Zen FAQ

It depends on the temple. Some places don’t require a reservation, but if it’s your first visit, it’s best to contact them beforehand. They can prepare for foreign visitors, and you’ll get a better idea of what the experience is like.

If you don’t speak Japanese, calling may be difficult. In that case, I’m happy to help you make a reservation—please feel free to reach out!

No worries!

Of course, some instructions for meditation and other sessions are in Japanese, but Zazen involves very simple movements. At some places, English-speaking instructors are available, or monks may use an AI translation app.

If you still feel unsure, you can check Zazen videos on YouTube. For a Sōtō temple, look for Sōtō Zen videos; for a Rinzai temple, Rinzai Zen videos are more relevant.

In most cases, you can simply follow the movements of the monks or other participants during the session. So, just relax.

Absolutely—100% no problem! At every temple I’ve visited, zazen is open to everyone. No religion, nationality, gender, or race required. The only “condition” is that you are alive.

Are you alive? If yes, then let’s jump in!

Nothing, really. You don’t need to bring anything. In fact, it’s better to think about what to leave behind rather than what to bring in. There are no strict rules, but it’s nice to let go of things like your watch, smartphone, wallet, or that emergency chocolate bar you always keep in a coat pocket.

If I had to suggest one thing, a water bottle can be useful—especially for a long session. Most places will serve tea or coffee anyway, so the bottle is just a little extra insurance.

Good question! I was also concerned about that the first time. What if I wear shorts? Is it okay to wear a wristwatch? Don’t worry too much. All they ask of participants is to wear comfortable clothes. That means no jeans, no tight skirts. 

Nirvana’s Nevermind T-shirt? I like it. But if you have something plain and simple, that would technically fit the atmosphere better.

Yes, you can bring your smartphone or smartwatch to the temple. They also don’t prohibit wearing them during Zen practice. 

But I’d suggest leaving those brain-hacking devices in your bag and sitting with nothing on you. In Zen, what we want is to open our mind not to the outer world, but to the inner self. Free from those tempting notifications, you can dive more deeply into the quiet sea within yourself.

Totally! Why not? Many people join zazen by themselves, so you’ll be perfectly fine.

Not at all. Unless you already own a real zafu—that round cushion used for zazen—there’s no need to bring one. Temples usually provide them for participants.

Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to have my own zafu. They come in different sizes, shapes, and firmness, so it might be nice to find a favorite one. But then again… where can we even buy zafu? Maybe on Amazon?

In some ways, yes. Especially at the beginning, many people struggle with crossing their legs. I also felt pain for a while, but once I found the right position and balance, it became much easier. 

If your body feels stiff, doing some stretching beforehand can really help! 

No need to worry. 

Actually, there are certain manners and rituals we follow in zazen, but you don’t have to memorize them beforehand. Even for Japanese people, it’s difficult to get everything right the first time! What matters is simply joining and experiencing it. You’ll naturally become familiar with the rituals as you attend more sessions.

Yes, absolutely.

When I first tried zazen, I struggled with this question myself. During a 30-minute session, my legs started to hurt badly halfway through. 

But the monk told me it’s completely fine to adjust your position if you can’t tolerate the pain. The most important thing is to stay seated and present, like a sturdy log in the backyard. 

A session usually lasts between 20 and 40 minutes. Some temples offer two sessions back-to-back, so the total time can exceed 60 minutes.

Personally, I like a 30-minute session best—20 minutes feels a bit short to really focus, while 40 minutes can be challenging to maintain concentration. Do I need more practice to sit longer? Probably.

In Soto Zen temples, we usually sit on a zafu, a round black cushion. If you want a clear demonstration, you can easily find videos on YouTube. Here are the key points:

- Cross both legs, or just one leg if that’s easier
- Place your left hand on your right palm, and lightly touch the thumbs together
- Keep your posture upright but relaxed

The main challenge is the legs. Crossing them can be difficult if you’re not used to it. If you have time, try sitting at home beforehand. You’ll gradually find a position and balance that feels natural. Once you discover that, zazen can become really enjoyable!

Not completely. In zazen, we usually keep the eyes half open.

