MomenTech is an experimental production studio based in New York City, founded in 2010 by Filipino-American conceptual artist Reynard Loki and Polish-American multimedia artist Maciej Toporowicz. American filmmaker Mika Johnson joined in 2013. Inspired by transnational progressivism, cosmology, post-humanism, ecology, neo-nomadism, futurism and more, MomenTech has created pop culture remixes, instructional works, site-specifc installations, public space interventions and user-generated content pieces, developing over 35 projects and participating in 18 group exhibitions in the United States, Canada, Germany, Italy, Greece, South Africa, China and the Philippines.
As of November 1, 2013, MomenTech is on hiatus from any and all creative production for a six-month period as they engage fully with our proposed on-hiatus activity: a daily meditation practice.
MomenTech's hiatus residency also includes meditation research, data collection and progress updates posted to the RFAOH website.
This investigation into meditation continues MomenTech's interest in the practice, which began in 2010 with Field Experiment, an interactive, site-specific audiovisual project that explores meditation, self-hypnosis, the media and our cosmic origins (via Cosmic Microwave Background Radiation, or CMBR) by asking participants to imagine a field after having stared into live television static for a period of 10 seconds. Field Experiment was selected by the Behring Institute of Medical Research to be a part of their first publication for "Placebos for Art," a long-term research project investigating the influence of "art-based placebos" on public health.
Meditation was also a theme in MomenTech's 2011 project Mandala-Tanque, in which pétanque competitors are invited to play a game on the surface of the pétanque court on which a Tibetan Buddhist sand mandala has been drawn. The project was selected for inclusion at the 2011 Dumbo Arts Festival.
MomenTech will resume its normal production schedule on May 1, 2014.
Being the primary writer in MomenTech, the task of composing the group's response to the exit questionnaire naturally fell on me. My suggestion to my fellow collaborators was that I would draft a response from the group as a whole and Mika and Maciej would add their own thoughts. But the more I thought about what we "should" express as a group, the more I realized that it was a bit of a fool's errand. It makes sense: Meditation—the daily practice of which was the main activity of MomenTech's residency—is ultimately an individual journey.
Of course, group meditation is a common practice; I have participated in several such gatherings at the Tibet House in New York during our residency as part of my own exploration into the various styles of meditation. But in the end, meditation is an intensely personal activity that can lead to intensely personal revelations, even as it may help to strip away what is to be one of humans' heaviest burdens: the ego.
The initial structure of our residency was straightforward: Each of MomenTech's three members would engage in an individual daily meditation practice for the residency's six-month period. But while the design of our residency may have been rather simple, its goals were anything but: to "develop mindfulness, concentration, insight, wisdom." That's pretty heavy-duty stuff.
Did we develop any of these aspects? I'd like to say yes, but who can really know? Meditation is not so much a "fix-it" therapy as it is a lifestyle, a way of being present in the world. Perhaps that movement towards "being present" and "being in the present" affected MomenTech's ability to plan for future events around the residency. For example, at the outset, we were all gung-ho about hosting weekly online open meditation sessions via Google Hangouts. That plan never materialized until the very end. (We hosted an open meditation on Google Hangout on the last day of our residency.)
One thing is for sure, MomenTech really did go on hiatus and for the first time in our four-year history, took a break from making art; or rather, taking a break from producing the things MomenTech produces (MomenTech, as a rule, avoids using the terms "art" and "artists.") But is that even possible? Art is often compared to life. And if art, like life, is a continual process, then can an artist truly avoid "making art"? Perhaps MomenTech did not think about, design and build a "product," per se, but the experiences we had, both individually and as a group, during our six month hiatus will forever be a part of all our future work in some fundamental way.
Our residency did "create" one kind of important thing: questions. And perhaps the best thing about our residency with RFAOH. Some of the best effects that meditation can call forth have to do with a growth in awareness. And part of becoming aware is to challenge one's status quo, to continually ask questions. What is art? What does it mean to create it? Can an artist take a break from making art? Is meditation an art form? Conversely, can making art be meditative?
I asked my fellow MomenTechnicians to email me a few lines of thoughts and observations a few days after the residency ended.
"Having a surgery and recovery during the residency taught me that meditation has its limits, at least for me," Maciej said. "I wasn't able to meditate, because the post-surgery stress was too much." He added that "having opportunity to meditate more often than usually moved me closer to solving my personal koan, the one I have been trying to solve since a while."
