Turn on, tune in, zone out: Hangang Space-out Competition celebrates mindfulness in a frantic world

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Turn on, tune in, zone out: Hangang Space-out Competition celebrates mindfulness in a frantic world

Published: 12 May. 2025, 16:36 Updated: 14 May. 2025, 18:30

CHO JUNG-WOO
[email protected]

Audio report: written by reporters, read by AI

People space out during the Hangang Space-out Competition at Jamsu Bridge in Seocho District, southern Seoul, on May 11. [PARK SANG-MOON]

[GIVE IT A GO]

Silence lingered as the playful shouts of children and scattered conversations faded into a quiet buzz. A breeze drifted across the Han River, lifting hair and brushing faces, but I stayed still, staring into the void, lips sealed, thoughts swirling.

Around 120 people sat near me, yet not a single one spoke on Jamsu Bridge, the lower deck of Banpo Bridge in southern Seoul’s Seocho District, on Sunday afternoon.

I, along with some 80 teams — spanning in ages and occupations — were the participants in this year's Hangang Space-out Competition, gathered to compete in a simple yet difficult challenge: do absolutely nothing for 90 minutes. Participants could enter alone or in teams of up to three.

Now in its 11th year, the event, hosted by the Seoul Metropolitan Government, was created to counter the notion that being idle is a waste of time. It began in 2014 at Seoul Plaza and has since grown into an international event, with editions in cities like Beijing and Tokyo. Since 2016, the competition has taken place along the Han River, offering a contrast to Korea’s widely known fast-paced culture and drawing international media coverage.

This year’s participants ranged from teenagers to people in their 60s. Families took part together, and some even traveled from Japan.

That's me... trying to space out. [PARK SANG-MOON]

As a journalist working around the clock, I doubted I could sit through the 90 minutes. Signing up wasn't an easy decision, as anyone who knows me would say I am the last person they would expect to join something like this — not because I don’t know how to zone out, but because I’m an introvert who dreads being the subject of a story rather than the one telling it.

Even so, as someone who routinely spaces out on subway rides, and occasionally at work, I decided to see what this competition was all about. Let's just say that's how much I love my job.

Before the zone out

With thousands of people applying every year, submitting my application also felt like a gamble. But I left it to fate. The form asked for basic personal information and a short explanation for applying. I wrote honestly: I’m an introverted journalist in my fourth year on the job, hoping to share how zoning out helps me recharge after work.

Five days later, my phone buzzed with a text: Congratulations! You’ve been selected to participate. Along with it came instructions on what to wear and bring, including items that might showcase my occupation. Apparently, I had been chosen from a pool of 4,500 applicants.

People space out during the Hangang Space-out Competition at Jamsu Bridge in Seocho District, southern Seoul, on May 11. [PARK SANG-MOON]

The big day

The moment I arrived at Banpo Hangang Park around 3:30 p.m., I knew I was underdressed.

Participants were easy to spot. One tall man, dressed in a navy blue Prince Charming outfit, was already giving an interview. Others appeared in clown outfits, animal costumes and punk rock attire. Some brought camping chairs and wooden blocks to get comfortable while zoning out. I was in my usual business casual attire.

Trying to stay composed, I lined up for registration. I was handed my participation number, No. 43, a certificate, color-coded cards for assistance requests and a wristband to monitor my heart rate.

But my “calm” demeanor was quickly revealed as a lie as I saw my heart pounding at 130 beats per minute (bpm). Most others hovered between 50 and 80.

A staffer checks this reporter's heartbeat during the Hangang Space-out Competition in Seocho District, southern Seoul, on May 11. [PARK SANG-MOON]

After checking in, we were asked to write our reason for participating on a large wall divided into sections, each marked with the number we were assigned. Passersby could vote by placing stickers on each number, and the top 10 in votes would be eligible to win. I wrote: “Spacing out is how I survive my fast-paced work life.”

The zone out

Guided to my yoga mat, I was relieved to be away from the edge, less visible to the stream of curious onlookers.

The rules were clear: No phones, no talking, no sleeping, no smiling, no eating (except water provided), no singing or dancing, no checking the time. We were also told what each color card meant: red for a massage, blue for water, yellow for a fan, black for other needs.

The event began in silence. Woopsyang, the contemporary performance artist who founded the competition, unfurled banners from the stage welcoming us and explaining that the participants were carefully selected to represent a cross-section of ages and professions.

“Please do your best to represent your age group and occupation,” one banner read.

This was my view during the Hangang Space-out Competition on May 11. [CHO JUNG-WOO]

After a short group stretching session, the 90-minute silence began around a quarter past four.

As someone who treasures quiet moments, I appreciated the wordless start. But the calm didn’t last. The event's M.C. soon began narrating the scene, interviewing passersby and commenting on participants.

Staffers walked among us, checking heart rates every 15 minutes and observing for rule-breakers.

The first 15 minutes were tough. My hands, usually glued to a phone, felt awkward. I realized I might need a digital detox.

To avoid boredom, I had come prepared with a mental list of song lyrics to think about. But I quickly discovered that zoning out requires a kind of focus. I kept reading and rereading the instruction paper in front of me, which surprisingly helped anchor me.

Some players began holding up colored cards for massages, water or to signal they were giving up. I chose not to raise mine, fearing a spike in my heart rate after seeing that 130 at the start.

Contestants write their reasons for participation ahead of the Hangang Space-out Competition near Jamsu Bridge in Seocho District, southern Seoul, on May 11. [CHO JUNG-WOO]

The sunny weather following rain made sitting on the bridge surprisingly pleasant. To my relief, my heartbeat remained between 60 and 90 bpm throughout.

About 40 minutes in, my back began to ache. I considered lying down, which was completely allowed, but the crowd nearby made me hesitant. After an hour, my right leg went numb. I shifted positions, but eventually returned to my initial cross-legged pose.

The whistle signaling the end of the zone-out session blew. Ironically, my mind felt clearer just as the whistle blew. My legs and back ached. Who would've thought that doing nothing could be this exhausting? Despite my physical discomfort, my heart rate remained steady during the final two measurements, hovering around 80 bpm.

Only three contestants gave up during the competition.

Winners were selected from the top 10 vote-getters, based on who had the most stable heart rate spectrum. First place went to a three-member punk rock band Pogo Attack, who received a trophy and a certificate.

Rock band Pogo Attack celebrates after winning the Hangang Space-out Competition at Jamsu Bridge in Seocho District, southern Seoul, on May 11. [PARK SANG-MOON]

Sean Kelly, a 35-year-old who works for the U.S. Embassy in Seoul, ranked among the top 10 contestants.

“I want to learn to see if I can keep a quieter mind — because my mind is so busy,” he told me ahead of the 90-minute session, admitting that he rarely zones out in his daily life.

Through it all, I realized this wasn’t just about doing nothing, but about embodying the idea of doing nothing. Those who stood out did so with flair, emotion or clever presentation.

While I appreciated the rare experience, the weather and watching families and friends enjoy the event, I came away feeling that the best kind of zoning out is done alone, in your own space.

BY CHO JUNG-WOO [[email protected]]