My grandmother used to have an old wood stove. That is, it burned wood to generate heat. It worked quite well for her; she cooked many wonderful meals on it.
Now let's imagine for a moment that we're standing in front of that stove, and we say to it, "First give me heat; then I'll give you some wood." Would it work? No. Notice that we have to give the wood first, then we get the heat.
A gas oven works the same way. Can we say to the gas oven, "First give me heat, then I'll give you some gas"? No. We have to give the gas first, then we get the heat.
A microwave oven works the same way. If we say to a microwave oven, "First give me some heat; then I'll give you some electricity," will it work? No. We have to supply the electricity first, then we get the heat.
Do we imagine that relationships are any different? As far as I can tell, in all relationships we have to give first if we want to warm them up.
Just as we have to supply wood, gas or electricity to a stove/oven to warm it up, so we have to give to a relationship, and keep on giving—and then it warms up.
It's not just stoves and relationships. Everything in existence works on the same spiritual principle. What we give, we get. Existence responds to us. It's a responder.
Moreover, we can't keep score. If we keep score when we give, we're not really giving yet. Only when we're truly giving from our hearts, for the joy of giving and doing the right thing, does the warming magic begin to happen.
An example: I got my cat Nicky when he was six months old. He had been severely damaged by whoever owned him before. He not only didn't trust peope, but he would hiss and spit at you if you got within four feet or so.
Fast forward to ten years later. At this point Nicky is the most loving animal I've ever experienced. It's impossible to describe how affectionate he is towards me, but I can tell you that it's monumental.
Did that happen right away? Oh no. In fact, it took almost all of that ten years. For ten years I've been giving to Nicky in various ways, never missing an opportunity to let him know that I love him.
He responded slowly. It took five or six years, for instance, to get to the point where I could pet him consistently without getting bitten. And it's only been in the last few months that I've really seen the depth of which he's capable.
Think about that. It took ten years. Ten years. It can take what seems like a long time for a person or a being or a situation to warm up. But if we give consistently, without keeping score, things do warm up. They have to. In its most general form, it can be called the law of mirroring. Whatever we're putting out will be mirrored back to us, sooner or later. This becomes especially true when we're giving not in order to get, but simply from the joy of giving.
In Nicky's case, I didn't care that he didn't seem to be responding for a long time. Because it was such a joy to give to him. Every time I gave to him in any way, I experienced receiving more than I got.
How so? Because the very act of giving partakes of the infinite, takes on some of the essence or love of the ungraspable.
The infinite gives infinitely, without limit. Its blackberry bushes give blackberries to anyone who picks them. Its apple trees give apples to anyone who picks them. It's atmosphere gives oxygen to anyone who breathes. Its streams give water to anyone who dips a hand into them. It never asks who you are first.
It gives life to all who are alive. It gives the sun and the rain, the moon and the stars, grass and the laws of physics. It never stops giving, and if it did, you and I wouldn't be here.
When we give, things warm up. When we insist on the other giving first, things get colder. This is a universal law.
Now let's take a hard-headed, practical, real-world, really tough example: What should the Israelis do about the Palestinians? They should give to them. What should the Palestinians do about the Israelis? They should give to them.
What would happen if the prime minister of Israel started giving to the Palestinians? It could take many forms. It could be honoring them as a people, making gestures of various kinds to show that he values them, that he values their welfare. It could be economic assistance, it could be speeches, it could be halting settlement activity. It could be lots of different things.
And what would happen? Nothing at first. Every act of giving would be treated with suspicion and hostility—at first, and maybe for a long while, because of the long history now of mutual enmity. But after awhile, inexorably, the situation would begin to warm up. And Israel would find that it was living in a different world. I know that I'll be accused of being naive and a Pollyanna here, but the principle remains true.
What would happen if the chairman of the Palestinian Authority began giving to the Israelis? It could take many forms. It would start by honoring the Israelis, by showing that he is aware of their glorious history and their search to find a home. It could be all sorts of deeds of various kinds, some symbolic, some substantive.
What would happen? Nothing at first, and perhaps for quite a while indeed. Everything he did would be greeted at first with suspicion and mistrust, because of the long history of enmity. But sooner or later, the situation would warm up. And sooner or later the Palestinians would find that they were living in a different world.
Is there any situation where this principle wouldn't apply? Not in my opinion.
What would happen if the United States, instead of bombing Afghanistan, had channeled its anger and grief into giving to the situation of the Arab/Muslim world and all its pent-up anger towards the U.S.? Oh I know, I'll be accused of the most incredible, incredible naivite. But the principle still holds.
"Hatred cannot cease by hatred. Hatred can only cease by love," said the Buddha. He was pointing to the mirrored nature of existence. What we put out, we get back. What we sow, we reap. What we give, we receive.
Just like my grandmother's stove, existence warms up when we give to it. Especially when we give recklessly, unconditionally, patiently, with no thought of return, just for the joy of partaking of the infinite.
When we understand the mirrored nature of existence, we give to live. In our relationships, in our situations, when we give in every moment that we can and any way that we can, we'll get to see the results of this universal law for ourselves.
And we know that if we're not healing, our family can't be healing. And if our family isn't healing, our larger community can't be healing. And if our larger community isn't healing, our world can't be healing. It begins with us, with me and you, you and me. The healing of the planet begins at home, in daily life, in every gesture, every day, every situation.
The healing of the planet begins and ends in giving. And ultimately, what we're giving when we give is love. Love that doesn't want anything, but just gives in any way it can. The more we love, the more we experience the infinite, the ungraspable, the one.
Internally, giving becomes its own reward, far more than anything external could ever be. And as a bonus, as a cherry on the cake, the external situation also rewards. Fed with love, the "stove" sooner or later warms up and returns that love.
In this life, this existence, we are always looking into the mirror.
—jim sloman, for 11/7/01
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