I have always been drawn to temples.
I have been going to temples since I was a child,
and when I was young, I even considered becoming a nun.
Even while busy raising three children,
I was always happy going to the temple to do volunteer work.
Looking back, it seems that all those moments were
slowly leading me toward Templestay programs.
What changed my life so dramatically was one special night at a Templestay,
a trip I took with the mindset of “making time for myself.”

I have been volunteering at the buddha hall at Asan Medical Center in Seoul for a long time. I have offered incense, prayed, and offered words of comfort to patients and their caretakers. It was also my job to teach them how to do a proper prostration and to pray with patients. Hospitals stand on the boundary between life and death, and this is where I tried to ease people’s suffering a little with my Buddhist compassion. The hospital was not just a place; it was a part of my life.

However, when COVID-19 hit and the buddha hall closed, my daily life came to a halt. It felt like something was missing from my heart. At that time, I began to consider doing a Templestay. I had often been to temples, but I had never done a proper Templestay. I was frequently active at Bulkwangsa Temple and visited nearby temples like Doseonsa or Seunggasa Temple every weekend. As for the more distant temples, I went on mountain hikes to places like Bongjeongam or Ose-am Hermitage. But this time it was different. I thought, “I’ll really take some time for myself.”

The first temple I visited was Jeondeungsa on Ganghwa Island. I remember the sunrise seen through the refectory window, the sound of the wooden handbell (moktak) ringing through the morning air, and a warm meal. I remember doing the 108 prostrations, the dawn Buddhist ceremony, and even the silence shared among strangers. With every passing moment, I felt my mind getting brighter.On my first night there, I learned for the first time what “rest” really is.

When the cold air brushed my cheeks and the distant bell sounds reverberated in my heart, I suddenly remembered my mother’s embrace. It was a warm and peaceful feeling, like the embrace of my mother as she sang me a lullaby as I drifted off to sleep. It was a feeling that held me silently and allowed me to stay calm. That Templestay was an experience where I felt like I was in my mother’s embrace again.

From then on, I participated in a Templestay every weekend. At Hwaeomsa Temple, I meditated in silence while hiking to Yeongiam Hermitage, and at Seonbonsa Temple, I did 108 prostrations after hiking to Gatbawi Buddha. The forest path at Donghwasa Temple is perfect for meditation. The sunrise seen from the Jeondeungsa Temple’s refectory is fabulous. No matter which temple I went to, I felt at ease the moment I entered the temple compound. It felt like I was back home.

I enjoyed conversations with monks and nuns over tea, meditated in harmony with nature, and sat quietly while listening to the birds chirping. I felt like I was being filled with clear, bright energy with every passing moment. My life changed little by little with every Templestay. Good memories accumulated one after another, and I became stronger.

When asked which temple was the most memorable, I couldn’t easily answer. It was a different experience at each temple. At some temples, I cried, and at others, I laughed. At a few temples, I even ran down the mountain path after encountering a wild boar, and at some temples, I quietly slowed my breathing to the sound of the Dharma drum at sunset. All of those moments became scenes of my life.

The inner changes I experienced also affected my work at the hospital. When I welcomed patients at the hospital’s buddha hall after it reopened, I worked with the mindset of sharing the energy I had gained from my Templestay experiences. I also shared the wisdom I had gained from my conversations with monks and nuns. And I tried even harder to console the hearts of those who visited the hospital’s buddha hall. One day, a patient held my hand tightly asshe was being discharged, and what she told me still remains in my heart. She said, “I felt I relied more on you and was healed more by you than by my attending physician.” I realized then that the solace I had received at the temples could affect others in this way.

My newfound solace and inner peace became assets I could share with more people. Now, I tell stories to patients and their families with softer, kinder words, and tell them about the peace I found surrounded by the healing power of nature. I feel those stories can become the starting point of a new life for some of them.

I am now 69 years old. I have raised all my children, and my grandchildren are also growing up. Now is the time when I can exist unconditionally as my true self. Someone asked me, “What more do you want from life?” I answered without hesitation. “I want nothing more. I am living well enough now.” The reason I can say that is largely because of the Templestays that strengthened my belief that “life itself is practice.”

I recommend to everyone to try a Templestay if they are looking for a place to rest their mind. If you sleep in a temple for even one night, something will definitely change. It may be a very small change, but it could change your life little by little, just like it did for me. That one night you spend there could be the beginning of a life-changing experience.

Where should I go next? Just thinking about it fills my heart with diverse possibilities. No matter which temple I go to, my heart will feel at home there. In its embrace, I will once again gain the strength to go on. A Templestay is a journey that never ends for me.