I’ve been thinking of my time at the San Francisco Zen Center, and how much heartbreak I feel. I’m having to build a new form from the wreckgage of the despair I found one evening, in a long night. It passed from fear, to anguish. Why was this happening to me, what could I have possibly done to deserve such a cruel circumstance. I’ll never forget what I lost. The world is different for me now, and maybe that was the change i sought when I entered the temple, but found so early. There is a kindness that emerges towards your own being when you encounter such difficulty. The world will never be the same for me. Zen is my refuge, but isn’t that only a name? What is Zen but a word that shows us who we are. I’ve grown. And I feel like this may be the moment of realization, the impermance of things, the humanity and despair, love and intention. Someday I may write again with more hope, but today I am feeling the wisdom of a broken heart.