Keeping an Open Heart in a Time of Pain: A Buddhist-Infused Reflection

It’s February, the month of Valentine’s Day, which I use as an excuse every year to write about the beauty of keeping an open heart and the strength required to do so. This year, though, keeping an open heart might seem like an unreasonable ask. But trust me, I recognize that we’re living in a time when the rawness of injustice presses against our collective pulse. I feel it and experience it all around me. 

Of course, this isn’t abstract, nor do I feel it’s hyperbole. During our first month of 2026, multiple people have died in encounters with federal immigration enforcement, two citizens were executed in Minneapolis, and others have died in ICE custody and during federal actions. These atrocities have been captured on video taken by our fellow citizens, igniting protests, vigils, and national debate about the use of force, transparency, and the overall lack of a moral compass in our civic life.

If you’re like me, reading these headlines is both infuriating and bewildering; I feel as if I’m watching any inkling of compassion for our fellow human beings get swept away by a wind of despair and exhaustion. And let me tell you, it’s got me downright drained. So here I am, sitting at my computer, attempting to write a blog about keeping an open heart. I know I need to write this. I also know that the act of writing it will probably help me make sense of things, and maybe help a few of you, too. Because the challenge for me right now is pretty clear, even if the answers are not. The challenge is not to harden, not to pull back, and not to hide behind spiritual bypassing. The real question is, how do we stay open to what is happening and respond from a place of genuine compassion?

The Spiritual Call to Wake Up

Since the biggest inspiration I’ve been finding in my newsfeed is the monks walking for peace across the country, let’s start with the Buddha. He didn’t teach that life would be easy. He taught that there is dukkha — suffering, pain, frustration, loss — and that the path of practice is an invitation to face reality as it is, without contraction. He taught us to see the suffering, in ourselves and in others, and to respond with awareness rather than aversion.

Right now, one of the most painful aspects of our national life is the seeming normalization of violence by those entrusted with power. The deaths tied to immigration enforcement,  and the way certain federal officials have come up with narratives that precede clear facts, have left many feeling betrayed, angry, confused, and grieving.

Our natural instinct is to close our hearts and protect what’s dear; to shut out the pain so we can keep functioning. But if our spiritual work is about embodying the teachings, then closing the heart is precisely what we’re being asked not to do.

What an Open Heart Looks Like Now

So what does it actually mean to keep an open heart in this moment? Let’s look at a few examples:

1. Seeing the pain honestly. An open heart doesn’t pretend everything is fine, nor does it fall into despair. It acknowledges the truth before it while keeping clear-eyed and breathing steadily. In Buddhist terms, this is sammā-sati — right mindfulness.
   
   
2. Naming injustice without hatred. Anger can be healthy and important to recognize, but it becomes destructive when it’s directed outward and AT others. When it is allowed and processed, the energy of anger is a tool for burning up ignorance and indifference. To be compassionate is not to be passive; it is to see suffering and act to reduce it.
   
   
3. Tending to our inner world so we don’t lose our capacity for connection. When violence overwhelms, compassion becomes minimized if we scuttle into numbness or righteous fury. Staying grounded in mindfulness and self-reflection frees us to respond rather than react.
   
   
4. Embodying metta, loving-kindness, even (especially?) toward those whose actions we find deeply unjust or harmful. This doesn’t mean excusing behavior or ignoring accountability; it means understanding that harmful acts stem from ignorance, fear, and trauma, and that true change must address these roots. (Full disclosure: this one can take a minute for me!)
   
   

Walking with the Monks — Literally and Spiritually

Now, let’s get back to these monks I’m so enamored with! In case you haven’t heard, right now, a group of Buddhist monks is on a Walk for Peace. They are on a roughly 2,300-mile pilgrimage from Fort Worth, Texas, to Washington, D.C., grounded in compassion, nonviolence, and loving kindness. They are on this walk to demonstrate that peace is not a passive state but an ongoing practice.

And we can see that their physical journey can mirror our inner one: step by step, moment by moment, choosing peace over ease, persistence over cynicism. 

Across North Carolina, love has been showered upon these monks by people who have gathered along their path, clearly touched by their gentle presence. Flowers, bracelets and blessings are being given by the monks to those gathered to support this beautiful act, demonstrating our hunger for meaning, connection, and peace.

During this long journey, they’ve encountered extreme cold and now snow, wearing their robes, carrying just a few belongings and a message of peace and love. This is the heart we’re being invited to embody: peace in motion.

How We Can Respond

As Yogis, Buddhists,  or simply as human beings who care, here are some potential ways to keep our hearts open right now:

• Feel what’s here, without shrinking away. Allow the grief, the outrage, the heartbreak to move through you rather than get trapped in you. This may take only a few minutes, but for many of us, it’s a process in which we keep returning to with a bit of humility and a lot of patience.
  
  
• Practice compassion toward your own suffering first. It’s easier to reach outward, and infinitely more beneficial, when you’re not clutching internal pain.
  
  
• Let presence guide you. Even a few moments of conscious breathing can steady your nervous system and keep you available to respond with clarity rather than reactivity.
  
  
• Act from compassion. This can mean supporting community vigils, educating yourself about our justice systems, or tending to someone grieving. Take embodied actions fueled by an open, compassionate heart rather than anger.
  
  
• Stay in the community. A shared path of wisdom and support makes the burden lighter and the heart brave. This is not a time to go at it alone. 

The Courage to Care

Keeping an open heart isn’t weak; it’s actually one of the bravest things a person can do. When the news is heavy, and the wheels of justice seem stalled, an open heart becomes a radical act: a refusal to abandon hope, a refusal to numb out, and a refusal to let pain stunt our capacity to love.

In yoga, we say “heart open but grounded.” In Buddhism, the teaching is clear: compassion must be paired with discernment and understanding, not naïve idealism.

So my invitation is to let this moment be a call to deepen your practice, not to shrink away from it. Open your heart wider, especially when you feel it closing. Let your anguish inform how you care, let your outrage be met with real action, and let your breath be an opportunity to send loving kindness toward all beings, especially yourself.

Because peace is more than a political stance, it’s an actionable practice. And right now, the world needs practitioners.

Jai Bhagwan, 

Kristine