Chapter 10
Halfway up the mountain my legs were burning and my mind was screaming: “You’ve got a long way to go!” I knew I had three or four more miles of steep incline and it just killed me to think that if I hadn’t had to turn back I’d be sitting in peaceful lotus right now trying to heal the world’s suffering with reflective prayer. Instead I was contributing to the world’s suffering by feeling angry and disappointed. And so my feet kept moving like rocks on stilts, dragging like heavy weight.
I started taking more and more breaks, just sitting there enjoying the beauty and resting my legs. The sun was quite hot and I knew it was starting its decent. My pace was slow, my miles long, and the heavenly clock was not sympathetic. The sun dial kept ticking.
I finally reached a sign that said, “San Jacinto Peak, 2 Miles” with an arrow pointing to an incredibly steep trail. I sat next to the sign and started eating an apple.
Many thoughts rattled in my brain, mostly centered around the pain in my calves. But I was so close! And I thought, “At the pace I’m at it will take me an hour to walk up a mile at this incline and forty minutes down. I’m weak and tired. And the sun is traveling down and I don’t want to walk in the dark. But, damn, to go up this mountain twice and neither time make it to the top and say my prayer? This world is suffering.”
Did I consider whether it could be the case that this goal of mine may be the cause of my discontent? No. Did I consider that prayers are just as powerful two miles from a mountain peak as they are on top of a mountain? No. This little Bikkhu was sore, mind and body, though admittedly having a better time than winter wonderland with brother mountain lion and a sheet for a tent - not to mention the big bruise stump of a leg. I sat on my rock and sighed.
I knew I’d reached the end of this trip. There wasn’t the time of day and my gas tank was empty. I knew that mountain top would stay put and wait for me some other time. Today was just another lonely day. I had my peace on my rock. I breathed deep and closed my eyes, feeling the light breeze blowing sweet love over my sweaty brow. It was time to head down this great mountain soul and drive back home. I took one last look up the steep, windy trail and headed back the other way.
It was a somber descent - not angry, not happy - just mellow and cool, sort of etched in sadness - a real general sadness like you feel when you’re happy. Your heart sings, your eyes shine, your cheeks glow, but you feel that real deep touch of sadness in the pit of your gut because you know it’s only temporary and you know that happiness and sadness are twin sisters and you’re an only child.
As I walked down sort of briskly, due to the steady and at times steep decline, I looked deep at the plants. I thought about myself as a part of nature, essentially the eyes of nature reflecting on itself. It was a great Hegelian vision myself as nature’s way to appreciate itself. And I did. I appreciated the colors, the smells, the sound of petals dancing in the smooth breeze. It was music. It was a walk. I counted one, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three, one, two, three and I just kept on that beauty beat. And my mind wandered here and there and I dare say I experienced a bit of samati as I danced myself unknowingly to the bottom, completely forgetful of my aching calf muscles and my weak thighs. I was floating with the tree leaves, happy as could be, happy as a child.
When I reached the bottom I took a good long look at the top of San Jacinto and breathed a heavy sigh. My skin was a bit burnt, my legs were plenty sore, my eyes were sleepy, and I kept thinking, “If only I’d gotten that stupid permit I would have made it to the top,” or, “If only there was more time in the day or I didn’t have to work tomorrow.” As with every disappointment there were plenty of “what if’s” floating around my head.
“Ah, whatever,” I said and got into my car. All in all it was a good trip but it could have been better. This being a clear example of how expectations discourage our Buddha nature.
I sat alone in the alcove with these crazy thoughts, knowing I needed one more trip up that wild mountain. It had to be a trip free of expectations, free of plans, free of goals, free of big thoughts or wild dreams. I just needed to walk up it, let it take care of me, let it comfort me, let it absorb my ego. I wanted to become a part of that natural habitat and be as natural as an Idyllwild pine tree or a blooming petal. But “want” and “need” don’t clearly express this intuition. Words can’t. And so this decision was the first very real step I would make to a Zen life.
I thought about school. I had four weeks left till I was free to roam. I would end off strong, pack up and visit home, and be walking up that mountain in no more than five weeks. My heart was filling with unbridled love. I felt a sense of fulfillment as I slouched over in that lonely alcove. And I put my palm against its low ceiling and thanked my meek alcove. So much reminiscence, spontaneous thought, serene moments, and even samati happened within this tiny box and I just felt thankful. It was time now to finish my classes and swing into Buddhist action, while respecting that this really meant no-action. But who am I anyways? Just some crazy westerner who thinks he can dig into ancient eastern tradition. What a crazy guy I was!
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