Discover the four ways of loving in Buddhism and how they can guide us in building a more compassionate, liberated world. Maria Rogers Pascual explores these ancient teachings in this blog—essential for anyone looking to lead with love!

Am I leading with love?

It’s the most powerful question I keep asking myself.

Like many of you, I dream of a philanthropic sector deeply rooted in love. Decades of grassroots leadership, study, and deep reflection have shown me that the transformation I seek, ultimately begins with me.

The love I speak of is rigorous. It is hard work when practiced fully and under the pressures of everyday life. Much of it is about practice, a willingness to unlearn, and true courage in facing yourself.

Over the last two years and as part of my professional development at the LeadersTrust, I’ve immersed myself in Buddhist studies as part of my teacher training in mindfulness. These studies revealed an undeniable truth: You cannot fully teach mindfulness without understanding its spiritual origins, which connect us to something far greater than ourselves. The lineage is spiritual, and it is communal.

Mindfulness (sati in Pali) is one of the foundational teachings of the Buddha that leads to liberation, which is essentially freedom from the causes of suffering – greed, aversion and delusion. As one of my teachers, Gil Frondsal, reminds us in his lovely booklet The Issue at Hand  mindfulness is a training in “seeing things as they really are as opposed to seeing them through the often distorted lens of preconceived ideas and interpretations.” This practice has been taught for over 2500 years across the globe and in the context of diverse cultural realities.

In our individualistic capitalist western culture, the practice tends to be disconnected from its spiritual origins. While this has allowed many in mainstream society to access the physical and mental health benefits of mindfulness practices (now confirmed by the scientific community) without fear of religious indoctrination, its intended transformative power is greatly diminished.

My own spiritual upbringing was ambiguous at best, with mostly Catholic undertones connected to my Dad’s Louisiana family and my Mexican cultural upbringing. My mother, a refugee from the Spanish Civil War, was raised as an atheist during her childhood in Communist Russia. At 11, I met a curandero, a Mexican indigenous healer, who inspired me spiritually as I prepared to immigrate to the United States.

Many years later, I discovered my Jewish ancestry and learned that my great-grandmother and her two sisters were killed at Auschwitz. As my father passed away, I found myself yearning for a deeper connection to my grief and ancestors. This led me to explore Shamanism, Sufism and various forms of Buddhism, including Zen, Tibetan and Vipassana.

This summer, as part of the culmination of a year-long program called Liberation through Emptiness and Awareness Practices, I attended a week-long silent retreat. The experience was simple yet profound, reminding me that love is still the path to awakening and to liberation.

When the world’s grief feels unbearable, and when work feels overwhelming– how do we respond? We center love. We become love.

To choose love in these polarized and violent times is not easy. But have times ever been easy? 

What Buddhism can teach us about love:

Foundational Buddhist teachings offer a powerful guide for those of us in philanthropy, seeking to build a new world free from the immense suffering fueled by White supremacy culture. And the magic is in the heart practices. In Pali, the language used to document the Buddha’s teachings, there are four heart practices that are referred to as the Bramavaharas, also known as the immeasurables, the boundless abodes because the heart has no limits.

The first form of love is translated as Loving Kindness (Metta in Pali): Symbolized by the sun in the middle of the sky, this practice is the foundation for everything, the ground from which all other love grows. Showing up with Metta, or “being Metta” as Bikku Analayo teaches, is one of the most powerful liberatory practices. At the LeadersTrust, we embrace liberatory leadership and now explicitly name love as a core of our accompaniment model. This means that with every interaction, the aim is to be heart-centered and kind. Many in our sector might associate this approach with a lack of rigor, but as Thich Nhat Hanh noted, even Buddhist teachers often prefer the term “loving kindness” over “love.” He said: “Words sometimes get sick and we have to heal them.” True love, he taught, is understanding: “You might have the right intention, but if you don’t take the time to fully understand the needs, then it’s not true love.” To love with rigor is to “nurture unconditional love that doesn’t expect anything in return.” This requires that we constantly check our underlying intentions when working with leaders, especially those most vulnerable, on the front lines battling systemic oppression.

The second form of love is Compassion (Karuna). Represented by the sun setting, compassion deepens our empathy as the day ends. It not only provides space for individuals to be seen and to grieve, but it actively seeks to alleviate suffering and uphold justice. I have learned that compassion is more about liberating ourselves from the causes of suffering – greed, hatred and delusion – rather than feeling the pain of others. This form of love is often misunderstood as passive. Inspired by the goddess of compassion, Quan Yin, which means “one who hears the cries of the world” they (at times a woman, other times male, or non-binary perhaps) are sometimes portrayed as a fierce warrior armed with weapons. Showing up with compassion often requires putting a STOP to behaviors that are harmful to ourselves and others. Other times it requires a “raw tenderness” as Zenju affirms in her book The Way of Tenderness: Awakening through Race, Sexuality and Gender. “This tenderness is of a wounded nature. We are all sore from hatred. Our tenderness is our aching, sensitivity, and ultimately our vulnerability … experiences of hatred, whether giving or receiving it, have no boundaries. One cannot hate without experiencing it.”

