One of my favorite classical Chinese novels is Tales of the Water Margin. It describes the release of 108 spirits that had been trapped by an enormous tortoise. The spirits took human forms and became outlaws. They gathered in the Liang Mountain and fought government corruption and injustice.
After wandering for over forty years, I walked into the Sacred Grounds Cafe one afternoon in 2001 and knew that I had arrived at my Liang Mountain. The outlaws were people from all walks of life but their spirits were unmistakable. They recognized me as I recognized them and we banded together ever since.
There are a few Liang Mountains in San Francisco. North Beach’s Cafe Trieste is presided over by Jack Hirschman, our former Poet Laureate. You don’t need a pass traveling from mountain to mountain but you may feel a little bit alienated without seeing a familiar face and the outlaws tend to huddle in groups. I was walking towards Trieste one day and saw such a group sitting in front of the cafe. Before I opened the door I heard my name. It was not a call out to me, but someone had written a poem with me in mind and was about to share it with the others. I turned around and saw Peter Sherburn-Zimmer’s angelic face, equally surprised to find me standing there. After he read he handed me the poem and I felt doubly initiated.
