Karmic Transactions

Sometimes, things just seem to fall together correctly. Chance? Maybe, but maybe not. My day began, as usual, with a laundry list of things to get done. The first order of business was to pick up a few items at the grocery store so that I wouldn’t go hungry, food acquirement being one of the prime directives in my life. The store is close and I own a bicycle, so off I go, backpack strapped on. I’m about 40 feet from my front door, getting ready to leave the sidewalk and become a fearless member of the Pacific Beach driving community, when a curled up twenty dollar bill catches my eye. Needless to say, I stopped. I picked it up and quickly realized that it was actually three bills, all twenties, folded up together. The bills were crisp and clean. Clearly they had only recently fallen there. I looked around to see if anyone was walking away from the spot. Regardless of whether I am believed or not, if I had seen someone who might have dropped them I would have gone and asked them. The street was vacant, however, so I threw the $60 in my pocket and continued on my way.

The ride to the store takes about 10 minutes, and those 10 minutes are a lot of time to think about anything. I’m thinking, of course, about the money. I realize that at the moment that I picked up the money and put in my pocket, I had made a moderate withdrawal from my karma account. I know what some of you are thinking. Stupid luck, pure random chance, etc. The thing is, I just don’t agree with you. Nothing works that way. Every action causes reaction; every reaction an interaction; every interaction a part of a play. These thoughts flit through my mind as I’m pulling into the grocery store, as I’m locking up my bike, and as I’m buying my groceries. You can’t just take and not give, you understand, lest the domino chain be broken and fail to wrap back around to you. My brief shopping done, I’m in line to purchase my few items and behind me in line walks up your typical, older, Pacific Beach local. A quite tan fellow with a short cut, white beard, wearing shorts and an old t-shirt. Yeah, I know its January. January means shoes instead of sandals in San Diego. The guy unloads his items: Just a few produce items; more onions than I would have bought at one time. Maybe he’s like my Dad and freaks his kids out by biting into and eating them like apples. He has, I’m guessing, around six or seven dollars worth of goods, so I turn to him and say “Hey, let me buy your groceries. See, I just ran across $60 wadded up on the ground and if I don’t give some of it away it just won’t sit well. I’ll even spring for the onions,” I close, with slight grin. A new thought runs through my head: Many people would probably think I’m insane and not even want to talk to me about this. But not this guy. He lights up and tells me that if buying his groceries is going to make me feel better, then he’s entirely in favor of it. He goes on to tell me his own little karma story. Apparently, while New Orleans was in the grip of hurricane Katrina, his cat fell ill and required surgery that was going to cost $1000. Now, he wanted to save his cat, of course, but he felt wretched about spending that much money on an animal when there were so many newly destitute people in his country. Torn, he paid for the cat’s surgery, then cut another check for $1000 and gave it to the Red Cross branch that was serving New Orleans. True story? Who knows. Why would he make it up? What, really, are the chances that out of everyone in the store it would be this atypically acting, un-Pacific Beach character who would end up in line behind another local anomaly? Is the idea that good attracts good, that happiness breeds happiness, so ludicrous? Having made a deposit to balance my recent withdrawal, I felt pretty good about my account.

Groceries tended to, the two of us walk out of the market and I say goodbye, but we keep walking the same direction. A few seconds later, the two of us are at the bike rack, unlocking the only two bikes there, amidst a field of parked SUV’s and sports cars, warming up in the winter sun. I look at him as we are unlocking our bikes and say “Funny coincidence, huh?” He smiles and says “Not really.”

“The slightest movement affects the whole of nature; a stone cast into the sea changes the whole face of it. So, in the realm of Grace, the smallest act affects the whole by its results. Therefore everything has its importance.  In every action we must consider, besides the act itself, our present, past, and future conditions, and others whom it touches, and must see the connections of it all. And so we shall keep ourselves well in check.”  (Blaise Pascal)