Hubris

Beginner’s Mind: Not Just for Beginners

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My Aikido training is a rare gift: in a busy life, it is a continuing stream of moments given over to a straightforward focus on learning about myself and how I act in the world; moments when all the layers of coarse and frenetic daily life are sifted out to provide rare and clear glimpses of my truer being.” Jerry Zimmerman

Squibs and Blurbs

By Jerry Zimmerman

Zimmerman art

Jerry Zimmerman

TEANECK New Jersey—(Weekly Hubris)—8/5/2013—In Aikido, the Japanese self-defense art that I teach and practice, as in many martial arts, students are always admonished to keep ‘beginner’s mind.’ But, of course, the question then becomes, “What is ‘beginner’s mind’”? This concept is often described as meaning that one should always try to learn with an open mind, without being too distracted by failure or success, especially when one starts something brand new and has so much to learn. I’ve also heard this idea compared to being a child, being in the moment, with little connection to past or future ideas about what you are doing.

The phrase ‘beginner’s mind’ is a bit misleading. In most learning situations, the mind is the activator, the leader of the whole process involved in becoming familiar with and adept at a new activity or skill; and we use our minds to think about what is going on, to memorize the facts and patterns we need, to organize all the new information coming in, and to put all this information—it is to be hoped—to good use.

However, in becoming familiar with a “body art,” such as Aikido, thinking is only the first step. The body itself becomes the medium through which all this information is expressed. The mind is too slow to move in the intuitive and primal ways necessary for a self-defense art. In a debate, a quick intelligence is one’s best tool but, in a physical altercation, the body must move faster than thought and, in fact, even before thought. These moments of super-quick action are actually the result of your brain’s first training your body and then your body’s taking over.

While some people are blessed with the ability to learn body movement from just seeing it, in a true budo (the discipline of perfecting oneself through the study of the arts of war), the mind is also essential for understanding the deep intent of the art, initiating the learning process, and giving the student direction and goals.

At root, the true meaning of Aikido training goes beyond the mind and the body, and is meant to create a new medium through which the soul can grow and expand. This is the essence of the art—the transformation of the student; making his or her life richer and more expansive; resulting in the creation of a real man or a real woman.

‘Beginner’s mind’ and ‘beginner’s body’ join forces to create ‘beginner’s soul.’

To me, this means growing up, becoming an adult, learning to understand yourself and the world around you. Aikido classes give you the chance to practice forming your more ideal self in a controlled and safe environment—you are not simply learning how to stop someone from harming you. In class, you can feel yourself dealing with fear, mistakes, confusion, anger, egotism, satisfaction, pleasure, and even joy. All this in a simple, beautiful room, with two people dressed in plain white clothing and holding no equipment, facing one another, taking turns attacking each other!

This is an amazing petri dish for discovering your true being.

My Aikido training is a rare gift: in a busy life, it is a continuing stream of moments given over to a straightforward focus on learning about myself and how I act in the world; moments when all the layers of coarse and frenetic daily life are sifted out to provide rare and clear glimpses of my truer being.

Martial arts training is often physically, mentally, and emotionally demanding. Yet it offers rewards unimaginable on the day you first step onto the mat. You will learn to defend yourself; you will learn how to keep healthy and fit; you will learn how to focus your mind. But, beyond all this, you will have a chance to see something real about yourself. And, having the slightest glimpse of your essence is the most valuable of experiences, for it provides the chance for improvement; and, without that chance, why are you here?

In life, no matter whether you are on the mat, or in the office, or at the store, or lying on the beach, the search for your soul, that desire to see truth and learn from it . . . this is the burning ember that must be cherished and stoked and guarded as though your life depended on it.

Because it does.

Note: This column, with its original art by the author, originally ran on Weekly Hubris on June 28, 2010. All of Jerry Zimmerman’s Weekly Hubris columns may be found at https://weeklyhubris.com/author/jzimmerman/.

Jerry Zimmerman was born and bred in Pennsylvania, artified and expanded at the Syracuse School of Art, citified and globalized in New York City . . . and is now mesmerized and budo-ized in lovely Teaneck, New Jersey. In love with art and artists, color, line, form, fun, and Dada, Jerry is a looong-time freelance illustrator, an art teacher in New York’s finest art schools, and a full-time Aikido Sensei in his own martial arts school. With his feet probably and it-is-to-be-hoped on the ground, and his head possibly and oft-times in the wind, he is amused by the images he finds floating through his mind and hands. (Author Head Shot Augment: René Laanen.)

2 Comments

  • Anita Sullivan

    Jerry, this is wonderful (I missed it the first time). I love the idea that the body trains the mind, and that the mind is “too slow. . .” This, to me, also describes much about how poetry works. It’s taken me a long time to learn that, and your discussion is so very clear, thank you!