Why I Let Zen Masters Beat Me With Sticks

Modern Monk: Lessons in Stillness, Strength, and Simplicity

Dear Permission to be Powerful Reader,

Woosh, woosh…

The stick cracks against my shoulders—twice. It’s quick, but the jolt lingers.

The monk moves on to the next person.

I visit Chapin Mill, a Buddhist monastery in Batavia, New York, every few months.

For two days, I live like a real monk. Being a member of this secret society is like attending Buddhist Harvard.

There are so many culty moments, yet everyone is blissfully unaware. We walk around the zendo in circles, going nowhere in no rush.

We stroll in a single file — a long snake of brown robes plodding along. We walk in silence for five minutes.

I watch my breath and try to absorb everything that I am experiencing at the moment.

The carpet under my feet.

My breath…

The sounds of nature outside.

My body…

We’re all wearing the same brown robes. It's very culty, but I love it. The zendo features an inner loop in the middle of the room and an outer loop.

Then we sit…

And that’s it. We sit, and I watch my breath until my mind goes quiet. When it fi…