“We should realize that the mountains actually take delight in wise ones, actually take delight in sages.” – Dogen 

 

Mount Tamalpais in Marin County is a majestic beacon at the center of the bay lands she looks out upon. Her beauty has the power to bring out the joy and the goodness in those who visit her. I have been in awe of and in love with the mountain since moving to San Francisco in the early 90s. So, it seemed natural that in 2006 I discovered the practice of circumambulating the sacred mother mountain. My first circumambulation was with Matthew Davis marking the publication of his wonderful book, Opening the Mountain (Counterpoint, 2006). Matthew has guided many along the route over the years.  

 

On a beautiful Spring morning recently, ten men gathered in a parking lot along the Panoramic Trail beneath the summit of Mount Tamalpais. Upon our arrival, we circled up for introductions. This was my job. The invitation for this gathering had originated with me and I wanted to introduce each friend to the group in a way that would provide something that the others could return to when they found themselves walking and conversing together. No strangers, all friends of a friend. Ten men held in the container of their generous spirit and delight in walking in a natural setting. We were following a circuit of well-worn trails.   

 

Circumambulation is one of the oldest forms of embodied prayer and a common devotional practice in cultures around the world. In comparison to Mt. Kailash in Tibet or Mt. Hiei in Japan, the 15 miles around Mt. Tam is a short walk. Yet, committing yourself to a long day of walking in around a mountain is great way to forget your worries and settle into a direct relationship to a wild place.  

 

As humans, we seem to like walking around things. We circle holy sites, not just mountains. There is a divine pointlessness to a circumambulation journey. Witnessing a landmark, or site from various perspectives reminds us that it is impossible to know something completely from where we are standing. We must witness an object or landscape from different points of view to truly know it. Sometimes, our destination delivers us to the very spot where we started.  

 

In 1965, Gary Snyder, Alan Ginsburg and Phillip Whalen established the circumambulation course around Mt Tam. They “opened” the mountain by walking the route as a spiritual practice. The poets marked ten stations along the way. At each station, chanting was offered… “Om Om Kring Kring Svarupe!” Mantra to Sarasvati, Goddess of Music, Wisdom, and Knowledge (Station Six)  

 

My favorite station is “Lone Tree Spring.” Entering the dark canopy of Redwoods, the air becomes moist, and the ground softens. These days the spring delivers only a trickle of the mountain’s water. Enough to wet my hands and cool my sweaty face and neck. Beneath the mother tree that I imagine was the lone tree the Miwok people visited for their water in the summer months, I called in the four directions. Offering my prayer to the trees, ancestors, and my group of friends. I asked to be received and held by the mountain, its inhabitants, and those who walked the land before us.  

 

I have hiked the Mt. Tam route on weekdays, birthdays, and holidays. With strangers, family, friends, and by myself. In the cold rain, in the wind, in the fog, under the hot sun and in the dark. Each time I discover something new about the mountain and about myself. The walk is long enough and the older I get, difficult enough to be an ordeal. In this sense, each time I walk it I am initiated into some new phase of my life.  

 

Although walking the route by myself I never feel alone, it is a privilege to share it with friends and celebrate the love, friendship, and abundance of good and joyous men. This is what we need more of in our world, men gently walking in circles delighting mountains. As long as these legs carry me, I will find my joy spending a day walking around the sacred Tamalpais.