For a long time now, I’ve embraced the Zen concept of shoshin (or beginner’s mind). The notion is simple. When approaching any subject, do so with the openness and enthusiasm of a novice, leaving aside preconceptions and prejudices. Basically, forget what you know — or think you know — and start from the beginning.

I’ve been reminded of this notion while working on my project to interpret (not translate but interpret) the Tao Te Ching for my own personal benefit. The Tao often uses children and newborn as metaphors. But this morning I got a stark lesson in the need for beginner’s mind in real life.

This year, I’ve been focused on fitness. In the past when I’ve tried to get fit, I’ve been overly attuned to my weight. As a result, I lose weight but struggle to keep it off. I reach my goal (usually about 170 pounds) then, because I don’t have a new goal, I gradually regain all that I’d lost. My problem, I know, is that I’m too centered on the results instead of building good habits. (This is similar to folks who get out of debt but can’t stay out of debt because they focused on the outcome rather than the process.)

So, while I’m certainly tracking outcomes this year, they’re not where my attention has been directed. Instead, I’ve been teaching myself to make smart choices with regards to food and fitness. I’m losing weight much more slowly than past efforts. Three times in my life, I’ve lost 50 pounds in six months. Right now, I’m down only 25 pounds in nine months. The difference, though, is that nothing I’ve done feels onerous. I’m not starving myself. I’m not working out like a maniac. I’ve made small changes that feel natural to me, and I’ve never felt deprived.

My exercise has largely consisted of two activities: lifting weights and walking.

I love to walk, so it hasn’t taken a lot of willpower to do more of it. I’ve simply elected to walk when normally I might drive. I walk the 0.9 miles to the grocery store, for instance, or the 2.7 miles to downtown Corvallis. I don’t do this every time — I won’t do it when I run errands today, for instance — but when time, weather, and mood allow, I make it a priority.

I don’t love lifting weights, but I do love the results. Lifting makes me feel strong and confident. But lifting is hard. It’s difficult. It takes effort. Sometimes it’s frustrating. Still, I’ve put in that effort and I’ve enjoyed great results. It took me six months to reach a level of strength that required two years of progress back in 2011-2013. It pleased me to no end that at age 54 I could match (and sometimes beat!) personal bests I’d set at age 44.

But the problem with lifting is that it’s hard on my body. The squats hurt my knees. (In theory, they shouldn’t hurt if I have good form. In reality, even when I’m laser-focused on form, the knees still hurt.) Any kind of overhead press — military press, bench press, whatever — hurts my shoulders. Pull-ups hurt my shoulders. Push-ups hurt my shoulders. Lunges really hurt my knees.

I want to lift weights, but I feel like I need to take a break and find some other fitness activity that is less stressful on my body.

Enter swimming.

Our gym has two pools. One is a small, warm pool for water aerobics classes. The other is a 25-yard, five-lane lap pool. They both get plenty of use from members.

I don’t mind swimming, but I tend to hesitate making it part of a fitness program. I know that it’s a difficult, frustrating experience when done for exercise and not for fun. Back in 1997, when I first lost a bunch of weight, I made swimming a regular part of my workouts once I’d reached 170 pounds. And that’s part of the mental barrier I currently have. I’m at 190 pounds and feel like I’m twenty pounds away from being able to swim.

To me, swimming is the peak exercise activity. It’s as if there’s a pyramid of exercise based on difficulty and fitness. At the bottom is walking, which is generally easy for everyone. (I’m old enough now to realize that some folks struggle with it, but for most people it’s the base of the exercise pyramid.) Above walking are stretching exercises and yoga. Above those are weight lifting. Above lifting is running. And above running is swimming. (This is my personal exercise pyramid; yours might be different.)

Because I have this mental construct, I tend to put off trying to swim until I’m near peak fitness. I’ve been doing that all year. Kim has been prodding me to swim, but I’ve been resisting. “I’ll swim once I’m below 180,” I tell her. Or, “I can’t swim until I can run a 5k without resting.” Stuff like that.

This is silly, right? Especially now that I’ve realized my knees and shoulders are in shoddy shape. If I think swimming will benefit me — and it will — then I need to go swim.

So, this morning that’s what I did. I got up at 6:30, like I always do, and I went to the gym. I told myself that even if all I did was familiarize myself with the swimming facilities, that’d be a win. And that’s what I did.

I walked around and looked at the pools. I felt the water temperature. I checked out the hot tubs. I went into the steam room. And then, since I was already there, I got in the pool and I swam. (This is a trick that I’ve learned: If I tell myself that all I have to do is go to the gym to succeed for the day, I’ll usually do some exercise once I’m there.)

I didn’t swim far. In fact, I only swam four laps (or 100 yards). But I swam. And I would have done more but man oh man, my form sucks. I remember now that when I was swimming 25 years ago, it took me a long time to figure out proper breathing and form. At first, I felt like I was flailing around. And I struggled to catch my breath. Well, the same was true today. Perhaps more so. My first two laps were okay, but the last two were crazy hard.

I’m not discouraged, though. Instead, I’m practicing shoshin, beginner’s mind. I swam four laps today. I’ll swim six laps tomorrow. And before I swim those six laps, I will read (and watch videos) about proper form and breathing. I will be patient. I will forget what I know (or think I know) and learn from scratch. I will practice. And in time — probably less time than I think — I’ll be able to swim greater distances.

On my way out this morning, I stopped at the front desk to leave a note for the gym’s swimming instructor. I asked her if she’d consider giving private adult swim lessons for a fee. I think it’d benefit me to take three or four classes with somebody so that I could get the basics down.

It may be that this is just a temporary whim, but I hope not. I feel like swimming could be a beneficial tool in my exercise arsenal. It could, especially, be an important skill as I grow older. I want to learn how to swim effectively, and to do that I need to forget what I know and adopt a beginner’s mind.