Shundo David Haye – Zen Priest

A week ago I moved back into Zen Center for the three weeks of ceremonies that constitute dharma transmission. The weather had changed right on cue for Labor Day weekend.  For once I was able to complete a full sweep of riding on four consecutive mornings. A couple of the rides were shorter, but it was still a way to boost my fitness after being sick and taking it easy – and before not being able to ride as usual over the next few weekends. We joined a large crowd of folks on Crissy Field on the Monday to enjoy the sunshine, with many kids and dogs enjoying the beach.

On my first night at Zen Center, a combination of the heat, the noise from the street below the window, an uncomfortable mattress and my sense of anticipation meant that I got the worst night of sleep possible.

After the morning schedule the next day, I was tired and hungry and craving caffeine, so I probably ate too much breakfast and drank a little too much coffee. At the first of the big bussorai ceremonies, I struggled because of this. And because it was the warmest day in San Francisco in a couple of years. My koromo has never been breathable, and I always sweat with the slightest exertion. More than 100 bows later I was soaked through with sweat, across all four layers of robes, rather light-headed and nauseous, my legs were sore, and I was completely dazed.

Over the next few days my legs started to adjust to all the bowing, but I was sweating even doing the few dozen prostrations during the early morning jundo. The bussorai continued to be challenging, even when I somewhat got in the flow of the bows (I write more about this ceremony on my Patreon page).

Saturday happened to be a one-day sit, which I partially attended. It was lovely to eat oryoki breakfast; there were experienced servers who kept things moving along nicely. I made a couple of minor form mistakes – both involving my setsu – that I noticed, and I experienced again (as with many of the chants) how, even if I don’t think I remember how it goes, in the moment, the right action or the right phrase appears.

I also got to watch my resistance to the schedule; when this first started happening ten years ago, it was one of the things that made me realise it was time to leave the temple. And I got to watch my inbuilt critical sense: the time drum is too slow, some of the chants are dragging, the wake-up bell cascades aren’t vigorous enough.

In the end I spent the bulk of the one-day sitting performing my ceremonies and working on getting closer to the end of sewing. I completed the last major tranche of work, the borders of the zagu, so now there are just corners and squares and ties, plus the centrepiece, none of which will take that much time by themselves, though they still need to be prepped.

On Sunday, Ruth and I managed to make time to go out for dinner at the Palace Hotel to celebrate (a day early) our first wedding anniversary. It was nice to soak in the trappings of my regular life, even as I have forsaken it for the remainder of the month.