Dispatch #6: Abandoned Shoes Warm My Heart
And My Feet Too!
Hello Spark Zen readers! Please forgive the delay in dispatching another dispatch. Monastic life amid the creek, mountains, and trees has been very busy of late. During this practice period, we’re studying the Shōbōgenzo-Zuimonki, which are brief talks by Eihei Dōgen Zenji that were recorded by his student Koun Ejō from 1235 to 1237.
Shōbōgenzo means “the True Dharma Eye.” And zuimonki means “easy for the ears to understand,” or “simplified.” I hope the words below illuminate what’s beyond words.
Warm bows from the cold mountains, Rev. Shōren
Dōgen instructed students of the Way,
Do not worry about food and clothing. Just maintain the Buddha's precepts and do not engage in worldly affairs. The Buddha said to use abandoned rags for clothing and beg for food. In what age will these two things ever be exhausted? Do not forget the swiftness of impermanence nor be disturbed vainly by worldly affairs. As long as your dew-like human life lasts, think exclusively of the Buddha way, and do not be concerned with other things. —Shōbōgenzo-Zuimonki as translated by Shōhaku Okumura Roshi
It’s been 786 years since Dōgen encouraged the monks listening in the sōdō (“monks’ hall”) at Kōshōji to practice the Way by begging for food, wearing abandoned rags, and disengaging from worldly affairs.
I have never begged for food, however, one time I did observe a few intrepid Zen monks dumpster dive behind a Trader Joe’s. I was amazed at all the edible food that they retrieved. I even ate some of it while images of me hunched over and vomitin flashed through my head as I chewed.
An estimated 1.3 billion tons of food that’s produced for us humans to eat is wasted globally each year. I can’t fathom this ginormous number so here’s a metaphor to assist with imagining this shocking statistic:
If “Food Waste” were a country it would be the world’s 3rd largest emitter of carbon dioxide after China and the US. —The Food and Agriculture Organization of the United Nations
With some keen and passionate human innovation, this annual “food waste” could feed the millions of people who go hungry each day. My father knew hunger as a child growing up during the Great Depression. He used to regale us kids with stories of his mother making pebble soup. My young self did not believe him, of course. Or maybe I did and was fearful of going hungry as well.
Even though my parents instilled in us the ethic of eating all the food on our plates, I confess that I have let food—cooked and uncooked—go to waste. At Tassajara, I rarely take more food than I can eat because we mostly eat in the meditation hall in three, small nesting bowls, and if you take too much food, there’s no discreet way to remove it from the meditation hall. It feels more aligned with my values and heart to not over indulge in food, which is a habit I learned as a child.
“Live simply, so others may simply live.” — Attributed (correctly or incorrectly) to Mohandas [the Great Souled One] Ghandi
Living at a Zen monastery makes it much easier to live simply and in doing so, to feel grateful for the abundance of food, potable water, shelter, and fresh air. The basics we humans need to survive. Oh, and of course, living in a community of compassionate people who are dedicated to seeing through the veil of conceptualization and awakening True Mind.
Before moving to Tassajara the first time in June 2008, I rarely ventured into a thrift store to shop for previously owned clothing or household goods. If I did find myself meandering up and down the aisles of a Good Will, it was because I was impatiently waiting for my mother to finish shopping! Before sickness and old age benched her, my mother was a world class thrifter!
My mental paradigm shifted when I became a resident at Tassajara. During my first summer, and many subsequent ones, I found myself clad in clothes that had been either intentionally or inadvertently left behind. These items would first be brought to our lost-and-found area near the main office. An announcement would be made at work circle—where we gather each morning and afternoon as a community to find out who’s departing or arriving, receive work assignments, hear updates about the schedule and ceremonies, and learn important news of the “outside” world.
After some indeterminate time, these discarded and/or forgotten items would be moved to our very own “good will”—located in a long, dimly lit and dusty hallway in student housing, which we call “the lower barn.” It’s a two story building that used to house horses back in the day when stagecoaches brought guests over the 14-mile mountain road and into the valley to enjoy the hot springs. During the summer guest season, students also reside in the “upper barn” in small rooms with a twin bed, dresser, table, lamp, and nightstand. The rooms are super cozy!
I’ve found many good finds in our Tassajara good will, among my favorites are:
a lavender, zip-neck wool Patagonia pull-over;
red Keen Newport H2 sandals;
a pair of black JAG jeans;
a black LL Bean zip-neck pull-over;
black Dansko mules;
a sage green North Face 3/4 jacket;
a thick black hoodie with the Hindu God Nandi (a bull) silk-screened on it;
a thick burgundy hoodie with a gazillion pockets;
fleece and wool hats;
Prana hiking pants;
LL Bean crew and v-neck sweaters;
a black Land’s End jacket;
and sundry long- and short-sleeve shirts.
There’s dozen of other items as well that I can’t recall. I still have the Nandi hoodie, in fact, I’m wearing it now as a write this post while sitting on my bed. There’s no chairs in my one-room cabin!
However, my all-time favorite finds have been a series of slip-on Merrell shoes. They’re called Encore Ice 4, and I always find them in my size, 8.5. Each time I’ve left the monastery and returned, there’s been a black pair of them, waiting patiently on the floor of good-will for me to claim them. And claim them I did.
So when I returned this time, I rushed—mindfully, of course—down to the good-will and lo and behold! there was a pair of beige Encore Ice 4 in size 8. A wee bit too small, but when I took out the insole, they fit me just fine.
My body is clothed and my heart comforted by the generosity of “strangers.” Thank you!
