“Come on, be positive! Don’t be so pessimistic!”
Out of pity, almost everyone offers positive words to someone in deep distress. I used to do it too. It is heartbreaking to see people who once laughed with us suddenly facing a crisis, frustrated, depressed, and unable to find a way out. I felt compelled to help as best I could—at least with motivating words.
However, when I found myself in their shoes, I realized those motivating words felt like poison.
My heart was filled with regret, anxiety, frustration, and anger. How could people ask me to “look on the bright side” when I saw no way out of my situation? Their well-meaning motivation felt like a knife piercing my heart.
After going through my own crisis, I deeply regretted offering hollow motivational phrases to people in pain. Instead, I learned to lend a quiet ear, validate that their pain was real, and share my own practical experiences in dealing with adversity. Almost immediately, the people I approached began to open up, engage in meaningful discussions, and relax as they discovered a grounded perspective on how to navigate their pain.
I share my understanding that life is never static—it is always changing. The end of something we cherish, no matter how painful, eventually gives rise to a new reality. Just as there is no eternal happiness, there is also no eternal pain.
Even those facing terminal illnesses, such as late-stage cancer or organ failure, will not remain in physical pain forever. Death eventually arrives to bring an end to their suffering.
Death should not always be interpreted as the enemy of goodness. Sometimes, it serves as the ultimate relief from unbearable physical and emotional agony. It also marks a new beginning for those left behind. When a family member suffers intensely, the pain is never isolated—the surrounding family suffers alongside them, forced to watch their loved one endure hardship.
In the case of severe illness, we should certainly do everything within our power to regain our health. However, the final outcome is not always within our control; countless external factors dictate reality. When recovery is no longer possible, the wisest path is to accept the outcome and shift our mindset: moving from a desperate struggle to stay alive toward spending our remaining time in dignity, peace, and quiet joy.
How do we achieve this shift?
After years of testing various meditation practices to overcome anxiety and prepare for my own death, I recommend one technique above all others when facing intense suffering: Tonglen.
The Practice of Tonglen
In short, Tonglen is a visualization practice where we breathe in and accept the suffering of others who are in pain just like us, merging their pain with our own. As we breathe out, we send blessings, relief, happiness, and peace to them and to ourselves.
To a beginner, this practice sounds terrifying: Why should we willingly invite more pain and suffering into our minds when we are already hurting and desperately need relief?
The answer lies in the psychological mechanics of the mind:
- Releasing Tension: When we are in pain, our mind fixates on getting rid of it immediately. This resistance creates internal friction, adding a heavy layer of psychological suffering on top of physical pain. By choosing to accept others’ pain, we subtly instruct our mind to stop fighting our own pain, instantly dissolving the mental tension.
- Generating Immediate Relief: When we visualize sending blessings and relief to others, our mind must generate and feel those positive emotions first before projecting them outward. In doing so, our body immediately produces feelings of warmth and compassion.
Step-by-Step Guide to Practicing Tonglen
Tonglen (Tibetan for “sending and receiving”) is a compassion practice where you breathe in the suffering of others and breathe out relief, love, and healing. Here’s how to practice it:
Preparation
1. Find a comfortable seat
Sit upright but relaxed, either cross-legged, on a chair, or lying down. Let your body settle.
2. Settle your mind with breath awareness
Spend a few minutes following your natural breath. Don’t force anything—just arrive in the present moment.
3. Set your intention
Remind yourself why you’re practicing: to awaken compassion and ease suffering—for yourself and others.
The Core Practice
4. Start with yourself (or a loved one)
Begin with someone easy to feel compassion for—yourself, a dear friend, or a pet. Starting with someone you resent is too hard at first.
5. Breathe in suffering
Imagine their pain, fear, or confusion as dark, hot, heavy smoke. Breathe it in through your nostrils. Feel it touch your heart.
6. Transform it at the heart
Imagine your heart as a limitless space of light. The dark smoke dissolves instantly into compassion—not stuck, not overwhelming.
7. Breathe out relief
Breathe out cool, bright, soothing light. Send them whatever they need: peace, joy, safety, healing. Imagine it reaching them.
8. Repeat rhythmically
Inhale: their pain. Exhale: relief. Let it become a steady rhythm, like waves.
Expanding the Practice
9. Widen the circle
Move from one person to:
- Someone neutral (a stranger)
- Someone difficult (a person you dislike)
- All beings everywhere
10. Rest in open awareness
After some time, let go of the visualization and simply rest in the compassion you’ve generated.
11. Dedicate the merit
Close by wishing that whatever benefit arose goes toward the awakening of all beings.
Practical Tips
- Start small—5 to 10 minutes is plenty at first
- Don’t skip the “self” stage—you can’t give what you don’t have
- It’s okay if you don’t feel anything—the intention is what matters
- If it gets heavy, return to breathing out light; don’t drown in others’ pain
- Consistency beats intensity—daily short sessions work best
No one deserves to endure unbearable suffering in life. But when life presents us with unavoidable hardship, let us practice Tonglen—releasing resistance, opening our hearts, and finding peace amid the storm.
Wish you a peaceful, happy, and prosperous life.