On Generosity: Mutual Aid During the LA Fires and Beyond
"We have to build the world as it should be to make justice irresistible."
I began this last Monday, the day before the Los Angeles Fires. I’ve finished it quickly with a fatigued mind, so I invite generosity (!) with any weirder-than-normal transitions.
Light Hive uses Buddhist frameworks, play, and engaged practice to explore identity and the polycrisis. I identify as a queer, transracial adoptee. I am not a licensed mental health provider, nor am I a formally authorized teacher within any Buddhist lineage.
Agency, responsiveness, and engaged mindfulness have been my themes. I’m kicking off this year with what’s called the perfections or pāramī (PAH-rah-mee).
Most of my teachers come from the Thai Forest Tradition, in which there are ten perfections. The perfections give us sight lines to help us calibrate our responses to things. The idea is that through practicing these qualities, we deepen our relationship to ourselves, each other, and the world.
Generosity, dāna (DAH-nah), starts the list and the year.
Dāna — Generosity
“If sentient beings only knew how great is the fruit of giving and sharing!”
The first practice the Buddha gave to lay practitioners wasn’t mindfulness.
It also wasn’t formal meditation. In fact, in some traditions, both of these practices were reserved for more experienced folks, who demonstrated the teachings through action.
The first teaching was on generosity, an active practice of giving and receiving.
I’ll give my own rendition of a traditional story. Please be aware this is a gloss. There’s so much more context and significance that I can’t tend to or don’t even know.
In the old texts, Ananda was the everyperson. He’s out and about and it’s hot in India.
Ananda sees a well and a girl nearby. For some reason, it’s not an option for him to get the water himself but, also, that’s not the point of the story.
He shouts over: “Yo! You with the water! Wanna share some?”
Pakati, weathered by her lesser caste status, swipes left.
“Well, I’d love to give you some water, but I’m just a basic person. I’m like, so basic that TOUCHING the water would probably contaminate it for you.”
Ananda replies: “I ask not for caste but for water.”
Pakati is like, omfg I have never felt so seen. I will stalk him!
She follows him all the way to the world’s first psychologist and says, “Yeah, hi, Mr. Blessed One. I need to see and tend to Ananda forever. He gets me.”
The Buddha responds: “Friend, you just met Ananda at the literal town drinking hole.
What you love is Ananda’s kindness. So instead of committing to this one stranger’s needs for the rest of your life, I invite you to think bigger. Accept Ananda’s kindness and be kind toward others.”
The Buddha then takes what might feel like a hard pivot.
“Let me hijack this thread to make a political comment. You know how great it is when someone in a higher position forgives the wrongdoings of someone with lesser status?
There is greater merit in that lower-status person (cough, that’s you, Pakati) forgiving the wrongs they suffer and still finding room to appreciate and spread kindness.
This practice of generosity will help you extend compassion toward the otherwise arrogant and ignorant, even when you feel politically oppressed and powerless.”
In other words, while a person in a higher position can be generous, there is greater merit in the lower-status person sharing that generosity. Generosity is a means to overcome political oppression and personal depression. Giving and receiving is the ultimate not-self care.
The Buddha's teaching to Pakati wasn't about individual kindness—it was about creating sustainable networks of care. Today, we might call this mutual aid: systems where people support each other not through top-down charity, but through reciprocal relationships of giving and receiving.
Generosity is often tied to morality (up next!) and skillful livelihood. If we are inextricably bound to each other, generosity across all life forms becomes the obvious choice. It just makes sense to take care of each other.
From this perspective of circularity and inclusion, personal accumulation reads less like “wealth” and more like being scared, fragile, and alone.
Pakati’s story remains popular because so many of us struggle with shame around money. Generosity is a tricky topic in capitalist contexts because it’s often framed as charity, donations, or something otherwise top-down rather than circular.
Re-Thinking Currency
This question of giving and receiving brings us to a common moment in Western Buddhist spaces—the awkward dance around money.
By reimagining generosity as a skill we cultivate over time, rather than isolated charitable events, we can build a culture of mutual care. This looks different from traditional charity—instead of top-down giving, mutual aid networks create circles of reciprocal support.
A quote by Ruha Benjamin’s Viral Justice:
Dreaming is a luxury. Many people have spent their lives being forced to live inside other people’s dreams. And we must come to terms with the fact that the nightmares that people endure represent the underside of elite fantasies about efficiency, profit, and social control. For those who want to construct a different social reality, one grounded in justice and joy, we can’t only critique the world as it is. We have to build the world as it should be to make justice irresistible.
Resilience is overrated. We must become adaptable.
We've seen this in action during recent fires: people offering spare rooms to evacuees, coordinating pet care, and organizing meal trains. Each person contributes what they can, when they can. Someone might offer their truck for moving supplies today, then receive childcare help from another neighbor tomorrow. This is generosity as a living practice, not just a one-time donation.
And, importantly, we know how this crisis cycle fades. Helpfulness and donations will peter out, if we don’t make it a skill. Already, live streams are fading, the daily Reddit megathread isn’t as active. More tourists are doing the star walk.
But these are the practices. And we need to practice them because for mutual aid to exist, people need to make them exist.
Consider this line, from lesbian suffragist Elizabeth Cady Stanton, in a 1890 speech:
The moment we begin to fear the opinions of others and hesitate to tell the truth that is in us, and from motives of policy are silent when we should speak, the divine floods of light and life no longer flow into our souls. Every truth we see is ours to give the world, not to keep for ourselves alone, for in so doing we cheat humanity out of their rights and check our own development.
The fruits of meditation isn’t meant to be kept for ourselves alone.
