By @Editor
In the final of the Four Sublime States, ဥပက္ခာ (Upekkhā) reveals itself not as indifference, but as the balance of mind that steadies compassion, joy, and kindness – tested most deeply in the struggles of real life.
IN the unfolding of the Four Sublime States (Brahmavihāra), the final and perhaps most elusive quality is ဥပက္ခာ (Upekkhā in Pali), often rendered in English as equanimity. The Oxford Dictionary of Buddhism describes it as “the emotionally detached state of one who witnesses without becoming emotionally involved”. At the same time, Webster’s Dictionary defines equanimity more broadly as “evenness of mind, especially under stress”. In Myanmar usage, U Tun Nyein’s English–Myanmar Dictionary conveys it as စိတ်ချမ်းသာခြင်း၊ စိတ်ညီညာခြင်း (တုန်လှုပ်မှုကင်းခြင်း၊ သွေးအေးခြင်း) – a calm and balanced disposition – while U Hoke Sein’s Pali – English – Myanmar Dictionary explains ဥပက္ခာ as လျစ်လျူရှုခြင်း (detached neutrality), a state of looking on without clinging or aversion.
Etymologically, Upekkhā arises from the Pali roots upa (“upon, over”) and ikkhati (“to see”), literally meaning “to look upon”. It is not indifference, but rather a poised balance of mind that allows one to remain steady amidst gain and loss, praise and blame, joy and sorrow. As the culmination of the Brahmavihāra – following Mettā (loving-kindness), Karuṇā (compassion), and Muditā (sympathetic joy) – Upekkhā completes the circle of sublime states, ensuring that love, compassion, and joy are held in wisdom’s steady embrace.
Yet Upekkhā is not confined to the pages of dictionaries or the halls of monasteries. It breathes within the social fabric of our daily lives. In a world marked by constant flux – political upheavals, economic uncertainties, shifting cultural values – the call for equanimity is not merely philosophical but profoundly practical. We see it in the quiet resilience of communities facing hardship, in the ability of individuals to remain steady amidst conflict, and in the calm discernment required to navigate the noise of public discourse.
In Myanmar society, the word ဥပက္ခာ often surfaces in conversations about fairness, patience, and the capacity to “look on” without bias. It is invoked when neighbours settle disputes without anger, when leaders are urged to act without favouritism, and when families strive to maintain harmony despite differences. In global contexts too, equanimity is increasingly recognized as a vital quality for mental health, conflict resolution, and ethical leadership.
Thus, Upekkhā is not an abstract detachment but a living principle, one that steadies the heart in turbulent times and allows compassion, kindness, and joy to flourish without being overwhelmed. It is here, in the real-world settings of human interaction, that the true depth of this sublime state is revealed.
Still, the meaning of ဥပက္ခာ (Upekkhā) cannot be fully grasped through definitions or social observations alone. Its essence is revealed most clearly in the lived moments where balance is tested, when emotions surge, when attachments pull, when judgments arise. In these spaces, equanimity is not an abstract virtue but a lived discipline, shaping how one responds to both harmony and discord. To understand how Upekkhā breathes within the fabric of ordinary life, I turn to my own encounters, where theory met reality and the practice of equanimity was called upon in unexpected ways.
Conflict: The Accusation
During my time as a leader of our organization, entrusted with the responsibility of assisting seafarers in need, I faced an unexpected storm, not from outside, but from within. A few colleagues, driven by their own motives, accused me of embezzlement. The irony was sharp: every expenditure had been carefully recorded and audited by a respected CPA firm in Bangkok. Yet the slander spread, and the weight of betrayal pressed heavily on me.
Inner Struggle: Anger and Hurt
At first, anger rose in me. How could those I worked alongside, those who knew my dedication, turn against me with such baseless claims? The instinct to defend myself, to fight back, was strong. But as the days passed, I found myself reflecting more deeply. Was my role to cling to position and pride, or to safeguard the mission we had built together for the seafarers and their families?
Resolution: Letting Go
In that reflection, something shifted. I chose not to retaliate. Instead, I forgave them and stepped aside, allowing them to carry the organization forward without me. It was not resignation, nor was it indifference. It was a conscious decision to place the well-being of the organization above my own ego. With or without me, I wished for its success. That was my genuine goodwill.
Reflection: The Spirit of Upekkhā
Looking back, I realize that what I practised, unknowingly, was a form of ဥပက္ခာ (Upekkhā), equanimity. It was not that I felt no pain; I did. It was not that I was indifferent; I cared deeply. But I chose balance over bitterness, forgiveness over retaliation. Even though the organization eventually fractured into three, I hold no regret for my decision. For in that moment, I learned that equanimity is not weakness, but the quiet strength to let go, to remain steady, and to keep goodwill alive even in the face of injustice.
In the end, the Four Sublime States – Mettā (loving-kindness), Karuṇā (compassion), Muditā (sympathetic joy), and Upekkhā (equanimity) – form not four separate virtues, but a single, interwoven fabric of the awakened heart. Loving-kindness opens us to others with warmth; compassion moves us to relieve their suffering; sympathetic joy allows us to celebrate their happiness. Yet without equanimity, these qualities can falter; kindness may become attachment, compassion may sink into sorrow, joy may turn into envy.
It is Upekkhā that steadies them all, like the still axis around which the wheel of the Brahmavihāra turns. My own experience unexpectedly taught me this truth: when wronged, I could have clung to anger or pride, but instead I chose to let go, to forgive, and to wish well. That choice did not erase the sadness, nor prevent the eventual division of the organization, but it revealed to me the quiet strength of balance.
Thus, Upekkhā is not indifference, but the wisdom to remain steady in the face of life’s turbulence, to act with fairness and goodwill even when the heart is tested. It is the final jewel in the crown of the Brahmavihāra, completing the circle of sublime states and reminding us that true strength lies not in control, but in balance.
I say what I see: equanimity is not the absence of struggle, but the quiet strength to let go, to forgive, and to keep walking forward with balance.
