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Unattached Love - Gil Fronsdal

The following talk was given by Gil Fronsdal at Insight Meditation Center in Redwood City, CA on January 18, 2026. Please visit the website www.audiodharma.org for more information.

On the first Sunday of the month, I began talking about a core piece of Buddhist wisdom that I revisit every year: the Four Noble Truths. Last week, I spoke about a core part of Buddhist ethics, which is the first precept—not to kill. Today, I want to discuss a core aspect of our social world and our relationships: our attitude toward others. That attitude is goodwill, the translation I am using for metta¹.

Unattached Love

Metta is one of the foundational cornerstones of our insight practice. Some say that the practice of mindfulness eventually grows together with and becomes inseparable from goodwill—sometimes called loving-kindness or simply kindness. Since the time of the Buddha, there has been a tremendous emphasis on this particular social emotion.

The Buddha often spoke about the wealth of a practitioner. In the ancient world, this usually referred to monastics, but the tradition holds that the terms "monk" or "nun" apply to any layperson practicing the Dharma². While monastics renounce physical wealth, the Buddha said that the wealth of a monastic is their goodwill. Cultivating this inner goodwill is a more reliable and profound form of wealth than anything physical. It is a wonderful generosity of spirit, characterized by friendliness and care for others.

The Buddha even said that if a practitioner abides in just one moment of goodwill, they are truly practicing the Buddha's teaching. It is that close. It isn't far away; it is right there in your goodwill, offering kindness to others. As it says in the Dhammapada³, a practitioner abiding in goodwill and pleased with the Buddha's teachings attains happiness, the quieting of reactivity, and the state of peace.

There is a wonderful reciprocity here: cultivating peace brings forth goodwill, and cultivating goodwill brings forth peace.

Beyond the Label

There is a fascinating story regarding goodwill, compassion, appreciative joy, and equanimity⁴. A man once encountered the Buddha and was so impressed by the Buddha’s radiant goodwill that he said, "I am a direct witness that the Buddha abides in goodwill."

The Buddha made a very strange statement in response. He said, "I don't really accept or allow you to say that about me. What you can say is that I abide without greed, hatred, and delusion⁵. That is allowable."

The man tried again: "I see direct evidence that you abide in compassion." "No," the Buddha replied [Laughter], "you can say that I abide free of greed, hatred, and delusion." The man continued, "I see you abide in appreciative joy." "No, you can say I abide in the freedom from greed, hatred, and delusion." Finally, the man said, "I witness that you abide in equanimity." The Buddha repeated, "No, you can say that I abide free of greed, hatred, and delusion."

Why would the Buddha, who emphasized loving-kindness so much, not want to be defined by it? Perhaps it is because fixating on goodwill can make it into a "thing." Love is not a thing. If we overemphasize its importance—thinking, "I must develop my kindness"—it can become a narrowing of focus. Instead, what we are looking for is a broadening, a releasing of the mind from what obscures our innate capacity for kindness.

The Analogy of Air

Goodwill is like the air we breathe. We depend on it for our lives, yet we cannot see it or grab it. We have evidence of it—the feeling in our nostrils, our lungs filling—and we notice immediately when it is missing. When the air is fresh and clear, it is refreshing; when it is full of smog, we feel the difference. But we cannot relate to it as an object we manipulate. We must allow its natural functioning to support us.

The Buddha described loving-kindness as something that can exist boundlessly and abundantly—above, below, and all around. Our goodwill can pervade the universe. It has a quality of diffusion and openness. It is something so valuable that you cannot cling to it. If you have greed for love, love is not possible. Goodwill goes hand-in-hand with non-clinging and non-attachment.

Love Without Agenda

Buddhism is as much a religion of love as it is a religion of freedom and awakening. But it involves a love that has no attachment. How often do we experience unattached love—a love where we are confident there is no clinging, no holding on, and no agenda?

Love is one of our most complicated forms of connection. Two people can have very different ideas of what it is. Some love "being loved"—the status, security, or adoration they receive in return. Others confuse sexual desire or power plays with love. But the definition of metta is love that needs nothing in return. It does not depend on the other person; it exists as a state of being.

One of the big surprises for me in practicing insight mindfulness was discovering that when the mind becomes settled, relaxed, and unattached, that state is inseparable from a warm-heartedness and tenderness. It is a resonance of goodness that doesn't require an object. It is like a heater: it warms a cold person who enters the room, but it remains warm even when the room is empty.

The High Bar of Goodwill

Buddhist kindness is meant to be cultivated even toward difficult people and enemies. Some might say it is foolish to offer goodwill to someone who is harming us, but that doesn't mean we cannot defend ourselves. As the story goes from the early days of Western Vipassana⁶, a practitioner in India was once accosted on the street. She asked her teacher, Munindra-ji⁷, what to do. He replied, "With all the loving-kindness you can muster, hit them over the head with your umbrella!" [Laughter]

The point is not whether someone "deserves" goodwill. The point is that an unrestricted heart—one not caught in resentment, envy, or fear—will naturally radiate well-wishing.

The Sixteen Defilements of the Mind

I was thinking this morning about a book I drafted twenty years ago on loving-kindness. I was wondering what the cover image should be. I remembered a photo of my hand with my newborn son’s tiny hand resting inside it. I associate that parental care with an innate, biological nurturing. At the other end of the spectrum, I remember holding my mother's hand as she was dying. That capacity for care is deep within us.

