It Is Possible To Illustrate This With More Analogies

At a time when riding up Mt Tam seems straightforward, the thing to do is to go to Mt Diablo, which I did today. Once again, I got above the clouds and the greyness of the city, into warm, dry California mountain air. There are two ways up the mountain, and I usually alternate - up one, down the other. The North Road is a very steady climb, which means that you can settle into a sustainable rhythm for the seventy-plus minutes it takes to get up the road, and adjust when the gradient is a little steeper. The South Road, my choice today, starts a little harder at the bottom, but then levels off for a couple of miles, before rearing upward again just before it meets the North Road, four miles below the summit, so you have to find your rhythm a second time. These days I don't worry about anything much until I get to that junction; a mile beyond that is a steeper section, which then eases off at a sweeping bend at Juniper Camp, a spot like the corner of Mt Tam where you are suddenly overlooking the ocean, where I almost always feel a great burst of energy. Then the trick is to see how much is left in the tank for the final couple of miles, which are, or at least feel, a little steeper than average, before the final effort of the last ramp up to the summit, which may only take a minute, but is always hard. As the miles tick by, I focus my effort on relaxing my spine between the shoulder blades, which releases me from a feeling of wrestling the bike, and allows the legs to do the work more fluidly.
I had plenty of energy when I was a kid, and was usually either riding my bike or playing football (the kind the rest of the world plays, with the feet), so it was hardly a surprise that I gravitated towards endurance sports as I grew older, first cross-country running, and then biking. There was something I found purifying about sustaining an effort until the brain subsides and there is just the motion and the intention to keep going, and something gratifying about learning the body's limits, how long you could continue, staying just below the threshold of exhaustion, and at the end, about feeling depleted and fulfilled at the same time. It was a great counter-balance to my tendancy to be cerebral, and has probably spared me much stress and anxiety in my life. Meditation, of course, has the same effect, but at the complete opposite end of the spectrum, and I have never stopped being a little surprised that I took to it.
On the way down, since the descent is not so technically demanding, I was nodding at those coming up, noting those who had a clean style and energy to burn, and those for whom it was a greater effort - everyone who can get up Diablo on a bike deserves huge credit. I felt the temperature changes as I dropped through the layers of air, a thousand feet at a time, and then I was down with the traffic again.
I don't think that this is what Shohaku was refering to when he talked about san chu nin (山 中 人), the person in the mountains, during the Genzo-e, but I was thinking of that phrase on Mount Diablo, as well as remembering other details of my time at Green Gulch. There was Shohaku's practice, which I remember well from other times, of starting every class, after he had nodded to the ino to lead us into the chant, by raising up his cup of water, taking a sip, and then bowing and saying "Good morning, everyone", or "Good afternoon, everyone". There was the almost complete silence of the zendo, apart from what sounded like plastic sheeting flapping on the roof from time to time; there were no streams of traffic, no passing cell-phone conversations, and not even the steady creek and bird calls of Tassajara. There was the sunshine, which we arrived in, and which made progressively fewer appearances as the days wore on, but which allowed me to sit out by the tea house after dinner the first few evenings, and feel warm and quiet. There was the intimacy of the priests in Cloud Hall; perhaps twenty priests were participating, and at most junctures in the schedule, before and after soji, before zazen and before meals, there would be a close array of us kneeling on the cushions and either putting on or taking off okesas together in silence. And there was of course the fact that, thanks to Carolyn's understanding and sympathy in the matter, I had absolutely no responsibilities during the sesshin, and could just sit there through it all.
Finally, I feel like I short-changed the garden in my last selection of photos, so here are a few more.

