‘How could I penetrate the mysteries of movement, connection, transparency? The books never described it the way it felt. I had to feel it for myself in my own way. Can I blend, merge into the air around me, the garden, the sound of the cicada? Can I remove the barrier between self and other, expand, meld, connect? Rock and dirt and pine trees around me. Roof tile, the smell of old tatami leaning on the wall. What is it to move through space? Where is my breath? Is there a more subtle breath always there, always opening me up? Is there a mystery there and is that great mystery healing? Is there a yes always there? How can I stay in sync, stay in this internal momentum, not fall out of this harmony, this wave pummeling me, guiding me? How can I feel the flower in the garden, become it, allow my body to be filled by the environment? How can I let go of the gravity of thoughts, exist as receptivity? Love? Grace? And the miraculous joy which erupts out of this naked, honest longing and merging.’ (from the Zen Embodiment blog)
And I feel that this is exactly in line with what Zenju is pointing to.