One of the gravest mistakes I have found myself making is falling lazily into the belief that I am a good and well-meaning person. I try to be, of course. But one of the great gifts in my life over the last few years has been a recognition of the central importance of practice in becoming kinder and happier. It is not enough to recognize right and wrong or even to desire to do well for others – or even to do so regularly. Our default homeostatic existence is often at war with what we would do and be for ourselves and others if only we could see this life for what it is. For me, becoming truly more honest, generous, and compassionate requires a continual recognition that the mental models that are essential to making sense of my world and of getting on in conventional life can also be prisons, that actively working on my brain is necessary to grasp this fact at the level required to make a difference.

Your path and practice may differ from mine. Perhaps you have not been as often deluded or as often gripped by aversion or miswanting as I have been. But I was struck by the raw power of practice in my own life this morning while watching a video accompanying new music by Max Richter. I hesitate to refer people to books or talks that have been helpful to me in my practice, because the efficacy and depth of these things is so much a function of the intention of the listener. What may seem corny or cliche to the skeptical can work fundamental change in one who encounters it in the right way, at the right time.

So, with that proviso, try watching this video and saying aloud to each face that appears, without artifice or skepticism but with full belief – "My brother. My mother. My sister. My child." – as the person in front of you would be if you allowed it be so. I used to think making the world a more humane and peaceful place could not depend on individual moral transformation, as expecting that on a large enough scale was naive. Now, I believe, as strongly as I have ever believed in anything, that it is naive to think we can survive and thrive without it.