"The main challenge the residency posed for me was in relation to self-discipline. On some days finding time to meditate was not an issue, whereas on other days it was almost interruptive, even frustrating. Undoubtedly, this was partly because the residency was not in a physical space, with a community of artists or meditation practitioners working toward a common goal. However, in the end, this absence of a physical space and community made my practice stronger, in the sense that I had to learn to integrate my meditation time with my normal routines and responsibilities, which is also a useful approach to art making as well.
"In the beginning, we had originally set out to answer short daily and weekly questionnaires. We took a lot of time formulating these questions, which were later abandoned. My guess is that the practice immediately became something very personal, which in many ways was difficult to comment on, at least by questionnaire. I responded similarly to the blog, in the sense that I found it challening to write about something that felt entirely personal. I simply didn’t feel I had much to contribute, as the content of that practice was my own subjectivity, not something that I could generalize about or even articulate. In retrospect, I do wish MomenTech had agreed to do one spontaneous drawing before and after each meditation session, as it would have physicalized that response, without rationalizing it. We did this on the last day and all found it surprisingly interesting and satisfying."
"Life is a process of becoming, a combination of states we have to go through," wrote French author Anais Nin. "Where people fail is that they wish to elect a state and remain in it. This is a kind of death."
Could taking a break from "creating art" help to avoid a kind of "artistic death"? Perhaps. One thing is for sure, for six months, a residency with RFAOH changed the normal "elected" state of MomenTech. The decision to meditate during our hiatus only heightened the experience.
Finally, on behalf of MomenTech, I would like to thank Matt and Shinobu, the founders of RFAOH, for making this all possible. We are fortunate to have been a part of this program. Through our residency, MomenTech sowed important seeds for the future.
On Apr 29 2014, shinobu commented on Last page: Is the last page the last report, you guys?? (snif snif)[...]
From RFAOH co-directors
MomenTech’s 6 month on-hiatus residency ended on April 30 2013. We thank the trio for their participation as our inaugural residents, and bringing a fantastic on-hiatus project. RFAOH sincerely wishes the best of luck for their post on-hiatus life — please follow their “normal creative production” which resumes as of May 1 at http://momentech.blogspot.com/From now on, we’ll all meditate when we are stuck making art.
Click “final report” to read on their experience at RFAOH.
As part of our residency, MomenTech submitted an event proposal to the Rubin Museum of Art in New York, a museum that features art of the Himalayas. Included in the proposal is an audience participatory activity framed as a pseudo-scientific “meditation experiment.” This involves asking the members of the audience to create a quick doodle on a high quality sheet of archival paper in permanent marker or similar drawing implement prior to the meditation session, and then another one immediately after the meditation. These anonymous doodles would be collected, analyzed and presented in a “before-and-after” format, in an attempt to reveal possible changes in participants’ mental state due to the effect of the meditation session. Today, as part of our individual morning meditation sessions, the three members of MomenTech did a test run of this experiment. Each drawing was made in under a minute. Below are the results.
Part of your teaching method involves an expression of Zen through “creative response.” Can you define this concept?
That means to be creative in any kind of problem-solving situation. For example, you’re out on the street and see a 16-year-old kid who’s begging and you want to help this person. What’s the creative way to do it? The most creative way is not to give them a dollar, but to interact with them, to get to know them, to try to make a real difference. That’s a creative response. We tend to get stuck in these rails of thinking and it keeps us from really making a meaningful difference.
You are a founding member of the Zen Peacemaker Family. What is this organization?
My teacher Bernie Glassman founded the Zen Peacemakers along with me and a few other people in this country—maybe there were five or six of us. At that time—it was about 1995 or 1996—social justice was not a Zen Buddhist concern in the States. Zen was about your own personal liberation. You really have to give Bernie credit for this, because he was the one who started the dialogue. He said, “Wait a minute. If I’m personally enlightened, doesn’t that mean that I am automatically out here working for the equality of all people?”
So he’s saying that with enlightenment comes responsibility, that enlightenment is not just a self-centered state of being.
