The Spirit of Beginning

My new copy of Zen Guitar finally arrived today, and if I'm not careful I'll read it too quickly, which seems in conflict with the spirit of zen. Or perhaps it's a book that is constantly picked up and put down no matter how many times it's been read completely. 

In any case, I like it and am encouraged by Sudo's take on beginnings and beginners:

No matter how adept you are with the guitar already, wearing the white belt means you have agreed to set aside all knowledge and preconceptions and open your mind to learning as though for the first time.

In zen circles this attitude is called carrying an empty cup. It stems from an oft-repeated parable about the visit of a university professor to the home of a nineteenth-century zen Master named Nan-in. The professor had come to inquire about zen but in conversation, he spent more time talking than listening. In response, Nan-in began pouring the professor's tea until it flowed out of the cup and onto the table.

"What are you doing!" the professor exclaimed.

"Like this cup, you are full of your own ideas," replied the master. "How can I teach you unless you first empty your cup?"

When we empty our cup, we agree to rid ourselves of the preconceptions that block new learning. This is the attitude of the true beginner, the mind required to know Zen Guitar.

See? Being an absolute beginner is kind of cool. At least my cup is well and truly empty.