If you close them fully, you may get sleepy. If you open them too much, your mind gets distracted by outside stimuli. Half-open is the balance point — awake but calm, not too inward, not too outward.

It’s a very “middle way” style — neither this nor that, but in between. It’s kind of like being awake in a dream.

A very imaginable question.
You’ve got two options: scratch it, or tolerate it. Either is fine.

My personal tip? Try making a fake little cough — and sneak in a natural scratch.

Of course—you might feel sleepy sometimes. Don’t worry, there’s a traditional system for this.

Have you ever seen a monk gently hit a meditator’s shoulder with a flat stick? That’s called a Kyōsaku. If you feel sleepy and would like to be “awakened,” you make a gassho (palms together) and bow while the monk walks by. If the monk notices you, they will lightly strike your shoulder.

Painful? It depends on the monk’s enthusiasm. Want a truly traditional experience? Give it a try!

Oh, so you didn’t get a hit by the monk? 

Please refer to Question No. 6 above. Thank you!

This is a hard-core problem. They taught me to focus on the sensation of breath and body. Feel the breathing in, breathing out, all through your nose. Notice your body—coldness or warmth on your skin, pressure under your legs, the texture under your hands.

But of course, our mind drifts. Thoughts start dancing around. Then I try to let them go. I don’t know if I’m doing it right, but sometimes I try to focus on sounds instead: a faint buzz from the air-conditioning, a distant car driving by, the intermittent thump of someone shoveling snow, raindrops hitting the roof… Somehow, paying attention to these environmental sounds makes my mind a bit more still. I've been trying!

Our thoughts are like butterflies. They drift here and there, and eventually, they fly away. So all you do is not follow them, not push them, not toy with them. All you do is just see them—take an objective perspective.

If that still feels tricky, let’s refer back to Question No.6. Remember, we have a great system.

That’s called Kinhin, or walking meditation. Some temples do it after zazen. Sitting meditation and walking meditation usually go together. Since it’s hard to keep sitting for over an hour, walking meditation is added between sessions.

You take just a small half-step with each breath in and out. At first, it may feel a little awkward, but soon you’ll find the rhythm. In fact, I’ve heard that a well-trained monk can turn any movement into meditation, simply by doing it with full awareness and presence.

It’s very simple.
Find the entrance, open the door, and say “hello.” There is no special ritual required.

In most temples, you are welcome to step inside and go to the sitting area. If you meet someone inside, gently put your palms together (gassho) and make a small bow (ojigi).

Yes. Not only in temples, but in many places in Japan, it’s customary to take off your shoes when you enter.

Most temples have shoe shelves or racks near the entrance. People will appreciate it if you place your shoes neatly there.

Here’s a simple guide:

/Light bow
Just make a small nod, with a gentle smile.

/Plain bow
Keep your arms at your sides, bend your upper body forward, and look toward the floor. In temples, people sometimes bring their palms together when doing this.

Feeling nervous? There’s no need to worry.
We appreciate the respect and intention behind your gesture.

This can feel like the most difficult part. Many temples provide sutra books written with hiragana, so if you can read hiragana, you can follow along.

But don’t worry. It’s perfectly fine to simply sit and listen as others recite the sutras.

If you’re interested, I’d recommend checking the meaning of some well-known sutras, such as the Heart Sutra or Fukanzazengi. You may find them very meaningful.

I understand the concern. Honestly, I still find myself in situations where I’m not sure what to do. So what should you do in those moments?

It’s simple. Just look around and follow what others are doing. Most of the time, that works perfectly well.

And if you realize you’ve made a mistake, that’s okay too. Think of it as a good opportunity to learn.

Another great question! Basically, you can wear any colors or patterns. Even short pants are fine.

That said, sometimes I’m not really sure about my own clothing choices. I usually go with something simple and monotone—black training pants and a dark blue long-sleeve shirt.

And sometimes, I consider wearing an orange fur vest with a little bird patch… and then I give up on the idea in the end.

Maybe I should just go with it someday.

As far as I know, there’s no strict rule against tattoos.

I’ve actually seen a foreign visitor with tattoos on his upper arm at a temple, and nobody seemed to mind.

Fundamentally, Buddhism keeps its gates open to almost everyone.
Tattoos? Okay.
Marathon pants? Okay.
Christian? Okay.
Someone from another planet?
…Well, probably okay.

