I was about to run out of meter time when an elderly gentleman approached, moving about as fast as a snail with a broken leg. He carried two large bags full of food and sundry housekeeping paraphernalia. Red-faced and puffing. I offered him a hand.

“Why, that’s not necessary; I only live another two blocks or so. Yes, I would appreciate it. How kind of you to offer.”

I took both packages, did an about-face, and followed along directly behind. It took him six steps to cross each sidewalk square. Of course, speed is not of the essence. He was eighty-four; his wife eighty-seven. At the door he thanked me profusely and proffered a dollar. I declined.

“Go ahead, my boy. You’ve earned it. If I die tomorrow, it’ll just go to Uncle Sam to build some damned nuclear bomb.”

A strong argument.

By the time I returned to my Toyota the meter madam was just sticking a tannish envelope under my windshield wiper.

“But I had to stop and help someone carry his groceries,” I protested. “You’re not supposed to reward kindness with tickets!”

“I’m sorry sir, but it’s just your karma.”

Karma! Karma! What was that supposed to mean?

“Perhaps it is also my karma for the meter maid to change her mind and remove her unwanted gift?”

“No, sir. That is not your karma.”

She climbed in under the yellow turning light and drove off merrily seeking out the next unsuspecting good Samaritan.

The more I thought about what karma was the more furious and curious I became. So I decided to undertake a little survey to find out what other people thought karma was. It would also give me an opportunity to practice introducing myself to strangers — one of my many social fears. First things first. I moved the Toyota to Downtown Free Parking, leaving the ticket flat on the windshield like a bandage. The mall seemed a likely area to attempt such a survey.

It was Saturday and sunny which is enough inspiration to bring Oregonians out in droves. I set up three specific guidelines for this karma survey: 1) only approach people who are walking in groups of three; 2) give each person an acorn as we parted (I forgot to mention I had already picked up a pocketful of acorns as I left the old man’s front yard); and 3) walk gradually toward the library where I would consult with Webster (but he would get no acorn).

Of the thirty-six people interviewed I’ve selected a few responses, adding a flash description about each trio:

A) Three fifty- to sixty-year-old women with overcoats, dresses and stockings:

  1. Some kind of Indian religion thing that keeps them prisoners in the caste system.
  2. I think karma means that God is watching over people, all of us, all the time, and putting things before us to help us get to heaven.
  3. It’s from India all right, but those people aren’t Christian so I don’t think we should get confused in any of their idol worship.

B) Three teenagers — one girl and one boy walking bikes, third wearing a daypack:

  1. Karma is a candy you can’t eat when you’re wearing these (opens his mouth to display braces).
  2. Karma is what you say to your mother when she stops for the tenth time to chat with a friend when you’re shopping. Like, “I’ll wait for you in the car, Ma.”
  3. Nope. It’s an opera about a really wild and emotional and independent woman.

C) Three mid-thirties transient types, smoking and taking in the sun:

  1. It’s fate, same as fate. Whatever happens to you is karma.
  2. Like hoppin’ a freight. You climb in the car but you go where it goes and it always stays on the tracks.
  3. It’s why you gotta pee after you drink a couple quarts of beer.

D) A husband and wife and wife’s mother returning from lunch:

  1. Same as what you sow is what you reap.
  2. Everything is here to help you grow.
  3. Each person is being led to water but they have to decide to drink or not to drink.

Before I get to Webster, here’s a few miscellaneous observations: 1) two groups of three said they didn’t have any idea; 2) only about five people said, “Thank you,” when I gave them an acorn; 3) although they all opened their hands and observed it for a moment; 4) everyone listened to what I had to say and didn’t just brush by me; 5) after the first person responded, the other two answered in kind, building on or relating to the initial response.

From Webster’s 3rd International Dictionary:
Karma [karman — work or office; kara — doing]

  1. The force generated by a person’s actions that is held in Hinduism and Buddhism to be the motive power for the round of rebirths and deaths endured by him until he has achieved spiritual liberation and freed himself from the effects of such force;
  2. The sum total of the ethical consequences of a person’s good or bad actions comprising thoughts, words, and deeds that is held in Hinduism and Buddhism to determine his specific destiny in his next existence;
  3. A couple of relevant quotes:
    P.E. Moore — “As our desires shape themselves, so we act and build up our coming fate.”
    J.B. Noss — “the soul’s chief problem . . . managing to throw off or expel from itself.”

After I left the library I returned home and planted the remaining nine acorns on the edge of the garden. I want to be more attentive to what I set in motion if it is going to come back to me. Also firewood may be scarce in my next incarnation. Lastly, along with the two-dollar parking fine, I’m enclosing a note to the judge with a copy of this article.

This article previously appeared in What’s Happening, a weekly review of the arts published in Eugene, Oregon and is reprinted with permission.

— Ed.