The Beginner’s Mindset
“Shoshin” is a term that finds its origin in Zen Buddhism, translating to “Beginner’s Mind”, and that is the subject of todays post. As I have immersed myself in the process of writing again the past couple of months I have experienced a different outlook on several things, some of which I touched on in prior posts. Most recently, I have been reminded of the positive influence that embracing the beginner’s mindset can have when embarking on a new endeavor, as well as in changing my approach to old ones and, in doing so, my approach to life as a whole. Being a beginner means being open to new ideas, to criticism (hopefully the constructive kind) and to changing the way you view, or do, things. It means approaching a situation or task without any preconceived ideas or notions of how it should look or how it is supposed to go. Those two words are the enemy of the beginner’s mindset, as is measuring yourself against others. The inspiration for this post was, as seems to be typical for me so far, sport. More specifically, learning a new one in the form of skate skiing. Sport has historically been a wonderful and powerful teacher in my life when I allow it to be and this most recent reminder to embrace the beginner’s mindset not just in learning a new skill or activity, but in all aspects of life, could not have come at a better time. I wanted to share my experience with you as a reminder that we could all probably benefit from stepping back to the days when we considered ourselves true beginner’s and approached life as such!
As I sat down to write this and looked over the past fifteen years, it had been nearly the full fifteen since I was really a beginner at something, since I had embraced the mindset and openness that comes with it. Fifteen years ago was when I first started riding a road bike. It was a completely new experience and I was like a sponge, absorbing all the input that older, more experienced riders offered. When I first began I took on all of the input from various coaches, trying to learn as much as I could because I was starting from zero. From what clothes to wear, to what gear to ride in, to race tactics, training and nutrition, I embraced a beginner’s mindset without consciously trying to for two reasons: First, I was young and hadn’t become stuck in my ways and second, I was actually a beginner, I was entering into a sport that I knew nothing about and had no expectations from. I progressed rapidly and certainly at some point I became more selective with who I listened to and what input I would take on board, but I always tried to remind myself to remain open to new ideas, new approaches, and some of the greatest success I had always came when I did.
As I mentioned I recently became a beginner again which sparked the motivation for writing this, but before I address that experience I want talk about the first time after cycling that I tapped into the beginner’s mindset. It is a perfect example of how even when we do so unconsciously it can yield great results. Here I am referring to the swimming portion of triathlon where a coach named Gerry Rodrigues earned both my life long respect and friendship for the way he helped to guide and teach me.
I first met Gerry in January of 2018. I had picked up a little running injury as I made my way into Ironman so we decided to do my first “real” swim camp down in Santa Monica where Gerry runs his triathlon and open water oriented swim program called Tower 26. While Jesse Moore was my coach during that first year of Tri, he was humble enough to defer to Gerry when it came to most of the swim training we incorporated. Having been coached my Gerry himself through his own journey in the sport, Jesse knew a good mentor when he saw one. I remember the first time I met Gerry he reminded me a little of my hard ass middle school swim coach, but as I would learn he was soft as a teddy bear on the inside. Any harshness that he would bark out during practice when sending us off on one of his cruel, self devised sets, was always followed my a mischievous grin. One that clearly conveyed the sense he was getting a kick out of doling out this suffering that he knew would make us better, something that would always either deeply annoy or amuse me depending on how my morning in the pool was going.