Jizo garden

Overlooking the garden

Starts in the greenhouse

I am reliably informed these are montbretia, or coppertips - they filled the area in spectacular fashion anyway

Sweetpea down at the farm

The Wheelwright Center

These are apparently cosmos, but the colour is cyclamen in my book

Definitely a poppy

Up A Mountain, On The Ground

Just like when I used to take myself up the road to the ridge the day after a sesshin at Tassajara, after yesterday's sitting I took myself up Mt Tam this morning; there was a similar reward as well (see the last picture here), in getting above the greyness that had been unremittingly firm in the city and had rolled damply over the road at Throckmorton Ridge, into an entirely different climate with endless blue skies above. It was still early, so the roads were quiet, and at the top of the mountain, I had three mountain hares, a lizard and a skyful of swallows for company, as well as a handful of other riders.
It is familiar terrain for me, which helps, and I had confidence in my legs, having been building up my form since I got back from England - especially having been up Mount Diablo ten days ago, which is like Tam, but more so.
There are several distinct sections of the climb up from Mill Valley, each with its particular joys and challenges; the key to a successful climb is meeting each of them appropriately, without losing a sense of how far you still have to go. There is no way up a mountain on a bike except under your own power - no-one else can get you up there. Even at the summit you are not done - the road continues, drops down and back up a couple of times, causing tricky changes in rhythm, and the final ramp up to the last car park is the steepest and hardest section of the entire climb - as it is on Diablo, only more so there.
At the top, apart from basking for a while in the warmth, there is nothing to do but go back down, which might be easier on the legs, but requires its own effort of continued concentration as you manoeuvre the bike around tight downhill corners, balancing speed and safety, and the heat turns back into cool moist air. At the bottom again, riding along the bikeway to Sausalito, everything seems flat and simple, and it is hard to believe you have just been up and down a mountain.

It's hard for me to say anything about yesterday's sitting and the beginning of the retreat. I know that Teah gave a beautiful talk, and that the group sat well together with a peaceful schedule, but I spent the day in a cloud of my own suffering. I had come to realise that I had to let go of something I had been cherishing since the end of last year, and it hurt. It was a sharp and salutary reminder that all conditioned phenomena are unreliable and unworthy of confidence, but no comfort was forthcoming. Rosalie checked in with me after lunch and kindly asked if I wanted to continue in the ino seat, but, as painful and slow as the day was in the zendo, it would have been worse not to do anything.
I was surprised, then, after this day of sitting and silence and heaviness, to wake up feeling completely grounded this morning, especially since I have been getting re-acquainted with several wee small hours of the night this past week. It was not a conscious effort on my part, but the fact of it made me feel that I had made the right decision; just like it says in all the books, letting go of desire can be the most beneficial thing, and it was so relaxing after recent striving and clinging. I am grateful that the practice allows shifts like this to manifest, whatever happens further down the road.

San Francisco from the slopes of Tam - today, only the very top of the Mount Sutro tower was visible above the fog

Likewise, the ocean was not to be seen today - one of my favourite corners of the road

P.S. Mike, this may not have been what you had in mind, but it is what came up...

Weather Systems

We had a fair amount of rain last week; much needed it was too, and I enjoyed its presence, even though I got soaked several times out on my bike. Luckily it had blown through by Sunday morning. Unusually I hadn't fixed my bike itinerary in advance; setting out with various options in mind, and encountering a fierce cold headwind from the north, I changed my plans to minimise the suffering: instead of grovelling up Highway 1, which is very exposed, I came up inland, and thoroughly enjoyed riding with a strong tailwind as I started back south alongside the Bolinas lagoon. Today it turned warmer and sunnier, so I felt relaxed for my midweek hour around town, although when I got up to one of the high points of the city, I could see fog along the ocean and under the bridge. And that is probably the last time I shall be out on a bike for ten days.
We are heading towards sesshin, and I have a big all-day meeting tomorrow on an unrelated topic. I have previously noted how this kind of conjunction tends to cause me stress, so I am paying attention to that, and hoping to stay spacious with it.
There haven't been many personal words on the blog in the past week, and there are a few reasons for this. Time has been a little tight, and I have also been involved in a number of what we call 'difficult conversations'. These kinds of situations tend to bring into sharp focus our intention to practise mindfulness and compassion, towards ourselves and others, and for now I will just say that they have taken up a certain amount of time and energy this past week, but that there have been opportunities to communicate constructively on the different topics, which has allowed the energies to shift, and that has felt good.
I feel like there hasn't been a sky picture for some time, and while I didn't manage to get up on the roof this morning, where there were wonderful bright mottled clouds, I did catch this on Sunday:

