In this talk, I reflect on form as a living, embodied Zen practicioner. Drawing on Rinzai Zen forms — gassho, sasshu, posture, breath, walking, and bowing — I explore how Zen is practiced through the body itself. The forms of practice are not symbolic gestures or rules to get right; they are precise, lived expressions of activity, receptivity, and stillness. This talk explores: plus, minus, and zero as lived experiences of movement, rest, and sitting how posture and mudra help call us back when attention drifts breath as a continuous expression of birth and death walking, chanting, and bowing as embodied Dharma activity how practice meets collapse, fatigue, distraction, and return — without judgment From the meditation hall, the reflection widens into life itself: how we are born and die many times over the course of a single lifetime, how identities fall apart and reform, and how practice supports us in learning — again and again — how to inhabit the world. Nothing here is about doing practice "correctly." The invitation is simply to notice what is happening — in the body, in the breath, in this moment — and to come back. About this podcast The Living Zen Podcast arises from my teaching work with the Zenwest Buddhist Society, a Zen practice community based on Vancouver Island. You can listen at https://livingzen.libsyn.com, or find Living Zen on Spotify, Apple Podcasts, and wherever you get your podcasts. If you'd like to support this work more directly, I share additional teachings and reflections through Red Mountain Way on Patreon. Becoming a member there helps sustain this teaching work. Another meaningful way to support the podcast is by sharing it — telling friends, passing along episodes, or sharing on social media. Comments, likes, and shares are always appreciated. I do read them, and they help others find their way into practice and community. For those seeking one-to-one Zen support, information about my work is available through Monarch Trancework. Thank you for listening, and for practicing together.
