Mutual Aid

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

Last night after a wonderful meal and considerable chess, I took a walk with Tripper. We put in a mile plus a tenth. It was after nine. Unusual for me to be up and about that late. I came in, took a brief shower, sat for a few minutes, and went to bed. This morning after zazen I managed to complete a fast walk in the park with Allen and Eve just as the sun was rearing its mighty face over the mountains. It was a mile and three quarters, the walk. We in the desert are not used to the humidity levels we have been encountering. Dry heat is far easier to endure than the damp stickiness of humid air. Within the first two or three tenths of a mile, Allen and I reported breaking a sweat.
My friend Allen is doing wonderfully well. His scar is nearly disappeared. He is walking strong and feeling better each day. Having brain surgery is no small thing. Zen teaches us that we do better when we actualize in the thing itself. Allen has taken the steps to do this. He engaged his life as it is.

Sawaki Roshi says: "Heaven and Earth give themselves. Air, water, plants, animals, and humans give themselves to each other. It is in this giving-themselves-to-each-other that we actually live. Whether you appreciate it or not, it is true." (The Zen Teaching of Homeless Kodo", p.79).

Giving to each other is a moment in itself. It is multilateral, exponential, and exempt from time. Its core ingredient is care.

Here's the rub: we must be open not only to giving, but receiving. In receiving there is giving; in giving, there is receiving. One who closes himself to help does a great disservice to those around him. I am ashamed to say that has been my way most of my life. Deceived by the rhetoric of rugged individualism, I failed to see the delight of mutual aid.

Our practice teaches us to look deeply. As we do, we experience our own interconnected reality, we experience mutual aid.

I am very grateful for this practice and for those around me who have been my teachers.

Be well.