She says, in this process, we discover that our own pain and others pain are not separate worlds. It's not that it's not that my practice is my practice and their practice is their practice. Because when we truly open up to our lives, we open up to all life the delusion of separateness diminishes as we pay the price of attentive practice. To overcome that delusion is to realize that in practice, we are not only paying a high price for ourselves, but for everyone else in the world. As long as we cling to our separateness, my ideas about what I am, what you are, what I need and want from you, that very self separateness means that we're not yet paying the price for the jewel. To pay the price means that we must give what life requires, must be given, not to be confused with indulgence, perhaps time or money or material goods, and sometimes not giving such things when it is best not to always the practice effort is to see what life requires us to give, as opposed to what we personally want to give, which is not easy. This tough practice is the payment exacted if we want to encounter the jewel. I We cannot reduce our practice simply to the time we spend in zazen, vital, though this time is our training, our paying the price must take place 24 hours a day. As we make this effort over time, more and more we come to value the jewel that our life is. But if we continue to stew and fuss with our life as in, we're a problem, or if we spend our time in seeking to escape this imaginary problem, the jewel will always remain hidden. Though it's hidden, the jewel is always present. We'll never see it, though, unless we're ready to pay the price. The uncovering of the jewel is what our life is about. How willing are you to pay the price? Yasutani Roshi said that you can start even with 5% sincerity, just pay a little more. That grows grows in sincere practice. Don't have to be perfect,