Ceremonial Objects

With the run of ceremonies we have just had, I have been getting good use of my favourite ceremonial objects. Long-time readers will know how I feel about my bessu - and it was nice of Wendy a couple of weeks ago to use a photo I took of them on the Zen Center website. Today the tsui-ching had another outing, with Joan's departing ceremony.
This had a strong feeling to it, as I met Joan's focused and vibrant presence across from me as I made the announcement; there were lovely exchanges with Christina, Blanche and Paul, and then, after we left the zendo, seeing Joan walking tall through the open double doors up from the gaitan really encapsulated the moment.
Some time ago, writing about departing ceremonies, I noted that I came up empty-handed when I googled tsui-ching. Well, perhaps by posting this picture I can change this. Choro, my ino colleague in Chapel Hill, had asked for a picture of the one we have, which is built differently to the one at Tassajara, so here is one of the photos I took (don't worry Choro, I will send you the others too). It is not in its usual place; I wanted it closer to the window to make the most of the light.

Since we were doing the Suzuki Roshi Memorial yesterday morning, I was kicking my heels until eight o'clock - though when I did get out on my bike, it was already deliciously warm out there. I made the most of the opportunity to take some pictures of the White Tara in the Buddha Hall, who has, as we have noticed this past week, been getting bathed in sunshine just before seven, when we are usually wrapping up morning service.

Fresh Air

The last time I spent the night at Green Gulch was almost a year ago, and it had a very different feel. This weekend I had to keep reminding myself that I was not responsible for a couple of handfuls of twelve-year old boys, that the people on the Young Urban Zen retreat could be trusted not to get into trouble and to look after themselves. I caught myself doing surreptitious head-counts to see if all were present or if someone had slipped away, but then I wasn't completely sure how many people had actually made it: I think it was twenty-three, of whom seven came on bikes in the end, though we had mechanical issues on the way out which made us a little late for the opening - we made up for it on the way back by getting to City Center faster than the cars, who were stuck in long lines trying to get over the bridge...
So it was an entirely relaxing proposition this time around. The weather was kind to us, and threatened rain did not materialise until some time last night; we had blue skies and fresh winds blowing.
Right before we left, Blanche said it was great that we were using the guest house, as that was what it had been built for, large groups getting together to take over the whole building. It was a lovely space to be in, especially with the fire going in the evening and early morning. We deliberately kept things unstructured, and one person who had several ideas for group activities found us more inclined to lounge around the fire than go running around outside. I think everyone ended up outdoors on Saturday afternoon, with various lengths of hikes being undertaken; we all met back in the small dining room for dinner, and then congregated for the evening with smores, game-playing for those that wanted, accompanied by guitars, chat and just sitting around in company. I was the first to go to bed, and drifted off to sleep to the sound of singing downstairs.
It was lovely to get up before it got light and set the fire going again, and listen as everyone else stirred. I was most impressed that three people had got up for the early sitting; we all joined the later sit and the talk, headed to the beach again, had lunch and did a thorough clean of the guest house before a closing circle. I think most people were very into the idea of doing it again some time, and it may be that we try it for the whole weekend next time.

