



Japan's only meditation space

Reflect in a coffin
What is the experience?
- Enter a real coffin
- Close the lid and open the window
- Meditate quietly for 30 minutes while listening to music

Recommended for
- ◆ Those who want quiet time alone
- ◆ Those feeling a bit tired from busyness or relationships
- ◆ Those who want to calm their feelings
- ◆ Those at a turning point in life who want to organize their thoughts
- ◆ Those who want a completely new experience
- ◆ Those curious about entering a coffin
Plans
Starts on odd hours — first come, first served
①Relaxation Meditation(11:00〜)
Healing music
②Sutra Meditation(13:00〜)
A special time enveloped in chanting
③Singing Bowl Meditation(15:00〜)
Feel the resonance of the bowls
④Silent Meditation(17:00〜)
A quiet coffin experience without BGM
Starts on even hours (12:00 / 14:00 / 16:00 / 18:00)
Recommended for
- Those whose schedule doesn't match regular plan times
- Those who want to experience it alone or only with close friends
- Groups looking for a better per-person rate (e.g., ¥2,500/person for 4 guests)
Available Options
- All 4 programs (Relaxation, Sutra, Singing Bowl, Silent Meditation)
- ⑤Your own music (headphone jack or USB Type-C only, no Bluetooth)
Access
Landmark: Building with "Tonkou" (敦煌) Chinese restaurant on the 1st floor
〒169-0075 1-29-7 Takadanobaba, Shinjuku-ku, Tokyo
Sky Palace Building, 8F, Room 801
5 min walk from JR Takadanobaba Station (Waseda Exit)
2 min walk from JR Takadanobaba Station (Toyama Exit)
Closed: Mondays and Tuesdays
* Hours may change without notice — please check announcements before visiting
Q&A
Media
Visitor Testimonials
I was a little scared... I've never had the experience of getting into a coffin... While I was inside the coffin, I felt my own "death." Then, I began to see what I truly wanted to do. I believe that contemplating death leads to living a better life. I want to recommend getting into a coffin and thinking about your own death to everyone. In the face of the absolute existence of death, all trivial matters are blown away, and what you truly want to accomplish naturally becomes clear. The mortality rate is 100%. Everyone dies without exception. If you can find what is truly important in life, wouldn't that mean you've achieved half of life's purpose? When I lose my sense of purpose in life, when I become lazy, when I fall into despair, I want to get into the coffin again and again, to be aware of my own death, and to give myself a wake-up call.
When I tried to get into the coffin, I felt a slight sense of dissonance. Because I was voluntarily entering a box that, after death, others would place you into. The inside of the coffin felt more spacious than I had imagined (I'm 178 cm tall). Even with the lid closed, the lack of claustrophobia isn't just because of the open window above your face, but because you're free to think about whatever you want. That said, we tend to hold quite rigid views about "death," avoiding and abhorring things associated with it. This applies not only to places like cemeteries and crematoriums, but even to speaking about death itself. Certainly, death has frightening and sorrowful aspects, but life and death are two sides of the same coin and cannot truly be separated. Even if we cannot attain enlightenment or detachment regarding death, we can naturally incorporate death into our consciousness. I believe that by doing so, rather than avoiding death, we can live a better life. "Getting into a coffin (in)" is, in itself, a practice of bringing "death" into "life."
What does "living" mean to you?
At Kanoke-in, after the experience, guests who wish to participate are optionally given a shikishi card and asked to write a message on the theme "What does 'living' mean to you?" Here are the unfiltered words born from facing "death" inside a coffin.











