3 years ago I attended my first Buddhist silent retreat. Bowing is a regular practice that I found very interesting and joyful.
Buddhist bowing is something we often overlook sometimes, but I thought it might be good to discuss this a bit and share the historic background, Buddhist basics, but also a bit of my personal experience with this practice. Beyond that I’ll share a guided mindful experience that you can use to explore bowing as a personal mindfulness practice you can try where ever you are reading this article. Ready to jump in? Let’s do it.
In many Buddhist traditions, a simple bow holds profound meaning. More than just a gesture of politeness or custom, bowing is an embodied practice—an expression of reverence, humility, and interconnection. Whether it’s a deep full-body prostration or a gentle lowering of the head, this movement invites us into the present moment, reminding us of the sacredness in ourselves, in others, and in all life.
Let me share a few videos and thoughts on different bowing practice. Although this first video is not exactly one from the Plum Village tradition which I practice, she does share some good examples of using bowing as a meditative practice. This feels more like a yoga influenced practice and more secular than the traditional Buddhist bowing. She seems to be leveraging the asana of Child Pose and actually is much more like bowing prostrations. Have a watch and/or give this a try.
In my early retreat experiences bowing to one another was a beautiful level of offering respect and communicating how we see and honor one another without saying a word. I found it very nourishing. Then at the end of the first retreat we did the Five Mindfulness Trainings ceremony and as part of this and being an aspirant, we actually did touching the earth or prostrations with the Five mindfulness training candidates in honor of each of the five precepts as well as offering deep respect to those taking the five and to ourselves and the practice.
Last year I attended my first Monastic lead retreat and they went into deeper details on touching the earth and shared how we can give over our struggles to the Earth as she embraces us and holds us as we embrace and hold her with our bodies. It was very enlightening and offered a new way for me to see doing prostrations. Their overview made me want to incorporate prostrations into my practice from time to time.
In this video we share thoughts from a Tibetan perspective which offers a deeper more Buddhist exploration of prostrations.
Then I’ll share this video where Thich Nhat Hanh teaches about Touching the Earth (prostrations) and how the Plum Village tradition practices and thinks of this practice.
Bowing Beyond the Surface
At first glance, bowing may appear to be an external gesture—something we do out of tradition or etiquette. But in Buddhism, bowing is far more than a ritual; it is a way to soften the ego and touch the ground of humility.
When we bow, we acknowledge the beauty of being human, while also recognizing that we are not separate from others. It is an act of respect not only toward the Buddha or our teachers, but toward the Buddha nature within ourselves and each other.
Thich Nhat Hanh once shared,
When we bow to the Buddha,
we are bowing to the Buddha in ourselves.
This simple yet powerful teaching reframes bowing as a mirror—a way to see and honor the awakened presence that resides in all beings.
If you want to hear a longer dharma talk on this topic, here is a workshop by Sr Chan Duc from a Plum Village retreat.
Forms and Meanings of the Bow
Bowing takes many forms, depending on the tradition and context. In Zen practice, one might perform a standing bow with palms pressed together, followed by a deep bend from the waist. This is how I’ve mostly practiced at a retreat or even in sangha from time to time.
In monastic settings or during ceremonies, practitioners often do full prostrations—kneeling and touching the forehead to the ground.
Each form carries the same essence: a mindful offering of respect. We might bow:
- To the Buddha as a symbol of enlightenment.
To the Dharma (the teachings) as a guide.
To the Sangha (the community) as support.
To our teachers, ancestors, and even to each other.
Forms and Meanings of the Bow
One of the most beautiful aspects of bowing is its ability to bring the body into meditation. As the hands come together and the body moves with intention, the mind naturally settles.
We’re not rushing. We’re not performing. We’re simply being—with humility and care.
Each bow becomes a breath. Each movement, a prayer.
Over time, this gesture becomes a way to return home to ourselves. In Plum Village tradition, practitioners often bow before entering or leaving a meditation hall—not out of obligation, but to mark the transition and bring awareness to the threshold.
Even in daily life, bowing can become a small sacred act. A bow to your tea before you drink it. A bow to the morning sun. A bow to your own heart in the mirror.
A Gesture Across Cultures and Lineages
While the practice of bowing exists across all major schools of Buddhism, its expression may differ. In Theravāda traditions, a respectful clasp of the hands and slight bow is common. In Tibetan Buddhism, full prostrations are practiced as acts of purification and devotion. In Zen, bowing punctuates nearly every ritual, from entering the zendo to offering incense.
Rather than comparing or judging these variations, we can appreciate their shared spirit: mindfulness, gratitude, and respect.
Inviting the Bow Into Your Practice
Above I shared some ideas about trying some of the examples of the practices I showed. Further more, you don’t need to be in a temple or wear robes to bow. You don’t even need to follow a specific tradition. You only need sincerity.
Try this:
At the beginning of your meditation, bring your palms together and bow to your cushion. Thank it for holding you.
Before eating, pause and bow to the food—acknowledging the earth, the farmers, the cooks, and all conditions that made the meal possible.
When facing a difficult moment, bow inwardly to your own strength and capacity for healing.
Each bow can become an anchor, a silent poem of reverence.
Closing Reflections
Bowing is not about lowering ourselves. It’s about lifting the moment.
It’s about pausing in the middle of life to acknowledge what is sacred—not just in temples or rituals, but in every breath, every person, every fleeting now.
So the next time you bring your hands together and bow, feel the ground beneath you. Feel your heartbeat. Feel the quiet dignity of being human, and the unspoken love that connects us all.
May your bows be full of presence.
May they bring you home.
Guided Meditation to Try: The Bow as a Path to Presence
Take a moment now to settle.
Find a comfortable position—
sitting, standing, or kneeling.
Let your hands rest gently, or bring your palms together at your heart in gassho (prayer position).
Close your eyes if this feels comfortable.
Let’s begin.
Breathe.
Inhale slowly…
and exhale gently.
Feel the air entering your body.
Feel it leaving.
Let your shoulders soften.
Let the day fall away.
Now, bring your attention to your hands.
Feel the contact between your palms.
Warmth.
Pressure.
Presence.
Inwardly, say to yourself:
“With this bow, I touch the sacred in myself.”
“With this bow, I honor the sacred in all beings.”
Allow your body to bow forward slightly.
This can be a deep bend or just a gentle nod.
(There is no right way—only your sincere presence.)
As you bow,
let go.
Let go of needing to know.
Let go of effort.
Let go of the self-image that tries to be someone.
Simply
be here.
Bowing, not to a statue.
Not to a form.
But to life itself.
To the mystery that breathes through all of us.
Now, slowly rise back up.
Feel your spine unfurling.
Notice the spaciousness in your heart.
Take one more breath.
And offer gratitude—
to this moment,
to your practice,
to yourself.
“I bow in gratitude. I bow in peace.”
When you’re ready, gently open your eyes.
Carry this spirit of reverence into whatever comes next.