Altruism

“An attitude or way of behaving marked by unselfish concern for the welfare of others”

T.S. was at a London Monarch baseball game in Ontario with his 8-year-old son.  A foul ball was hit into the crowd.  It bounced and landed right in T.S.’s hands.  His son was thrilled when T.S. handed him the ball, but they heard a little girl crying, and realized that the ball had bounced off her foot.  The son asked his father to give the ball to the girl.  “I gave him a hug and told him that was a really nice thing to do.”

And more:

1.  A man walks around downtown London with a bunch of quarters in his pocket.  He plugs parking meters that are about to expire.

2.  A young girl tells her parents that she dropped a ceramic mug on the floor, to protect the person really responsible – her little brother.

3.  A 9-year-old boy looking for help after his mother crashed their van in the southern Arizona desert was rescued by a man entering the U.S. illegally, who stayed with him until help arrived the next day.

4.  We learned that 38 men – blacksmiths, professors, construction workers, students – can co-exist day after day in a 3-metre-by-10-metre cell with grace and humour and kindness.

5.  A man had made an impulsive purchase of a home entertainment system. He soon realized that it was a bad decision and tried to sell it on the Internet. He got a few offers, but they were all really low.  The man was getting depressed.  A friend of his offered to give him $2500 to top up the latest offer.  The system was sold.

6.  On an outdoor education trip in the Rockies, one member of the group developed hypothermia.  Her three friends took turns crawling into a sleeping bag with her.  Her temperature rose.  She survived.

7.  A 14-year-old boy had horrible acne.  Most of his friends retreated.  One girl moved towards him, always looking him in the eye, and including him in activities.

8.  A personal support worker who serves a cancer patient, upon hearing that she has been taken to a hospital, immediately phones the woman’s husband, wanting to visit.

9.  At parties, a woman always looks for anyone who seems left out, and goes over to spend time with them, in an expression of relationship, not pity.

10.  Despite the suffering and atrocities that his people have been and are subjected to, the Dalai Lama holds no anger toward the Chinese, believing they are “misguided people”.  Ingram describes the Dalai Lama’s attitude as “one of incredible kindness, even toward the Chinese Government, who would like him dead”.  He describes the Chinese as “my friends, the enemy”.

Hearts Opening All Around Me

Jody was having trouble breathing last night.  I called 911 and the paramedics arrived quickly.  Once she had the oxygen mask on for a few minutes, Jody felt better.  She decided not to go to Emergency.

What a moment in time for me, to stay silent in response to Jody’s decision, while yearning to have her fully checked out in the hospital.  In the words of Shantideva, an ancient Buddhist sage, “It’s then that like a log you should remain.”  Jody gets to choose.

This morning, she once again was struggling for air.  And Jody chose ambulance.  I wondered as we headed down the road for the St. Thomas-Elgin Hospital if she would ever come home again.

It turned out that Jody has a lung infection with some fluid buildup.  Not the re-emergence of blood clots nor the spectre of imminent death.  Now she’s sleeping soundly beside me at home, with an antibiotic coursing through her, and nasal prongs delivering oxygen.  (Sigh)  Perhaps Jody’s time on Earth is short but this is not the day of leaving.

I am so blessed to have people stroll into my life, happy to be in my world. Today’s angels included:

1.  Two young paramedics, a man and a woman, both with big smiles, kind words, and funny words.  “The unbearable lightness of being”, as one movie was aptly titled.

2.  The resident doctor who smiled so fully at Jody and me.  She sparkled. And her words were wise, coming from a place far beyond her years.

3.  The emergency doc who first saw Jody a year ago, and both compassionately and assertively suggested that she may have cancer.  He was “with her” both then and today, showing me how the contact of the moment outstrips the content.

4.  The pharmacy technician who saw that I needed the antibiotic in a hurry, who saw in my fear the deep love I have for my wife, and who pulled strings to get me what I needed quickly.  Our eyes truly met when I said thank you.

5.  The respiratory therapist who saw Jody briefly in hospital and then came to our place tonight to comfort her with air and love, and who patiently showed me how to operate the equipment, returning to a task when she saw I was confused.  She realized that I was “gone”, and allowed her caring to flow.

***

Out of the woodwork they come
Out of their phone booths
Out of their skin

Hitching Part 2

Yesterday I told you about my first experience with hitchhiking, travelling with friends eastward across lots of Canada in 1969. That was the first of five trips I made between Waterton, Alberta and Toronto, Ontario.  On the others I was alone.  Me and my little green tent and my junk food.

Looking back, I’m amazed that my parents didn’t give me grief about these thumbings.  They must have loved me a heck of a lot, and wanted me to drink deep from life’s stream.

I remember dad letting me off near the on-ramp of Highway 400, heading north from Toronto.  We were not a hugging family but his smile told me everything I needed to know.

With a few rides under my belt, I was feeling the freedom.  Nobody except the driver and me knew where on Earth I was at the moment.  So cool.  I usually had some good conversations with my benefactors.  Working at the Prince of Wales Hotel the previous summer had cured my shyness, I believe. This 21-year-old guy was feeling his oats as he talked to folks far older than him, and with much different life experiences.  Plus they seemed to like me.

One evening towards sunset, I was walking on a curvy road in Northern Ontario.  I know that walking doesn’t make much sense when you’re traversing four provinces, but it did ease the problem of “stationary thumb”. I was singing “The Long and Winding Road”, and not under my breath either. I’m pretty sure that the roadside creatures enjoyed the serenade.  I look back at that moment with great fondness.