Exactly. But there were arguments about it at the time. Some people would criticize those among us who approached social responsibility through the lens of Zen, saying, “Well that’s not Zen.” Of course, that’s no longer the case. Bernie founded Greyston Bakery and hired a lot of people who were on welfare. The profits went to the bakery’s non-profit parent organization, the Greyston Foundation, which supported the local community. Bernie is quite the entrepreneur. What happened was that he got so interested in that that he became less interested in people sitting and facing a wall and wearing their robes. This is life. I came on at just about that time and I have tried to hold on to both, because I see a need for both. And also, I’ve always done this kind of work. When I was doing video, I was teaching people in drug treatment centers and people with AIDS. So for me, it wasn’t a big difference. All my Dharma talks naturally include what our responsibilities are.
Would you say that there has been an increased interest social justice among the Zen community in recent years?
Yes, there has been a huge change. Another teacher from Vietnam, Thich Nhat Hahn, has been very involved in peace work. In the last couple of years, Bhikkhu Bodhi, an American Theravada Buddhist monk ordained in Sri Lanka, where he studied for 30 years, founded Buddhist Global Relief, which is fighting hunger across the world. So this is what’s happening now to Buddhism in the West, and in the States in particular.
It’s nice to be reminded of the activism that has become a part of modern Buddhist ideology, considering our steady diet of bad news streaming in from the 24/7 media cycle.
And that’s what sitting in meditation is good for. You take a breath. [Deep breath.] You become present: “I’m right here.” When you are truly present, you can’t block anything out, whether it’s joy, sadness or frustration about the conditions of the world. And if you really feel that frustration, then you have to say, “OK, what can I do about it? What action can I take?”
When you become less a part of the problem and more a part of the solution, perhaps frustration gives way to hope.
The Buddha taught that to achieve enlightenment, one must develop two qualities: wisdom and compassion. Can meditation alone develop these qualities, or do you need other studies?
It’s good to have other studies, but one can arrive at it purely through meditation. In Zen, we would say that the realization that you’re not separate from everything, that you are part of everything is an enlightened viewpoint. You’re walking down the street and it’s not just about you, it’s about everything that’s happening at that time. So wisdom is the realization of the nature of life. I am part of everything else.
How does compassion relate to that?
It naturally arises out of the wisdom. Once you realize that this hand belongs to the same body as that hand, you’re going to take care of both hands.
As meditation has emerged as a tool not only for enlightenment, but also for developing brain skills like memory and concentration, there has been talk about the possibility that this practice is being misused for decidedly non-compassionate ends, such as being a more successful Wall Street executive or a better sharpshooter.
I can’t imagine it being misused. Being a progressive myself, I hate to say it, but that criticism is kind of a knee-jerk progressive response to any kind of news that says, “Well, the capitalist ‘bad guys’ are going to use this for their own greedy purposes.” But how can it be? If a person becomes more intimate with themselves, when they realize that what they’re doing, who they are, is also who the next person is, is also who everyone around them are. How can that really lead to harmful behavior?
If people are either innately good or innately evil—and that’s a big “if”—then does it follow that the practice of meditation may have either good or evil consequences?
I don’t quite buy the good-and-evil thing, but as an old-fashioned leftie, I’m going to say that there are those who are very deeply traumatized and injured who are sociopaths. And yes, they might be able to misuse the benefits gained from meditation, such as concentration and focus. Yes, it has been found that meditation improves the performance of sharpshooters. But most of the people using it would discover that they can self-soothe so that they don’t need to eat, drink or take something to soothe themselves, that they can simply take a breath and it would work fine. And they would become more aware of their interaction with others. Ultimately, that leads to a more compassionate lifestyle. I think that a hundred years from now, we’ll laugh at the debate that went on. And we’ll see that this was a major change in our culture.
I usually find that I have little or nothing to say about meditation; maybe because many have said what I think there is to say, before, as in the last few millennium, or maybe because it feels too personal, too subjective. This week, however, I have something to say since my practice, over the past month, has been disrupted for reasons that made me think. To begin with, I moved. Boxing up my life and changing spaces has always been incredibly un-grounding. There is shift, it feels, in my total pattern of existence, which is sometimes good in the sense that I become aware of my accumulated possessions and my daily routines, most of which belong to a space. Only when I lost the room where I meditate did I realize the value of that space. Now I have a makeshift space, with distractions, but not a space I can devote to the practice entirely. But then a second thing happened: I got sick and have remained sick for almost four weeks. These were different illnesses, almost back to back, but one has held on, I suppose partly due to the stress of moving.
