An Unusual Way to Love Others

You are the wind, and you see yourself in the distance.

You see a human. The human “you” sits in a red chair at the center of a room, head leaning back, eyes closed, a half smile on their lips.  You are they. This is their house, and though you don’t recognize it, they feel at home here.  Their place is shaped like a dome.  The windows and skylights, strangely curved, are open to the sky.  You twirl about the human, causing their hair to dance with the motion.  With a dance of your own, you create a protective circle around them and whisper your famous words:

May you be happy.
May you be safe. 
May you be at peace.
May you be free from suffering.

Your human is safe.  It’s okay to leave them.

You raise yourself out of the house. You drift beyond the roof and garden. The town lies ahead. Here the air is alive with movement, with frolicking green flags, music blaring over loudspeakers, couples dancing, and milkshakes passed out to all.  There’s an enormous restaurant.  It’s packed to the rim with people you care about, whether family or acquaintance. Everyone is here. Each is dressed brightly and cheerfully: your partner (how stunning!), your parents & brother, your friends and acquaintances and distant contacts…everyone you care about, they’ve all come.  You circle each individual. You offer protection. You whisper your famous words.

May you be happy.
May you be safe. 
May you be at peace.
May you be free from suffering.

It’s time, you know.  You take another flight, this one to the peripheries of town, where water meets land, and shores are spread out for miles.  The sand is a brilliant bronze.  The sun is kind.  The people here, you recognize them too.  These are your enemies.  This person hurt you.  That person hurt someone you care about.  As the wind you study each person protectively, exploring their faces with no judgment, no ill will.  They’re human, you see.  Their hearts ache just as yours.  You whisper your famous words.

May you be happy.
May you be safe. 
May you be at peace.
May you be free from suffering.

Leaving old enemies behind, you lean into the sea, passing submarines and cruise ships and sailboats filled with strangers.  You push yourself farther, as far as you can go, and reach lands even more distant.  Here all past and future humanity reside… all the tears, tragedy, ecstasy, such a long, long story.  You circle history protectively. You share your famous words.

May you be happy.
May you be safe. 
May you be at peace.
May you be free from suffering.

As the wind you’ve embraced all history.  Now turn to the universe as you know it, whether it’s God or energy or a vacant lot with questions – and embrace it.  Bless your gods, bless that vacant lot. Share your famous words with whoever listens.

May you be happy.
May you be safe. 
May you be at peace.
May you be free from suffering.

It’s a short trip back to your human. They’ve not risen from the chair. They’ve not moved. You swing open both arms and pull the human to your bosom, holding their figure — until the human is you. You say the words you need to hear.

May I be happy.
May I be safe. 
May I be at peace.
May I be free from suffering.

Finally, you don bright dress and a brighter smile and cycle down to town. The wheels can’t take you fast enough. The world awaits you.

And may you be at peace.

What was that!?

That was a visual and slightly altered version of a Buddhist practice called “metta,” a combination of meditation and chanting where intentions of kindness are shared with everyone, including the universe at large. It’s also called a “compassion meditation.”

“If you wish to know the divine, feel the wind on your face and warm sun on your hand.”
-Buddha