How to Practice Mindfulness and Lovingkindness to Transform Relationships

Estimated reading time: 12 minutes

Relationships are messy…which is why one meditation teacher dives into the mess and introduces practices for a healthier foundation

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Psychologists often say adults with troubled childhoods will likely have a deep need to be close to their partners, but with that comes an even deeper fear of being so connected. It means some of us will yearn for intimacy, but as soon as we experience it, we’ll find a way to get out of it.

This was true for me for a long time. I met and got involved with men who were decent, kind, and loving and really wanted me—only to find a reason to reject them and end the relationship. I preferred dating and even getting seriously involved with men who were deeply ambivalent about me, but I never understood why. I only knew that their ambivalence meant we would never get too close, so I never had to run away.

When I was in my thirties, I began a relationship with Mateo, a talented journalist who, like me, had never been married, loved cats and books, and lived just twenty blocks uptown from my apartment. He was considerate, polite, funny, and fair. When we ate meals together, we shared the cooking and cleanup duties, and we each paid our own way when we went out. We dated for nearly two years, and during that time, I thought we had a perfect relationship because we rarely disagreed on anything and only had one argument.

Then he had to travel for a month for work. During that time, I hardly thought about him and he hardly thought about me. When he returned, our relationship felt like a deflated balloon and we both agreed it would be best to break up. I was puzzled that it ended because we didn’t have any problems that I could see—we were companionable, shared similar values, found each other attractive and interesting. But I’d mistaken self-sufficiency for healthy independence and our shared interests for intimacy. The truth was that both of us were afraid to reveal our difficulties, confusion, or less-than-pleasant qualities to each other and were determined not to rely on or truly trust the other. I thought that by avoiding conflict, ignoring resentment, and keeping my emotions to myself, I could avoid a “messy” partnership. Instead, I was unable to truly connect—because happy and lasting relationships are complicated.

By the time I was forty, I’d only had a few relationships that lasted more than two years, and by this time, I’d embarked on an entirely new career. I was studying Buddhism and training to become a mindfulness teacher. I was beginning to write about my life and share my work on the internet. And I was becoming even more ambivalent about finding a partner.

Where I had felt certain and at times desperate for a long-term, monogamous relationship, I now wondered if that was what I really wanted.

But I could tell that my single life was too easy. There was no one to mirror me, challenge me, or reflect my blind spots. I realized that I needed to make a change if I wanted to grow: find a committed boyfriend and get married, or become a Buddhist nun—both ways would increase my self-knowledge, one through relationship with another, the other through a relationship with myself and a community.

I was studying at a Tibetan monastery in upstate New York and considering participating in their three-year meditation retreat when I met Mike. He’d been divorced for a few years and was also a meditator studying Zen Buddhism. He was different from most of the men I had dated: he was direct about his intention to be in a committed relationship, rather than just hanging out or being friends with benefits like so many of the other men I met on dating apps. When he explained what he was looking for, it made me realize that for a long time I’d been waiting to meet someone with whom I could fall in love. I thought it would come from them—when the right person came along, then I would want to marry, commit, love them. But Mike showed me that was a delusion.

It had to come from me—I needed to begin with an intention to love, commit, and to become intimate. Then I could find a person who shared that intention and create a relationship together. We married a few years later. I’d like to say it was happily ever after, but sometimes it’s not. In fact, in the aftermath of an early argument, Mike gently said to me, “Kim, we’ll be as happy as we want to be.” And he was right.

Because change is always possible, you can be as happy as you want to be too—but it takes time, insight, and energy. Maybe you’re like me and you don’t know how to be a good partner because no one has ever showed you how to do it. There’s hope! I’m generally considerate and kind, but sometimes dismissive and defensive, and I’ve learned to soften that and you can too.

Although I didn’t really think it was possible, I’ve created a happy relationship using many tools and modalities, but it’s been mindfulness and lovingkindness which has helped me the most.

These practices enable me to truly listen to my partner, validate his experience, and empathize with his feelings, regardless of who is right or wrong. Our lives together and separately aren’t perfect: my best friend died unexpectedly a few years ago, Mike’s elderly mom needs a lot of care from him, and my income dwindled during the pandemic. All of these things have caused stress and struggle for our partnership, but we’ve learned that our happiness isn’t based on circumstances outside ourselves. Rather, it’s based on our intention to be truly loving, patient, and kind—through thick and thin, with each inhale and exhale.

I use the term partner, spouse, husband, and wife interchangeably in an excerpt from my book, Happy Relationships: 25 Buddhist Practices to Transform Your Connections with Your Partner, Family, and Friends, which follows below. I wrote this for anyone in a committed partnership with another person, whether you’re married or not, and whatever your identity—straight, gay, lesbian, transgender, CIS. If you’re sharing your life with someone, you can learn to bring greater contentment to your relationship, no matter how hard it might seem. You can create strong bonds of patience and empathy with yourself and your partner to sustain a lasting and loving relationship. I know you can do this because I’ve done it, and I’ve taught many others to do it too, using the teachings and exercises in this section.

