While on our pilgrimage, my fellow monk Heng Ch'au and I made our way through Beverly Hills. Our daily regime of slowly moving through the bustling cityscape, one mindful bow at a time, was a spectacle that often attracted attention, both positive and negative.

Even among the glamour and flashiness of Beverly Hills, we found ourselves treated just like any other part of the street furniture. The people in their cars sped past, some oblivious to our existence, others curious or bemused by our unhurried pace. Some would wind down their windows to scold us, swear at us, honk their horns, or laugh. Occasionally, people would slow down to give advice, telling us to "get up," "go home," or "get off the street."

Yet, not all interactions were filled with misunderstanding or agitated energy. We did receive praise from some people. There were those who thought we were Muslims or Hare Krishnas, even Moonies, whereas a few recognized us as Buddhists. The most open and accepting of our procession were, interestingly, the children. They watched us with fascination, free of judgment and full of innocent curiosity.

Despite being physically absent in the celebrations of Buddha's birthday, we felt spiritually connected with the Master and the Dharma. We found joy in knowing that our simple act of bowing, which might have appeared strange to many, was in fact a heartfelt expression of our gratitude for the teachings and our dedication to the path of awakening. It was striking how, amidst the hustle and bustle, wealth, and prosperity of Beverly Hills, we found richness and fulfillment in our practice of humility and mindfulness.

Throughout this journey, every bow, every moment, and every encounter served as a reminder that the practice is a priceless treasure. And no worldly wealth or fame can match the inner peace and contentment we get from truly cultivating the Way.