Summer Drum, 59th Day of Autumn, 525 M.E. (Betelgeuse): I got a late start to my walk today as I wanted to watch the 12:00 noon Georgia Bulldogs football game. Dawgs won, but I didn't get on the trail until after 3:30 pm and only walked a 5.9 mile Monroe. 

As I returned to my house, walking the final 100 yards along my block, I saw some debris on the street. What really caught my eye, though, was a dollar bill among the other paper and trash. I picked it up and saw that there was more cash, several dollar bills, a surprising number of fives, and even some twenties. As I picked it all up, I noticed a hundred-dollar bill, and then another. All told, it was $367, along with a bunch of receipts, some post-it notes, and a napkin with some names and numbers scribbled on it. An empty iPhone case seemed to be the wallet that once held the cash and papers. 

It was all in one little pile sitting in the middle of the street, and looked like it might have been run over by a car. The wind hadn't yet scattered the cash and other paper. There was no one around, and no traffic on my quiet side street. I picked it all up, pocketed it, and finished walking home.

Back in the house, I went through the receipts. Many of them were from Home Depot and Ace Hardware and I suspected they belonged to a contractor. I noticed a name, Willie J-, printed on some of the receipts and Willie's name was also written on the post-it note along with a telephone number. I called the number and after I confirmed that I was talking to Willie, introduced myself, and asked him if he had lost an iPhone case. I didn't mention the cash.

"Huh? No," he said at first, so I asked if he was sure. He sounded like he was in a car, and I could hear him frisking his pockets. "It's gone," he gasped, and then, "Oh my God, my money!" I knew I had found the owner.

"Don't worry, Willie," I said. "I've got your money." To say he sounded relieved would be an understatement. "Where was it?" he asked and I told him the name of my street. 

"I was just working there!" he said. I was correct - he was a contractor. 

He was only a couple of miles away, stopped at a nearby gas station. I told him to come back to my street and I'd meet him outside and give him his cash and other stuff back. He described his car and his outfit so I could recognize him when he got here. 

He seemed like a nice guy and it was gratifying to do a favor for such a likable person. He recognized that it's not everyone who would find $367 on the street, make the effort to look up the owner and return the money. I told him I was glad to - he worked hard for that money and we all need to help each other out if we're going to make it through these times. He flattered me with some praise, and when a neighbor passed by with his young sons on bicycles, he embarrassed me by telling them what I had done. 

After a few minutes, a handshake, a fist bump, and a bro hug, we both went our separate ways.

Zen Master Dogen advised us to do good things secretly while people are not watching, and if you make a mistake or do something bad, confess and repent of it. When you act in this manner, your good deeds aren't tainted with ego gratification, and you'll refrain from bad deeds to avoid the shame of public confession. Good deeds done for popular recognition aren't really good if your only intention is self promotion, even if others benefit from your actions. 

I may be squandering the good karma of returning the money today by talking about it here, but this little backwater of the internet barely qualifies as "public," if there's even anyone left reading here at all. Writing, journaling, and blogging my daily experience is a part of my practice, and I try to write as if it were for my own eyes only, even if others can see what's here.