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Following the heavy rains, scores of Chinook salmon showed up in Sonoma Creek, a narrow, thirty-mile stream that flows into the San Francisco Bay. They came to spawn and then die, as they have done for millennia. Extreme drought and decades of development brought the collapse of salmon and steelhead populations, forcing California to ban fishing of those species along its Pacific coast. Yet this year the large salmon, also known as “Kings,” returned.

Gaia shows that she can heal. Here is a koan for healing:

Yunmen said to the assembly,
“Medicine and sickness cure each other.
All the great earth is medicine.
What are you?”

—Blue Cliff Record Case 87, transl. John Tarrant & Joan Sutherland

Images and videos of the fires in SoCal bring painful memories for those of us previously touched by fire. Five years ago the Kincade Fire rode on the back of Diablo winds—similar to Santa Anas—devastating our rural Sonoma neighborhood: Charred live and valley oaks, burned manzanita and madrone, and underfoot, scorched grass. All the homes in the area, save our own and a few others, had burned. After the fire passed I watched a lone coyote amble on the blackened slope across the creek, searching for dead rodents.

Medicine and sickness heal each other. But despair has not been my strongest emotion hearing the terrible news from Los Angeles. I feel my appreciation for the power of renewal and healing that the great earth, Gaia, brings.

If Gaia can heal, perhaps we, too, can heal. When I hike with my dog through the Mayacama hills, most signs of the Kincade have been overtaken by new growth: the wildrye and fescue returned quickly, followed by madrone, manzanita and oaks. Only the gray pines remain as charred sentinels along the ridge line.

Despair could come easily in these times, especially for us gray-hairs. But at Pacific Zen we have a saying, “Despair assumes too much knowing.” I see my young daughters deeply engaged in great-earth work, seeking to make their future not just possible, but promising. One has worked for several years in forestry and is currenly training to be a prescribed-burn crew boss. The other works as an analyst at a political polling firm. When I meet their friends, I find them energetic, action-oriented, and full of hope. It is wrong and unfair for us to predict that they have no future.

Gaia finds a way, all on her own. We don’t need to help her so much as we need to get out of her way. When we do, the Chinook return to Sonoma Creek.

Homeric Hymn to Gaia
by Diane J. Rayor, from The Homeric Hymns, 30

I will sing to the mother of all, firmly-rooted Gaia.
eldest living deity who feeds all the world’s life—
whether on the divine land, in the deep sea,
or flying about—all beings feed from your plenty.
Fine children and rich harvests arise from you.
O Queen; you alone give mortal folk a livelihood,
or take it away. The one you graciously honor
is truly blessed. For him, all is abundant:
his life-giving fields bear fruit, flocks thrive
in his pastures…

COME JOIN US on Mondays for koan meditation, dharma talk and conversation. Register to participate. All are welcome.

Jon Joseph Roshi, Director of San Mateo Zen Community