Waking Up: A Week Inside a Zen Monastery

During my first stays at the monastery, I consistently slept with my glow-in-the-dark travel alarm clock mere inches from my face, tucked between the mattress and the bunk frame. My first night I even set it to wake me up early, so I'd be sure to get a bathroom right away and have time for coffee. The next morning, seconds after a few tinny beeps had sounded, I was told by my dorm monitor-my bunkmate-not to use it again (to my discredit, I hadn't thought much about its capacity to disturb others). When I went to bed thereafter, I would simply will myself to wake up early. Inevitably, I'd fumble to check my clock several times during the night, and I'd always wind up crawling out of bed even sooner than I'd intended.

Then I learned a wonderful lesson. One sesshin week I inadvertently came to the monastery without my clock, the only timepiece I ever carry with me. I had no choice but to trust myself and the in-house system of drums and bells, as most other people seemed to do. That week I slept longer and more deeply than I ever had before. Each morning I woke up with the drum, and, despite occasional waiting for a bathroom, I always had time for coffee and, usually, a few stretches. Far more satisfying, however, was the greater peace and solidarity I felt having let go of my petty private agenda.