What does being sick and meditating feel like? It depends on the sickness of course but in my case, which is sinus related, my head feels like it’s in a bubble. Furthermore I become more aware of the general discomfort of my body, not the free flowing energy that usually comes with meditation. I can only hope that this feeling lifts next week so that my desire to meditate returns (I am still meditating, but against my will or desire to do so). Who, after all, would consciously want to intensify their awareness of pain? It makes more sense, at least when your body is sick, or feels pain, to stay distracted. Of course most of us have heard the opposite: that you should go into that sickness, that you should ask the question why? — since your mind and body are using that sickness, or that pain, to make you conscious of something etc. All interesting ideas, but ideas no less, most of which remind me of the story of Aesop’s “Sour Grapes” (cognitive dissonace).
So rather than looking too hard for a reason for my sickness, instead I have used this experience to reflect on things I took previously for granted, specifically a.) that meditation comes easy with a space devoted to the practice and b.) that meditation also comes easy when in good physical health. This is more interesting to think about when we realize that most of our species do not have access to a space without distractions or a physical body, free of sickness or pain. For example hunger is a pain and where I live right now, in America, which is often considered the wealthiest country in the world, we have approximately 50 million people who live in food-insecure households; that means 50 million people, on any given day, who might experience hunger.
Having read one of my collaborators blog entries – especially “My Garden”, in January — which describes his experience with meditation after open-heart-surgery, and mitral valve replacement, his words return to me. It makes me wonder what other obstacles people everywhere feel in relation to meditation; things that I have simply not thought about; things that I take for granted. Would love to hear what others have to say on the subject.
In the third part of our chat, Zen master Roshi Pat Enkyo O’Hara talks about Zen art, walking meditation and her “Five Expressions of Zen.” To read Part 1, click here. To read Part 2, click here.
Your Five Expressions of Zen are meditation, study, communication, action and caring. How did you come to develop these expressions?
There is a rubric, in the Tibetan tradition in particular, of the Five Buddha Families, each of which represents one aspect of an enlightened mind. That’s what inspired me to develop the Five Expressions. They cover what we need to cover.
What makes Zen Buddhism unique in the Buddhist practice?
First we have to look at the cultural source. Zen Buddhism is profoundly influenced by Taoism. Tibetan Buddhism was profoundly influenced by the indigenous Bon religion of the Himalayas. That was a mystical tradition, so a certain mysticism flowed into the Buddhism that arrived in Tibet and Nepal. Likewise, the Buddhism that went to Southeast Asia incorporated cultural elements of those regions. In the early 19th century, Westerners did not know that those were all variants of Buddhism and thought they were different religions. They looked so different and they they began to realized that they were all talking about this person called Buddha. [laughs.] And Zen means “mind.” It’s Taoist, so it tends not to be deity-oriented, much more secular, much more grounded in the everyday. Zen “says” we don’t believe in writing and conversation. However, what’s a little embarrassing is that there’s more written in China and Japan than in the other traditions. Zen had an appeal to the intellectuals in China, and then Japan. But our form of practice is to continually critique the use of language as a way to understand the world.
Is that why there’s a lot of silence in Zen?
Exactly. And there’s also a lot of [makes sudden loud yell] to break things up, which says you’re not going to capture it with words. Words are fine. But they are not the truth. So that’s fundamental to the Zen tradition. Whereas, say, in the Tibetan tradition, there’s much more attention to analytical thought, more scholarship, more debate. In the Southeast Asian tradition, there’s an incredible emphasis on the “Vinaya,” or rules that outline morals and ethics.
As part of my own meditative practice, and because I’m also a visual artist, I started doing sumi ink drawings. How can this type of activity help achieve mindfulness?
Because they really are the same thing. You have your brush ready, you have your ink and paper ready. And you take a moment, a breath, and then pick up the brush and start painting. That’s it. That’s what we’re doing on the cushion. These practices interact with one another quite beautifully.
Do you think that because of the heavy influence of the arts in the Zen Buddhist tradition, that artists and artistic type might gravitate more towards the Zen style of Buddhism as opposed to the more theory-heavy Tibetan Buddhism or the more yoga-centric Buddhism of India?
That’s certainly true of this sangha. We have a lot of artists here. Most Zen communities I’ve experienced have a strong artistic element.
Can you recommend one Zen artist or poet as a good introduction to the artistic creativity of Zen philosophy?
