Dogen: "You are intimate with buddha ancestors, intimate with other beings. This being so, intimacy renews intimacy." Daido was known for his boldness and creativity, yet I think of so many moments of his quiet and wondrous healing. Many who have known, loved, been his friend or student no doubt have memories of such times. I have a particularly special one. A day, again, in the Adirondacks.

I was in a great deal of bodily pain from an illness, but not speaking of it, and Daido had not said anything direct either as I stumbled a bit with the routines of twilight in camp. As it got dark, he suddenly ordered—“Myo, get in the boat.” I was too tired to even offer the objection of not being able, or that he should not, I didn’t think, use that imperative tone in this time/place/position/to that degree/etc., and just climbed down the rocks into the bow of the very small motorboat. We puttered out into the blackness of Moose Bay. Stars were just coming out. Everything I called bones and muscles felt as if beaten and bruised beyond expression. He knocked back the boat engine, and at once we were in a slow spin, the stern of the boat a pivot point as we turned and turned. Nothing was said. The whole sky was the whole mind. I imagine that we must have been there half an hour or so. Or maybe it was a lifetime. I lost time, lost body, lost pain . . .

Dogen and Daido would say: these mountains belong to those who love them . . . Belonging to love, to the mountains and the waters—this, I think, is the big legacy of Daido’s life and love.