Waiting in Line

I am in a line. I am standing in a line. There is someone in front of me. There is someone behind me. Nothing to do. Nowhere to go. Just this line. It’s not a mistake. It’s not a waste. It’s not in the way of my life. It is my life. This is the practice: Notice the breath. Feel the weight of your body. Sense the space between you and the stranger ahead. The line will end. I will get there. But right now, I am here. We spend our lives waiting for something else. The next moment. The next answer. The next achievement. Even in line, we want to skip ahead, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. But the Dharma doesn’t live in the front of the line. It lives where you are. So I breathe. I repeat quietly: I am in a line. I am standing in a line. This isn’t punishment. It’s presence. I feel my impatience rise like steam. Then I watch it dissolve. I hear my thoughts rush ahead. Then I call them back. I soften my shoulders. I feel the ground hold me. No performance here. No spiritual show. Just this body. Just this breath. Just this moment, In a line. Zen doesn’t wait for special conditions. It doesn’t need incense or silence. It meets you here, t the post office, at the DMV, in traffic, in checkout lanes. This is the koan: Can you stay? Not forever. Just now. The mind wants to move. The ego wants to speed up. But the line has its own rhythm. Its own wisdom. It teaches impermanence: Every line moves. Every moment passes. You will get there. But for now, You are here. The person ahead of you isn’t the problem. The delay isn’t the obstacle. Your resistance is. So you practice letting go. You practice not rushing. You practice being exactly where your feet already are. You are in a line. You are alive. That is enough. The line will end. You will move forward. But right now, You are being asked to stay.