compassionate responding to suffering, even in the face of social pressures to avoid so doing. As such, it provides scientific credence to ancient Buddhist teachings that meditation increases spontaneous compassionate behavior.” —Paul Condon, et al

Just a quick heads-up today about a recent scientific study about the effects of meditation practice on compassion that was written up in last Sunday’s NY Times The Morality of Meditation.

In my post Practicing Yoga Off the Mat, I wrote about my desire to cultivate compassion toward others in my life to foster better relationships. In that post, I cited Yoga Sutra 1.33 in describing my off-the-mat practice:

By cultivating an attitude of friendship toward those who are happy, compassion toward those in distress, joy toward those who are virtuous, and equanimity toward those who are nonvirtuous, lucidity arises in the mind. —trans. by Edwin Bryant

Lately we’ve also been addressing meditation on the blog. In Is Meditation an Essential Part of Yoga Practice, Timothy wrote about the importance of meditation, describing it as “a fabulous tool to study your mind and slowly gain more control over it.” But according to Buddhist tradition, meditation also provides important inter-personal benefits as well. This is why a group of people, including psychologist Paul Condon, neuroscientist Gaëlle Desbordes and Buddhist lama Willa Miller, decided to conduct a study looking at these particular benefits to the practice:

“Contemplative science has documented a plethora of intra-personal benefits stemming from meditation, including increases in gray matter density (Hölzel, Carmody, et al., 2011), positive affect (Moyer et al., 2011) and improvement in various mental health outcomes (Hölzel, Lazar, et al., 2011). Strikingly, however, much less is known about the inter-personal impact of meditation. Although Buddhist teachings suggest that increases in compassionate responding should be a primary outcome of meditation (Davidson & Harrington, 2002), little scientific evidence exists to support this conjecture.” —Paul Condon, et al

For this study, the scientists recruited 39 people from the Boston area who were willing to take part in an eight-week course on meditation (and who had never taken any such course before). They randomly assigned 20 of them to take part in weekly meditation classes, which also required them to practice at home with recordings, while they told the remaining 19 that they had been placed on a waiting list for a future course.

After the eight-week period of instruction, the scientists staged a situation designed to test the participants’ behavior before they were aware that there was an experiment. Would a participant who was waiting in the lab’s waiting area give up his or her seat when a fourth person, using crutches and wearing a boot for a broken foot, entered the room and audibly sighing in pain entered the room in which all seats were taken and the other two people ignored her? The scientists reported that the results were significant because while only 16 percent of the non-meditators gave up their seats, the proportion rose to 50 percent among those who had meditated. And this after only eight weeks of practice!

Of course, the question that immediately arises is: why would eight weeks of meditation have this effect on a person’s compassion for others? At this point, they can only speculate. David DeSteno, one of the scientists, wrote in the NY Times article:

“Although we don’t yet know why meditation has this effect, one of two explanations seems likely. The first rests on meditation’s documented ability to enhance attention, which might in turn increase the odds of noticing someone in pain (as opposed to being lost in one’s own thoughts). My favored explanation, though, derives from a different aspect of meditation: its ability to foster a view that all beings are interconnected.”

Regardless of why it works, using meditation to cultivate compassion will no doubt help foster better relationships not just with total strangers but also with people in your life. If you’re not already meditating and want to start, see Timothy’s post Starting a Meditation Practice.

Practicing Yoga Off the Mat

by Nina 

Rock Close Up by Brad Gibson

This sutra prescribes a kind of mindfulness or mental cultivation off the mat, so to speak, that is, in day-to-day affairs outside of the context of citta-vritti-nirodha-type meditation. Cultivating the higher qualities of sattva is a continuous and constant requirement of the yogic path and spills over into all aspects of life’s affairs and social interactions. It speaks to the fact that yoga need not be perceived as a world-renouncing tradition but is perfectly compatible with engaged and benevolent social action in the world. —Edwin Bryant

In my home practice, I’ve worked on some pretty challenging yoga poses in my day (dropping from headstand into a backbend, for example), but the most challenging yoga practice I’ve ever attempted is something I’ve taken up lately, off the mat. In fact, it’s the practice recommended by the yoga sutra that Edwin Bryant was referring to in the above quote:

Yoga Sutra 1.33. By cultivating an attitude of friendship toward those who are happy, compassion toward those in distress, joy toward those who are virtuous, and equanimity toward those who are nonvirtuous, lucidity arises in the mind. —trans. by Edwin Bryant

In classical yoga, the intent of this practice is for cultivating the peace of mind (“lucidity arises in the mind”) that is a necessary prerequisite for achieving the union with the divine that is yoga. However, I’m adopting this practice (or trying to, anyway) for other reasons as well. One of my main reasons is to help me maintain good relationships as I age. (I want the richness of life that comes with that, not just the health benefits....)