The city suddenly showed up looking very close

Above Muir Beach

Muir Beach at sunset

Making smores

Story-telling

Morning group shot

Blossom time at Green Gulch

The garden shed

Stepping Up

I was wondering how I could describe the Mountain Seat to people back in England, and what came to mind was: well it's a little less fuss than a coronation.
Having woken up this morning at the usual time, I went downstairs to find the tenzo already making breakfast and the shika going to sit zazen. I managed to get the last instructions typed up before the umpan rang, then when it got light, went out to stretch my legs with a quick hour on my bike, taking in the sunrise over the Bay, the moon high over Coit Tower, cherry blossoms in the Marina and fog enveloping Mount Sutro. And then to work.
Since we had done so much preparation yesterday, the transformation to today's set-up took less time than anticipated, and the things I thought I was going to be running round trying to take care of at the last minute were being done well before lunch. There was a lovely atmosphere in the building; everyone was working positively with little stress - even the kitchen seemed relaxed when I passed through. With the chairs we had rented, we had more seats than we had planned for, which was a good state to be in - I think we ended up with space for 170 people in the Buddha Hall.
And then the dignitaries and guests started pouring in, and it was time to get dressed up. I felt like I had my finger on the ignition switch, as I went up to the Angesho tea in the Conference Center to ask the Shinmei, Christina, if she was ready for the densho to begin, and then we started getting everyone into their seats. Up and down the street a few more times, to check on readiness, and then it was really happening.
I had already been excited, when I looked over the ceremony for the first time, maybe three months ago, that I was going to lead the Shinmei in a jundo around the zendo. Hoitsu added to that in the rehearsal by indicating that the Shinmei should bow with the ino afterwards, which wasn't as previously scripted. It was the first of several lovely moments I got to share with Christina, not just prostrating in unison, but also the huge warm smile on her face when our zagus were folded up and we bowed again to each other.
In the Buddha Hall I had an unparalleled view of proceedings, but I enjoyed the backstage moments more: after the Jiden ceremony, where the documents are signed and stamped behind closed doors, and everyone else stretches their legs, I was invited into the dokusan room so that the new Abbess could check over the rest of the script; again, she was smiling and saying she was having fun. The jishas were also borrowing the script as they tried to remember their movements for the second part. And when all were happy, I signalled the shoten to get us underway again.
Now there were several times in all the complicated choreography where things did not go as scripted. On one occasion, one of the Japanese dignitaries was muttering instructions to the Ryoban quite loudly, though it didn't make any difference, and one key step got skipped over, though when we alerted Christina, she very simply said, oh, I should be there not here, and we went back to where we should have been. As everyone said afterwards, these are the things that make the ceremony real and human - indeed one of the sweetest moments was during the Robe Chant, which the Abbess was supposed to do unaccompanied, but hearing everyone join in for the second and third time was very moving. What was most abundant through it all was the sense of mutual support and great love.

Christina talks to Hoitsu at the Angesho tea

Flower girl and  photographer waiting for the off

Processing down the street

Couldn't get all the procession in one picture

At the gate

Shujo Jisha holds the staff

Ryoban mudras

Robe Chant

Statement of support from Daigaku

I think there was some Swiss-German humour happening here

Mondo

Abbess and Reb

Abbess and Hoitsu

Marsha got the last word

The World-Wide Web

I hadn't intended the last post to be on the merits of tea cakes, Tunnocks or otherwise, as it became with the comments received; it was supposed to be more a sketch of how online friendships with people you have never met can be as warming as those with your closest circle. The theme continues, as I got an email today from a follower of the blog in London who is heading over for the practice period here, and offered to try and find a packet of Tunnocks at Heathrow for me...
I have also been enjoying other kinds of community and friendship over this long weekend. On Saturday night I was over in the East Bay, part of a wonderful group of current and former Zen Center people with a strong trans-Atlantic bias, which makes me a little louder than I often am, especially when you add beautiful weather, pizza and beer into the mix. Walking around the Berkeley Marina as the sun set behind the Golden Gate Bridge was a great reminder of why living here is really not so bad.
The next morning, which was much chillier than it has been of late, I joined the ride to Spirit Rock which was raising money to support Eugene Cash, who is still recovering from his crash at the Buddhist Bike Pilgrimage. There were about thirty-five of us, among them familiar faces from the Pilgrimage and some new people as well, and I think we raised close to $7000 from our various communities - many people at Zen Center were generous in their contributions.  Later in the day there was an informal gathering in the lounge to mark Stephen's imminent departure - I won't detail the merits of the food and drink on offer, but Blanche looked in at the noisy group and made a comment about a big sugar rush; I pointed out that people hadn't actually started on the refreshments yet.
Yesterday, as we took an extra day off in honour of Martin Luther King, I spent the day in North Beach, the part of town I stayed in when I first visited San Francisco in 1999, which obviously holds some fond memories for me, catching up with a friend who has been away for a while, before coming back to attend another huge Young Urban Zen gathering. I feel much nourished.

