Make the tea. Wash the bowl. Answer kindly. Take the breath.
That’s it.
That’s the practice.
We keep waiting for the big moment. The breakthrough. The wisdom. The stillness so deep it rewrites everything.
But the Dharma isn’t hiding in drama. It’s resting in the ordinary.
Every small act is a gate.
A way back. A way through. A way in.
You don’t need incense. You need attention.
You don’t need silence. You need sincerity.
Open the door slowly. Tie your shoes with care. Feel the weight of your hand as you pick up the cup.
Don’t rush to be spiritual. Let the moment be sacred.
This life is made of tiny things. Not accomplishments. Not enlightenment. Just steps. Just breaths. Just small, holy choices repeated over time.
The practice is not dramatic. It’s faithful.
A quiet presence woven into each moment until the whole day glows.
No one sees it. No one applauds. But something shifts.
The tea is warmer. The breath is deeper. The air feels alive.
You didn’t ascend. You simply returned.
To the now. To the bowl. To your own hands doing one thing at a time.
This is Zen. This is love. This is enough.
Enlightened Life Fellowship 