Looking back I think Gerry knew the mindset I was coming into his program with: that of an elite athlete, not a beginner, and he knew just the remedy for it. On day one, having been swimming for less than two months, he threw me into lane one at the Pacific Palisades high school pool (for those not familiar with swimming, practices typically have the fastest athletes in lane one and get slower as the number progresses upward). I figured that I was fit, a world class athlete and that I would find myself near the front of the group. Oh how wrong I was. On that first morning with Gerry and his Tower 26 crew, at 5:45 am, I was humbled more than I had been since getting dropped within five minutes of starting my first group ride when I was seventeen. Everything I thought about “who” I was because of my cycling background, any ego I had developed swimming at my local pool, any delusions of grandeur or hopes for a rocket fast progression were all blown to pieces during the first half hour in the water, during the first set of that workout. A woman who I thought did not look like an elite athlete literally swam circles around me (I would later learn some of the blazing fast race times she had recorded in the pool and be further humbled, if that was possible). People of all shapes and sizes kicked my ass up and down lane one for ninety straight minutes that morning. I think they all took a little bit of pride in doing it too, in serving a big slice of humble pie to the former pro cyclist who thought he might be the exception to the rule.
Gerry, with his heart of gold, did what he did for a purpose that morning. He knew I would have an inflated ego given my background and, through his experience with elite athletes, he also knew that simply talking to me, using words to tell me to embrace the beginner’s mindset, wasn’t going to work. So, he showed me that I had no choice other than to embrace it. I emerged from that first day a bit shell shocked, a little embarrassed, and certainly very humbled. Before I left the pool that morning Gerry pulled me aside. He told me that it would be a long process, that there would be no shortcuts, but that he could see it was possible to get my swim where it needed to be. That day he broke me down enough to get me to embrace learning, both from him and the other swimmers, and to let go of any preconceived ideas of how I thought things should go for me. From that first encounter I instantly respected Gerry. I understood what he was trying to do and over the next couple of years during my time in the sport of triathlon, Gerry would always gently nudge me back into that beginner’s mindset whenever I got led astray.
I’m sharing the story above to demonstrate the clear value of the beginner’s mindset, in this case applied to a competitive sport. With swimming there was an easy to grasp, tangible improvement that was reflected in becoming a better swimmer quite rapidly during the two years I worked with Gerry. In other aspects of life that progress isn’t always so quantifiable or measurable. Take writing for example. I don’t think writing is a process that I will ever “master” or stop learning. I think the beauty of writing lies precisely in the fact that it is a never ending journey that can teach countless lessons along the way, a path towards self discovery that can ideally be shared with others. Despite seeing the value in approaching swimming as a true beginner, of letting go of my ego and my expectations around it, at the time I wasn’t able to fully grasp the value that a similar approach could bring to all aspects of life. The more recent experience I have had of embracing the beginner’s mindset is a little different in that I have been able to successfully start applying the approach to my life as a whole. As with the above, the origin of this most recent experience relates to sport as well. Everyone has their great teachers in life and it seems that for me sport will always be one that I turn to for guidance.
When we first made the decision to stay in Truckee for this winter a couple of months ago I felt a bit depressed. As our plans to return to Maui were derailed, as many plans have been during this past year, I realized how deeply I was going to miss being near the ocean, seeing our friends over there, feeling the embrace of the warm water during morning surfs. I thought of how I wouldn’t get to enjoy the evening walks taking in the sunset, watching my kids playing in the sand and running free. On a personal level, one of the most acute concerns I had was being unsure of what I was going to do in order to get outside, to connect with nature, having never lived in the mountains through a real winter. I knew how to snowboard, but a day at the slopes is a project (often a crowded one), a large time commitment, certainly not a solitary pursuit, not like an easy jaunt to the beach for an hour in the ocean first thing in the morning.
As luck would have it, I’m fortunate to be surrounded by a friend group of outdoorsmen here in Truckee, quite a few of them twenty to thirty years older than I am, and still some of the fittest people I have ever spent time around. One of my good friends Bill had been hounding me for years to try skate skiing, a variation on classic Cross Country skiing, that is quite popular up here. He tells me now he was convinced I would enjoy it (he was right) but I secretly think he just wanted a sport we could do together where he was able to make me suffer. So, with no commitments to any pro sport and a winter in the snow ahead of me, I listened. I went out and bought the full setup. Boots, skis, poles, clothes, I was ready to go! The way Bill had sold it to me, the idea of being able to drive five minutes from my house to our world class XC center, to be outside in nature immediately, no crowds, no lines, it all sounded wonderful and seemed to be exactly what I was looking for.