Easy pickings for a photographer

Back at Fort Mason on a walk yesterday

Immeasurably Deep And Wide

Yesterday afternoon, another free ride on the swings and roundabouts of outrageous fortune: taking my bike out in the warm sun for a short ride in the Presidio; nearly getting knocked off by someone who turned into a driveway without first looking or signalling; getting angry at a person who was texting behind the wheel at a stop sign; leaving my bike at the shop for some maintenance and discovering it was going to cost at least three times as much as I expected; taking care of some work errands on the way home, then walking back the length of Page Street reciting sutras; a nicely concentrated period of zazen; being kokyo for the one-year anniversary memorial service for Darlene, where several people spoke sweetly of her and to her; having a lovely catch-up conversation at dinner with Paul's student Ann, whom I have practised with at Tassajara over the years, just over from Arizona, talking about doing Full Moon Ceremonies at her temple/home, with a procession from the front door, through the car-port to the patio; another conversation before leaving the dining room, an intimate and personal meeting with someone from YUZ; going to check in on Anna's soku training and finding it wonderfully well-attended; going up to my room to learn that something I had been greatly looking forward to was not going to happen after all and feeling gutted; getting to read a blog from someone who has just moved away, and learning more about their life, connecting back to thoughts of happiness.

In A Holiday Mood

I will dust off my usual disclaimer about not being culturally attached to American holidays, but I also really appreciate the mood here the past twenty-four hours. There have been a number of people sick in the last couple of weeks, and people are tired, so the zendo has been far from full, but yesterday was one of those days where everyone was working harmoniously together to prepare for a celebration. Senior staff had volunteered to put together the Thanksgiving Eve dinner - we wanted it yesterday so that people could have two complete days off, which I am most grateful for - but in the kitchen there was a lot of activity from all quarters. My role was to make mashed potatoes, which I do have a cultural attachment to, and I managed to do that between setting up for the Thanksgiving service and the service itself.
We had just about the right number of people for both service and dinner - a full house without being overcrowded - and the food turned out delicious all round. We followed this up with a skit night, to which a lot of people contributed entertainment, including multi-media happenings and Genine's Half-Moon Ceremony, as well as the usual inspired silliness, poetry, music, singing and dancing. I took the opportunity to try out my new camera, though playing with the settings meant some of the pictures didn't turn out so well.
I can't say that I slept in much this morning, but it was nice to get up and just drink coffee and read the papers, and then help Myoki, who was making gingerbread muffins for everyone for breakfast. Ordinarily I would look on having two days off as a chance to get in two bike rides, but since it is throughly damp out there, and I am still wanting to let my wrist heal (riding on Sunday in even wetter conditions was not a great deal of fun), I am going to have a completely unscheduled day, something that happens very rarely, and seems very long and spacious.