However, our biology also contains the capacity to hate, to be greedy, and to carry resentments for decades. Which part of our biology do we emphasize? In this practice, we realize that greed and hatred are stressful, limiting, and dangerous. As we relax and settle, those layers fall away because we stop fueling them. This allows something deeper—the capacity to nurture and care—to show itself.

The Buddha gave a teaching referring to sixteen mental states that "soil" the mind or heart. They are:

1. Covetousness and unrighteous greed
2. Ill will
3. Anger
4. Revenge
5. Contempt
6. Dominance
7. Envy
8. Avarice
9. Deceit
10. Fraud
11. Obstinacy
12. Presumption
13. Conceit
14. Arrogance
15. Vanity
16. Negligence (pamada⁸)

Negligence is the state that allows the others to thrive. If we live a negligent life, not paying attention or caring, these other states take hold. The Buddha’s advice is: do not live negligently. Live attentively and caringly.

When we pay attention, we see that these states are not inherent to the mind. They are not permanent; they come and go. When you wake up from a nap or return from vacation and find these states absent, you see that they are contingent and constructed. Seeing this inspires the realization: "This is possible. This is freedom."

Buddhist awakening is not some "pie in the sky" cosmic consciousness. It is very practical. If you have clarity that greed or resentment is not permanent, and you experience a heart blissfully free of those things, you have a taste of the Buddha’s awakening.

Radiant Goodwill

When the heart is free of greed, hate, and delusion, it radiates goodwill. The Buddha described this radiance in exalted ways: one abides in goodwill—above, below, around, everywhere—all-pervading, abundant, immeasurable, without hostility or ill will.

The doorway to this "heater in the heart" is the inner work of understanding the motivations and emotions that interfere. Fear is often the greatest obstacle. The orientation of meditation is to create an atmosphere of safety. Even if the world outside is unsafe, can you allow a feeling of safety within yourself? When fear is met with goodwill rather than more fear, it begins to dissolve. This allows the deeper capacity for compassion and appreciative joy to show itself.

Goodwill and generosity are the expressions of a peaceful heart. That is our true wealth.

Introduction and Q&A

Question: I was reading a book by Ajahn Sumedho⁹ where he defines metta as "loving patience." If we call it goodwill, it sets the bar a little lower, which helped me when I was trying to generate kindness for someone I didn't have fond feelings for.

Gil Fronsdal: Yes, sometimes we cannot make a situation better, and we have to live with it. Patience can often involve stress—holding ourselves together—but "loving patience" is different. It's a way of being with the situation without reactivity.

Comment: I was also thinking that the Brahma-viharas are abstract nouns—loving-kindness, compassion, etc. They are not action verbs. It’s easier to be unattached to an abstract noun.

Gil Fronsdal: Wonderful. Thank you.

Question: I find I’m having trouble letting go of contempt and anger toward certain public figures. Do you have suggestions?

Gil Fronsdal: First, if you can, be less interested in those public figures and more interested in your contempt for them. Turn your attention 180 degrees. Start understanding the experience of contempt—how it is a drag for you and how it limits you. Look for the root of what gives birth to it. This is noble and invaluable work. Rather than it being a drag, you can become eager to meet your contempt with the practice.

Question: Have you considered spending a significant portion of your life in a hostile environment—like a "war zone" corporate environment—to practice love in an adverse setting, rather than in this respectful community?

Gil Fronsdal: Buddhist communities are not always angelic! I have been the focus of people’s hatred and ill will in these communities, and I have lived in monasteries where the challenges are very personal and intense. However, I haven't chosen to put myself in the middle of a riot just for the sake of practice. In some ways, my whole practice has been a preparation to be able to do that.

Question: What should I tell my wife when I go home and say I'm practicing "unattached love"? [Laughter] How can love be unattached when love itself seems like an attachment?

Gil Fronsdal: Why tell her? [Laughter] Why not just discover the healthy way of doing it until she notices something is different and nice?

In Western psychology, "attachment" refers to the healthy bond between parent and child. In "Buddhist English," attachment means grasping or clinging. A bond can be intensely strong without being a form of clinging that harms you. I remember when my son was a toddler and I lost track of him for a second in a city. The speed with which I spun around to check the traffic was phenomenal. That was the bond. Was it clinging? I don't think so.

You might tell your partner, "I've decided to figure out a way to love you without harming myself." If she asks, "You were harming yourself?" then you have a conversation! [Laughter]

Question: As a legal practitioner, I was struck by your use of "negligence." In law, negligence is the source of "torts" or legal harms, involving a duty, a breach of that duty, and resulting harm.

Gil Fronsdal: That is very illustrative. Thank you for that.

Question: I find I can practice unattached love with strangers, but as intimacy increases, those sixteen "soiling" things arise. How can I make sure they don't affect the unattached love?

Gil Fronsdal: Complicated issues arise in shared lives, and that makes intimate relationships a wonderful place to practice. Rather than avoiding them to maintain a "universal love" for people who are far away, use the relationship as your monastery. It is an invaluable way to see yourself more deeply. Good luck—it is well worth it.