![]() But there are times, such as when we undertake humble beginnings, that our sense of separation and self are lessened, helping us return to pure, innocent awareness (the “big mind”). The course of normal human activity generally pushes us further away from this type of consciousness focusing on separation and egocentrism (what Suzuki calls the “small mind”). Yet it is very difficult to attain such a perspective. If we define ourselves in these terms, then there is no loss in the death of relative attributes. And in this perspective lies the truth about reality: we are each part of Creation’s infinite and eternal unfolding. Yet our lives began with no concept of Me and Not Me – everything was one, naturally. Sooner or later, relative attributes must die, and we – if we define ourselves solely by these notions – must die with them. We deny the temporal nature of these attributes, even though we constantly see them changing: sons become orphans, friends drift apart, students graduate and become workers. As we grow, we pile endless attributes onto the idea of “Me”: son, brother, friend, student, smart, talented, etc. ![]() From the earliest days of childhood, when we learn to see the world around us and reach out for it, we divide reality into two realms: Me and Not Me. Of course, most of us spend our lives wrapped up in the self. “Self” is a sad conglomeration of false truths that will ultimately fail us, while “emptiness” is absolute reality that joyously lasts forever. This lack of egocentrism is of key importance to Buddhism, which stresses fundamental emptiness beneath what we perceive as the self. He knows that, to be a good beginner, he must become a sponge absorbing everything around him, aĬurrent of energy willing to be directed by the experienced hands of a teacher. The beginner’s state of mind is, by necessity, selfless – as a neophyte, he really has nothing to bring to the task at hand, but is there only to observe. In the clear Beginner’s Mind, firmly conceived ideas of self go out the window, leaving only a receptive, almost hyper-awareness of all things the mind is open to everything, and totally free for becoming. That is why we practice zazen: to clear our mind of what is related to something else" (88*). As he writes, "a mind full of preconceived ideas, subjective intentions, or habits is not open to things as they are. It is the exhilaration, humility and growth that I believe Suzuki is concerned with when he talks about Beginner’s Mind. We cannot avoid beginnings, especially if we want to grow. Though we may dread the “newbie environment” and cling to comfortable, familiar surroundings, we periodically find ourselves thrust into unfamiliar situations. The feelings are easily recalled: embarrassment, ignorance, trepidation, exhilaration and humility. We all know what it is like to be a beginner at something, the novice in a room full of experienced experts. ![]() I was keenly aware of the Beginner’s Mind before ever reading about it in Suzuki’s book. Surprisingly, I discovered that these two very different activities served to each greatly inform the other – being the new person at the cancer center exemplified the “Beginner’s Mind” that Suzuki writes about, while Soto Zen ideology helped me process my experiences with pastoral care. Two years ago, just as I began reading a book on Zen Buddhism by Suzuki Shunryu called “Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind,” I had started a training program in pastoral care at a famous New York City cancer hospital. ![]()
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