The story of a gracefully aged temple, told by Choi Ye-seon, an art columnist who explores art and architecture.

When I embark on my next journey in life, this is where I go!
From Songgwangsa Temple in Jogyesan Mountain to Gilsangsa Temple in Samgak Mountain???
17 Quiet Mountain Temples to Visit When Life Feels Chaotic and Noisy

Art columnist Choi Ye-seon, who has long explored the diverse landscapes of modern time and space and art, heads to a place known as a place that encompasses history, architecture, ancient art, and tea—all of it.
The author, who had climbed numerous temples, was moved by the refreshing forest, the sound of the wind, and the sound of water, and was amazed by the grandeur of the Buddhist scriptures and paintings that had stood there for a long time, capturing the lingering passage of time, and soon came to a realization.
The reason why the temple is so beautiful is not only because of the deep aesthetic sense and philosophy of the Buddhist world.
It is because of the earnest prayers and good hearts of those who have climbed this place for hundreds and thousands of years.


This book contains thoughtful stories discovered through a wide and deep pilgrimage to seventeen temples that have aged gracefully, embracing the passage of time and its stories.
The unique stories of the Buddha statues enshrined in the main hall, the unique meanings contained in the shape of the Buddha's hand, the stone pagoda that remains in place even after the temple has collapsed, allowing us to trace its long history, the Buddhist painting that embraces earnest prayers and leads us into a world of grandeur??? Above all, the beautiful hearts of those who climbed the temple, making it even more complete.


As you read the stories of an art columnist who has been writing about the layers of time that have continued from the past, seemingly trivial but deeply touching the heart the more you ponder them, you will find yourself slowing down and listening.
Before you know it, you will find yourself staring into your inner self.
In this way, you will shake off your worries and eventually find yourself examining and understanding your own heart.

There were many people walking like me on the way up to the temple.
There were many people at Mihwangsa Temple to see the sunset, and many children at Haeinsa Temple to see the Tripitaka Koreana.
On the way to Unbuam, there were many young people enjoying the view, and there were many professional photographers who came out to take pictures of Gilsangsa Temple in Chopil.
And even in that gap, there were people who were careful about their conduct and walked around the temple and prayed.
The temple's inclusiveness and good energy came from the hearts of the people passing by.
The true beauty and stories of the temple began in its heart.
--- p.6

As Buddhism, which emphasizes Zen meditation, spread widely, temples moved from the city center to the mountains, and they had no choice but to move away from begging.
Sowing seeds, growing food, preparing food, and preparing a meal became not just a means of relieving hunger, but a part of one's practice.
Since a day's work and a day's offering were considered part of a practice, the bowl, which was a tool for making offerings, was also treated as a precious object that spoke of the practitioner's life.
When the master passed away, Balwoo was passed down to his disciples, which meant that they were carrying on the master's will.
--- pp.46~48

On the way down the stream, I saw a pagoda standing in front of the temple gate.
On the top it says 'What is this?'
It felt like the monk's stern scolding, and I felt a chill run down my spine.
'What is this?' is the question, 'What is this?' or 'Who am I?'
It is the ultimate question that all humans carry with them as they live.
Who am I, how should I live?
--- p.53

When I think of mountain temples, Haeinsa Temple comes to mind first, and the reason for that is also its architecture.
As you walk along the Garam structure, which has four spaces arranged on a slope with steps, you can feel your emotions being heightened as your body rises.
The overwhelming scale and simplicity of the Janggyeong Panjeon, perched atop the highest peak, possess an inexplicable power and beauty.
In a temple, the doors and stairs are as important as the Buddhist temple itself.
Doors and stairs are an architectural language that establishes the hierarchy of space.
Haeinsa Temple, situated on a high slope, has stairs and doors that further dramatically express this feeling.
As you climb the slope and pass through the door, you will reach the next level of the Buddhist temple.
--- p.58

We consider the stone pagodas of Silla, the stone Buddhas of Unified Silla, and the Buddhist statues and paintings of Goryeo to be the pinnacle of Buddhist art.
However, even during the Joseon Dynasty, when religious influence was poor, there was a flow of Buddhist art.
The Buddha of Joseon does not have a cold, rational face that looks far away toward an ideal world like the main Buddha of Seokguram Grotto, but rather a human face, a face full of affection.
The Buddha, who should have been sitting upright and showing an example of Zen meditation, had his back hunched over and developed a severe turtle neck.
If you sit in front of the Buddha altar, you will understand why the Buddha sits in a hunched posture.
This is so that when Buddhists look up, they can see the human face of the Buddha.
The Buddha of Joseon refuses to reach the world of enlightenment alone, but instead willingly sympathizes with and listens to the wishes and hopes of ordinary people.
--- p.116

When we realize how deeply the place where we stand embraces the past, the layers of time that have continued from the past become even more valuable.
The combination of the things accumulated by humans and the scenery of mountains and rivers that has not changed much since ancient times creates a temple, a space for practice and prayer.
At that time, beauty, love and peace are born together.
--- p.282

The word 'bhikkhu', which refers to a monk, means a beggar.
It is too humble a name for someone who is on the verge of reaching the end of his own practice.
But that too is the simplest directive to accept yourself.
The path to the highest being with the lowest name is the path of utter solitude.
But on that road, there are each people who are alone.
People who meet on the road and walk together toward the Way are called 'Doban (道伴)'.
Doban is a being that shares and adds, a being that goes all the way together.
There is a stepping stone so that we can walk without falling down.
We are each towers living our lives with the same questions.

--- p.353