Staying in the zen closet, but letting the door open

For a long time, I worried about how I would explain to my family that I was spending a lot of time at the zen center. I didn't know how to explain that I bowed and chanted, that I went there every morning to meditate, that on certain Saturdays, I would actually pay money to stare at a wall all day, interrupted only to sweep and do dishes, and that I liked doing this, and that part of me really needed this, that it brought me great comfort.
All of my worries came from me- from my own fears around what I was doing, what it meant, who I was, what zen was, etc. etc. etc. No one in my family ever seemed to have a problem with it (though my brother did ask me several times if I was going to shave my head and my sister just wanted me to explain zen to her, which I never seemed to be able to do because of its apparent inconsistencies).
Still, I thought there was going to be this big moment, this conversation I would have with my family in which I shared with them that, in fact, I really did go to the zen center, that it was a big part of my life. I imagined the different conversations I would have with each member of my family, how and when I would tell them about it, and foolishly pictured them talking about it with each other later, planning an intervention to "save" me from this "cult."
None of this ever happened. I never got around to telling anyone in my family. I don't know if it's because I was scared to, or if it never felt right, or if the timing just never worked, but it turns out, I didn't have to tell them. Instead, I was just truthful with them, and in the process of being truthful with my family, by just sharing myself with them openly and honestly, they ended up seeing for themselves that I went to the zen center.
I didn't intend to tell them about what I was doing at the zen center. And when I first started practicing at the zen center, I wouldn't be honest with them about it. I wouldn't lie to them, but I wouldn't share with them either. When they asked me why I couldn't make dinner on Friday night, I'd just say that I had a prior engagement with friends (instead of explaining that I was doorwatch- that I had volunteered to stand at the entrance to the zendo to help answer people's questions). When I started being jiko, I sort of explained what I was doing, enough for my brother to suggest that I had finally become an altar boy, but I explained it in a way that was dismissive, that denied the importance of it in my life, that separated my self from what I was actually doing.
Sometimes, I still do this, I think because I'm still unclear about what I really am doing as jiko. But lately, all I've been doing is being truthful with my family and sharing my life with them. My sister knows that I'm meditating at home now instead of meditating in the zendo because I shared with her about getting my bike fixed. My dad knows that I did the One- Day- Sit because when, at dinner on Friday night, he asked me what my plans were for Saturday, I just answered him truthfully: I'll meditate first thing, then come back for the dharma talk, hang out with my friends, and have lunch. And in this conversation, we ended up talking about meditation, and about how he knows someone who does it, and how he wondered why anyone would do that, and how he understands now that his friend needs to do that.
I'm sharing without worrying what my family thinks of me. I'm sharing all of who I am because I don't really have a choice in the matter: this is what I'm doing, I can't really help it, so it seems silly to hide it from them or present it in a way that's acceptable to them. That's just not being honest and I like them too much to want to deceive them anymore. Plus, the deception part doesn't really work, and it draws me farther away from them, instead of closer.
But here's the weirdest thing that has happened to me, with this whole "coming out of the zen closet" business. I have always, always had a hard time with the term buddhist. I have never ever considered myself a buddhist and would have walked an extra block out of my way to avoid the building had I known that it was a buddhist temple. I have nothing against buddhists, I actually had no idea what a buddhist was when I first started coming and still don't really know what it means to be a buddhist. My aversion has everything to do with my perception of any sort of organized group and me being a member of it, add on to that my perception that buddhism might be a religion, and you've got me in absolute refusal to associate with buddhism.
But this past week, on three different occasions, people have referred to me as a buddhist, and I have let them. The first time happened at dinner, with my brother, and I think it surprised both of us. We were discussing C.S. Lewis' take on religion, god, and life in general. My brother turned to me to ask my perspective on it, then explained to a friend of the family that I had become "quite the buddhist." In the past, I would have said "I'm not a buddhist, I just go to the zen center, so I can only tell you what I think the people there would say."
Instead, I just answered his question, and ended up explaining a basic principle of buddhism as it pertained to the conversation at hand. I watched my father as I explained this, his head bent forward to hear my explanation. I wondered what he thought about all this (we were raised Catholic) but I wondered less from fear of what he would make of it, fear that he would reject it or try to change it, and more from a place of just watching him, seeing how he was doing with me talking about buddhism this way. And I engaged in a conversation with my brother around this but it was more about buddhism and less about me. It was like the point about me becoming "quite the buddhist" had nothing to do with this conversation. It was just something that I knew, that I would speak about freely, that I had experience with.
The next night, a friend did the same thing. When she introduced me to her friend she said, "She's an old friend, a school teacher, and a zen buddhist." And I didn't deny it. I didn't say "No I'm not!" the way I would normally do. I didn't actually say anything, because no one was asking me a question or asking my opinion.
Later, I was reflecting on this, on why I didn't deny these descriptions of me as a buddhist. I wondered if I was okay being described this way because I felt comfortable considering myself a buddhist. But that wasn't it. I'm still totally uncomfortable calling myself a buddhist and really don't consider myself a buddhist. But what happened, for me at least, was that someone calling me a buddhist actually had nothing to do with what I am. I realized that before, when people would call me a buddhist, it would freak me out because I thought that it meant that I was a buddhist, that someone's label of me would determine what they thought of me or how they would judge me or perceive me. But this time, when people referred to me as a buddhist, it didn't feel like that at all. That label, someone saying that I am a buddhist, has no effect on my actions or my thoughts or my words. Their perception of me has nothing to do with what I'm about to say or do or how I'm about to interact with them. So I have no problem with them saying I'm a buddhist because their labeling of me has nothing to do with me, I'm still who I am regardless of what they call me.
Also, and this is where the closet part comes in, I just am who I am. Honestly, I feel like I'm still in the zen closet, because I won't refer to myself as a buddhist. But in the past, when I was in the closet, I didn't want anyone to know I was there. I was hiding in there and if anyone tried to open the door, I would pull it shut again, afraid to let anyone see what I was doing for fear they would dismiss me or label me or move on to another closet door and never open mine again. But now, it's like I'm in here but when the door opens and someone sees me, I kind of just sit still, shrug my shoulders and say, "That's right, I'm in here. This is where I am. You can keep opening the door and you can shine the light on me because this really is what I am doing. I'm not exactly coming out and showing it to everyone and I'm definitely not walking out of the closet all comfortable with it and everything, but I'm here, and I know I'm here, so you can keep the door open."