On wednesday I stepped on my mat and with the words vande gurninam I began to cry. Why crying? Why raining? The answer seemed to be that I was grateful for my practice: the confusion of daily living, the repeating desires, the pain in my back, with all of that I also had this - a place to be - and I've cultivated this place, built it over the last four years, the door swings open at a touch and welcomes me, does not threaten, is not discouraged, does not leave, is always waiting, doesn't grow tired or disappointed -- I have this place, in me. Here's the practice, the temple.