I’d just yelled at the empty room for half an hour because I couldn’t find my usual USB drive—that was my fifth meltdown over a tiny thing that month.
Friends called me a "wound-up top," but I knew I was wearing out: insomnia, loss of appetite, and zoning out even during video calls with my family. It wasn’t until I saw "neurasthenia" on my medical report that it hit me: no amount of money can buy back health.
I made a fool of myself on the first day: I was 10 minutes late for the 5 a.m. morning session. When I rushed flustered into the Zen hall, everyone was meditating quietly—my footsteps were the only loud sound in the empty room. The abbot didn’t scold me; he just handed me a cup of warm water and said softly, "No hurry. Let your breath catch up with your steps first."

That was the first time I "breathed intentionally." I’d always taken breathing for granted, but under the abbot’s guidance, I realized my breath was always hasty, like I was rushing somewhere. When I tried focusing on the air flowing in and out of my nostrils, my chaotic thoughts slowly calmed down—and the throbbing in my temples even eased up.

Zen retreat days were simple but full of healing little moments. The schedule was light: besides meditation, we learned tea ceremony, copied scriptures, or picked tea leaves on the mountain behind the retreat. One afternoon, squatting by the tea bushes, I watched sunlight filter through the leaves onto the back of my hand, and smelled the faint tea fragrance in the air. Suddenly, I remembered picking cucumbers in my grandma’s garden as a kid—that pure, undisturbed joy I hadn’t felt in years.

The biggest surprise was "Silent Day." We couldn’t speak all day, only communicating with eye contact and gestures. I was anxious at first, worrying about missing work messages. But when my phone was collected and there were no notifications or meeting reminders, I actually felt relieved. That night, I wrote in my journal: "Turns out so many things we say every day are just unnecessary mental clutter."

Colleagues said I’d "changed" when I got back to work: I stopped interrupting others in meetings and no longer lost my temper when things went wrong. Last time we had a customer complaint, I would’ve pulled an all-nighter revising the plan before. This time, I went to bed on time at 10 p.m. and solved it easily the next morning with a clear plan.
If you’re also crushed by work, drained by trivialities, lying awake all night, or even forgetting how to eat and breathe properly—I truly suggest you give yourself some time to reset and recharge.
There’s no cheesy self-help talk here—just a quiet Zen hall, fresh air, and a group of people who want to slow down. You don’t have to force yourself to "achieve enlightenment"; just come with a tired heart and follow the abbot to rediscover your own rhythm.