Sure. Why not?
In fact, I think they really like questions.

Asking questions simply means you’re interested—and everyone feels good when someone shows genuine curiosity. Especially for foreign visitors, you may even be a bit of a special guest.

So don’t be shy. If something comes to mind, just ask.

It depends on the situation. If you join a short session, like a 30-minute zazen, it’s better to stay until the end. Leaving in the middle can be a little distracting for others.

However, for longer programs—those lasting over an hour and including several activities like zazen, yoga, or talks—it’s usually fine to leave during a break.

That said, try to give yourself enough time. You don’t want to rush through the experience and miss a good opportunity.

No need to worry at all.

At most temples, they will guide you to where you should sit and explain the basic manners and rules.

All you need to do is let them know it’s your first visit.

Zen requires a mind, not thoughts. When we use words, words generate thoughts—and thoughts stir the mind. By keeping silent, we calm the chatter and turn our attention inward.

Bodhidharma, the legendary founder of Zen Buddhism in China, taught:
- A special transmission outside the scriptures
- Not relying on words and letters

Let us set aside linguistic structures and immerse ourselves in the non-verbal domain.

Hair is seen as a symbol of distraction, so monks shave their heads as a symbolic practice. In some Buddhist sects in Japan, monks keep their usual hair, but in Zen temples, almost all monks have shaved heads.

I used to get a buzz cut when I was younger. Can you imagine how that feels? Honestly, it’s really comfortable. No more washing, drying, trimming, cutting, or dyeing hair—saving time, energy, and money. Life becomes simpler and easier!

There’s a story that the legendary founder of Zen in China, Bodhidharma, sat facing the wall of a cave for nine years. His followers inherited this style, and it became the standard in Soto Zen. There are also other traditions—like Rinzai Zen—where practitioners face each other during zazen.

Honestly, I love the wall. Technically speaking, the wall isn’t really the wall. The wall represents nothingness—but since we can’t actually sit and face “nothing,” we use the wall instead.

When I face the wall, it feels like leaving the everyday world behind, letting go of everything I think and feel. At some point, the border between me and the wall dissolves into something vague. I go toward the wall, and the wall comes toward me. And then… what happens? You’ll see.

They are not the same thing, but they may be deeply connected.

Minimalists try not to surround themselves with things — clothes, furniture, food, electronic devices. They keep a distance from physical possessions.

Zen practitioners, on the other hand, try to stay with the present moment — the breath moving inside the body, or the sound of rain tapping on the roof — without clinging to things, whether they are outside us or inside us.

Sometimes I feel like I would love to talk with people who practice minimalism. I think it would be a very interesting conversation.

Absolutely.
There’s a well-known Zen phrase in Japanese: 歩歩是道場 (Hoho kore dōjō). It means every step is a place of practice.

Walking down the street.
Standing at a bus stop.
Joining a meeting with a client.
Eating a meal at a small diner.

If you can stay with the present moment, any place can become a dōjō. That said, there’s still something special about practicing zazen at a temple.

The atmosphere.
The smell of incense.
The deep stillness.
…Ah.

Historically, tea culture was imported from China and flourished among the upper classes in Japan. Later, during the turbulent era of civil wars, Sen no Rikyū and other great practitioners transformed tea culture by deeply integrating Zen principles.

They made tea rooms smaller. They replaced gorgeous tools with simple ones. And they brought the practice out of elite circles and into everyday life.

I’ve had the chance to participate in a tea ceremony twice, and each time it felt very much like a form of Zen practice. There is even a place I know that offers tea ceremonies and also opens regularly for zazen practice.

If you’re curious, I’d be happy to share what it’s like.

Sōtō Zen and Rinzai Zen share the same roots, but their histories and atmospheres are quite different.

