The nature of practice

I've been thinking a lot about my practice- seeing that I'm the one doing this, that I do it a lot, that I want to do it, that it brings me joy and suffering, and also, that I didn't see my practice for a really long time.
I think that one of the main reasons that I didn't see my practice was because I had an image or definition or concept of what "practice" is. (And I have to say that, as I write this, I am absolutely feeling like this post is just as much about me seeing my self as it about me seeing my practice. All of this is true for what has been keeping me from seeing myself as well.)
I don't know why, but I had this idea in my head that "practice" meant that you were studying sutras or reading buddhist texts or considering koans or committing to a lifelong path of buddhism with a final goal of being a monk or a priest or a person who was employed by or lived at and supported the zen center.
Since I wasn't doing any of those things, I thought I wasn't practicing. I thought I was just along for the ride, "using" the zen center for what I needed (love and connection) but not being a part of the zen center community, not committing to it by actually living or working there. I felt like a fake, like I wasn't legitimate and I definitely did not think I was practicing buddhism- still don't.

But lately I have been noticing that the voices inside my head, which have been coming in the form of my teachers, are mine. I have been noticing how I want to sit every morning and to sit long enough that when the time is up, my body prefers to stay still rather than to move. I have been noticing how I choose to listen to dharma talks on line. I have been noticing that I want to write about what I am learning on a blog. I have been noticing how I want to share my practice with others whom I meet in Japan. I have been noticing that the feeling of home comes up when I say the phrase "My temple." I have been noticing the pride with which I explain that anyone can walk in the door and sit zazen- that we even have a job which entails welcoming people at the door.

And then I noticed the people back home at the zen center. I pictured them walking around in the building, going to work, setting up the bag lunches, working in the kitchen, answering phones...At no point have I ever seen one of them studying a sutra. I don't know that I've ever seen any of them read a Buddhist text. Some of them work for the zen center, though many of them work outside the zen center. Many of them live there but even in doing this, it seems to me like they're doing it as part of their practice. It seems to me like the people who work for the zen center are doing it for the benefit of all beings- that their work is their practice.

I'm sure that people at the zen center study sutras, they often refer to them when I have questions about how to practice.  And I'm sure that they read buddhist texts because they talk about which ones were helpful to them at different points in their life. But this isn't what they do all the time- this isn't all that they do with their life- it isn't their practice in total. Their practice includes living. Their practice is considering their actions, considering how to support others, considering their selves within the context of this world and making their contribution to it in a way that that leads to less suffering- or who knows, maybe it's none of those things. But the point is that, though practice may involve studying sutras and working to support a building and a center that allows others to participate in this practice, it's still the greater practice of studying the self and considering others- I think.
I don't read buddhist texts. I don't study sutras, but so what? It doesn't make me different. I am not different. We are not different. I am practicing, we are all practicing, but by putting labels or images or ideas of what practice is I keep myself from seeing the practice that I am doing. And I am doing this practice.