I got to be quite good at picking a place to pitch my wee tent, usually in a little grove of trees or bushes, with headlights scanning the scene but not finding me.  Oh, I loved that feeling!  My very own hero, so I fantasized.

I think that my longest wait for a ride was nine hours.  Such a humbling experience.  I tried to look friendly and “together” to oncoming drivers, without coming across as goofy, but sometimes that just didn’t work.  I was left with myself, a few snacks, and often aching feet.  I liked who I was and it didn’t matter if my journey lengthened by a day, or even a few.

Only once on that trip was I scared.  Two drunk guys picked me up near Moosomin, Saskatchewan.  I didn’t think they’d hurt me but the car was all over the road.  I wondered if my short and increasingly eventful life was coming to an abrupt halt.  Happily, I convinced the bleary fellows that my destination was Regina, about 125 miles down the road.  Open door.  Walk on.

Somewhere west of Medicine Hat, Alberta, my windshield view began to include little bumps on the horizon.  I was so excited. After a winter in Toronto, I was aching for the mountains.  And perhaps they were aching for me.  My last ride dropped me off in front of the dormitories of the PW, my spiritual home.  Journey’s end.  And a happy young man.

 

 

Hitching Part 1

It was just after Labour Day in 1969.  The Prince of Wales Hotel in Waterton Lakes National Park, Alberta was closing for the winter and we employees were scattering to the far reaches of Canada.  Six of us looked at each other and decided that it was time for an adventure.  We lived in Calgary, Alberta; Saskatoon, Saskatchewan (two of us); Regina, Saskatchewan; Carman, Manitoba; and Toronto, Ontario (me!).  “Why don’t we hitchhike together?” someone bubbled.  So we did – in pairs.  After success on the road, we found the others in our destination city, stayed for a day or two in the home of whoever lived there, said goodbye to that person, and headed off towards someone else’s home.

I sure didn’t have any thought about us getting robbed or mugged.  Lots of young folks hitched from here to there.  People were good.  We would be safe. And we were.

I remember sitting in Carol’s kitchen in Calgary, absolutely full of myself at what I’d accomplished.  I didn’t know it back then but I loved my companions.  In Stephen King’s words, we were a ka-tet – a group of human beings bound together by destiny (or so I would have thought if I’d read any of his books back then.  Hmm … Stephen didn’t publish Carrie, his first novel, until 1974.  Oh well.)  Anyway, I was 20.  We were on a heroic quest.  And I was actually crossing a big slice of my country under my own power, so to speak.

One evening, our slightly smaller ka-tet was walking down an alley in Saskatoon.  (And a bit of background.  Waterton is a mountain park, and black bears often wandered into the townsite, looking for food.  My friends and I went out some evenings, trying to find bears.  We’d run if we saw one … not such a great idea).  Anyway again, there we were in that nondescript alley on the prairie.  “Why not?” I said to myself.  So I yelled “Bear!” and broke up laughing while my four compadres took off in a sprint.  Such fun.  Well, okay, they didn’t think so.

It’s funny, I don’t remember anything about my time on the road, thumb raised.  Guess my partner and I just breezed through unscathed.  No waiting hours for a ride.  That’s good.

Finally, it was just Marie and I crossing the Saskatchewan-Manitoba border, leaning towards Winnipeg.  Somewhere near Portage la Prairie, I think, we said goodbye.  We were friends, and we were shy with each other.  And I never saw her again.

So I was alone, moving past Winnipeg and through the endless rock and forests of Northern Ontario.  I was okay with being alone.  Besides, I had one more glorious quest.  Before we left Waterton, another friend, Sherri, told me that on a certain date (let’s say September 15) her parents would be driving her from Peterborough, Ontario to Toronto International Airport, where at a certain time (let’s say 2:00 pm), she’d be boarding a flight for Europe.  I told Sherri that I’d meet her at the airport.  And I did.  Hadn’t even got home first.  We smiled a lot at each other.

Whatever I’ve become since, who I am today was molded to some extent by this journey of like souls.  Wherever you are, my friends … peace.

Within

A legend from ancient India tells of a musk deer who, one fresh spring day, detected a mysterious and heavenly fragrance in the air.  It hinted of peace, beauty and love, and like a whisper beckoned him onward.  Compelled to find its source, he set out, determined to search the whole world over.  He climbed forbidding and icy mountain peaks, padded through steamy jungles, trekked across endless desert sands.  Wherever he went, the scent was there, faint yet always detectable.  At the end of his life, exhausted from his relentless search, the deer collapsed.  As he fell, his horn pierced his belly, and suddenly the air was filled with the heavenly scent.  As he lay dying, the musk deer realized that the fragrance had all along been emanating from within himself.

Where should I search?

At a Buddhist meditation centre
By the ocean
On top of a mountain
In a spiritual bookshop
Within the lives of the saints
At Bodh Gaya, India, where the Buddha became enlightened
In a bar
At 911’s ground zero
In Stanley Park, Vancouver
At an all-inclusive Caribbean resort
On a long distance train trip
In front of a stained glass window
In Walmart
Somewhere other than here

When should I search?

Tomorrrow
Now that I’m retired
When I’m older
When I’m wiser
When I’m more spiritually evolved
When I have enough money
When I’m surrounded by people who love me
When I’m alone
When I’m riding my bicycle across Canada
When I’m 70, 75, 80, …
Sometime before I die
Sometime other than now

Why should I search?

Can’t really think of a good reason