Someone asked the teacher about the blessing of "a mind without sorrow."

The word "sorrow" comes from the Pali "soka," meaning "dried up." A sorrowful mind is a mind that has become parched — withered, smoldering, listless, unwilling to engage with anything or get anything done.

Sorrow arises from attachment. Someone who has fully realized Nibbana has cut attachment completely, so their mind no longer sorrows. For ordinary people who haven't cut attachment yet, regularly practicing meditation and reflecting on death — remembering that we too must die — loosens the grip of attachment and eases sorrow.

Sorrow also arises from being separated from what we love, whether a person, an animal, or a possession — the deeper the attachment, the deeper the longing when separation comes. The process starts with simple liking, followed by craving that decides whether to hold on or not; once we decide to love, a new state of becoming is instantly created, and when separation follows, suffering follows with it.

The Buddha taught that monks should clearly observe body, feeling, mind, and mental objects in order to eliminate delight and grief — the pull toward pleasure and toward displeasure — and instead keep the mind in balance, neither too pleased nor too upset. This balance is called equanimity, the tenth and final perfection, which depends on all the other perfections as its foundation.

Living with honesty, integrity, and sincerity is an essential foundation, because the wholesome system carries a mental factor of even-mindedness that keeps the mind balanced, not swinging too far into joy or grief — and it also softens the blow when old karma we created by breaking someone else's heart eventually ripens back on us.