Metta
What Metta Means to Me
Metta, often translated as loving-kindness, is not theoretical for me. Years ago, I attended a 7-day silent metta retreat, where I practiced loving-kindness all day, every day. In that sustained container, I experienced something that has stayed with me: metta is not just a “nice idea.” It is a form of mind-training that can shift the emotional tone of consciousness when it is practiced consistently.
Metta traditionally uses repeated phrases such as:
May I be safe.
May I be healthy.
May I be peaceful.
May I live with ease.
While metta comes from Buddhist contemplative traditions, it is now studied in psychological research as an intervention that can increase positive emotions and strengthen personal resources over time (Fredrickson et al., 2008). It can also influence immediate feelings of social connection, even in brief practice (Hutcherson et al., 2008).
The Power of Metta: What I Noticed and What Research Supports
During retreat, the most striking shift I observed was what happened when I repeatedly replaced the monkey mind, the rumination, the worry loops, the compulsive problem-solving, the cognitive overdrive, with deliberate phrases of loving-kindness. It wasn’t that difficult thoughts vanished. It was that they had less oxygen.
Over time, I noticed: when the mind is repeatedly given a new “default sentence”—May I be kind to myself—the nervous system often follows. This lived experience aligns with research suggesting loving-kindness meditation can build positive emotion and, through that, support broader psychological resources (Fredrickson et al., 2008). A systematic review and meta-analysis also found kindness-based meditation is associated with improvements in well-being, particularly compared to passive controls (Galante et al., 2014).
Metta also overlaps with a closely related construct: self-compassion, typically defined as self-kindness, common humanity, and mindful awareness (Neff, 2003a). Across intervention research, cultivating self-compassion is associated with reductions in depression, anxiety, and stress (Han et al., 2023). In clinical practice, that matters, because the inner climate we create impacts how clients (and we) metabolize distress.
Why “Fake It Till You Make It” Actually Makes Sense Here
I want to name something important: metta can feel “fake” at first, especially if your inner voice has been harsh for years. But in my view, not believing it is often the clearest signal to begin.
Here’s why.
1) You are interrupting rumination with a different neural groove
Rumination tends to recycle threat-based content and reinforces the brain’s habit of scanning for problems. Metta gives the mind an alternative track to run on: intention, warmth, goodwill. You are not arguing with the mind; you are redirecting it.
This is consistent with cognitive-behavioral principles: repeated practice can reduce the dominance of automatic thought patterns by changing how you relate to them and what you rehearse instead (Chand & Arif, 2023).
2) You are practicing a stance, not forcing a belief
When I practiced metta intensely during retreat, I didn’t need to “believe” every phrase. I needed to offer it. Over time, the emotional system began to recognize the stance as credible through repetition and consistency.
This maps to self-compassion theory: self-kindness is an alternative to self-judgment that can be strengthened with practice (Neff, 2003a).
3) Action can lead emotion, not the other way around
“Fake it till you make it,” when done well, is not denial. It is the choice to behave in alignment with a healthier internal relationship before it feels natural. This idea is reflected in behavioral approaches where structured practice and action can shift mood and functioning over time (Cuijpers et al., 2023).
In other words, I am the only person who will be with me from birth until death. That truth changes everything. If I am going to receive steady kindness in this life, the most dependable source has to begin inside my own skin. If not me, who? I can appreciate comfort from others, but I no longer build my emotional stability on waiting for someone else to validate me or rescue me from my own distress. I practice becoming the person I can rely on. In other words, I don’t wait until I feel compassionate to practice compassion. I practice it so it can become more available when I need it.
The Process: A Practical Metta Practice I Return To
Below is a structure I use and teach because it is simple enough to repeat, and repetition is what makes this practice potent.
Step 1: Settle (30–60 seconds)
I take a seat, soften my jaw, and feel contact points (feet, seat, hands). I take 2–3 slower breaths.
Step 2: Begin with “believable metta” (2–3 minutes)
If classic phrases feel too big, I scale down.
May I be kind to myself in this moment.
May I meet this with care.
May I not add suffering to suffering.
This matters clinically: if the phrase triggers internal pushback, I’m not failing, I’m learning where the wound is.
First, I direct metta to myself
I begin with myself. If I want a steady source of kindness, it has to start here. Self-metta also helps me build an inner refuge I can rely on rather than waiting for external reassurance, which aligns with the broader self-compassion stance of meeting suffering with care rather than self-attack (Neff, 2003). These phrases can be ammended to what you need in the moment, these are only suggestions to begin.
Self-metta text (repeat slowly, 2–3 minutes):
May I be safe.
May I be peaceful.
May I be healthy.
May I live with ease.
When my mind argues or drifts, I don’t debate it. I simply return to the next phrase. If the words feel unbelievable, I make them smaller and more workable:
May I be willing to be kinder to myself.
May I not make this harder with self-attack.
May I keep beginning.
Second, I direct metta toward someone easy to love
This is the on-ramp. For me, it might be someone I naturally feel warmth toward, a mentor, a dear friend, or a beloved pet. My emotional system usually cooperates here because there’s little threat. This step matters because it helps me generate the felt sense of kindness first (tone, warmth, sincerity) rather than forcing phrases into a cold or defended body.
