Some things are just too much trouble as we age. My parents wouldn’t get an answering machine until I bought one for them and insisted that I would teach them how to use it. As they aged and had more incidents of serious illness, and as I moved across the country, I needed to be able to talk to them and to get updates on their needs. They didn’t want to know about the internet. Ditto the ATM machine, let alone online banking.
Now that I am past the age when my father died, I begin to have some of the same reactions. I am gritting my teeth as I learn Zoom, the video and audio meeting room of choice in this time of social distancing. I had only passing acquaintance with Adobe Connect, one of Zoom’s predecessors, even though I taught online graduate courses for 12 years, and needed to speak to my students frequently. I blessed the ease of Facetime when I went to Spain for six weeks last year, as I could see and talk to my husband every day that I was gone. In fact, one of my travel mates asked me toward the end of the trip if I missed my husband. I had to think. Did I miss him when I saw him every day?
Some things we learn come easily. For me, trying a new recipe, learning a new app on my phone and exploring new trails in our regional park are in this category. Some things are so much more difficult! I know how to do many things on my computer and am comfortable extending my learning in areas where I already feel comfortable, but Zoom is not one of those areas. I’m learning to draw as any casual reader of this series must already know. If I have no anxiety about becoming an artist because I don’t expect to be, then my exploration and curiosity are just pure pleasure.
If, however, I do have anxiety, as I do about Zoom, then I’m into some kind of crazy pursuit of perfection. It isn’t enough that I can start a meeting and manage the simple parts of it (making sure everyone’s camera is on, ditto their audio, and that we don’t all talk at once), I have to be deft at other more sophisticated parts of the program, and I’m not, yet.
In Zen Buddhism, openness to new learning is called Shoshin or Beginner’s Mind. We are open to new experiences. We are actively curious and willing to have our minds changed. We are patient with ourselves as we explore something new. We don’t shut ourselves off because the learning may be hard.
How do we cultivate this state of mind?
Free our minds of negative self-talk. (Example: By meditating, breathing deeply for 5–10 breaths, or consciously stepping into the new thing without preconceptions, I will feel less anxiety.)
Free our minds from expectations about what will happen. (Example: I know I will fail and make a fool of myself.)
Fill our minds with curiosity by asking questions, exploring new aspects, experimenting with approaches (Example: In what ways will this learning enhance my capabilities, my relationships, or some other important aspect of my life?)
Ask ourselves what is possible. (Example: If I gained confidence in this new pursuit or area of learning, how would it simplify my life or make it more joyful?)
I already know that becoming capable as a Zoom host will enable me to renew my passion for teaching and learning with others. I know because I have participated in several Zoom groups where our exchanges are lively and our relationships are strengthened by this electronic exposure. So I’ll take a deep breath (or 5) and embark on my Zoom tutorial for today.