Just over a month ago I pulled up to the XC ski trails in Tahoe Donner for my first outing. I was a little nervous but excited at the same time, convinced I’d be flying along before I knew it. Without realizing it, I was already falling back into the mindset of an egotistical former elite athlete, thinking that because I could pedal a bike fast once upon a time that surely I would ski like a pro from the start. Other friends, including a former pro cyclist who was on the podium of the Tour de France, had tried to tell me that learning to skate ski properly was a process, that it would be tough but very rewarding, and ultimately fun. “Maybe it was hard for you, but I’m sure I’ll get it quickly” was what I was secretly thinking each time the topic came up. It was clearly just my ego whispering in my ear but I was foolish enough to listen. You would think I would have learned my lesson back in the pool with Gerry but some mistakes I apparently need to repeat. You can probably guess how that first morning went.
It took me five minutes to get my skis on. A process that now takes all of a few seconds took me a full five minutes. Embarrassed from the get go, I pushed myself with my poles over to the practice track. Bill told me to watch him and try to do what he was doing, so I tried, and could not for the life of me move more than a few feet. There was no gliding, there was no skating, there was no movement of any kind. There was however a lot of falling and silently cursing under my breath. That went on for about fifteen minutes till I finally was able to make a little forward progress, shortly followed by ending up on the ground again. Trying to incorporate using the poles was a whole different story. Arms flailing, poles flying, I made my way around that practice track through sheer will, but it wasn’t fun, it wasn’t pretty, it was completely exhausting, and I saw no way I would ever be able to cruise along in the effortless way that Bill was demonstrating. Humbled was an understatement. I felt like a fool, investing the money to get all the gear for a sport that I clearly was not going to be able to do. That feeling didn’t go away that first day. I headed home feeling defeated but resolved to try again at least one more time since I figured it couldn’t go any worse. In hindsight, I felt discouraged because I had met a sport (much like swimming) where sheer physical effort was only a piece of the puzzle, where fitness could not overcome bad technique no matter how hard I tried to force it, where I would have to embrace the process of learning the sport rather than just putting my head down and charging ahead!
The next day I went out with Bill again and this time, after once again flailing my way around the practice track and feeling ready to put all my gear on craigslist, we ran into a friend of Bill’s named Julie. She’s an upbeat, very fit, early fifties woman who is renowned for her ability to do it all up here. I felt embarrassed having someone else who knew who I was watching me as I was hoping to struggle in anonymity that morning. In the moment I recall thinking “Great, someone else to watch me make a fool of myself”. It’s amazing how the ego can get in the way when it runs unchecked, creating stories about what others think that have nothing to do with reality. Then, instead of laughing, giving me a hard time, or saying something along the lines of “I told you so”, Julie said she had watched me struggle around the track and gave me a few pointers. She had me ditch my poles and she crept with me, skate by skate, around the practice ring. All of the sudden, making the few minor changes she had suggested, I was moving! The ever so gradual uphill that seemed impossible without relying on my poles suddenly felt flat and before I knew it, I had done one lap, then another, and another. What thirty minutes prior had seemed impossible, I was doing. Not with ease, not gracefully, but I was doing it. For all of Bill’s talents teaching is not one of them. The man is a natural athlete and, just as very few good swimmer’s can convey the “how” to the average person, the same applies to skiing. Gerry broke the mold on that one in swimming while Julie, and another great teacher I have been fortunate to meet named Jeff, do the same for skate skiing.
Much like my experience in swimming, that first day on the skis served to humble me. To break me down completely to where I had no idea how I might improve but where I was open to any input that might help me do so. Without immediately realizing it, I was back in the beginner’s mindset, and once I was there the improvement came rapidly. Longer and longer ski’s have followed since then while I soak up everything I can from those around me. From not being able to circle the two hundred yard practice track to being able to ski nearly twenty miles and make it up to one of the highest points on our cross country trails two weeks later, it was fully embracing the beginner’s mindset that allowed me to do it. And it made me think that embracing that mindset, applying it to life, rather than just to sporting endeavors, might yield similarly incredible results.
