Beginner's Mind and Finding Calm
why stories and walking my dog save me daily
Sitting in the guest house of the Green Gulch Zen Center in Marin, north of San Francisco, i recognized the book Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind by Shunryu Suzuki sitting on a side table. In the 90s I was lucky to be able to visit some friends in Northern California a couple of times. This gave me the opportunity to spend some time at the Green Gulch Zen Center. When I wasn’t walking the trails I was sitting in the austere and beautiful guest room writing my wee fingers to the bone.
Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind is a well-known book of transcribed lectures given by Suzuki in the 1960s. Sitting in the serene setting of the Lindisfarne Guest House, i read the book over the few days of one of my visits. Such was the power of the context that it felt like Suzuki was speaking directly to me. I was both captivated and enchanted. The book starts out by featuring a well-known saying: “In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.” There is much literature about this notion and there is always the primary advice of simply practicing zen to contemplate this insight. But i’ve also learned that any parent, or any person who is around children, can see the truth of these words in the worlds of children’s play.
Raising a teenager, finishing a PhD about popular education, and working every day to stay engaged with a world of wars (hot, cold, and economic), of deteriorating climate and biodiversity, accelerating capitalist greed and rising fascism, it can be hard to find calm and stillness. I find it necessary to I read a lot of news and commentary as i’m sure many of us do. On a daily and/or weekly basis I read Heather Cox Richardson, Cory Doctorow, Timothy Snyder, Jessica Wildfire, Charlie Angus, Chris Hedges, Manuel A. Garcia, Slavoj Žižek, et al; and lots of art and poetry blogs: Pádraig Ó Tuama’s Poetry Unbound, Grant Snider, Maya C. Popa, man of aran, Suleika Jaouad, Austin Kleon, Mike Monteiro. And there are more. Altogether, it feels like a good way to understand what is going on.
And yet, it also rattles the nerves. So i go for a lot of walks and I listen, not so much to podcasts, but to the birds and the sounds of the city. This morning, the sunrise glistened in the pooled raindrops on the leaves of the Solomon’s seal. I’m not much a meditator but I have learned to hold my mind still on morning’s like this, and often when I walk my dog. And sometimes, I can feel all the busyness and information of the world draw back as a stillness and calm seems to pour into me. It never lasts long. But sometimes I think it’s better than coffee (only sometimes, mind you, as i take another sip of my hot, brown morning potion). This morning i remembered a couple of stories that are on regular rotation in my memory. Remembering them, retelling them, sharing them feels like necessary medicine:
Once there was a university professor who decided that he wanted to study zen. He travelled to a local monastery where he was welcomed and shown to the abbot’s study. The abbot was about to pour himself some tea. The professor stood before the abbot who looked up. The professor explained that he had been studying and teaching in the university for many years and that now he wished to add to his knowledge and learning by studying zen. The abbot nodded and began to pour the tea. The professor watched as the teacup filled to the brim and, apparently failing to notice the full cup, the abbot continued to pour. The cup overflowed and still the abbot poured. The professor was reluctant to embarrass the abbot but finally said, “Master, your cup is full and overflowing. It can hold no more tea.” The abbot continued to pour tea into the full cup and said, “Yes. And how do you, who come here with your cup so full, expect to fill it with the teachings of zen?” The professor nodded and smiled and bowed before the abbot.
I have travelled and read widely enough to know that Zen Buddhism (albeit heavily influenced by Taoism) is hardly the only practice to gain and teach this insight. A related story from Sufi tradition comes at this from a quite different angle but one that is, I daresay, kindred:
A friend saw Mulla Nasrudin searching for something in the street out front of his house. “What have you lost, Mulla?” he asked.
“My key,” said Nasrudin.
The friend joined the search. On their knees they both and looked about for the key. After a time the friend asked: “Nasrudin, where exactly did you lose the key?”
“In my own house.”
“Then why are we looking here in the street?”
“There is more light here than inside my own house.”
Suffice to say my teacup overflows regularly. But my dog with her perpetual requests to be let out or go for a walk, reminds me that I have a body. Walking our streets and parks with her reminds me of the world, its seasons, its life, its song and music. Picking up my dog’s poop reminds me that we all have responsibilities of care for our companion species, our wildlife (this morning alone I saw baby racoons and rabbits, listened to cardinals and robins and sparrows), and our neighbours.
I hope you enjoy the stories I share. I’m curious how you manage the deluge of information in our troubled world. How do you find (or make) calmness in your day?
It is very difficult for me to achieve a sense of calm presence, Chris. I know I have to shed some load from my endless "to do" list in order to get a respite. I strive to put in at least one, (and still better, two) centering prayer sessions each day. Thanks for reminding me to be more disciplined about it.
Thank you for referring to me in your post, Chris.
Meditation, Mindfulness. reading, sharing a simple meal with someone and going for walks. Presently I am reading books by Stephen Levine that I bought years ago. Now, I feel the time is right. They are very grounding. Chris, thank you for sharing!