On a related note, you may have noticed I’ve increased “prices” for the events.
This is because the point isn’t money, hence the sliding scale and named other ways to help. You get to choose your own mode and amount to share with me in return. Money is just the easiest currency.
There’s no shame in asking for the link, it’s just a way for me to get a sense of who’s coming. There’s also no shame in paying “less,” because presence is the ultimate currency.
In Buddhist terms, this means showing up with wholehearted attention—not just physically being there, but bringing our full awareness to each interaction.
This type of presence is itself a form of generosity, offering sincere attention to whatever arises.
On the Fires
We need a lot of grace (patience) with each other and ourselves.
We are in uncharted environmental territory, rapidly crossing several thresholds, and we’re screaming in all caps at each other. I feel urgency in my bones.
Still, generosity can also be restraint and forgiveness. Skillful speech and the karma of digital campfires and the like. Crisis care can be easeful.
Generosity might mean learning to give safely to ourselves. Sometimes the most generous act is knowing and honoring boundaries. As I’ve written about this week on Notes, fear about these fires has driven me to overextension. It’s been a bit surreal to see a city on fire with so many citizens asleep.
Still, drink as you pour. The activity must be sustainable and, as much as possible, joyful. As Tuere Sala says, in times of great hardship, we need “big joy.” Without joy, why are we doing this at all?
For frequent scrollers, generosity can be giving yourself your time and focus back, by limiting social media use, being prudent about which voices you listen to, or even just using the grayscale hack—making your screen only black and white.
This will always be situational. For some it might mean offering material resources, for others emotional support, and for others still, it might mean receiving when we're in need. Let the compliment land. Accept the gift. Receive help.
The volunteer center at Temple Israel of Hollywood was absolutely buzzing with activity today. This energy was much more useful for me than my media intake.
After a couple questions, I realized there was no centralized organization, so I just started doing what seemed to make sense. People began asking me
“Where do I put this?”
“What are we doing here?”
“How can I help?”
This last question was the title of Renshin Bunce’s chaplaincy talk a few months back. She laughed when she recounted asking the question as a still-inexperienced hospice chaplain. I didn’t fully grasp what was funny until she explained: Stand back, observe, and pitch in as you can, however you can.
Today, for now, I’m still afraid. I’m not ashamed to admit fear about what these fires mean for me personally, our city, our state, our country, our planet. Last night I was thinking about driving 3 hours east, up a mountain, in the winter, in the wind, with two aging, medicated cats. This would give us a bit cleaner air and water.
Yet, for now, I’ve decided to retreat back to Carson to stay local enough to provide manual support, if or as I can, while keeping my cats away from the foothills. I’ve been talking about building local community and an honest interfacing with what is actually happening. This seems like the time to manifest that.
Is it silly? Naïve? Will I change my mind later and bail?
I give myself permission to change my mind. I want to go at a pace that respects the urgency of this crisis and my own bandwidth.
I’m so grateful for a network of friends that accommodate my “back and forth” ness (thanks, Daniel!) as I try to balance personal needs, fears, and service.
At least for now, I’m going to do what I can to help others on the ground.
Our shared, charred, ground.
Takeaway Practice
How can you be generous toward yourself?
Here’s some ideas to regain focus:
Less screen time (for me, having strict cut-off times or zones—no screens in beds—can help)
Deleting 1-2 platforms (Sorry IG, people there barely knew me, but I’m consolidating)
Meet your neighbors! Start conversations with the people around you.
Any intentions you want to set for yourself?
Events
If the registration fee is cost-prohibitive, please ask for the link via email or DM.
If you feel weird asking for the link, I accept “payment” in the form of [whatever is within your bandwidth, like post-event feedback or sharing on social media]. No obligation though…you are a value add.
Adoptee Alchemy: January 19th
Adoptee Alchemy is an adoptee-only space to practice meditation and mindfulness. No experience is required to join.
We’ll create the container by naming the community agreements, meditate, and then share what’s arising for us. I’ll bring a couple light journal/writing options, too.
Regular Price: $15
Reader Rate: $6 (code: hive60)
No one is turned away for lack of funds
Creative Coalition: February 2nd, 2-5 PST
The Creative Coalition centers mindful play—a different game each month—to embody our not-selves, work with change, and practice interpersonal generosity.
This is currently a save-the-date.
The game I had chosen is still relevant—it centers on meeting relational needs while speaking through a translator. It’s one of communication and listening.
I just need to set up the link….when I have a bit more bandwidth.
Bio
Logan Juliano, PhD (they/them) is a writer, educator, facilitator, everyperson at Light Hive, and continuing lecturer at the University of California, Los Angeles. They hold a PhD in Performance Studies and the in-apartment record for cat travel.
I really appreciate this thoughtful and expressive exploration of Dana. It's really important to have context for Buddha's teaching as you have shared, which is often lost in my experience. How revolutionary the practice is within the culture of the time and place.
Having been through a fire of similar magnitude in Santa Rosa years ago, I am intensely aware of what is happening in my hometown of LA right now, though I am out of state.
Just want to offer thanks for what you are doing and how you are being and wish you well in this journey.
Thank you for all of this. And I loved your writing style here!
I’m curious what the role of asking for help here is. In the story, none of this would have happened if Ananda hadn’t asked for some water in the first place.
You said the other day “I wish I’d talked to my neighbors more.” and that stuck with me.
One intention I have is to actually say hi to people when they come pick up items I’ve offered on the Buy Nothing Group. In 2020, we all shifted to “contactless porch pick ups” but the whole point of the project is to create a network among neighbors through gifts.
Take care of yourself & thank you for sharing your experience and thoughts.