A newborn sparrow, among other songbirds, is called Altricial, as opposed to Presocial. This means that the chick is particularly unformed—blind, hairless, mouth agape to accept food from whomever offers, as it cannot recognize its mother.
Such was the baby chick who fell from its nest and into the bush along my parent’s driveway, where, at 18, I was playing basketball. I was altricial in many ways too, certainly blind, though most certainly not hairless. That gaping mouth open toward me in desperation, further exposed my blindness. I had no skills at the time to care for it, no internet to tutor me, no … I fed it with what I could find, most of it, I hoped, useful. I made it comfortable and put it in a warm space, where it died overnight. I buried it in the cigar box in which I’d placed it, and had laid it on some fresh leaves and and a fuzzy washcloth.
That bird has been with me since, carried along as a reminded of the random unfairness of life, my own inability to ease that suffering, and of my desire, even then, to be helpful.
I love his unloved, loving heart.
Common Sparrow, the name I’ve chosen for my current hermitage and, hopefully, future Zen center, is so named to honor that bird, and to honor the practice of opening one’s eyes. No blind unformed practitioner will learn to see for sure, but I hope to provide a place for insight, food appropriate to their needs, and a place, like all such places, people come who want to learn how best to help. In spiritual terms, I spent most of my life longing to know how to know a specific saving enormity. I wanted to know who to become who would be known by that same spirit. But the day I saw the baby sparrow I began slowly to want something else, something deeper:
I wanted to know what I can do to help.
I wanted to be the person who didn’t need to be known, but to know. Skillfully, decisively, lovingly. To me that is spiritual practice, Monk or not, Zen or something else. I don’t need eyes because it doesn’t matter who needs help, but I’d at least like to practice seeing as much as I can while I can.