Chan tradition is often described as “direct pointing to the mind,” yet within that directness there is a very concrete discipline of practice. At its heart stands seated meditation, zuòchán, sometimes spoken of as “just sitting,” where posture, breath, and awareness are gathered into a simple, upright presence. This seated practice may be accompanied by the investigation of a huàtóu, the “critical phrase” of a gong’an, such as “Who is reciting the Buddha’s name?” or “What is my original face?” Through this, conceptual thinking is gently but firmly worn down, allowing insight into mind-nature and non-duality. Periods of sitting are often interwoven with walking meditation, maintaining continuity of mindfulness as the body moves.

Alongside meditation, Chan employs gong’an and huàtóu practice as deliberate methods for cutting through habitual patterns of thought. Paradoxical stories, questions, or brief phrases are not puzzles to be solved intellectually, but catalysts that expose the limits of discursive reasoning. These are traditionally explored in the context of a living relationship with a teacher, through private interviews that test understanding and refine the practitioner’s direction. Public Dharma talks, too, function as part of this training, sometimes using quotations, stories, or abrupt gestures and shouts to unsettle fixed views. In this way, even spoken teachings are treated as “skillful means,” not as doctrines to cling to.

The life of a Chan community is structured by a disciplined daily rhythm that turns the whole day into a field of practice. Monastic schedules typically weave together early morning and evening meditation, chanting, study, work, and rest, with walking meditation between sitting periods. Intensive retreats, often lasting a week or more, deepen this pattern into many hours of silence, sitting, and walking, with simple meals and frequent teacher interviews. Ceremonial meals, taken in silence and according to specific protocols, further train attention and gratitude. Such forms are not regarded as mere formalities, but as vehicles for embodying the teaching in every gesture.

Ritual and devotion also have a place in Chan, though always subordinated to the aim of awakening. Chanting of sutras such as the Heart Sutra and Diamond Sutra, as well as mantras and dhāraṇīs, is used to steady the mind and align it with the path. Prostrations before Buddha images and teachers, together with repentance ceremonies, express humility, acknowledge karmic responsibility, and renew resolve. Taking refuge in the Three Jewels, receiving precepts, and participating in ordination or memorial services are treated as opportunities to deepen vow and insight. Offerings of incense, flowers, lamps, and food are likewise understood as concrete expressions of practice.

A distinctive feature of Chan is the insistence that meditation does not end when one rises from the cushion. Work practice—farming, cooking, cleaning, and other manual tasks—is approached as continuous meditation, an enactment of the saying, “A day without work is a day without food.” In this spirit, even something as simple as preparing tea or performing community service becomes a site of awakening, when carried out with undivided attention. The various forms—meditation, chanting, ritual, work, interviews—are all regarded as provisional means, valuable only insofar as they reveal the mind’s original clarity.