Sometimes, when people are lost, they return to a text or an idea to recalibrate the heart. For David Harbour, it’s a guy. This guy was a friend from college, a fellow fan of Samuel Beckett, who later became a Buddhist monk under the teachings of Thích Nhất Hạnh, the author and peace activist known as the “father of mindfulness”. So when Harbour went through a tough period at 30, he travelled out to his guy’s monastery in Escondido, California, to search for an answer and hang with the monks and the nuns. They meditated, they performed tea ceremonies, they took walks in the mountains. But mostly, they just talked. “You just talk about life,” says Harbour. “You drink your tea, taste your tea, breathe, realise you're alive in the present moment. And, you know, play volleyball or ping-pong with the monks. God, they’re fucking good volleyball players, too.” He adds, wide-eyed, as if he’s still not over it: “Those fucking nuns are brutal.”

Harbour found it helpful – and still does. Every couple of years, he makes his way out to the monastery to talk about whatever he’s going through. He hasn’t been in a while, though: things have been busy. There’s the release of Thunderbolts next month – the second appearance of Harbour’s Alexei Shostakov/Red Guardian in the MCU – in a story about antiheroes and redemption. (He wants to take his monk to the premiere in LA, but monks can be tricky to pin down). There’s Stranger Things – the 2016 word-of-mouth hit Netflix show that changed Harbour’s life – coming to an end with its fifth and final season, which took a full year to film. There’s also his personal life, which has become an intense interest of the tabloids with the end of his relationship with pop star Lily Allen. “Oh boy,” he says, looking at me warily across the table when I bring it up. He orders another black coffee.

From the outside, this looks like a period of jarring change. But for a guy who has become famous for roles in which he is punching people in the face, Harbour is unexpectedly zen about most of it – or at least he’s trying to be. For him, processing this is all part of an ongoing, spiritual quest that began long ago. A conscious, attempted acceptance. Some kind of surrender.

Read more at British GQ.