What I Learned Training In A Zen Monastery

Describing life at a Zen temple as simple would be an understatement. There was no room for aimless wandering, idle chatter, or the use of technology. No television, no phones, no entertainment. And very little room for preferences. Each hour was meticulously planned into a clear and strict routine – meditation, temple chores (cleaning, woodwork, cooking, etc.), meals, and rest. Every moment required complete presence and wholehearted dedication to the lifestyle.

One of the core principles of Zen training is the unity of body and mind. When the mind wanders, the body reflects it – less fluid, less vibrant, less “efficient.” Life in the monastery was designed to highlight these moments. It served as a mirror, reflecting whether we were truly living in the moment or lost in mental noise.

With each passing hour, there was always a task that demanded full attention in the present moment. Despite internal distractions, the monastery had its own rhythm, its own routine. I had to align myself with it, to become one with it. Life unfolded continuously, indifferent to my emotions and opinions.

When the bell rang, whether I felt tired, excited, happy, or sad, it was time to sweep the floor. If my mind wandered, my movements became sluggish, erratic, and noisy. A gentle tap on the shoulder from the nun with her broom served as a reminder: “This moment, Giovanni. This is all you have.”

The monastery experience was filled with opportunities to be fully present, to let go of preferences, moods, and judgments, and simply flow with life. Each day, these small moments collectively trained the mind to operate from a more expansive, open space.

After a few weeks, a profound shift occurred. I could simply be present, without the need to anticipate or control outcomes, meeting life in its immediacy. Instead of being driven by thoughts and emotions, mindfulness became my guiding force. My sense of self expanded beyond personal confines, embracing the monastery and harmonizing with the world around me.

This was a pivotal lesson from the intense training period. Among the numerous benefits of meditation is cultivating equanimity – the ability to remain calm and composed in all circumstances, unswayed by dualities. Approaching pleasure and pain, praise and criticism, success and failure with equanimity bestows extraordinary clarity and resilience during challenges that often trigger confusion, anxiety, or stress.

Regardless of external or internal turmoil, you possess the capacity to engage with life from a place of presence and wisdom. You are not bound by the dictates of your thoughts and emotions – they only wield power if you grant it to them. To make this truth your own, you must courageously and consistently practice being present, mindful, and open through life’s trials. Recognize that your reactions are choices, albeit often automatic, not inevitabilities. You hold the power to transform them.

Each time life’s bell tolls, you have the option to face it with mindfulness and an open heart, or to be divided between reality and narratives. You can view events through the lens of personal biases and emotions, attempting to mold reality to fit your desires. Alternatively, you can experience and respond from a deeper, non-judgmental place within – a realm that perceives all moments as opportunities to express your authentic self, valuing each instant equally. This is the domain of equanimity, where the Buddha resided.

Acceptance is not resignation; it shifts the focus from battling the present moment to collaborating with it – whether to transform or embrace it. By accepting reality as it is, you conserve energy and clarity, and when necessary, you can actively reshape the world around you. Clarity arises from acceptance, whereas resistance breeds suffering.

Your response to external events remains unchanged, whether you react under stress or with calm deliberation. Life’s bell continues to chime. However, the quality of your experience, your way of being, can vary significantly.