friendliness as a practice

I’ve been thinking about how hard it can be to offer true, unguarded kindness—to others and to ourselves.

In the Yoga Sutras, Patanjali offers a kind of map for inner steadiness: four attitudes we can carry into the world to help cultivate a calm and clear mind. Maitri—friendliness or loving-kindness—is the first of those four. It’s the first key.

On the surface, maitri seems simple: be friendly, be kind.

But what about when we’re struggling?

When someone else’s joy stirs up our own longing?

When we’re feeling left out, behind, or just raw?

When we’re disconnected from our own sense of ease or enoughness?

That’s when maitri becomes a radical practice.

It’s not just about being “nice.” It’s about softening the edges of our defenses. About showing up with tenderness, even when our first instinct is to pull away or shut down. It’s choosing connection over comparison. Saying yes to joy—even when it’s not ours.

Maitri invites us to hold ourselves gently in moments of doubt, and to greet others with warmth rather than judgment—even (especially) when we’re feeling uncertain or small.

It’s a practice of presence.

Of noticing when the mind wants to close off and choosing, instead, to open. To extend a hand, a breath, a smile. To soften the grip of “not enough” and return to the truth of shared humanity.

In practice, this might look like pausing to genuinely celebrate someone else’s win. It might look like placing a hand on your own heart when a critical thought arises. It might mean letting the rhythm of your breath anchor you when emotions feel jagged and sharp.

There’s a reason this is the first key Patanjali offers—it’s the doorway to the rest.

A steady foundation. A way home.

May we move through this week with a little more softness.

A little more space.

A little more maitri.