This is my bowl. There are many like it, but this one is mine.
My bowl is my best friend. It is my life. I must accept what falls into it as I must accept what falls into my life.
My bowl, without me, is useless. Without my bowl, I am useless. I must fill my bowl according to the precepts. I must live more compassionately than the unenlightened. I must become enlightened. I will.
My bowl reminds me that what counts in practice is not the candles I light, the lines I chant, nor the smoke I make. I know that it is my acts that count. I will act.
My bowl is sangha, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will carry it like a brother. I will love it new and old, perfect and cracked, full and empty. I will keep my bowl clean and ready, even as I am clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will.
By the Dharma, I swear this creed. My bowl and I are sojourners after truth. We are masters of the practice. We are the saviours of my life.
So be it, until all sentient beings are saved and there is no suffering, but peace.