In talking with some of my older friends, I’ve been noticing that many of them seem to be getting fed up with each other. They talk about this one being angry all the time or that one being lonely due to his or her own bad behavior in the past. And I can’t help but feel a little more compassion might go a long way to preserving these long-time friendships. It’s something Brad and I have been discussing, and we have agreed to try to cultivate more compassion for those in distress (as well as all that other stuff in the sutra 1.33) for the benefit of all our relationships in the long run.

I have to confess practice is very difficult for me, however. I tend to very judgmental, probably because that’s how I was raised. My parents were very snobbish—although that’s a word they wouldn’t use themselves—about people who didn’t share their values and tastes. I wonder now if that was a result of them both being the children of immigrants, and the hard times they had as children fitting in to the American mainstream. It’s not the stereotypical story—they were artistic types who taught me to disdain people who had a lot of money but no taste—but it’s still a story of people who used their judgments of others as a shield for their feelings of insecurity. I also tend to be very envious of other people’s successes (rather than happy for them). I don’t know if this was also a family pattern—I do know my father suffered from feelings of failure because he never lived up the expectations that he and others had for him when he was a young art prodigy—but it’s something I’ve observed about myself time and time again. And all these samskaras  (thought patterns) run very deep.

So how am I beginning my practice of this challenging form of yoga? For now, I’m starting with mindfulness in my thoughts and feelings about others. And when I catch myself moving toward (or leaping to) judgment, I remind myself that there is another attitude I can take: compassion. As Stephen Cope says in Yoga and the Quest for the True Self:

I have said that samskaras are like ruts in a road, and that as the ruts deepen through repetition, it becomes inevitable that the car will slide into them unawares. Any intentional effort to restrain the car from slipping into the rut is called tapas.

Tapas requires a particular kind of attention—precisely the kind required when driving on a rutted road. We need to be awake. We need to be concentrated in order to avoid the edges of the ruts. And sometimes we need to pull the car wheels—with considerable effort—out of the ridges in the road.

Friday Q&A: Death of a Student

Q: I am a yoga teacher on the East Coast & have been teaching for 6 years. Last week, I found out a young student in one of my gym classes died (suicide, 2 weeks ago). He had been attending this class fairly regularly for the past 2+ years. The class is small, but it is not the type of environment where the students have developed close relationships with one another. They show up, practice & leave (it’s an evening class). We would have a few minutes before class to sit & wait for the earlier class to finish, but that’s the extent of any interaction that I’m aware of taking place.

I am struggling with whether or not I say anything to the group or let it go. He occasionally attended the class with a young woman, who it seemed he knew from outside of class, but I'm not sure how.

Any words of wisdom would be appreciated!

A: Firstly, let me express my sadness at your loss. Although I have not lost any students to suicide, I have had students who died suddenly, and found I was impacted by the loss more than I would have anticipated. Then, of course, there are two questions that seem to arise: Do I share this with the rest of the class? And, from a teaching perspective, how do I cultivate community in settings where it does not yet exist in a very tangible form?

I don’t think there is right answer to the first question, as many variables might influence the decision to tell the group of the death of a fellow student. But I, too, teach in a gym setting twice a week and have done so for almost 10 years now. I sometimes feel a lack of community there as well, although in reality, I have some students who regularly attend these classes, some for many years. Remembering this encourages me to speak with this group in the same way I do my studio students where community is perhaps more obvious. And every time I do share some difficult or personal information that has some relevance to our work together, I am invariably delighted with the feedback that I receive, and the interactions amongst the students that ensue. So, if you’d like a greater sense of community, situations like this and many others are perfect ways to get students connecting in ways beyond just their asana, pranayama and meditation practices.

One of my favorite sutras, which I have probably alluded to before, but which has some relevance here, is 1.33, where Patanjali gives some of the only guidance in his collection of sutras about how to behave and interact with one another. 

1.33. By cultivating friendliness towards happiness and compassion towards misery, gladness towards virtue and indifference towards vice, the mind becomes pure.

Here Patanjali suggests practicing compassion, karuna, when encountering suffering (misery in this translation), dukha. How one applies that, he does not say, but the reality of this loss to suicide, shared and discussed openly, may have the beneficial effect of making all of your students feel more connected, less lonely, and perhaps could conceivably prevent another such loss. All the best to you, your students and all of our readers this holiday season!

—Baxter