There is always an internal light available, And so you will always be infinitely beautiful. I hope you practice whatever brings you to that light.

Last night I had a moment of harshly judging myself.  I didn’t have the right words to say in what felt like an essential situation.  I felt terrible about not having the right words – words that would portray something beautiful, and that would be healing.  In fact, I was couldn't find any words at all.  I said nothing and walked away with a heavy heart.

Thank goodness for the morning.   As I lit incense and prostrated to the path before me, I thought of my heavy judgment against myself the previous night and smiled.  Slowly breathing in… “Ah, the things I do to myself!”  I laughed out loud, and let go.  It’s ok to not have the right words. We all fumble from time to time, get awkward, and it can feel terrible, but we will always be infinitely beautiful.  It's essential to remember this about ourselves and others.  If I ever see another fumbling with their words, especially if I am hoping they have the perfect words for me, the perfect presence, may I see their infinite beauty instead... and the beauty of the moment we are sharing.

It's very rare for me to accomplish that unless I have a solid practice.  Of course, even with practice, I just touch the tip of the iceberg.

Lighting the incense, making the prostrations: these physical ritualistic actions allowed me to let go.  Lighting incense and touching my head to the floor fills me with the sense of the beauty of the path and the choice to follow it.  Feeling this automatically and swiftly negated any remaining judgment of myself and of anything else: in the posture of full commitment to Buddhism, they vanished. 

I have these wonderful resources: ritual, prayer, zazen, the breath, sensing into my body… more and more, the precepts, and just taking a moment to be still and notice whatever is happening.  These resources are always there for me to help me reorient my energy.  As I consider last night, I think to myself, “I practice alone in my room, and I practice with people in the zendo.  But for the most part I have not brought these powerful tools into my friendships and loves.”

Right now I am thinking of dharma brothers and sisters: those friends who love and support one another on the path, people to whom I can more easily say, “wait a second, I’m talking too quickly.  My speech is frayed and is fraying my mind.  I am not speaking with clarity and love.  Can we take a moment while I try to be more present with how I’m speaking?”  Only, if you are close, you don’t have to say that, you just give them a look, or they give you a look.      

It is becoming more important for me to let others see me as someone with true intentions to walk this path.  Zen is not just an interesting thing that I do, it’s who I am, it’s the way I shape myself.  I feel like I’m made for it.  And I need it.  So I also need to say more often to those people closest to me, “I feel like I need to sit right now.  I’m going to go do that.”  Or, “Would you like to sit with me?  Cook a silent meal together?  Pray over our wonderful food together?  Find ways to be more present with each other and loving of one another?”  Because this is how I want to live my life, yet even with those closest to me, I rarely make it my intention to live that way around them, or with them, and so that internal light, that clarity and love that is always inside me, plays a far lesser role in my relationships than I would hope.  One of my deepest desires is to live with others in such a way that we all develop clarity and love together.  So I hope I get up the guts and figure out how to ask a few people about being dharma brothers and sisters and supporting each other in this.  It's not just that I'm shy about it, it's a deep thing to place in front of another... 

Ritual feels like a tangent at this point, but just a few thoughts: ritual also helps me tap into internal light – I realize I almost never use the phrase, usually I talk about being calm and loving but it’s all the same – and I think it would help many others if they could play with it more and figure out how to feel, in their body, in their heart, what the true intention is.  What is the feeling, not only of the bow or the prostration, but of fluffing the zafu?  I know many people at the Zen center don’t like the ritual aspects so much, but I think there’s a universe to be discovered there.  Rituals seem strange to people in this modern world, and I think part of that has to do with rather shallow conceptions of religion, but also of the human body.  This body, this heart, this mind, are not separate things.  Ritual can be many things, one aspect is the art of using the body to tap into internal light and actualize the most worthy intentions.  Ritual is part of that bigger question, "How can we use our bodies to facilitate becoming more calm, clear sighted, and loving?"