/Origins
Sōtō Zen: Introduced to Japan by Dōgen in the 13th century
Rinzai Zen: Introduced earlier by Eisai in the late 12th century

/Historical Background
Sōtō Zen: Spread mainly among rural communities and everyday people
Rinzai Zen: Closely associated with the samurai class and cultural elites

/Practice Style
Sōtō Zen: “Just sitting” (shikantaza), without aiming for a specific goal
Rinzai Zen: Uses koans and intense guidance to provoke awakening

/Atmosphere
Sōtō Zen: Calm, steady, and spacious
Rinzai Zen: Sharp, disciplined, and energetic

/Temples Today
Sōtō Zen: More temples, widely spread across Japan
Rinzai Zen: Fewer temples, often concentrated in historic cities like Kyoto

Neither is better than the other — they simply suit different people.

Let’s think about a toothbrush.
Does a toothbrush have value by itself? In Zen, we usually say no. It only has value when someone uses it. Without people, it’s just a strangely shaped piece of plastic.

In a similar way, what we call the “self” doesn’t have a fixed shape either. We are defined by our surroundings—our relationships, situations, and moments. When those change, the “self” changes too.

So “no-self” doesn’t mean you disappear. It simply means there is no solid, unchanging “me” inside. When you stop clinging to a fixed idea of who you are, and pay attention to what’s happening around you, the meaning of “no-self” begins to make sense.

That’s a very good point.

Zen was born within a religious context, but over time it spread into culture, daily life, and even philosophy. So in a way, it’s both religion and practice. Zen can be something you believe in—but it’s also something you do.

Think of curry. Curry is food, of course. But it’s also culture.

Actually, I’m curious—do you mean your own cat or a stray cat? 

Usually, temples don’t allow animals inside during meditation, but it can vary. I’d be happy to help check if there’s a cat-friendly temple available. Thank you for asking.

It’s a bit like asking, “What kind of people read books in a city library?” There’s a wide variety of people who come to zazen: men and women, young and old, highly experienced practitioners who have been meditating for 20+ years, and absolute beginners who started just a month ago. Singles, married, workers, retirees—you name it.

If there’s one thing in common, it seems everyone behaves subtly and politely. Am I subtle and polite? Hmm, I’m not sure—but I hope so.

Great question. You may — or you may not.

A legendary Japanese Zen monk, Dōgen, once said that enlightenment is not the purpose of zazen. Then what is?

Honestly, I’m still not sure. I just sit and practice zazen — for the sake of sitting.

Don’t worry. Stomachs growl. Mine certainly does. It’s completely fine. A small snack before you come can help, though.

Honestly, I’ve never thought about that before — that’s a great question.

A cat might actually be nice to have around the zendo. People often say that dogs are emotionally connected to humans, while cats simply exist — quietly becoming part of the landscape.

I’ve never seen cats or dogs in a temple before. But if you’re thinking of bringing yours, just check with us first.

Honestly, I kind of want to say yes—but it’s probably not quite true.
Sapporo is famous for great food and winter sports. Seafood, Genghis Khan (lamb BBQ), sushi, ramen, skiing, snowboarding—you name it.

Zen culture, on the other hand, tends to stay low-key. But if you look more closely, you’ll find many temples in the city, and quite a few of them offer meaningful Zen practices.

I’d really like to shine a light on these places. What they’re doing is genuinely interesting, and I believe it has generous value for people from all over the world.

I hope Zen continues to quietly bloom here in Sapporo.

Yes, they do. I’ve actually seen monks using smartphones.

One monk I know even developed an app for zazen practitioners. The app rings a bell to keep time and reads out sutras. Another monk uses generative AI to create images for lesson leaflets. And at some temples, you can even make a donation using your phone.

AI and digital tools are everywhere now—even in temples. At this rate, dogs and cats might start using those tools soon.

Hmm… I’ve never even thought about that.
I’ll ask them next time!

I’ve never been told not to bring a snack or two.
That said, I’ve never really seen anyone eating during a zazen session.

So if you really feel like bringing one, maybe keep it quietly at the bottom of your bag…and after that, it’s up to you.

Yes, they do.
A head priest once told us that monks also have thoughts during meditation—things that happened before, or things that are happening now. It’s very hard to think about absolutely nothing during zazen, and thoughts coming up is completely normal.

The problem isn’t that thoughts arise.
The problem is getting caught up in them.

So what should we do?

Let them go.
Let them drift, and watch them fade away.

The priest said:
“Whatever thoughts come up, just put them down here. That’s why you’re sitting here.”