donation button

There was once a woman who came here to practice zazen in the backyard zendo I built. I don't remember what she looked like, how old she might have been or anything else about her, but I do remember that after the sitting, she asked where the donation box was ... and was pretty seriously put out when I told her there wasn't one.

Later, based mostly on her irritation, I built one and hung it up. It didn't have a sign on it, but it was there. When people later asked about how much they had to pay or whether they could make a donation, I made up a new rule: "No donations until you come at least three times." This worked out pretty well, since most people who came did not come back more than three times. And for those who did, eventually we did talk about donations, but more for them than for me: I was working at the time, the zendo was there and they were welcome. For those few who stuck around for five or six years, I simply told them what I thought, which is that putting a little something in the kitty helps to level what can seem like a tilted playing field. I didn't run any Buddhist schtick on them.

For my own purposes, I have always tried to make the donations requested by any spiritual center I visited. But I made damned sure to make a donation to those which asked for nothing.

Money ... what a squirrely topic in spiritual matters ... and otherwise.

Today, after a good deal of inept fiddling around, I added a "donation" button on my blog. It leaves me with conflicting emotions. On the one hand, since I live on a fixed income, I could use the money. On the other, I will probably go on shooting my written mouth off for as long as there is an Internet connection. Is what I write worth something? That's dubious, to say the least: I write about what interests me and can't do much about whether it interests someone else. I will not narrow my fields of interest as a means of cozying up to a particular interest group ... so .... so... so I can tapdance and equivocate and say the stove broke, the car needs tires, health premiums are going up, Christmas is coming ... the same stuff as anyone else ... so....

So I could dither and dance at some neurotic length about the topic.

I guess it's like anything else: I did it; I am responsible; and I doubt if I will ever satisfactorily nail down the why of it all. It may stink to high heaven of me-me-me and still ... I did it and I am responsible.

There's a basket of rotten tomatoes over there on the table to your left....
.