TLDR: In this conversation, Krishna Das and Nina Rao discuss how spiritual practice can trap us in self-grasping—the subtle program of constantly organizing life around making the self feel good—and how chanting, dedicated practice, and intentional loving-kindness prayers offer a way to short-circuit that ego-centered approach. By learning to wish well-being for all beings (bodhicitta), rather than only for ourselves, we recognize the fundamental oneness underlying existence and become instruments for alleviating suffering in the world.
What Is Self-Grasping and How Does Spiritual Practice Trap Us In It?
Krishna Das begins with a striking observation: many people approach spiritual practice thinking they are doing it primarily for themselves. They want to alleviate their own suffering, find peace of mind, and develop an open heart. This seems reasonable on the surface, but Krishna Das points out a subtle trap. When we organize our practice around the goal of making ourselves feel better, we are reinforcing what he calls "self-grasping"—a term he attributes to Rinpoche.
Self-grasping is the underlying program that runs beneath nearly all human activity. It is the pervasive tendency to organize our entire lives around the question: How can I make me feel good and avoid feeling bad? Krishna Das explains that we are not born with this orientation by accident. Our parents, themselves unaware of alternatives, taught us to prioritize our own comfort and preferences. This becomes the default operating system, so deeply embedded that most people never question it.
The problem deepens when we realize that self-grasping feeds itself. The more we organize life around protecting and pleasing the self, the more we engage in constant comparison and evaluation. We judge ourselves against others—I'm better, I'm worse, they have more, I have less. This comparative mind generates suffering and egoistic clinging that "just gets worse and worse and goes on and on." Even spiritual practice, if aimed only at personal peace, can become another weapon in the self-grasping arsenal.
How Does Dedicating Merit to All Beings Interrupt the Self-Centered Loop?
The key intervention Krishna Das offers is the practice of dedicating and offering the merit of our practice to all beings. This is not merely a nice gesture or a spiritual accessory added after the "real work" is done. Instead, it directly short-circuits the self-centered version of life that "almost everybody is involved with all the time."
The logic is both simple and profound. When we finish our chanting, prayers, or any spiritual practice, instead of keeping the fruits for ourselves, we consciously offer them outward. This gesture is not abstract—it is a deliberate rewiring of the heart-mind. By consistently directing our gratitude, energy, and compassion toward others, we weaken the grip of self-grasping and begin to cultivate what the Buddhist traditions call bodhicitta: the intention and aspiration that all beings be free from suffering and experience well-being.
Yet Krishna Das also acknowledges a practical truth: we do start from a self-centered place. Even traditional prayers like the Hanuman Chalisa or prayers to the goddess begin with us asking for something for ourselves. This is not a failure; it is the starting point. The fact that we are even asking—that we understand something can be done about our state of mind—is already "quite an extraordinary thing," since most people suffer with "no letup or no reason." What matters is that we don't stay stuck there. We use our own self-interest as a doorway into compassion for others.
What Is the Connection Between Personal Healing and Recognizing Oneness?
Nina Rao introduces a key insight: personal egoistic suffering cannot be fully relieved until we recognize a deeper truth. As Krishna Das agrees, "there's only one of us." This is not a poetic metaphor but the central teaching of all the great wisdom traditions. They may describe it in different language and offer different practices to recognize it, but they converge on this insight: we are all cells of one being.
This perspective matters not because it is comforting in a sentimental way, but because it reveals the futility of self-grasping. If there is truly only one of us, then harming or neglecting another being is ultimately a harm to ourselves, and uplifting another is uplifting ourselves. Krishna Das notes that even if we do not yet know how to reach this direct experience of oneness, we can hold the perspective intellectually and let it inform our practice.
The path to embodying this recognition is both intimate and practical. By learning to take care of our own hearts—to understand our own pain, to soften our defenses—we become more sensitive to what others are going through. This tenderness becomes the bridge between the personal and the universal. When we chant mantras like Sita Ram or Om Namah Shivaya, these are not just tools for accessing altered states; they are technologies for opening the heart into "that space of connectedness," allowing us to enter into the lived experience of oneness.
How Does Metta (Loving-Kindness) Practice Differ From Chanting?
Nina Rao makes a distinction between two approaches to cultivating compassion: the more spontaneous opening of the heart through chanting and mantra, and the more intentional, verbally-structured practice of metta (loving-kindness meditation). She mentions that Krishna Das encouraged her to do a metta loving-kindness retreat, and that she has now incorporated this intentional form into the songs she and Krishna Das recorded together, including "Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu" for her album "Bhumi Devi."
In metta practice, we use phrases to directly wish well-being for specific beings and categories of beings. This is different from the flow of chanting, where the mantra itself carries the blessing. As Nina notes, this intentionality matters. Krishna Das adds that loving-kindness was never taught to him as an adult, and he did not fully understand it until later. The reason it feels unfamiliar is that "it's not natural in this world for us to wish other people well." We are raised in a competitive framework where we believe "happiness was in a limited quantity, and if somebody else has it, we think there's less for us." But this belief is backward. The truth is the opposite: compassion and spiritual attainment spread like a disease—one catches them from those who have them, and they ultimately cure us of our unhappiness.
How Do Kirtans Themselves Become Acts of Collective Merit-Offering?
Krishna Das has begun closing his kirtans with the chant "Lokah Samastah Sukhino Bhavantu" (May all beings everywhere be happy and free), using it as a formal recognition that we are all in this together. This simple act—ending a communal singing session with an explicit offering for all beings—transforms the whole gathering. It reframes the kirtan from something people do together in a room into a purposeful gesture toward the whole world.
Krishna Das explains the stakes: "We're all in this little blue speck in the cosmos. And there's nowhere we can go. So, we better clean up our rooms and get it together." The implication is clear. The chaos and violence outside in the world are real and pressing, but we cannot let them destroy our hearts. If they do, we become useless. Instead, we must tend to our inner worlds, develop our capacity for compassion, and offer that capacity in ever-widening circles. This is not escapism; it is radical pragmatism. By taking care of our own hearts and working to open them, we become agents of healing in the world.
The alleviation of suffering in the world is "a long-term project. Many lifetimes." Yet the people engaged in it—those attracted to chanting, to dharma practice, to the cultivation of compassion—have been "doing this for a long time." The very fact that we are interested now suggests we have been preparing across many lifetimes for this work.
Where to Go From Here
If you recognize self-grasping in your own practice, the intervention is straightforward: dedicate the merit. Whether you chant, meditate, pray, or study, consciously offer the fruits to all beings. Begin with loving-kindness phrases if that resonates with you: may I be happy; may my family be happy; may my teachers, my adversaries, all beings everywhere be happy and free. Notice how the heart shifts when you make this intentional turn outward. Over time, the boundary between self and other softens. The competitive scarcity mindset weakens. You may begin to taste, even briefly, the perspective Krishna Das describes—the recognition that there is only one of us. This recognition is not something to achieve in the future; it is already here, waiting to be noticed. Every chant, every compassionate thought, every offering is a step toward the freedom and well-being of all.
