Imagine the day beginning before dawn, when the first bell reverberates through mist-shrouded courtyards. In Chan monasteries, waking often comes at 3:30 AM—an invitation to rise and shine, long before city streets stir. A second bell calls everyone to the meditation hall, where cushions line up like silent sentinels. Thirty to forty minutes of sitting practice (zuò chán) follow, eyes softly lowered, breath as anchor.

When that session wraps up, there’s no lounging around. A quick “bowl of the eye”—a light vegetarian breakfast in near-silence—keeps bodies fueled without waking the mind’s chatter. Chanting comes next: The entire Sangha gathers to recite sutras, offering a living bridge between ancient teachings and today’s moment. Voices weave together, creating a tapestry of sound that’s at once grounding and uplifting.

Mid-morning ushers in work practice, or “samu.” Tasks range from sweeping courtyards and prepping tea to gardening and cooking. Each chore becomes its own meditation: broom in hand, every stroke is an exercise in presence. With sustainability in the limelight—think rooftop gardens and solar panels—some monasteries even blend traditional samu with eco-friendly initiatives, reflecting how Chan adapts to modern concerns.

Lunch unfolds in the formal “tenzo” style, plates aligned and no words exchanged. Eating becomes a ritual of gratitude, broken only by the quiet clang of chopsticks. An afternoon nap might sneak in for those who dare, but often the focus shifts to Dharma talks or working through koans—those little enigmas that crack open the mind.

As dusk settles, another round of chanting pulses through the halls, followed by final sitting practice. The evening curfew bell signals bedtime; monks retreat to simple quarters, lit only by a single lantern. Even here, the practice doesn’t pause: falling asleep can become an act of mindfulness at the edge of dream and wakefulness.

Across the globe, mindfulness apps and corporate retreats borrow pieces of this daily rhythm, yet nothing quite captures the full tapestry of a Chan monastery’s heartbeat—where every bowl, bow, and breath carries centuries of awakening.