SHUNDO AOYAMA 73
a garbage truck did not come around once in a while, we would be
in serious trouble. Getting smeared with excrement or covered with
dirt is the ultimate form of buddhahood. We may think we under-
stand this, but when it is our turn to get our hands dirty, we end up
complaining.
Yoshio Toi, the Buddhist monk, frequently gave a talk entitled
“Bowing to the Soles of People’s Feet.” On one occasion another
lecturer approached him afterward, bowed to the soles of his feet,
and began massaging them, saying, “Reverend Toi, when you return
home, please bow to the soles of your wife’s feet and massage them
like this.”
Reverend Toi did so and later told us his thoughts about the
experience. He said: “It had been over twenty years since we were
married, and yet this was the first time I had ever seen the soles of
my wife’s feet. I was shocked to find how rough and misshapen they
were. Then it came to me. My wife, who was born in a city temple,
undoubtedly had much nicer feet when she first came to my temple
as a young bride. In my place, she would always inspect the fields,
function as the caretaker of the temple, and go out on any errands.
She shouldered all the rough work at our poor temple up in the
mountains, tilling the fields and gardens, carrying heavy bags on
her back. Her feet had suffered as she trudged among the rocks and
tree roots on mountain paths. Realizing the truth of this, I bowed to
them and massaged them in earnest.”
Have we ever seriously examined, bowed to, or appreciated in
any way the soles of our feet, which have done all the work of sus-
taining the body, always bearing the brunt of our walking? Even
if we did, would we truly discover their worth without comparing
them to other parts of the body, and enjoy work that requires us
to assume a role similar to the soles of our feet? They support the
whole body. If they are not a buddha, what is? But even this kind of