Its Just Wood

G Sakamoto

When I was growing up we had an undahouse. The undahouse was where things could be stored. Things that were important but not used regularly; leftover building materials, out grown bicycles, hollow tile, anything that you were sure you would use someday. If you had a big undahouse you could hang your laundry or park your boat. One of the things we had under our house was a set of wooden planks each about ten feet long, three quarters of an inch thick and twelve inches wide. I’m guestimating here since these memories are from a long time ago. I think the planks are still hung under my older brother’s home.

These planks were brought out and wiped clean when we had family gatherings. They were put on homemade legs and served as a table around which we sat, on the floor, and ate, told stories and listened to one another. It was not an orderly or quiet event. It was lively with people getting up to get more food or go take a nap or watch TV with the cousins for a while. People would come and go, arriving late or heading off to work or another gathering. As the evening got late, the dishes were washed and put away, the conversations and banter continued with occasional laughter or instructions to help clean up. Somewhere in all the activity, the planks were wiped down, stacked and returned undahouse.

A simple thing like three planks of wood can bring back wonderful memories of experiences from long ago. I remember Bachan who, when we asked how old she was, replied seventy-two for at least twenty years. She died at a hundred and one. The memories may not be accurate or complete but they still can evoke feelings that are palpable now. I think about my father who must have painted the planks and made the slotted, wood wedges that, when fitted together formed the legs of the table. As I hear the voices and laughter of family and friends from long ago, some who have died in the years that have passed, those experiences shape how I respond to what I am engaged in now.

The importance of the three planks is not determined by its composition but rather its meaning and significance is found in the relationships it shares. For you, my story may evoke feelings from your experience or nothing at all. It can take on importance if there is a shared relationship; a similar experience, similar gatherings in your life. These relationships are where value and meaning can be found. As human beings our life is the result of relationships, relationships that define us, that bring meaning to our lives. Shakyamuni described these relationships as dependent co-origination. All things are interrelated. So much so that we cannot exist outside these relationships.

These extend infinitely. We may not recognize it, but if we use gravity as an illustration, I jump here and the universe shakes. Although the consequence of my jump are infinitesimal, through the infinite relationship I share, I am connected to Shakyamuni and Amida. Although, I may not comprehend, that relationship makes possible my eventual enlightenment. Like my jump I have no effect on the Vow of Amida, yet I am affected by infinite wisdom and compassion, enlightenment.