I was at the top of our narrow sloping driveway, sitting on my bike, after my father had just removed my training wheels. I was five, and my older brother was there too. “Ready?” my father said, and let go. Gravity took over, and I squeezed the handlebars as I went faster, quickly veering too far right until I crashed into the building next door. I lay there stunned, with my ego and my knee badly bruised.
“You didn’t hit the brake!” my brother scolded, and I felt stupid on top of everything else. I vowed not to try again any time soon.
That was one way to begin. Afraid and without proper preparation, I was focused solely on the outcome. I took the failure personally and gave up instead of persisting. It was a mistake I was to repeat.
There are, of course, better ways to approach something new.
A phrase that captures the more positive aspects of a fresh perspective is “beginner’s mind” (or Shoshin 初心), a concept in Zen Buddhism.
“It refers to having an attitude of openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions when studying a subject, even when studying at an advanced level, just as a beginner in that subject would.”
I had seen the phrase before, but it was only as I began learning to play the piano recently that I could appreciate the meaning
Playing with two hands
I approached learning the piano differently from learning to ride a bike. I was without fear of judgment and without expectation. In my second lesson this past week, my teacher showed me a version of “Ode to Joy” that required playing with two hands.
“Are you crazy?” I joked. “This is only the second lesson!”
In my head, the coordination required for playing with two hands was beyond me. But despite my trepidation at taking the next step, my teacher guided me and I got it after a few attempts. My playing was lacking grace and tempo, and was filled with mistakes, but I knew that practice would be my ally. I smiled with the fulfillment that comes with getting better at something.
Biking to work
The next morning, I practiced playing with two hands before work and could see more improvement. Alone in the apartment, I even applauded myself after a minor breakthrough.
I was experiencing the “openness, eagerness, and lack of preconceptions” of beginner’s mind.
It was while I was biking to work shortly after practice that I remembered the story of my first attempt to ride on two wheels. I also remembered the freedom I felt when I eventually did learn to ride. The feel of independence, the feel of the wind.
I pedaled slowly along the Hudson River. I paid attention to the breeze and the smell of the water, and to the shapes of the clouds. To the tourists strolling and consulting maps in different languages. I nodded good morning to the Statue of Liberty.
Beginner’s mind, I thought, doesn’t just apply to “studying a subject.” It can apply to each and every day.