A case for sucking.

Wabi-sabi is a philosophy which has its roots in Zen Buddhism, emphasising transience.

Impermanence.

The non-existance of it all.

And therefore in wabi-sabi the beauty is extracted from the imperfect. The moss-covered stones in a garden. The wonkiness of an asymmetrical arrangement of cherry blossoms and irises. But there is another philisophical principal derived from the same zen buddhist school that I find equally as helpful when understanding not only crafts like kintsugi, but your own creative practice.

This is the concept of beginner’s mind.

Beginner’s mind is about skirting your own ego or idea of what things should be, and opening up to more possibility. This can apply to any situation where creative problem solving is at play. For instance, when I work through a project like a ceramic repair now, I tend to know what materials to reach for, and how to apply them to get the result that I would like. You could call this the opposite of beginner’s mind. There’s an ease to ‘knowing’ certain things. And I think it’s why we try to rush towards mastery. Because frankly not knowing is uncomfortable. Being a little baby yearling wobbling on two unsteady legs feels vulnerable, and we want to get to the galloping part as soon as possible.

But you know what… some of my best discoveries came very early in the process of learning repair. Times when no one was there to take to tool out of my hand and direct me on exactly how to do something. I carved my own path doing things kinda wrongly, and in some cases failing miserably. some of my best discoveries happened during these failures.

I cannot recommend it enough.

So the wider question is: what might shift in our creative processes and our lives if we weren’t so afraid of failure? If we imagined more often that we were doing something for the very first time?

SHOSHIN - Beginner’s Mind

“In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert’s there are few.”

This quote from Shunryu Suzuki is used a lot - perhaps overused - to describe our relationship to just starting out. Or at least our ideal conception of just starting out. We would like to think that in our beginner’s mind we are brimming with possibility. Cannot wait to get down to business, tools eagerly in hand. Thinking of all the ways we can creatively tackle that brand new project. Nothing intimidating here. No sir.

But that isn´t how it often plays out. I see it all the time when teaching people something brand new. The fear. The deep inside voice telling you all the ways it go wrong, instead of all the ways it could go right.

But beginner’s mind allows us to say: I wonder if…

I confront this often enough in the studio. Where my very own knowledge sometimes gets directly in the way of coming up with a new creative solution. I have as hard a time as you do of letting go of what I think I know, and embracing just being new at something. Or at the very least, pretending I’m brand new at something. But then I have to remind myself…

Creativity + risk + failure = art

Beginner’s mind not only can help you find the permission to try something brand new, but to see with fresh eyes the things you think you already know by heart. It can help us soften the ego’s grip on the outcome, and fall in love with experimentation. With mastery there can be a certain stagnation. A loss of that new relationship energy cultivated by fresh experiences and the growth of new skills. If that’s you, here are 4 helpful ways you can begin being a beginner again.

Start with Curiosity, Not Expectation

Let go of how something should be in the end. We rarely get to dictate how a project will end up. There are always variables. I certainly need to take my own advice in this regard, as even the workshops I teach weekly in kintsugi repair roll out like clockwork. I am so deeply committed to giving everyone the best possible experience, that I want to remove as much friction as possible. But sometimes I have to remind myself to stop being a helicopter mom. To let people make their own mistakes, because those are just as valuable as the successes, I would argue more so. In this sprit, next time you’re trying something new like attending one of our beginner’s kintsugi sessions (totally shameless plug) try to drop expectations of what should be. What the final product should look like. Just allow things to flow, while observing how the materials behave, how the object responds. What happens if I just try this?

Change Your Tools or Medium

Oh guys, I love this one. This is pulled straight from my fine art degree. What if you did a 5-minute drawing using a stick and ink instead of a pencil? What if you painted with your left hand instead of your right? What if you cooked a meal using only ingredients you have never heard of before? There is a lot of psychology behind why this works so effectively to disrupt autopilot in your process - but let me just say from experience that it does. This is especially true if you are reaching outside of the comfort zone of your usual discipline. Maybe you gravitate towards writing, so try painting. Maybe you love knitting, so try stained glass.

I have never tried a new thing and not had it positively impact not only my other practices, but my every day life. Your view becomes more expansive when you play outside your usual sandbox.

Create with Constraints

When I’m not in the repair studio, I turn to painting and drawing. And sometimes when I come back to painting after being away from it for a while, a bit of overwhelm can set in. Limiting your choices of direction can really crack open a sense of competence again, just when you’re feeling a bit wrung-out and idea-less. One of my favourite strategies is to give myself a challenge. Pull out watercolours or inks, for instance, and do a one-colour painting of anything (or nothing, it can be abstract) for only 10 minutes. This is another little psychology trick that works like a charm. Sometimes we feel like if you get your materials out, you need to dedicate hours to work on something otherwise its not worth it. This is absolutely not true. Duke Ellington famously wrote some of his most iconic songs riding the 15 minute train to his mother’s house (possibly somewhat apocryphal, but a great example nonetheless) . And the funny thing is, I have made some of my favourite work in 10 minutes, standing at the workbench in between other more ‘important’ work.

Teach What You Know to a Beginner

This is one that I take very much to heart, and I would love to write a separate post about this topic alone. Nothing will help you parse apart what you know about something like needing to explain it to a total novice. And let me tell you, it has expanded my knowledge immensely. In fact, it’s the reason I push myself to release new classes each year. Mainly because it motivates me to gather everything I know about something and make it digestible for a new audience. Seeing something through new eyes is one of the best ways to remember the basics, while highlighting where you might need to fill in a few gaps. Remember, it’s not about knowing everything. The beauty is in the seeking, we don’t ever need to know it all. But we also underestimate just how much we actually do know about something. So whether its gardening, or excel spreadsheets, take your expertise and find a willing victim. You will both benefit.

For me, being a life-long learner is the thing. Beginner’s mind is a forever practice, weaving between finding the confidence of accumulating knowledge, which can feel great, and getting more comfortable with not knowing. You don’t need to be an actual beginner to adopt the beginner’s mindset. You can approach every new activity with the eyes of a newbie, and see how it expands your creativity.

So, what would you create today if you forgot everything you knew?

Lots of love,

T.S.C.

Embracing Beginner’s Mind