From Classroom to Mountain Forest, Finding Stillness Again: Educators' Visit to Kongshan Monastery

On July 6, 2026, 52 educators from Taiwan visited Kongshan Monastery in New York. The group included elementary, middle, and high school teachers who had come to the United States during the summer break for a study tour. After completing a three-day mindfulness program, they made their way to this monastery nestled in the mountain forests of the Hudson Valley.

The day of the visit came just after heavy rain.

Two days of downpours had left parts of Kongshan Monastery still without electricity or running water — but without the hum of appliances or the noise of cars and crowds, the monastery felt even more deeply quiet than usual. The fresh air after the rain, the luminous green of the forest, geese wandering unhurried across the grounds, and the calm surface of Conch Lake all conspired to slow the teachers' steps the moment they arrived.

One teacher wrote:

"The moment I stepped into Kongshan Monastery, I slowed down without even thinking about it, and found myself settling into a stillness I hadn't felt in a long time. The rain had passed, the sky had brightened, the geese had come — and my heart opened. It felt like walking into the world of that ancient line: 'After the fresh rain in the empty mountains.'"

That sense of stillness became one of the most lasting impressions of the day.

During the visit, a monastic guided the group into the Redwood Hall Dharma Hall, introducing the founding story of Kongshan Monastery and the precious original Tibetan texts of the Five Great Treatises preserved there. For many of the teachers, it was the first time they had ever seen these volumes in person — and the first time they had understood that this land holds something beyond its natural beauty: a vision for carrying the Dharma forward and nurturing those who walk the path of practice.

One participant shared:

"When I saw the volumes of the Five Great Treatises, something stirred in me — a genuine wish to study them properly. I hope that someday I can sit here and learn."

Beyond the Dharma Hall tour, the visit also included writing prayer wishes, an incense offering experience, a stroll along the lakeshore, and photographs with the century-old white pine — all of which gave the day a texture of warmth and gentle connection.

Several teachers asked for extra prayer wish cards to bring back to Taiwan for family and friends. Others lingered long at the edge of Conch Lake, reluctant to leave.

Among the reflections shared afterward, one thing moved almost everyone — and it had to do with what had happened before the group arrived.

The monastery had just come through the storm. In the days prior, the monastics had worked continuously to repair the roads and clear the grounds, so that their visitors could arrive safely and comfortably. When the teachers learned of these preparations, it deepened their sense of what they had experienced: that the dignity and peace of the monastery rests on the quiet, steady care of the people who tend it.

One teacher wrote:

"There are so few monastics here, and yet they maintain such a vast property with such attentiveness — welcoming guests who have come from so far away. In every corner, you can feel how much care and warmth has gone into it."

Another said:

"Seeing the monastics guard this land — and hold space for the wishes of teachers like us — fills me with genuine admiration."

The visit lasted just over two hours, and yet it left many people wanting more.

"I hope to come back." "The time was too short." "I wish we could have stayed longer." These were the sentiments that appeared most often in the reflections that followed. Some hoped to return and see Kongshan across the different seasons. Others spoke of a wish to one day stay here for an extended period — to go deeper into the experience of nature and the Dharma illuminating one another.

At the end of the visit, the monastics stood on the grass and waved goodbye. Their red robes against the rain-washed green of the lawn became the image that stayed with many teachers long after the day was done. As the coach slowly pulled away, hands continued to wave from every window — a warm and unhurried farewell.

Education is not only the transmission of knowledge. It is the process by which one life touches and shapes another.

When educators have the opportunity to step away from the busyness of the classroom — to spend time in a place that restores the body and settles the mind — and then return to their schools carrying that steadiness within them, perhaps something of that stillness will quietly accompany more children as they grow.

As one teacher wrote:

"Coming to Kongshan Monastery, the noise of the world slowly fell away. I will come back."