Why equanimity matters—and how to cultivate it
Equanimity is one of the most powerful tools I’ve learned from Buddhism. Almost every day, I find myself in situations that call for equanimity.
For example:
- When I’m dealing with an annoying friend to whom I’ve given a ton of constructive input but doesn’t seem to change.
- When I try to help one of my parents take better care of their health and they revert to their old behavior.
- When I start freaking out about the scale of global warming.
- When I’m talking to someone whose politics are totally different from mine.
What do all these scenarios have in common? Ultimately, I don’t have direct control over any of them.
When we feel like things are out of our control, it’s easy to feel anxious, or to make other people wrong. But the more anxious or ready to blame we are, the more hopeless and depressed we tend to feel.
So what can we do instead?
Whenever we’re in a situation that brings up anxiety, we can ask ourselves what, if anything, we can do to impact the situation. What’s within our control—and what isn’t? Understanding this difference is the first step towards equanimity.
What is equanimity?
Equanimity literally means “standing in the middle." It refers to the balance that results from inner stability.
Another way to think of it is remaining centered when surrounded by turmoil.
In Buddhism, they use the phrase, “It is what it is, it is like this” to describe what it means to experience equanimity.
How can you bring more equanimity into your life?
Let’s look at the situation with my annoying friend who doesn’t seem to change, no matter how much constructive input I give them.
I could approach this in a couple of ways:
a) I could try to force them to be different, or manipulate them in some way, to let them know that I need them to change.
b) I can tell myself that this is who they are. They are like this. Sometimes they can’t hear me. And they’re doing the best they can.
If I go with option a), I’m likely to put my friend on the defensive and add to the feeling that we don’t understand one another.
If I choose option b), I’m coming at the situation from a place of compassion. I’m not taking their behavior personally. I am accepting who they are. I’m assuming they have good intentions when it comes to our friendship—and they can feel that.
Another way to cultivate more equanimity in this situation would be to look at my friend in the context of their attachment style. Knowing that they experienced an attachment injury as a kid—and understanding how that injury could be contributing to their behavior—makes it so much easier to feel compassion for them. They don’t mean to be annoying. They just don’t have the capability—or the tools—to act differently right now.
And what if we’re in a situation where we want one of our parents to take better care of their health? How do we access equanimity in this case?
It’s easy to fall into nagging them about eating better and exercising. And bugging them about going to the doctor every time they complain about an ache or pain.
Whenever we do this, more often than not, our parents resist.
Why? The more forceful we are about trying to change someone’s health, the more likely they are to hide their decisions and feel bad about themselves. Essentially, we’re telling them they’re wrong. Though we feel like we’re demonstrating our love, what we’re telling them is they need to be different.
What can we do instead? How could we approach this type of situation in the spirit of equanimity?
Again, it comes down to differentiating what we can and cannot control. We can trust our parents to make their own decisions when it comes to their health. We can remind ourselves that—as much as we care about them and want to protect them—we can’t change something about them that they don’t want or are unable to change about themselves.
Equanimity is *not* apathy
Equanimity isn’t the same as apathy. It isn’t about going away and detaching from the situations that provoke anxiety. It is about staying connected, and doing our best to show compassion, to accept people exactly as they are.
Equanimity isn’t about never having a political conversation, never seeing if your parents want some help improving their health, never giving your friend input about what brings you closer to them, or not buying an electric car.
Equanimity is about getting yourself in a loving, balanced, accepting place before you assess whether you want to take action (and whether it is productive to do so).
Equanimity allows you to move freely, acting from your highest self and feeling the best you can in the process.
Yes, it can be challenging to practice equanimity, especially in emotionally charged situations.
At the same time, I invite you to observe what happens when you exercise equanimity. Notice how it impacts your relationships with others—and your relationship with yourself.
The more you experience what a difference equanimity can make in your life, the easier it becomes to practice it. I know this was the case for me.
Do you want to learn more about how to realign your relationship with your emotions? In my book, Life Launch, I offer clear, easy-to-apply strategies for coping with anxiety, depression, and anger—and bringing more calm into your life. Download a sample chapter here. Bonus: Watch my TEDx talk on anxiety here.