Guitar Lessons Chapter 6: Believe Nothing
The next excerpt from a novel in progress
Teacher agreed to take me on as a student. And during our time together, he told me many things that at first seemed impractical and strange, even absurd. He was also prone to lecturing and often critical of my playing.
And yet some of the things that Teacher said instantly resonated with me, as if he were articulating my own half-formed thoughts. Above all, I sensed that everything he told me was connected, part of a larger, living system — a body of ideas that pulsed and breathed.
In recalling our lessons, it’s possible that I’ve forgotten or unintentionally distorted some of Teacher’s ideas. He didn’t allow me to take notes, and he never wrote anything down.
But there is one teaching that I recall with absolute clarity and can reliably pass along to you: Accept nothing on faith. Teacher told me this many times.
“Test everything that I tell you,” he said to me during one of our first lessons. “Don’t believe a single word. Some of the things I will tell you are simple and straightforward. But other ideas have many levels and can only be revealed in stages — first principles, then examples, then exceptions. Still other things I say purely for effect, to test your understanding. to observe your reactions. These things may or may not be true.”
I frowned. “Really? Is all this truly necessary? Why bother with all that? Why not get straight to the point?”
Teacher shook his head. “No, this is not acceptable. Your questions come from all your years of schooling, which turned you into a machine. You learned how to memorize facts and follow orders. All that is useless. Starting right now, believe nothing. Test everything. What eventually survives will help you stay serene in the midst of chaos.”
“You really want me to forget everything I know, to give up all my beliefs? You’re talking about starting all over again from the beginning.”
“Yes,” Teacher said. “This is precisely what you asked for.”
“But I cannot imagine becoming a pure blank slate. I cannot imagine a life without beliefs. Everyone needs to believe in something.”
“That is pure delusion. Beliefs are completely beside the point. Life unfolds with no reference to your beliefs. Gravity works whether you believe it or not. Besides, once you believe something, you can’t think about it. You assume a fixed position. You stop learning.”
I opened my mouth to object but had nothing to say.
“Playing the guitar is a completely empirical process,” Teacher said. “The true test is this: Does what I say help you to erase the obstacles that stand between you and the guitar? What I’m looking for is absolute oneness between the person and the instrument, when the process of playing guitar then becomes as natural as speaking. There is no gap between a musical idea and its expression. The instrument disappears and there is simply….”
Teacher raised his right hand into the air and took a deep breath. The sentence remained unfinished.
“To reach that stage, he added, “you must test, test, test. You must remain open-minded and skeptical at the same time. Only in this way will you discover what actually opens you to oneness.”
“Would it help if I played Devil’s advocate?” I asked. “You present me with an idea and I make the case for its opposite — just for the sake of argument?”
“No,” said Teacher. “Drop this idea immediately. You are not even remotely capable of this. What I’m asking for is completely different.”
Teacher closed his eyes and stopped talking for a few seconds, searching for a word. “It’s more like dwelling inside an idea,” he said, making eye contact with me again. “You stand inside the idea. You notice how the world looks from that vantage point. You neither agree nor disagree. You are simply being with the idea for a while. In this you become a true beginner, open to possibility.”
“You’re talking about beginner’s mind. I already know about that.”
Teacher laughed out loud. “This is another one of your obstacles,” he said, “and it is completely invisible to you — your belief that you already understand what I’m saying. You fail to recognize when you are actually hearing something for the first time. In this way you remain asleep.”
I frowned. “I’m not asleep. I’ve played the guitar for as long as I can remember. I know a lot of tunes. I’ve memorized chords and scales. I spent years acquiring all that information.”
“And, you are so deeply attached to it,” Teacher said. “In this way you are exactly like everyone else who comes to study with me. The first thing I encounter is the concrete wall of your entrenched beliefs. I see them encoded in your body, in the lifeless way that you stand, breathe, speak, and move. When I present a new idea, I see your resistance take physical form. Trying to change that is like trying to housebreak a dinosaur.”
After this exchange we sat in silence for several minutes — a fitful meditation — until Teacher stood up and walked out of the room.
It was the way that many of our lessons ended.
Well said! I see myself in this fixed position as I am hunting to find someone to help me with painting. I keep saying I know that already but maybe I don't. Thanks for this chapter.
Love the Teacher character coming into view. Curious to see where it leads….