Tag Archives: Zen

Body and mind

Background:

I’m loving my return to archery. I now realize that when I readjust my healthy living goals for 2021, they will need to include finding time to shoot arrows. Just like I created time for writing and exercise over the past couple years, I need to carve out some regular time to shoot. Over this week the first thing I’ll do is figure out a way to do so indoors at home… that’s not just safe, but safe in my wife’s eyes.

These last couple of sessions, I’ve been working on my release. With a compound bow, the goal is not to squeeze the trigger with your thumb, but rather to pull your entire arm back and have the back tension of your arm and hand cause your thumb to trigger the release. To do this, your hand needs to be relaxed, your thumb needs to be securely around the trigger, and your back tension should cause the release such that the release surprises you. Being comfortable with this surprise takes getting used to, and so does the idea of not squeezing your thumb.

Body:

It’s interesting when you learn a new skill how easy it is to fill your conscious mind with everything except what you need to focus on. I want to be surprised by the trigger release, but my body is waiting, anticipating it, and taking my attention away from my focus on my release. I want to relax my sight, and let the scope pin float around the target center, but my thumb bounces on the trigger when I see the pin dead center. I want to feel my arm pulling back but instead I realize that my thumb pushed down… only after I’ve taken the shot.

With any new physical skill, I find that my body awareness is my biggest challenge. In the past, when I’ve gone to a core fitness class, the Physio guiding us would adjust my body during an exercise and say, ‘Do you feel the difference?’ Usually my response is ‘No’. I need to look at a mirror and practice the difference, but I don’t feel it.

And Mind:

With archery, I’m starting to feel the difference… but I have to be both focussed and relaxed: Focussed enough to be paying attention to as little as possible, honing in on just my release and not anything else that distracts me; Relaxed enough that I am genuinely surprised by the release, and not in a heightened state of preparation for it. The state of being simultaneously focussed and relaxed is not easily attained.

It’s about unifying body and mind. Having both act as one.

The sound of snow falling

I love the lack of sound sometimes when it snows. The sound of an absence of sound is what I’m trying to describe. There is a kind of muffled silence that is produced by snow silently landing around you, while all surfaces are covered by puffy snowflakes.

It’s empty, but not like a void.

It’s silent, but somehow not noiseless.

It’s solitude without loneliness.

It’s the sound of snow falling, but there is no sound.

Image by Sheila Stewart

Empty your cup

Empty Your Cup
A Japanese Zen master received a university professor who came to enquire about Zen. It was obvious from the start of the conversation that the professor was not so much interested in learning about Zen as he was in impressing the master with his own opinions and knowledge.

The master listened patiently and finally suggested they have tea. The master poured his visitor’s cup full and then kept on pouring.

The professor watched the cup overflowing until he could no longer contain himself.
‘The cup is overfull, no more will go in.’

‘Like this cup,’ the master said, ‘you are full of your own opinions and speculations. How can I show you Zen unless you first empty your cup?’

Taken From: Zen in the Martial Arts By Joe Hyams, 1979, pp. 18-19.

This is a favourite parable of mine. However there is another perspective that I take which contradicts this in one way, and complements it in another.

Yes, when you are learning something new, your previous perspective and knowledge can ‘get in the way’ of what you can learn.

But what about cognitive load? What happens when the issue isn’t that you are espousing your knowledge and blocking new learning, what about when you’ve reached the point where you feel you’ve learned too much too quickly, and there isn’t ‘enough room’ to add anything new?

(I think a few educators are feeling this now, after 6-8 weeks of remote learning.)

This is where I find that this parable becomes a paradox… when cognitive load feels too much, an instinct is to feel like, ‘My cup is full, I can’t fit any more new learning in.” When this happens, it’s actually a great time to try something new! To step out of your comfort zone, empty your own cup and play. Learn something you don’t ‘need’ to learn.

When someone is teaching you, you need to empty your cup.

When you feel like you’ve learned too much, you can add a bit more, in a different field of interest, and this will actually empty your cup a bit.

Being ignorant of your cup being full puts you in a spot where you need to empty your cup. Knowing your cup is full, you can increase the volume of the cup when you stop adding the same tea.

Do you feel your cup is full right now? Choose something completely different and interesting to learn and you’ll find more room in your cup again.