Shoshin: Beginner's Mind

First, I apologize for my absence recently. It's been a whirlwind of two months, of summer's close, full of traveling to see family, a vacation and many, many sleepless nights and zombie days of blissful new parenthood. Also although I thought about blogging, it felt difficult considering I hadn't been on the mat. How could I write about training when days and then weeks would pass and I'd simply WISH I had trained? Although we were away, I found myself doing basic movements at the beach, or while I was cooking dinner, hell even when I had my little guy ridin' in the baby bjorn. (what my window-peering neighbors must think..) When we were away I had some leisure reading time and found myself engrossed in a book about Buddhism for mothers of young children. One of the chapters really "got me" where the author discussed a beginner's mind. The concept of Beginner's Mind, or Shoshin, comes up repeatedly with aikido training. The importance of having an open, empty mind cannot be emphasized enough.

As a new parent, I get firsthand view of a brand new mind. Every day my son sees something for the very first time. I get to watch his eyes in wonderment, watch his developing mind process this new thing. And I've come to realize, I can learn alot from my 19 week old child. Which lead me to some more pondering of the importance of shoshin...

Basically the Beginner's Mind takes a few concepts into account. Come to each new experience as if for the first time rather than with old prejudices. Similar to a toddler's point of view by default because they are a beginner at life. Young children challenge us to take a look at familiar objects and situations as though we had never seen them before. As we often hear repeated by a child, "what is this?" can also serve as a tool for cultivating a beginner's mind point of view.

The book reminded me of an old Zen tale:
A great scholar visited a famous zen master. While the master served tea, the scholar talked about zen. The master poured the visitor's cup to the brim, but rather than stopping, continued to pour. The scholar watched the overflowing cup until he could no longer keep silent. "it's overflowing! No more can go in!" the scholar cried. "You are like this cup. How can I show you zen unless you first empty your cup?" the master replied.

Wisdom is more about questions than answers, openness than certainty, about mystery and wondering rather than knowing. Wisdom is an acknowledgement of not knowing. By such an acknowledgement, you are opening your mind to each situation, each learning experience, in order to grow. Part of emptying our cup is a willingness to unlearn what we have learned.

Off the mat, a beginner's mind not only provides an opportunity for wisdom and growth, but also serves as a way of taking the mundane experiences in life and turning them into the miraculous. It's a way of putting on new glasses, walking in a new pair of shoes, taking a seat on a different side of the room in order to watch things unfold all around you from a different angle. Seeing a specific type of tree or flower, watching the sun set, smelling the burning leaves in the distance-tell yourself it's the first time. What do you see? Smell? Feel?

On the mat, if one approaches learning a technique with an open mind, as if they have never seen it before, the possibilities are endless for growth. Potential is not stifled when the aikidoka acknowledges not knowing. The mind closes like a door on a hinge, a bit more with each level of certainty, and opens with each little bit of questioning. We allow ourselves to grow, to reach towards our potential, by adopting this mindset.

The first step when bowing onto the mat is to pour a little bit out of our cups. I challenge you to do so next time you train. I bet you'll see you've opened up endless possibilities for yourself.