When the Mind Relaxes, the Heart Begins to Speak

Ten Days Of Smiling By: Reji Varghese

I arrived at the Mahabodhi Centre on the evening of January 10, 2026 and the wooded campus seemed to receive me, as if it had been waiting all along. I handed over my phone, settled into a clean but spartan room, went down to the dining area where we had a simple, light meal and at six o’clock the retreat began. We would be observing 'noble silence' for the next ten days, which meant no reading, no writing, no talking or even eye contact with anyone else on the retreat.

One of the first instructions we received felt almost disarmingly simple. Smile throughout the ten days. And if you forget, relax and smile again. Bhante Dhammagavesi, the teacher for the course, offered it with a warmth that lingered. “Smile from the lips, smile from the eyes, smile from the mind, smile from the heart.” The smiling felt pleasant enough, though a part of me wondered how this belonged to meditation at all.

I had been practicing meditation for over a decade. In that world, effort was the unspoken currency. Sit longer. Try harder. Do more retreats, then longer ones. When results were elusive, the answer was usually more striving. Reading about other traditions or listening to other teachers was quietly discouraged. The Dhamma, which the Buddha had offered as a universal remedy for suffering, sometimes felt as if it was protected by a non disclosure agreement.

The difference in approach became clear in the very first session. The teacher spoke using the Buddha’s own instructions on how to receive a teaching. Do not accept something simply because it is spoken by a teacher, by the Buddha, by elders, or by scripture. Try it for yourself. See what it does. Only then allow it to take root. The words felt less like a command and more like an invitation.

Metta Has Its Own Intelligence

The practice itself was straightforward. Smile, and allow a feeling of happiness to arise. When happiness appears, remain aware of it and share it outward with all beings. Yet old habits die slowly. Years of disciplined effort made it difficult to rest in such simplicity. During the daily interviews, the teacher repeated the same gentle guidance. Do nothing. Metta has its own intelligence, it knows when to grow and when to fade. Stay aware, and share whatever is there with the wish that all beings be happy.

This ran counter to everything I had trained myself to do. My earlier practice was built around strong concentration and a tight grip on the meditation object. Letting go felt unfamiliar. Doing nothing turned out to be far more demanding than effort ever was.

Doing nothing, as I slowly discovered, has little to do with dullness or passivity. It is not drifting, spacing out, or collapsing into comfort. It asks for alertness. It asks for presence. Non-doing simply notices the urge to move, to react, to control. It stays with the moment where choice has not yet hardened into action.

After three days of smiling, relaxing and bringing back the attention to that feeling of happiness, something softened. I let go. And to my surprise, the happiness remained. When thoughts arose and restlessness was beginning to creep in, I smiled inwardly and said, “That’s okay.” Time loosened its grip. During the afternoon session on day four I only noticed how long I had been sitting when the gong sounded for the tea break. Nearly three hours had passed, without strain, without effort, without the familiar sense of pushing. There was a quiet bliss in relaxing and letting go.

TWIM - Metta Vipassana

Tranquil Wisdom Insight Meditation or Metta Vipassana as its known in Asia was put together as a meditation technique by Bhante Vimalaramsi after decades spent studying the suttas. Bhante's spiritual journey began in 1977 when he studied meditation under the renowned meditation teacher Anagarika Munindra. Munindraji, was a seminal figure in modern Buddhist teaching and many of his students like Joseph Goldstein, Sharon Salzberg, Dipa Ma, Daniel Goleman, and Jack Kornfield, have gone on to become influential meditation teachers themselves.

In 1986, Bhante Vimalaramsi ordained as a monk and, two years later, travelled to Burma to undertake intensive practice at the Mahasi Yeiktha Meditation Center in Rangoon. After nearly two decades of dedicated Vipassana practice, he began to sense that something essential was amiss. A senior monk from Sri Lanka advised Bhante to look for answers in the early suttas, and not commentaries such as the Visuddhimagga, on which many Burmese Vipassana traditions are based.

The Relax Step

Central to Bhante Vimalaramsi's approach is the "relax step," an instruction to consciously release tension in the body and mind whenever tightness or craving is noticed, thereby tranquilizing bodily and mental formations.

He bases this step on the Satipaṭṭhāna Sutta (MN 10) and the Ānāpānasati Sutta (MN 118), where the Buddha advises "tranquilizing the bodily formation", "passambhayaṃ kāyasaṅkhāraṃ assasissāmi", to cultivate calm and prevent the mind from wandering.

By intentionally relaxing, practitioners dissolve subtle attachments that arise, allowing the mind to remain open and balanced. Bhante realised that this step was essential for entering and sustaining the jhānas, as it counters the "heaviness" of effortful striving that very often leads to a subtle build up of stress and tension. In an age addicted to effort, Metta gently suggests another way.

Uncovering The Wisdom That Was Always There

What struck me most was how good this practice felt. Attention was not turned inward in isolation but gently radiated outward, again and again, towards all beings. The mind was encouraged to relax its grip, to notice when it tightened, and to soften once more. Smiling, which had initially seemed almost incidental, revealed itself as a practical expression of this softening, a way to interrupt habitual tension before it could take root.

The practice also began to feel less inwardly preoccupied. Earlier, meditation had revolved around 'my' peace, 'my' concentration, 'my' insight. Now it was simply a matter of sharing whatever was present. In some sessions all I had was a small smile, but even that could be offered to all beings.

There was something deeply nourishing in this orientation. Wishing others well, offering what was already here, seemed to open a door that striving never quite reached. The transformation was subtle and unmistakable. Simple. Quiet. Almost obvious in hindsight.

In time, the practice revealed a simpler truth - wisdom does not arise from strain, but from gentleness. What had been missing was the intelligence of the heart. When attention settles into kindness and ease, wisdom arises naturally, not as something acquired, but as something that was always there, waiting to be uncovered.

About the Author: Reji Varghese is the President of Forms and Gears, a 54 year old engineering company in India. He has been a Vipassana meditator in the tradition of Sayagyi U Ba Khin for over 10 years and is a guest writer for a number of national newspapers and magazines in India.