Clear As Mud
After practice the other day, I had a chat Takeguchi Sensei. We both marvel at how easy it can be for a total beginner do a technique beautifully simply by following a set of directions, whereas their sempais (students senior to them) may struggle really hard, but get nowhere close. "That's the beginner's mind." Sensei says. "Beginners have no preconceptions and they have no habits of any sort. They just do what they are told -- as simple as that. The difficult part is not external. It is internal." Sensei smiles as he points at his head.
"But, Sensei, don't we all start as beginners? What happened to our minds after we start practicing? Shouldn't practice help us get better? How do we lose our beginner's mind and end up being all convoluted inside? What is going on during practice?" In his usual zen-ish way, Takeguchi Sensei scratches his eyebrow, smiles and walks away.
The day after, I shared this conversation with my fellow Aikido students -- one rather new student, one 4th kyu, and a shodan. We put forward our "theories" on this phenomenon. Here, let me try to summarize what we concluded, plus a little bit of my afterthoughts.
It is true that a beginner comes with no preconceptions or habits. His lack of experience makes it easier for him to not mix anything in with the directions given to him -- because he has nothing to add to it . . . yet. With practice, he starts developing notions and ideas. It is like adding dirt to the clean water in his head: the clarity he once had becomes mirkier and mirkier. The harder he struggles, the more vigorously he is stirring up the muddy water. The mud just keeps getting thicker and thicker, and it becomes more and more difficult to see through it.
Aikido is an exercise of mindfulness. Mindfulness is not about vigorously stirring the water. Instead, it is more about how to keep the water clear even though it is being stirred. A seasoned Aikido student will eventually see light through the water as the dirt settles. This new sense of clarity is very different from the "beginner's mind" clarity because this is a clarity from within. It is a clarity that originates from a calm inner self, and it is long lasting.
This reminds me of the words of encouragement from Endo Sensei at a seminar: We all start from being a rock. Yet, if we keep polishing ourselves, we can become shiny like a diamond. A sword is made of steel. After having endured numerous firing and endless strikes, this piece of steel becomes very strong. It is no longer the same piece of metal. It has become a sword.
Aikido practice is a process. During this process, we refine and polish ourselves. If we are willing to stay focused and be mindful, you and I can all become a beautiful sword with an inner diamond that shines brightly.
Thank you, my dear Wednesday Aikido group, for sharing with me. You have enriched my life.
"But, Sensei, don't we all start as beginners? What happened to our minds after we start practicing? Shouldn't practice help us get better? How do we lose our beginner's mind and end up being all convoluted inside? What is going on during practice?" In his usual zen-ish way, Takeguchi Sensei scratches his eyebrow, smiles and walks away.
The day after, I shared this conversation with my fellow Aikido students -- one rather new student, one 4th kyu, and a shodan. We put forward our "theories" on this phenomenon. Here, let me try to summarize what we concluded, plus a little bit of my afterthoughts.
It is true that a beginner comes with no preconceptions or habits. His lack of experience makes it easier for him to not mix anything in with the directions given to him -- because he has nothing to add to it . . . yet. With practice, he starts developing notions and ideas. It is like adding dirt to the clean water in his head: the clarity he once had becomes mirkier and mirkier. The harder he struggles, the more vigorously he is stirring up the muddy water. The mud just keeps getting thicker and thicker, and it becomes more and more difficult to see through it.
Aikido is an exercise of mindfulness. Mindfulness is not about vigorously stirring the water. Instead, it is more about how to keep the water clear even though it is being stirred. A seasoned Aikido student will eventually see light through the water as the dirt settles. This new sense of clarity is very different from the "beginner's mind" clarity because this is a clarity from within. It is a clarity that originates from a calm inner self, and it is long lasting.
This reminds me of the words of encouragement from Endo Sensei at a seminar: We all start from being a rock. Yet, if we keep polishing ourselves, we can become shiny like a diamond. A sword is made of steel. After having endured numerous firing and endless strikes, this piece of steel becomes very strong. It is no longer the same piece of metal. It has become a sword.
Aikido practice is a process. During this process, we refine and polish ourselves. If we are willing to stay focused and be mindful, you and I can all become a beautiful sword with an inner diamond that shines brightly.
Thank you, my dear Wednesday Aikido group, for sharing with me. You have enriched my life.
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