Shoshin
How a Beginner's Mind can transform your travels and your lifeWhen I first moved to the outskirts of Kobe, Japan, I didn’t know the name for it—but I was already practicing Shoshin. Every grocery trip felt like a scavenger hunt. I’d fumble through handwritten signs (in Japanese), inspect unfamiliar produce with the curiosity of an alien botanist, and overthink a simple bow at the post office. But through all the awkwardness came wonder. I was paying attention. I was learning—constantly. And more importantly, I was open.
Later, during a quiet afternoon at a local temple, I heard the word that put it all into perspective: Shoshin (初心). A Zen Buddhist concept, it translates to “beginner’s mind.” This isn’t just for when you’re new to something, or somewhere–that’s when it comes naturally. It’s about approaching anything—even, or especially, what you’ve done a thousand times—with fresh eyes, curiosity, and humility. And it turns out, that is a practice for a lifetime.
What is Shoshin?
At its core, Shoshin means letting go of the illusion that we’ve figured it all out. That might sound frustrating, but it’s actually freeing. Instead of dragging around the baggage of assumptions and autopilot reactions, we step into each moment with:
- Openness: Releasing judgment and allowing space for surprise.
- Eagerness: Cultivating genuine curiosity, even when revisiting familiar things.
- Lack of preconceptions: Letting go of the “I already know this” mindset to make room for deeper learning.
Imagine reading a book you’ve loved for years and discovering something entirely new on the tenth read. Or sitting in a meeting and genuinely listening to a colleague’s opinion—even if you think you already know what they’re going to say. That’s Shoshin in action.
Why It Matters
In a world obsessed with mastery and expertise, Shoshin invites us to loosen our grip on being “right” and remember what it feels like to wonder. It reminds us that we don’t have to know everything to engage meaningfully. In fact, not knowing—when embraced with grace—can be the most powerful tool for growth, creativity, and connection.
It can also help soften our inner critic. When we give ourselves permission to start fresh, mistakes become part of the process, not a sign of failure.
When Curiosity Closes the Door: The Opposite of Shoshin
If Shoshin is the mindset of “What can I learn here?”, its opposite is more like “I already know everything I need to know—thanks.” And let me tell you, I’ve met that version of myself a few times. She shows up when I’m tired, overconfident, or just plain cranky.
Like the time I confidently ordered what I thought was soba in a Tokyo train station noodle bar—only to discover (mid-slurp) that it was natto soba. Fermented soybeans. Slippery, stringy, and exactly the kind of surprise that demands beginner’s mind. Instead, I spent the next ten minutes mentally grumbling about textures, while the smiling man beside me was clearly enjoying his with delight. He asked if I was American. I nodded, still chewing. “Most foreigners don’t like natto,” he said with a shrug. “But sometimes, the second time is better.”
Touché, noodle guy. Shoshin lost that round.
That’s the thing with a closed mindset—it doesn’t leave a lot of room for magic, mistakes, or the chance to be pleasantly surprised. It says: “Nope, I’ve got this,” even when life’s whispering, “Maybe try again.”
When we slip into that fixed way of thinking, a few things tend to happen:
- We shrink our world: A closed mindset narrows our perspective. Instead of seeing new viewpoints or trying something different, we dig in our heels. That rigidity can feel comforting at first—like sticking to your usual coffee order because it’s “safe.” But over time, it makes us less adaptable and more stressed when something inevitably changes.
- We resist change—and it resists us back: Whether it’s a new job, a travel plan gone sideways, or a friend offering feedback we didn’t ask for, change tends to poke at the parts of us that crave control. A closed mindset braces for impact, while Shoshin says, “Let’s see what happens.” Spoiler alert: one of those is more fun.
- We miss the invitation: Not being open means we don’t even see the opportunity. That class you skipped because you thought you’d be terrible at pottery? The neighbor you avoided chatting with because you assumed you had nothing in common? Those could have been stories. Lessons. Or even lifelong memories.
- We talk down to ourselves: A closed mindset isn’t just judgmental outwardly—it can be brutal inwardly, too. The voice that says, “You’re too old to try that,” or “You’re not good with languages,” or “Why even bother?” isn’t just discouraging—it’s heavy. It keeps us from stepping outside our comfort zones and celebrating progress over perfection.
- We put strain on our relationships: When we hold on too tightly to being “right,” we leave little room for understanding someone else’s view. Over time, this creates distance, miscommunication, and a lot of missed chances to connect more deeply.
- And finally—we get stuck: Without flexibility, it becomes harder to bounce back from the unexpected. And let’s be honest—life is full of the unexpected. A beginner’s mind doesn’t prevent the chaos, but it does make us better at riding the waves.
The truth is, we all drift into closed-mind mode now and then. It’s human. The goal isn’t to be perfectly open all the time—it’s to notice when we’re tightening the reins and gently loosen our grip. Shoshin doesn’t ask you to unlearn everything; it just asks you to show up like you’re still learning. Because you are. We all are.
Next time you catch yourself shutting down or shutting out, try asking: What don’t I know yet?
Sometimes, that one question is enough to crack the window open again.
How to Practice Shoshin in Daily Life
Whether you’re sipping tea in Kyoto or doing laundry in Kentucky, the beginner’s mind can be your constant companion. Here are a few ways to invite it in:
- Practice mindfulness: Meditation or simple breath awareness helps you notice what’s really happening, not just what you expect to happen.
- Take a different route: Literally or metaphorically. Shake up your routines. Eat with your non-dominant hand. Try learning something completely new—like a language, a dance style, or how to fix your own plumbing (safely).
- Ask questions—especially the “obvious” ones: Curiosity isn’t childish; it’s courageous.
- Read “Zen Mind, Beginner’s Mind” by Shunryu Suzuki: A thoughtful introduction to the Zen perspective and how Shoshin can reshape how we experience the world.
- Find joy in small details: Watch how the light shifts during the day, or notice how someone’s tone softens when they feel heard.
- Try creative play: Paint, doodle, cook without a recipe—anything that puts you in a flow state without needing to “succeed.”
- Seek guidance: A teacher or mentor can offer new perspectives and help you challenge your mental ruts.
Shoshin as a Travel Practice
One of the most beautiful things about travel is that it invites Shoshin organically. You don’t know how to buy a bus ticket? Great. You’ll learn. You don’t recognize the food on your plate? Perfect. Your senses will be on high alert. Every sound, smell, and interaction becomes a potential teacher.
But Shoshin isn’t just for new countries and languages—just the opposite—as when you’re in a new place, Shoshin comes more easily. The real challenge, or invitation, is to bring that openness back home—with your relationships, your work, and even your own beliefs. It’s one thing to be a beginner in Japan. It’s another to be a beginner in your own kitchen, neighborhood, or worldview.
Curious to try Shoshin?
Shoshin is a mindset you grow into, rather than out of—it takes a bit of practice to always be a beginner! If you’re navigating a new culture or revisiting an old routine, approaching life with a beginner’s mind keeps you humble, present, and engaged. Shoshin reminds us that there’s wisdom in starting fresh—even if it’s not your first time around the block. It’s a practice of presence, a softening of certainty, and an invitation to pay attention. You don’t need incense or a meditation cushion to try it—just curiosity and a willingness to see things with fresh eyes.
So whether you’re halfway around the world or right in your own kitchen, stay open. Forget what you think you know. Ask questions. Look for new ways of doing something. Be willing to begin again. That’s the path of Shoshin—and that’s how wonder finds its way in.