The role as bell master as a doorway to deepening spiritual practice.

By Brother Nhất Hạo on April 6, 2026

This is because that is,

This is not because that is not.

The bell vibrates after a long sleepless night,

I wait for the flowers and leaves in the garden to manifest.

It is not yet light,

Yet in the heart of this deep night 

I know you are there….¹

 —Thích Nhất Hạnh

It was 3:55. Everything was still dark. I was standing in front of the bell, holding the bell inviter, a wooden hammer, with both hands. I put it between my chest and belly so that I could really feel my body breathing in and out. At 4 a.m., I lifted my hand, gently swinging the inviter. Dong, dong, dong. The first bell of the day had been invited in the monk’s residence for wake up.

Bell master was the first formal responsibility I received in the first two years of my monkhood in Thailand. A bell master is a person who is responsible for inviting everyone in the community to join the activities. Before taking on this role, I was able to lay in my bed for another ten minutes before the activities began, but now, I must be there before everyone else.

Becoming a monk is close to being reborn as a human. Not only do we have to let go of our names, relationships, and possessions, but we also start learning to do everything in a new and mindful way. In the first three years as a novice monk, the sangha (community) protects us by only giving straightforward services that don’t require much thinking or planning. Now, I am responsible for being the “clock” of the community, where I invite the bell for waking up, classes, mealtimes, bedtime and so on for a total of fifty-seven times per week.

Thursday is a special day. We call it the Day of Mindfulness. In the morning, we start with walking meditation to Thầy’s Hut (Thầy means teacher, as we affectionately call Thích Nhất Hạnh), followed by silent outdoor sitting meditation for twenty minutes. 

Today, when I arrived at Thầy’s Hut, the blooming lotus flowers caught my attention right away, and I sat comfortably on the grass where I could see them clearly. The flowers grew so tall that they were slightly higher than my head level. I kept my eyes half open as I started to follow my breathing in and out of my nostrils. The flowers were so bright. Yellow color from within reflecting vibrantly on the pink petals created this glowing hue in front of the green leaves.

Breathing in, I am a blooming lotus flower.
Breathing out, feeling the freshness, I smile.

Vividly seeing the flowers, I was able to fully enjoy my breathing and be one with everything. I didn’t need to imagine or think with my intellect. Everything was simply there.

A few moments later, I couldn’t help but realize that the solemn Khao Yai Mountain appeared in front of me from the dark, illuminated by the morning ray, chasing away the clouds in front of her. The beautiful mountain range, stable in her triangular shape. Solid yet alive with countless beings taking refuge in her ecosystem.

Breathing in, I’m firmly seated as the mountain.
Breathing out, I enjoy sitting in stillness.

Sitting close to the lotus pond, I saw water reflecting everything: the mud, the roots, the flowers, the stems, the sky, and many more.

Breathing in, my mind is as still as the water in the pond.
Breathing out, tranquil as a mirror, the mind reveals what is in the here and now, without any judgements.

As I began to feel some sleepiness, I opened my eyes fully and took a refreshing, deep breath to uplift my body and mind. Zooming out my vision, I extended my awareness and beheld the sky above and beyond me. Even the Khao Yai Mountain was embraced and contained in this immense space! In Chinese, we use the phrase 空间 (kōng jiān) for space. Kōng means emptiness, and jiān means room. Just as the sky embraces the mountain, the word reminds me that emptiness allows space or room to be possible. The second character 间 has two parts: 门(door) and 日(sun). Can you imagine a room so vast that even a sun can fit in it?

At this point, the breathing was effortless. I noticed my body was naturally functioning on its own. There was no action of breathing out as the lungs were just naturally releasing the air. As my chest was filling and releasing, I saw this wonderful exchange between the space inside and outside of my body. There, the boundary between the inside and outside dispersed.

Breathing in, I feel the immense space is inside and outside of me.
Breathing out, I am connected with the freedom of space through each mindful breath I take.

当一天和尚撞一天钟—Being a monk for a day, ring the bell for a day.

In Chinese, this saying reminds us to live fully in the present moment. Even if tomorrow, we leave our role, today we should still give our best. In the Plum Village tradition, the sounds of the bell are invitations for us to stop, rather than rushing us to the next activities. When we listen to the sound of the bell, we stop doing; we simply be, by coming back to our breathing. In the union of body and mind, we have arrived at our true home in the here and the now.

Now, quite literally, I have become the monk who invites the bell each day. Every task in the sangha is more than work to be done but a doorway to spiritual practice. Entering fully, we then can taste the essence of Zen.

Holding the bell inviter close to my body, I breathe in. Aware of my body breathing, I smile. Breathing out, I relax my body and recite the gatha silently:

Body, speech, and mind held in perfect oneness, 
I send my heart along with the sound of the bell.
May the hearers awaken from forgetfulness
and transcend the path of anxiety and sorrow.2

¹ Thích Nhất Hạnh, “Perception’s Embrace,” quoted in True Virtue: The Journey of an English Buddhist Nunby Sister Annabel Laity (Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press, 2019), 247.

² Thích Nhất Hạnh, Present Moment Wonderful Moment: Mindful Verses for Daily Living, 3rd ed. (Berkeley, CA: Parallax Press, 2022), 40.