Drawn from the Buddhist tradition, conventional Western therapeutic techniques, and from my own experience, these practices are powerful tools that you can learn and apply to transform and heal old struggles, create new habits, and open your heart to yourself and your partner.

While reading this excerpt, make an intention to benefit and not harm yourself, your partner, or your relationship with your thoughts, words, or actions. You can even put your hand on your heart and say, “I vow to communicate clearly and act with kindness.” You’ll be surprised how powerful it can be to articulate your deepest and best motivation.

There are probably many things about your partner that you find annoying and frustrating, and you might believe they have to change for you to be happy.

Meditation practice will show you that taking care of your feelings with kindness, communicating honestly, and approaching your partner with compassion even when they are angry, disagreeable, or unlikeable can transform a relationship whether they change or not.

That doesn’t mean you’ll suddenly like it when they forget what time the kids’ soccer practice starts although you’ve told them countless times, or become indifferent to their refusal to unload the dishwasher. Rather, it means you will be able to pause in these moments, feel your feelings, and choose how you want to respond. You’ll learn that partnerships have moments of misunderstanding, miscommunication, and rupture—and you can meet them all with kindness, patience, and compassion for you both.

When my husband realized our relationship would come up in this book, he cautioned me not to portray the two of us as some sort of New Age, filtered, perfect couple. He asked me to be sure to let you know that even though our marriage is happy, loving, and strong, we still make mistakes, get confused, and say or do the wrong thing at times—and that’s okay. In fact, weeks or even months can go by without a real rupture—a fight or hurt feelings or an insensitive remark—but we always remember that another one will happen, simply because we’re human.

The next time you have difficulties with your partner, instead of feeling like you’ve failed or someone is in the wrong, remember that you can learn to be patient and trust in yourself and each other and use your wise actions and tools of mindfulness and lovingkindness to help you resolve your upset, calm your distress, and repair your relationship, time and time again.

Practice One: Let Yourself Love

Like too many of us, I believed for a long time that love was something someone else needed to give me, and when they did, I would feel at ease, relaxed, and happy about myself. I assumed that I would find it within romantic relationships, so I searched for a boyfriend or partner. But even when I was in relationship with kind, compassionate people, I still didn’t feel very good, and I wondered why I wasn’t getting the love I needed.

It wasn’t until after I started studying Buddhism that I began to believe that love doesn’t come from other people at all. I finally understood that it’s a quality that I already possess, and you do too. After I committed to a regular mindfulness and lovingkindness practice, I began to experience a pervasive sense of “okayness”—a feeling of well-being no matter what was happening good or bad in my life. This feeling isn’t reliant on someone else or the result of success, money, or praise. I’m confident you can discover this inner resource too, and with practice you’ll realize that you have all the love you need. Though at times it might be obscured by conditioning and old habits, remember that you can always rely on it and access it whenever you get still and quiet.

If you’re feeling lonely or unwanted right now, or waiting for someone else to give you the love you believe is missing from your life, please try the following meditation. Practice it daily for at least six weeks and observe how it unfolds in your mind and your heart.

1. Find a quiet and comfortable place where you can relax for at least fifteen minutes. You can sit in your favorite chair, lie down on the couch with a blanket, or rest on your porch with your dog. Put all of your devices out of reach.
2. First, don’t do anything at all. Just let yourself get still. Then take a few deep exhales and full inhales. Do this for at least five minutes.
3. Put your hand on your chest, and say silently, May I be open to all the love in my heart. Just keep repeating this phrase to yourself. You don’t have to feel warm and fuzzy or anything at all. But when you get distracted, don’t let yourself get caught in stories or arguments with yourself. Just gently notice and come back and begin saying the phrase again.
4. After five or ten minutes (or longer), think of a dear friend who is self-critical. Imagine they are sitting here with you. Then silently say to them, May you be open to all the love in your heart.
5. Next, connect with both yourself and your friend’s presence. Keep your hand on your chest and say to both of you, May we be open to all the love in our hearts.
6. Finally, let yourself rest quietly here for at least one minute, without saying the phrases. Then slowly and mindfully choose to open your eyes, stretch or move, and thank yourself for your beautiful heart.

[Excerpt adapted from Happy Relationships: 25 Buddhist Practices to Transform Your Connections with Your Partner, Family, and Friends. Copyright © 2025 by Kimberly Brown. Reprinted courtesy of Prometheus Books. All rights reserved.]

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You may also enjoy reading Do You Have the Courage to Choose Kindness? by Donna Cameron.