Beginner’s Mind

Suzuki

Beginner’s Mind is an oft-discussed pop topic in Zen. It’s catchy and mysterious. I even have a book about it coming out soon! But what’s beneath the surface? To explore what Beginner’s Mind really means, let’s start by establishing the foundation of the concept by Zen master Shunryu Suzuki:

“In the beginner’s mind
there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s
there are few. ”

People say that practicing Zen is difficult, but there is a misunderstanding as to why. It is not difficult because it is hard to sit in the cross-legged position, or to attain enlightenment. It is difficult because it is hard to keep our mind pure and our practice pure in its fundamental sense.

In Japan we have the phrase shoshin, which means “beginner’s mind.” The goal of practice is always to keep our beginner’s mind.

For a while you will keep your beginner’s mind, but if you continue to practice one, two, three years or more, although you may improve some, you are liable to lose the limitless meaning of original mind.

For Zen students the most important thing is not to be dualistic. Our “original mind” includes everything within itself. It is always rich and sufficient within itself. You should not lose your self-sufficient state of mind. This does not mean a closed mind, but actually an empty mind and a ready mind. If your mind is empty, it is always ready for anything; it is open to everything. In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities; in the expert’s mind there are few.

Ok— there are the fundamentals, in Zen-speak, from a classic master.  Next, let’s remember that Zen literally means “meditation” in Japanese; you don’t have to be a Buddhist to be a student of Zen. If you meditate, you’re a student of Zen. So, these words apply not just to Zen practice, but to everything (because Zen practice is about everything). It’s all-encompassing.

I’ve written before about how meditation changes our relationship to time. It allows us to see time for what it is, to understand how our minds and circumstances are never static. They’re always changing. Observing this change during meditation allows us to understand it better, which has a profound impact on our thoughts and decisions.

Time is responsible for growth and progress, but it also brings decay and ruination. It isn’t one-sided. Life doesn’t follow a locked upward slope towards infinite growth, happiness, wealth and knowledge. The stock market doesn’t keep soaring into the heavens. There are always corrections. Trees grow over many years, reach maturity, and eventually rot and fall. The same happens to us. Time works in mysterious ways. What are the practical implications here?

Trying to work through what exactly beginner’s mind means to you is the first step. For me, it’s the purity of open-mindedness. Over time, repeated experiences become routines, and we start to narrow our field of vision. With this narrowing comes a heightened acuity but also a neglect of periphery. We stop noticing details we used to pick up on. As we zero-in on our skills, goals, values and thoughts in this way, we both gain something and lose something at the same time. Beginner’s Mind unlocks the gifts of time without expediting its inevitable move towards decay.

The value of reflection is keeping what we gain from the passage of time while also minimizing our losses. It’s a hedge against our own lesser nature. The most useful way to do this, for me, is to meditate and ask myself lots of questions. When we start thinking more broadly about what we do, why we do it, and how we do it, we can recognize how time has served us well, and how it’s hindered us. We can let go of harmful thought patterns, bitterness, mindlessness and stubborn certitude.

To approach any activity with a beginner’s mind is to remain open and curious. We remember what we don’t know, instead of focusing on stroking the ego. We become radically humble and honest with ourselves about what we’re doing. We find joy in simply doing and learning rather than trying to prove something to the world. We let time unfold naturally rather than forcing our expectations upon it. And when we do this, a new sort of excellence emerges, one rooted in joy rather than zeal.

Read my follow-up worksheet for this post here.