Definitely check out the Edo-era poet BashÅ. He was a great master of haiku. Also Ryokan, who was a late 18th- and early 19th-century Buddhist monk and hermit who revealed the essence of Zen life through poetry and calligraphy. And Hakuin Ekaku, a painter and calligraphist from the late 17th- and early 18th century who helped revive the Rinzai school of Zen. I really suggest going to the Japanese wing at the Metropolitan Museum of Art.
How is Zen meditation different from other meditation traditions?
The body, breath and mind are the foundation, the tripod, of Zen meditation. We do not do affirmations, mantras or Metta, a Theravada tradition that involves sending loving thoughts to others. We don’t imagine deities. We’re actually facing the wall. If someone says to me, “Oh, I’m starting to see something,” I’ll tell them, “Well maybe your posture isn’t right.”
It’s really more basic. More raw.
Absolutely. Ordinary. Plain water. No traces.
Some meditators recommend closed eyes so that you turn inward, some say half-closed so your mind doesn’t think it’s time to go to sleep. There’s also Hindu “fixed-gaze” technique of trataka in where the eyes are open and staring at a single point. Which technique do you teach?
We instruct eyes half-open, looking down. This prevents you from having hallucinations or sleepiness. In my experience, the wide-open technique tends to put too much strain on the eyes and they start to water. And you want your eyes relaxed.
Obviously a big part of meditation is about sitting. Can you explain walking meditation?
We do it all the time. We sit for half an hour and then the bell rings. We stand, and we do one of three different kinds of Zen walking meditation. There’s very slow walking, so you take a half-step with every full cycle of the breath. Talk about mindful. You have to be very aware, or you’ll start walking fast. It’s inhale, exhale, half a step, inhale, exhale, half a step. That was at the temple where I studied in Japan. And it was so fascinating; I’d see these guys across the hall and you never saw them move, but somehow, after five minutes, you’d look over and they were in a different location. It was so gradual, it was amazing.
Yes, very much so. It’s very Japanese. So we would do that for five minutes and then we’d hit the clappers a normal walking meditation. Now, when we go on retreat and we can go outside, sometimes we’ll lead the group out. But everybody follows one another in a line. And the third kind of walking meditation moves at a trot. We don’t do that very often. That’s a Rinzai style. But everyone does it at some point. If I feel things are getting really sleepy, I’ll say, “OK, let’s speed up now.”
I know several people who tried to incorporate meditation into their daily lives, but weren’t able to stick with it. What would you recommend to them?
In my experience, the only way to do it is to join a group. That is just it. And I’m not a “joiner” and I could never join groups, but it’s what I have learned through my own life experience and the people who have come. Maybe there are a few people who can sit on their own, but not very many. But when you come here, you agree to sit still for 30 minutes. You’re not going to get up and check you phone, because we won’t let you. We’ll say, “Sit down.” [laughs] What’s most important is to find a group, a place that where you like the people and the setting that will make you want to go and sit. That’s all it takes.
Stay tuned for the fourth and final installament of my chat with Roshi O’Hara, in which we talk about social justice, compassion and whether or not meditation can be used for evil ends. — Reynard Loki
ABOUT ROSHI PAT ENKYO O’HARA
Roshi Pat Enkyo O’Hara serves as Abbot of the Village Zendo. She received priest ordination from Maezumi Roshi and Dharma Transmission and Inka from Bernie Tetsugen Glassman. Roshi Enkyo’s lineage comes through Maezumi Roshi whose teaching was uncommon, bringing together Soto priest training and study of the Rinzai koan system. Moreover, Roshi Glassman’s focus on social engagement and peacemaking underlies much of her vision of Zen practice. Roshi is a Founding Teacher of the Zen Peacemaker Family, a spiritual and social action association. Roshi’s focus is on the expression of Zen through caring, service, and creative response. Her Five Expressions of Zen form the matrix of study at the Village Zendo: Meditation, Study, Communication, Action, and Caring.
ABOUT VILLAGE ZENDO
The Village Zendo is a community of people who come together to practice in the Soto Zen tradition. The Village Zendo offers zazen (sitting meditation), one-on-one instruction with a teacher, dharma talks, chanting services, retreats, workshops and study groups. Co-founded in 1986 by Roshi Pat Enkyo O’Hara and Sensei Barbara Joshin O’Hara, the Village Zendo is committed to authentically continuing the Zen tradition while keeping it contemporary and relevant to today’s world. The Village Zendo is located in lower Manhattan, offering a place of healing and sanctuary in the midst of one of the world’s busiest and most vital cities.