Genine was one of the MCs for skit night

P, who observed "It's a potato", watching Renee demonstrating her iSpud

Tova said that skit night would not be complete without some Bach

Roger and Richard in 'R&R's 24-hour jiko service'

The finale: Richard's 'mosh pit', dancing to 'Billie Jean'

Maladroit

We are always telling people how practice is a question of dealing with the situation you find yourself in, and I find myself in an interesting situation right now. Yesterday, close to the end of a nice long ride to the Bovine with Clay, we reached the near end of Golden Gate Park, and were waiting to cross Kezar for the final charge down Oak Street. I reached out to a barrier to balance myself, sat back, and the next thing I knew, I was flat on my backside: the bolt holding my saddle to the seat-post had sheared off. Several people stopped to help and check as to my well-being; luckily the fleshy parts had taken much of the impact, but I had also put my left hand down instinctively, and I could feel that my wrist was going to be hurting.
We gathered up all the bits and rode the last mile or so home, me unable to sit down, but it wasn't far enough to make that uncomfortable. I put an ice pack on my wrist right away, and also, over the course of the day, rested, compressed and elevated. I had most of the usual movement in my hand, but I didn't have any grip strength. The one thing I did that was less advisable was take my other bike and ride down to the Mission in the evening, as a friend of mine was hosting an event I did not want to miss, but it was quite painful trying to hold onto the bars.
I suspected I might not sleep so well, and so it turned out, waking many times to try to find again a neutral position for my wrist where it was not so sore. This morning, the person who was supposed to be stepping in as fukudo had obviously forgotten, but I found I couldn't get dressed fast enough to get downstairs in time to run the wake-up bell myself, and was worried as to whether I would be able to hit the han or carry the bell - since I normally do all these things left-handed. Luckily I came across Jay, who is one of the people here most likely to say yes to whatever request is made of him, so he was able to take care of it.
Sitting zazen was not difficult, and I managed to put on my okesa and spread my zagu, just more slowly and clumsily than I am used to. Gassho was not so easy, as I didn't want to press my palms together hard or bend the wrist back. At breakfast I was offered arnica and other remedies, and everyone expressed their concern. I am finding typing easy enough, but we will see what else I am able to do in this cack-handed state today.

Pilgrimage

I think it is safe to say that without my love of bicycles, I would never have come to live in San Francisco (and if you haven't heard that story yet, you will probably have to ask me in person, especially if you want the version that starts with a skiing trip I didn't go on in 1984), so to have a whole weekend where riding a bike is the primary focus of attention and Buddhism is the backdrop, is my idea of an all-round good time.
Having just scrolled back through the archives, I don't seem to have referenced the Buddhist Bike Pilgrimage, (update - well I did, but I couldn't remember for a while where I had, and the search function failed to find the word pilgrimage for some reason) but that was how I spent my weekend. Last year it was deemed that my place was in the ino's seat for the one-day sitting that begins the Fall Practice Period, but this year more lenient forces were at work, and I am grateful that Joan took over as ino for the day. I still had to put everything for the sitting together on Friday, with a few potential wrinkles with our new online registration system causing a little concern, and a late request that we have some assigned seating for the practice period also adding to my weekend workload.
I didn't have time to think about packing for the pilgrimage until eight-thirty on Friday night, and I was due to be out of the door at four-forty the next morning, so it wasn't until we actually got to Spirit Rock just as the new moon was peeping through the clouds that I started to be present for what was about to happen.
Eugene Cash gave a nice introductory talk about approaching the event with 'don't know' mind, which was rendered most poignant by the fact that he had a bad crash about twenty miles into the ride and had to be taken to hospital with some broken bones. I had been riding along talking with him just a little while before that, but we got separated on a climb, and then he crashed on the tricky descent.
Obviously, with the news spreading quickly by the time we got to the next rest stop, it cast a pall on the day, and the whole event, but there were many joys as well. It is a very social event, and having done it two years ago, I recognised a number of people, and met a few more, and got to hang out with some good friends, either riding together, or sitting in the pool on Saturday afternoon, and at meals.
On Sunday we started with perhaps unprecedented damp weather, but since the temperature is often nudging a hundred degrees out on the roads, it wasn't so bad, and the sun was out before too long. We got to experience some different styles of Buddism along the way, though I confess I felt like taking the weekend off meditation and ceremony, and didn't attend all the dharma offerings.
Today, though I am still feeling a bit tired myself, City Center is buzzing with the energy of a dozen new residents and the extra events associated with the practice period.  I expect the Young Urban Zen meeting tonight will give me a much-needed shot of vitality.

