Monasteries are sanctuaries of simplicity, clarity, and contemplative presence. Here, architecture is not an object but a practice—a spatial meditation shaped by light, landscape, and silence.

Guided by the Zen principle of Ma (間)—the pause, the space between—we designed the monastery to breathe. Courtyards open like moments of reflection; thresholds dissolve between inside and outside, allowing wind, light, and sound to pass unfiltered. Every surface, material, and proportion is attuned to impermanence and awareness. Cedar, stone, and clay are left unadorned, aging gracefully with the seasons.

This is a place of right livelihood and right intention—where lights follow function, and function follows mindfulness. Paths curve not to impress but to slow the pace; gardens are arranged not for spectacle but for stillness. Practices live, walk, and sit here not as inhabitants of a building but as participants in a shared ritual of attentiveness.