Last year during our hiking trip, P. and I collected some black bean seeds to plant in the backyard. P. started juggling with three seeds (yes, they are big enough for juggling). I had never juggled three before and found it very impressive. P. then handed the seeds to me and encouraged me to give it a try. To my surprise, I managed to juggle the 3 seeds on the first try! I was in awe while P. jokingly said “I was trying to impress you, but looks like it didn’t work” :)).

Perhaps it was a side effect of sitting in silence for 10 days at Rasmi. At that time, I was in a state of inner peace. There was no trace of expectations when I began juggling the black bean seeds. I simply let my hands do all the work while my mind remained calm. This somehow reminded me of a Ted Talk by Andy Puddicombe “All it takes is 10 mindful minutes”. Later that day, P. gifted me four juggling balls to practice with while I was packing my luggage for my trip up north. The black beans have been growing well in P.’s garden, but the juggling balls still sit in the draw.

Also last year, when I was in a lovely little town down south, one morning after my meditation on the yoga deck, I sat quietly watching the first rays of the sun dance on the wooden floor. Nathan came in out of nowhere and, without me asking, handed me his guitar. He said “My Zen teacher said playing guitar could be a great meditation tool. Give it a try”.

I have a love-hate relationship with guitars. When I was 19, I quit my guitar class after the first day, making many excuses: the class was too far away, I was too busy with uni, and I felt too old to learn (I was the only adult in the class except for the teacher). I bought my first guitar from my humble savings as a student and started teaching myself how to play. Then I quit. Then I picked it up again. Then I quit again. This cycle continued on and on.

Recently, I realized I quit the guitar because I had so many expectations for myself. I wanted to play it well, and when my expectations weren’t met, I got disappointed and gave up. Perhaps I should use the guitar as a way to practice mindfulness, to practice surrendering and letting go of my expectations. I don’t need to master it. I just need to let my fingers caress the guitar strings, make friends with them, and let them play their own tunes. I just need to be fully present with all there is. Because all it takes is being mindful.