Swings and Roundabouts

It turned out that the answer to the question 'Who can I get to ring the wake-up bell on Sunday?' was 'me', since the person who had kindly agreed to do it did not materialise in time. As I have mentioned before, if I end up ringing the wake-up bell it usually puts me in a bad mood for two reasons: first that things are not happening the way they are supposed to, and we are inevitably running behind schedule, though I wasn't so concerned about that part this morning, and second, that I will spend the rest of the morning schedule feeling sweaty and clammy, with Sod's Law dictating, as it did today, that I will have put on a clean jubon especially for the occasion. But, when I caught up with the person later, and they apologised, I said, 'Well, the rest of it went well'.
The whole weekend has been like that, good or bad depending on what kind of spin I choose to put on it: yesterday could be said to have gone pretty smoothly considering the numbers involved. I became aware of a number of mistakes I had made in the planning, a consequence of feeling overloaded during the latter part of the week, but we worked around them. Things mostly happened without drama. I didn't really get to settle into sitting, and I felt very tired and more sore than usual, which put me in a slightly odd mood by the time we got to the opening ceremony for the intensive after dinner, after which I wasn't good for much of anything apart from staring into space.
I still woke up at four this morning, as I have all week, which is not helping. Apart from the wake-up bell, the morning sitting and service were nice, and the tenzo had put out a lovely breakfast. Mark Cavendish won another stage at the Tour; I was starting to feel relaxed. I had planned to go off to Mount Diablo, and found I had a flat tyre just as I was leaving for the BART, and then, once that was fixed and I was on a later train, we were delayed by engineering works. None of that mattered once I was on the mountain, though - as always in such a place, life boils down to finding a rhythm for climbing and then seeing if I can keep the rhythm all the way to the summit  (you can add your own analogies here).
I am not sure that I feel fully rested yet, but I have made enough plans that we should be able to get through the first couple of days of the intensive, and then we shall see what happens after that.

The Third And The Fourth

For the ino, the fourth of July means first of all a Suzuki Roshi Memorial service (as a non-American, it does mostly mean an extra day off for me, though I don't make myself so popular around here for saying that). I have written before about how tricky it can be to get the quorum necessary to perform the ceremony when it happens over the weekend; this time we had lined up a certain number of people for the key positions, and they all showed up, which was a great start, and people who had offered to help, even though I hadn't given them a specific role ahead of time, were also there to fill in. I was also pleasantly surprised at the number of residents who attended as well, so it all felt good, even if I was sweating just from standing in my robes.
I had been marginally grouchy in that I had been over-ruled on the time for this morning's service, and it took place at eight fifteen rather than seven fifteen as I would have preferred. The person who made the decision correctly pointed out the reason for my attachment to the earlier time - so I could get out on my bike earlier. When the weather is this fine, I like being out as early as possible, and yesterday was on the bridge by seven on the way to Mount Tam, where I happened to meet Zack, who may have got an even earlier start than me. So it was a little frustrating for me to have to hang around so long, having woken up at five anyway, and a number of other people seemed to be ready for action at seven as well. It was already warm enough to make me realise that my planned climb of Mount Diablo would be very hot work by the time I got there, so I adjusted my plans to a shorter ride up Mount San Bruno, which gives me the added opportunity to visit the beach at the end. While I was waiting, I took some photographs, as it is nice to have time to do that with this strong morning light, and watched the Tour de France - I was worried that the stage ending would co-incide with the ceremony as well, but when we came out they were just in the last kilometre, and I was happy to see Tyler Farrar winning his first stage at the race - I think he was happy it was the fourth of July as well.

Sunrise this morning from my room

Courtyard maple

Buddha Hall big bell

The umpan - rung to announce meals