Sport has often been my teacher, so I relate the stories above because they are the instances that reminded me of what being a beginner is truly about. Whatever form the reminder to embrace being a beginner might take in your own life may vary, but the message is the same: It is about being a student of whatever you are doing, being open to learning, to criticism (when it is productive), and seeing that when you do embrace this mindset there is no such thing as failing, only learning. That is a key take away.
That first day in the water with Gerry, I felt like I had failed, until he pulled me aside and lifted my spirits, told me that he would teach me, told me that it wouldn’t be easy but that I could do it. That first day on the skis I felt like I had failed, until the following day when Debbie unknowingly changed my entire outlook on things. After the initial feelings of failure which served to open my mind to a new approach, each bit of positive reinforcement I got helped me to feel like I was progressing and learning. What I didn’t see at the time was that every single one of the people I was skiing with had been doing this sport for upwards of thirty years and the people who made up lane one down south with Gerry were all far superior swimmers. The same way that I would never judge someone on their first bike ride against a Tour de France rider, my friends and lane mates weren’t judging me against their ability, they were treating me as the beginner that I was, that I still am. It just took me realizing that to start treating myself that way as well.
Once my mindset shifted, every single time I have gone to ski has been positive. Even the day I was trying to learn to go a little faster downhill and flew off into the trees, sliding along an ice patch and giving myself the first bit of “road rash” I have had since leaving cycling. That experience ended with me laughing because at least I had learned I was not ready to go that fast! When someone tells me how to hold my poles, how to tuck my arms in, to bring them a little higher, or shift my weight and bend from my ankles I don’t recoil and become defensive as I used to. Rather, I find myself viewing this criticism as the beneficial kind, the type that is offered solely to help me improve, not just to point out what I am doing wrong. It has led me to feeling that there is no such thing as a bad ski!
I’m not sure why it took me this long, but learning to skate ski has finally helped me embrace the beginner’s mindset through all areas of my life. I have long been my own harshest critic, going all the way back to my time swimming in middle school and continuing into my cycling career. Beyond sport, I have times where I feel that I am a terrible father, husband, friend, even person. Times where I want so badly to be better at all of these things but cannot stop constantly judging and criticizing my every move. All too often, in the past, I have had an idea of what things should look like or how an experience is supposed to go, but the reality is far from it. Through embracing the beginners mindset I am finally getting out of my own way and allowing things to simply be what they are.
I mentioned it earlier but should and supposed are two words I think you can throw out from your vocabulary, something I have been working on doing recently, and it’s shocking how often they pop into my mind now that I am paying attention. I should have spent more time with Bodhi (my son) this week. I should have left earlier to avoid traffic. I should have remembered the beans at the grocery store. From the important to the mundane the word should can be a relentless adversary. Here is the truth: it serves no purpose except to allow us to berate ourselves for things that we didn’t do, while completely ignoring that we have the opportunity to improve the next time around. For example, I know I am guilty of thinking I should be able to swim faster or ski better when I first began each sport. But why? Why should I have done something, or be able to do something? I know in my own life the majority of the thoughts centered around should and supposed to are self inflicted, existing only in my mind rather than reality. When I came into both of those sports, I created an artificial standard based on my past, or on others, that I was judging myself against. This negative cycle can extend far beyond sport and I think almost all of us are guilty of falling prey to it. If you look at your own life, I would venture that most of the time no one else is constantly telling you what you should have done or were supposed to be able to do, and if they are then that is probably not someone you want to spend too much time around. We are usually the ones telling ourselves how we should have been or what we were supposed to do and far too often we are our own worst enemy, offering up only the most derogatory type of criticism: the kind that is solely intended to point out how we have failed rather than help us find a way improve.
