Zanshin: The Evolution of Mindfulness

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Z A N S H I N

by Dick Morgan

                                        The Evolution of Mindfulness

        I was out for a walk yesterday along a route that takes me past the neighborhood light-rail stop. Most days a steady stream of colorful people pass to and from its approaches. I like to think I am a keen observer of people, and an astute judge of character based on people's appearance, gait, demeanor, and eye contact. It is part of my martial arts training: threat assessment, adversarial size-up, safety zones, exit strategy. When I pass through crowds of people, I am continuously practicing these strategic mental exercises. I have been practicing this for fifty years; it is a completely automatic, almost subconscious exercise. I'd like to think after all this time, I'd be pretty good at it; I'd be wrong.

        I'm walking along, looking at people as they pass me; here's a pretty young girl with pigtails and tattoos, a free spirit and no threat to me. Here's a humongous giant of a man in a serapé, size alone would make him a formidable opponent. Fortunately, he appears to be passing by with no eye contact. Here's a beggar with his hand out. I give him a buck. Here's a young adult black man, leather coat, head band, raggedy shoes. Cocky, jaunty walk with his head bobbing up and down. And now he's looking at me. What does he want? How many steps is he from striking distance? Alert! His hands are coming out of his pockets!

        This black guy smiles, salutes me, and says, “How you doing, Captain?” I'm wearing my Greek fisherman's hat with my Vietnam ribbons on the brim, and it looks a bit like the scrambled egg designs of a Navy captain's hat. I was so taken aback by that, by the time I figured out what he meant and turn to thank him, he was gone. I had assessed him largely by profile, and I had been completely wrong. It was a realization that my mental processes were stuck in a rut.

        I am sure my martial viewpoint is indelible to a certain degree, that I will always think strategically. I will always have a defense plan. I carry four knives, after all. But now, without martial arts practice echoing fresh in my mind, I begin to view situations around me without as much defensiveness. Since I have stopped going to practice, I am beginning to realize that my consciousness is shifting. My mindfulness is beginning to become aware of different challenges, different goals, different ethics. I am learning that the dichotomies automatically assumed in martial practice-- good and bad, friend or enemy, win or lose-- are all artificial mental constructs, and many times blind us to deeper truths. I am learning the value of projecting peace and good will instead of toughness and invulnerability. I am learning to quiet the mind so that I can listen better with the heart.

        I can relate to people on a more humane level. Instead of adversarial posturing, there is a celebration of equality and sharing. There is a new feeling of connectedness, an almost joyous unity. I feel my spirit expanding in a new way, not yet envisioned when I wrote Warrior Mind. I am surprised by this shift in my mindful practice, and thankful at the same time. I am looking into the future with more anticipation, and more joy.

         Merry Christmas.

                                       One forest, many trees.

                                       One tree, many branches.

                                       One branch, many leaves.

                                                                     (--unknown)

                                                  Namasté.