
I had the good fortune to count myself among Maylie Scott’s friends. Her untimely death still saddens me, yet she lives close to my heart.
I recall an evening at Berkeley Zen Center when Maylie bounced in with her joi de vivre and took out a pot and starting cooking oatmeal for dinner. A few minutes later she suddenly came over to me and asked me in the sincerest way if I wanted dinner. I think I blanched inside and said ‘no thank you’. Oatmeal for dinner, yuck!
Her simple offering brought up my conditioned expectations about dinner and food, the first one being ‘who eats oatmeal for dinner!’. Maylie’s bowl of oatmeal was Zen teaching at its best: unselfconscious and spontaneous. Maylie was making a genuine offering of sustenance, the plain fare of reality. She was hungry, so she ate. She could have cared less whether it was steak and potatoes, vegetables and rice, or oatmeal. She ate gratefully. In a society where simple and natural living have taken a back seat to driving with cell phones and fast food take out, Maylie's bowl of oatmeal sticks deep in my heart.
Ode to Oatmeal
Praise oatmeal!
Oh hearty fiber of earth
Sun and soil and rain blessing
Generously nourishing all
Thank you Maylie for your kind offer.









