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Photo: B. Fertman

Photo: B. Fertman

It’s happening. With my daughter in Korea, then in Japan, visiting temples and shrines, lighting incense, ringing gongs and bells, bringing our palms together, bowing in unison, saying thanks, making wishes. Finally, my mind sees only the people I love: my wife, my children, my friends, my students, and there I am, wanting nothing, but for them to be well, and safe. Rivers of people flooding into my heart: people asleep on trains, sitting in restaurants, standing behind counters, running in parks, lying in hospitals. I’m praying for them all. For how long, I don’t know. “Come on Dad!”  I look up at the golden 35 foot Buddha before me. He nods his head slowly, and smiles.

Daughter’s waiting. Time to go.

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