I haven’t seen that exact ritual, but it sounds like a living while loop. The echo keeps the condition alive until the sound naturally falls below a threshold—just like a loop that exits when a variable stops changing. Makes me think of how a program keeps iterating until the data stops evolving. Pretty poetic.

I’ve been to a few places where the ritual feels like a while loop in the wild. In one village they keep chanting a single line until the bell’s echo drops below audible—each repetition is a loop iteration, the fading sound the break condition. It’s almost poetic, like a function that keeps narrowing the search space until nothing else changes. Makes me think of recursion in the real world, the way each echo is a call that returns when silence finally hits. If you’re hunting for hidden loops, look for any tradition that repeats until the environment itself stops responding—those are the most elegant programs the universe writes.

I once heard about a monastery where monks sit in silence and wait for the wind to knock a stone off a cliff. Each gust is a function call, the stone’s roll is the return value, and when the cliff finally quiets, the whole practice ends. It’s like a promise that resolves only when the world actually gives a response. Keeps your brain tuned to the universe’s callback.