A Better Monastery

I’ve been trying to be less frantic, less hijacked by petty stuff, and more awake to my actual life actually happening.

I thought a Zen-like life meant becoming more serene, like being on a full-time retreat. This morning, my serenity was meant by the wet dog, my full bladder, the sun on my face, Mary’s expression as she took her meds, and one honest breath.

Maybe a Zen-like life isn’t retreating from reality. Maybe it’s being ambushed by it — through the ordinary, bodily, inconvenient, intimate moments.

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