sometimes sangha is the people that sit with you on retreat. sometimes it’s the people you share a ride on public transport with. or the people that help out in the neighbourhood. the ones you carry in your heart is sangha. and the ones you don‘t want to let in. sometimes wild animal in front of the window is sangha. wherever you are. there is sangha.

sometimes I feel there is a gap between what is offered as practice and life. words like „practice gratitude“ are too distant from a place of deficiency.

but we can always turn to something, that‘s already there. the breath. that vital body. the cycle of seasons in the trees. still there.

before the conceptual mind snaps in. a felt sense in the body before language. what a relief.

„The Self and things of the world are just as they are. The gate of freedom is open.“ – Dogen

there is no ‚after’ this present moment and no ‚before‘. what you perceive as ‚now‘ has already been there, and what will be roots in ‚what is‘. your awareness shines a light on a hidden timeline. do you see?

accordingly, don’t practice as if there would be a ‚later’. there is none.

the closer you get. the more intimate you become with something. the less personal it is.

Michael Stone

„What is your practice?“ Yun Men was asked by a student. „An appropriate response.“ He replied.

the subtle effort of effortlessness.

in other words. simply be yourself.

the most difficult thing.

Turn towards all your body with tenderness. Meet all those parts that have been neglected or forgotten. That you have not been patient with. With love. Who else would, if not you yourself.

To sit with the beautiful, the sad, the aching, the irritating, the shimmering, the hot, the confusing, the mighty, the tiring, the decomposing.

Nothing. More.