Q : Steve, can you tell us how did you implement elements of ZEN in your life and work?
SJ: For the past 33 years, I have looked in the mirror every morning and asked myself: ‘If today were the last day of my life, would I want to do what I am about to do today?’ And whenever the answer has been ‘No’ for too many days in a row, I know I need to change something.
Q: Would you agree with Yamamoto Tsunetomo, who wrote the following words in Hagakure, the Book of Samurai: “If by setting one’s heart right every morning and evening, one is able to live as though his body were already dead, he gains freedom in the Way. His whole life will be without blame, and he will succeed in his calling.”
SJ: Remembering that I’ll be dead soon is the most important tool I’ve ever encountered to help me make the big choices in life. Because almost everything – all external expectations, all pride, all fear of embarrassment or failure – these things just fall away in the face of death, leaving only what is truly important.
Q: Tsunetomo also writes: “Every morning a warrior should recommit himself to death. In morning meditation, see yourself killed in various ways, such as being shredded by arrows, bullets, swords, and spears, being swept away by a tidal wave, burned by fire, struck by lightening, dieing in a earthquake, falling from a great height, or succumbing to overwhelming sickness”. Isn’t it a bit too heavy shadow to live under?
SJ: No one wants to die. Even people who want to go to heaven don’t want to die to get there. And yet death is the destination we all share. No one has ever escaped it. And that is as it should be, because Death is very likely the single best invention of Life. It is Life’s change agent. It clears out the old to make way for the new.
Q: The only thing that doesn’t change is change itself?
SJ: Things don’t have to change the world to be important
Q: What is important?
SJ: Focus and simplicity. Simple can be harder than complex. You have to work hard to get your thinking clean to make it simple. But it’s worth it in the end because once you get there, you can move mountains.
Q: The beauty of Zen is also found in simplicity, tranquility and harmony. Meditation could be said to be the Art of Simplicity – simply sitting, simply breathing and simply being, says Dilgo Khyentse Rinpoche. Is this all what is needed?
SJ: If you don’t love something, you’re not going to go the extra mile, work the extra weekend, challenge the status quo as much. We don’t get a chance to do that many things, and every one should be really excellent. Because this is our life. Life is brief, and then you die, you know? So this is what we’ve chosen to do with our life.
Q: Not everybody can be so focused and single minded as you.
SJ: You’ve got to find what you love and that is true for works as it is for lovers. Your work is going to fill a large part of your life and the only way to be truly satisfied is to do what you believe is great work. And the only way to do great work is to love what you do. If you haven’t find it yet, keep looking and don’t settle. As with all matters of the heart, you’ll know when you’ve found it.
Q: It reminds me what ZEN master Dogen said: “If you can not find the truth right where you are, where else do you expect to find it?. Do you agree?
SJ: Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.
Q. Simplicity, heart and intuition. Is this a base of your personal system?
SJ: The system is that there is no system. That doesn’t mean we don’t have process. Process makes you more efficient.
Q: Do you believe in linear progress based on process?
SJ: I have a great respect for incremental improvement, and I’ve done that sort of thing in my life, but I’ve always been attracted to the more revolutionary changes. I don’t know why. Because they’re harder. They’re much more stressful emotionally. And you usually go through a period where everybody tells you that you’ve completely failed.
Q: How can you maintain such an attitude when everyone says that you failed?
SJ: You can’t connect the dots looking forward; you can only connect them looking backwards. So you have to trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. You have to trust in something – your gut, destiny, life, karma, whatever. This approach has never let me down, and it has made all the difference in my life.
Q: ZEN master Shunryu Suzuki said, that in Japan they use phrase shoshin, which means ”beginners mind”. The goal of practice is always to keep our beginners mind. Do you agree?
SJ: The heaviness of being successful was replaced by the lightness of being a beginner again — less sure about everything. It freed me to enter one of the most creative periods of my life.
Q: To be a beginner is the secret of all arts, but it seems to be against work based on skill and experience.
SJ: I think if you do something and it turns out pretty good, then you should go do something else wonderful, not dwell on it for too long. Just figure out what’s next. Let’s go invent tomorrow instead of worrying about what happened yesterday.