Joy (Mudita) is the third form of love. Symbolized by the first light of dawn, joy celebrates the beauty and success of others and the power of a new dawn, a new day! Imagine genuinely rejoicing in the happiness of our grassroots leaders? Leading with JOY and abundance at the center? For me this means pausing and taking the time to fully acknowledge the wins. Too often I find myself falling into a scarcity mindset that comes with a sense of urgency to fix all the challenges that leaders are facing when what is really being called for is to pause and lift up the big and small things that we have advanced, especially in the context of so much adversity. Just yesterday I was on a learning and reflection call with a couple of young organizational leaders that had persevered through the pandemic, the struggles of their immigrant communities in the face of hateful policies and I remembered to pause and name the wins. I felt the energy in the room shift – we became lighter and more joyful and that gave us energy to take a look at the internal challenges with open eyes and less judgment.

Finally, there is Equanimity (Upekkha). Represented by the moon– a steady, calm, powerful light that reflects the sunlight from the other forms of love. The ability to hold complexity, to not get swept up by polarizing beliefs. I used to believe, like many others do, that equanimity is indifference. Quite the opposite., Gil Frondsal tells us that equanimity is “a profound form of love. Love which is not easily rattled. Not easily swinging to dismay, anger or hopelessness, despair, fear. Wisdom to stay balanced and clear. Loving but not reactive.” Equanimity ensures that one remains centered, free of ego, guiding actions with the compass of loving kindness amidst all the chaos. The leaders and organizations we work with (including our own) are not immune to the extreme conditions we are living in, not to mention the intergenerational trauma that exists in our bodies. Equanimity in my experience, is the toughest form of love. When things go awry, the impulse to jump in with urgency to fix a problem can be blinding. Other times the impulse is just the opposite and looks more like a threat to withdraw support, funding or otherwise, when what is being called for is to stay the course.

For me, this framework, these four ways of loving, is my compass because I get lost. I’m in my 60s and I still get lost all the fucking time. I still have to remind myself of our interconnectedness–challenging the illusion of separation.

This practice is also about self-reflection and deep self-love. I was taught to be kind to others, but not to myself. I was taught to serve, to give, to build. I’ve learned that the greatest way to support my own daughters is to show them that I’m loving myself and extending that love to others. Ultimately, they learn by watching what I do, not what I say.

If we want a philanthropic sector that is liberatory and love-centered, we have to do it, we have to be it! The times when love is most essential are often the hardest at work.

Instead of a call to action for our sector, I’m looking in the mirror. And the questions remain big—am I loving myself and leading with that love in my life and my work?

Sometimes the answer is yes, other times it’s a no. The journey doesn’t get easier, but my resolve deepens. It becomes a spiritual practice where the real magic happens and the path forward unfolds.

An invitation

If you’re curious about Mindfulness and digging into the spiritual nature of our collective work, I am hosting a 6-month virtual community on Monday mornings to help us live and practice these lessons.

Practicing alone is powerful; practicing together is transformational. Join me! Join us! Fill out this interest form and we’ll be in touch with more details about how to sign up.

Gratitude

I know that I’m not alone in my dreams and I’m inspired by my colleagues leading the way by practicing rigorous radical love – people like Claudia Arroyo and my beautiful sisters at Prospera.

The amazing women who have guided me over the years like Diana Mari Lee, Mari Ryono, Helen Kim, Paula Morris, Holly Delany Cole.

New connections like, Jonathan Relucio, Ratna Sinroja, Tannia Esparza, Vickie Oldman, Tamara Moore, Viveka Chen and the folks at Co-lab Collective, Carmen Morcos, Susan Misra, Amate Perez, Aja Couchois Duncan and the folks at Change Elemental, ChE from FreedomLand.

Co-conspirators like Janet Nami Macintyre from the Resilience Initiative, and CR Hibbs at the Ho Family Foundation Global that are investing in bringing mindfulness and healing justice to our sector.

Bright shining lights like Shiree Teng and her work with Measuring Love in the Journey for Justice and Masha Chernyak who taught me that philanthropy can lead with love out loud, and who to this hour encourages me to speak out. I love all of you and so many more of you not mentioned here. You know who you are!

I am ever so grateful to have access to such profound teachings offered by these ancient practices, and to teachers like Venerable Bhikkhu Analayo who guided and immersed us in the expansive heart practices at the culminating retreat, reminding us of the altruistic intent of the practice. I am also deeply appreciative for the wisdom of so many other engaged and radical Buddhist teachers like Thich Nhat Hanh, Lama Rod Owens, Ruth King, Zenju Earthlyn Manuel and many others who continue to illuminate the path for me and help me make sense of the connections between my cultural conditioning and racial positionality, my spiritual practice, and the work I do in the world. With their guidance I am reminded again and again that mindfulness and meditation practices are designed to teach us how to love fiercely in the midst of chaos and hardship, in this body and in this time.