What tends to be easy: the heart often “opens” without argument.
What can still be hard: grief, longing, or attachment pain can surface when I contact love.
I repeat:
May you be safe.
May you be peaceful.
May you be healthy.
May you live with ease.
Third, I offer metta to a difficult person (only when I’m resourced)
This is advanced practice, and I treat it with clinical seriousness. A “difficult person” is someone who activates threat, resentment, mistrust, fear, anger, or pain. Metta here is not saying what happened was okay. It is not reconciliation. It is not self-abandonment.
It trains me to hold two truths at once:
I can protect myself with boundaries.
I can also refuse to keep my nervous system trapped in hatred, fixation, or rumination.
Why this can be hard (and why that matters):
Protection systems rise up. Parts of me may equate kindness with danger: If I soften, I’ll get hurt again.
Moral pain appears. If harm occurred, my system may feel metta equals excusing injustice. It doesn’t. Metta can coexist with consequences, distance, and accountability.
The body votes before the mind does. Even if I understand the practice cognitively, my physiology may tighten. That tightening is not failure, it’s information, and a cue to titrate.
This is why I only do this step when I’m resourced: grounded, stable, supported, and able to return to self-kindness if I get flooded. That resourcing principle is consistent with self-compassion as a practice of responding to suffering with care rather than self-attack (Neff, 2003).
Fourth, I extend metta to all beings
This step shifts from the personal to the universal. I’m no longer deciding who “deserves” goodwill; I’m practicing an unconditional orientation:
May all beings be safe.
May all beings be peaceful.
May all beings be healthy.
May all beings live with ease.
Why it’s powerful:
It can loosen the tight “me vs. them” mindset and create a wider emotional field.
It often reduces isolation by reconnecting me to common humanity, an idea that aligns conceptually with self-compassion’s emphasis on shared human experience (Neff, 2003).
Why it can be hard:
It can feel abstract or too big for the mind to hold.
If I’m exhausted or burned out, “all beings” can trigger resistance: I can’t possibly care that much.
If I’m in acute pain, universal phrases can feel invalidating unless I return to my own suffering first, beginning again with self-metta.
A simple safety rule I follow: if any category spikes distress, I return to self-metta, then back to an “easy person,” and I stop there if needed. That is not avoidance, it is skillful pacing.
Why repeating the phrases changes something real
When I repeat: May you be safe. May you be peaceful. May you live with ease, I’m giving the mind an alternative to threat-based rehearsal (rumination, defensive problem-solving). Over time, practice can build positive emotion and related personal resources. And across the broader research on kindness-based meditation, there’s evidence of benefits to well-being and social functioning, especially compared with passive controls.
So when I say “goodwill reshapes relational perception,” I mean something specific:
my attention becomes less organized around scanning for danger,
my interpretations soften,
I’m more likely to notice shared humanity,
and I can respond with more steadiness instead of reflex.
That is exactly why even brief loving-kindness practice has been found to increase social connectedness.
Step 4: Integrate (30 seconds)
I ask: What is one small action that reflects this kindness today?
Metta becomes transformative when it meets daily life.
When You Don’t Believe It, That’s All the More Reason to Begin
A common moment in metta is, “I don’t mean these words.” I treat that moment as diagnostic, not disqualifying.
If my inner voice says, You don’t deserve kindness, then the practice is not to debate worthiness. The practice is to introduce a different language anyway, because language shapes perspective. Over time, I have watched this work like a gradual reorientation: when loving-kindness replaces the reflexive rumination and problem-solving loops, the mind begins to accept a new possibility.
And from a research perspective, this is exactly what mind-training is: repeated mental behaviors that become more accessible, more automatic, and more believable through repetition (Fredrickson et al., 2008; Chand & Arif, 2023).
You can change your perspective by beginning, especially when you don’t feel ready.
References
Chand, S. P., & Arif, H. (2023). Cognitive behavior therapy. In StatPearls. StatPearls Publishing.
Cuijpers, P., Karyotaki, E., de Wit, L., & Ebert, D. D. (2023). Individual behavioral activation in the treatment of depression: A meta-analysis. Psychotherapy, 60(3).
Fredrickson, B. L., Cohn, M. A., Coffey, K. A., Pek, J., & Finkel, S. M. (2008). Open hearts build lives: Positive emotions, induced through loving-kindness meditation, build consequential personal resources. Journal of Personality and Social Psychology, 95(5), 1045–1062.
Galante, J., Galante, I., Bekkers, M.-J., & Gallacher, J. (2014). Effect of kindness-based meditation on health and well-being: A systematic review and meta-analysis. Journal of Consulting and Clinical Psychology, 82(6), 1101–1114.
Han, A., Kim, T. H., & Lee, J. (2023). Effects of self-compassion interventions on reducing depressive symptoms, anxiety, and stress: A meta-analysis. Mindfulness.
Hutcherson, C. A., Seppala, E. M., & Gross, J. J. (2008). Loving-kindness meditation increases social connectedness. Emotion, 8(5), 720–724.
Neff, K. D. (2003a). Self-compassion: An alternative conceptualization of a healthy attitude toward oneself. Self and Identity, 2(2), 85–101.