For me, the concept of Shoshin, embracing the beginner’s mindset, means accepting it all. It means instead of just becoming a student of a new sport I am choosing to become, or return to being, a student of life. It means writing this piece and putting it out there so that I can continue to move forward. It means working each day and each week to show up for my kids and my family in the best way that I can, in this moment. It means bringing myself back to the present whenever I start to drift into the land of should. It means viewing each day as a new opportunity, as cliche as that sounds. Each day truly is a new beginning if we can unburden ourselves of the judgment, expectations, and the should haves from the day prior. Living in the beginner’s mindset means embracing every experience in life knowing that each one is working towards the larger goals we may have. Sport taught me that as well.
During my time as a pro athlete, it was not uncommon for me to be unable to complete a workout in training. There were plenty of days where it just wasn’t going to happen. But, the thing I learned (that seemed to lack any logical reason), was that I could often try it again the very next day or a couple of days later and get a completely different result. Sport taught me that instead of sitting there focusing on what I should have been able to do on a given day, I instead had the opportunity to try again. It was only in my mind that I was supposed to be able to do a certain workout, complete a certain ride, or even get a certain result at a race. The body is not a machine. It is connected to the mind, the heart, and the spirit in each one of us and that is what makes us different from machines. I believe that we as humans are unpredictable creatures living in an unpredictable world. How boring it would be to know the outcome of everything before we begin! Treating yourself as a beginner allows you to let go of your own ideas that are keeping you stuck, to get out of your own way, and to accept that actively living life is a journey that has no set destination. One where you never stop learning, changing, or growing. Some would even venture that death is only another version of change, a shift of energy from one form to another. The day you stop allowing yourself to be open to growth, to possibility, is the true day you stop living.
From sport I have learned that when life breaks us down, it is so that we become open to learning once again, so that we can let go of all the stuff that doesn’t serve us well: our egos, our notions of “who” we are, why we should be able to do something, why things should go a certain way for us. It is freeing to realize we can let go of it all. The severity of how far we have to break down in order to do this varies from person to person. I actually think in most cases there are many gentle taps on the shoulder that occur before life has to beat us with a hammer to get us back into the beginner’s mindset. What I am working on now is trying to feel those subtle taps, trying to listen rather than simply speak louder and drown out what the universe is trying to tell me. You could say I am trying to get back to the place where we all begin as children, our natural state of being, open and receptive to wherever life leads us.
In closing, if you do nothing else after reading this, I would encourage you to examine your own life, looking for any experiences where you may have benefited from treating yourself as a beginner, treating yourself with the kindness that accompanies it. You might have to go all the way back to your childhood to find one, as I did until recently. I would also challenge you, just for a week (at least to begin with) to pay attention to every single time you use the phrases should, should have, or supposed to in reference to yourself or towards others. The exception to this task would be something along the lines of telling yourself “Life is unfolding exactly as it should”. That is one of very few cases where the word can have a positive connotation rather than negative. I think you might be surprised at what you find if you decide to try this.
Being a beginner can be fun, freeing, and incredibly rewarding, and I am finding it a very enjoyable way to go through life. In addition to noting how often you use those words or phrases that are of no use to you, pay attention and be open to those gentle taps on the shoulder, the ones that say “hey, stop getting in your own way” or “hey, why don’t you try approaching this problem differently”, or even the not so gentle tap that shakes you a bit and says “hey, don’t be such an egotistical ass!”, so that you don’t have to get a cinder block dropped on your head to wake you up. If you read my last post, I promise you there are times I wish I had listened to the gentle nudges that came before the wake up call I forced the the universe into delivering just over a year ago! While I can’t, and wouldn’t, go back and change that experience, I have certainly learned from it. I can tell you that now I have opened my mind, heart, and spirit, listening for any guidance that might come my way. I hope that after reading this you will find yourself doing the same.