The first time I was formally introduced to the concept was in relation to my martial arts training. During a seminar, I believe we were told “in order to learn, you need to be willing to make mistakes”. At the time, I probably thought I knew what that meant, but what I’m finding is that only recently is it really starting to fall into place. In recent training, I have been deconstructing techniques that I thought I knew, and approaching them with a fresh perspective.

I also connect this with another pursuit of mine, my training as a private pilot. When I was preparing for my checkride my instructor told me, “No matter what happens, you’ll come out of this checkride with a license. It will either be a white pilot’s license, or a pink license to learn.” I think from that point on, I looked at tests very different. A test is no longer the end point, but rather the beginning of the next phase of learning.

Now the question is, is there a difference between the “beginner’s mind” and an “open mind”. I think so, but feel free to comment with your thoughts. The distinction I draw is that a beginner’s mind is applied to free the mind of any preconceived notions in order to learn, whereas an open mind is one which has a wealth of knowledge and experience to draw from, but is open to all options in order to act.

As I was riding the train to work, I popped a quick status update on Facebook:

Felt good to explain to Benjamin why today is a holiday, and who Dr. Martin Luther King is. Hopefully we take another small step to fully achieving his dream with each generation.

Nothing earth-shattering. But after I posted it, I noticed my choice of verb. Even though Dr. King died in 1968, my mind considered him still in the present. I used is, the present tense of the verb “to be”. And that seemed to make sense to me. You can point to a time before a person lives, when they are living, and after they have lived. When someone has died is a specific event, a certain point in time. But the verb “to be” is different, in a sense it speaks to the spirit of a person. Even after they have died, they still exist in memories, photos, letters, descendants, even Facebook posts.

The same thing happened to me recently after my sister passed away a couple months ago, shortly before Thanksgiving. At a gathering with my wife’s family, someone asked me if I had any brothers or sisters. Instinctively, my first thought was, “Yes, an older sister and a younger brother.” I paused just a second, because I wasn’t sure that was still an accurate answer. But my next thought was, “Yes, I have an older sister and a younger brother.” Even though my sister has died she was, is, and always will be my older sister.

It brings just a touch of comfort. That instead of thinking of death as an extinguishing event, to continue to think of a person in the present, in terms of who they are and a continuing impact that they can have on life.

Spring term, senior year in Aerospace Engineering at Syracuse University was a rough place to be. I was taking 7 classes, including Thermo 2 and Rocket Propulsion (an “elective” with the Dean of Aerospace). I was in the second half of Aerospace Design, which was a year-long course required of Aero students in which each student was required to complete the design of a 150 passenger commercial jet. Most of them ended up looking very much like a Boeing 737. In addition, I was also working 2 different work-study jobs; dining hall supervisor and overnight dorm security. I was also required to take Aerospace Propulsion with Dr. T. Q. Dang.

I remember the first day of class, Dr. Dang diagrammed the internals of the engines on the SR71 Blackbird. The SR71 Blackbird utilizes a ramjet at supersonic speeds, but a more conventional jet turbine engine at subsonic speeds. I was fascinated. This was real stuff, this was where theory left the pavement and took flight. But it was also just the beginning. Propulsion was no joke. But what I remember of the course was Dr. Dang’s ability to make the very complex information accessible, even to a student such as myself with no spare braincells.

I showed up one Thursday morning for class (8:30am), after working a double shift of dorm security the night before. I had probably slept no more than 6 hours since the class on Tuesday morning. I had a cup of coffee, but I fully expected to struggle to stay awake. Quite the opposite! I was riveted by Dr. Dang’s lecture on force triangles within the turbine section of an engine. Everything was making sense, it was “flow”. And it seemed as if he was lecturing just to me.

Again though, the reality of it was, I was taking far too many courses to do well in all of them. By the time finals came around, I was failing the class on the basis of homeworks (though my projects and quizzes were reasonable). The grading was heavily weighted to the final exam. We were told on the first day of class the final exam would have 4 questions, and we were told the answer to one of them. So I walked into the final expecting I had one question locked up. Problem was, Dr. Dang left that question off. I had a reasonable grasp of 3 questions. On the fourth, I was stumped. I ended up starting from Newton’s third law, and deriving the entire solution from the raw fundamentals. But I still needed to pass Aero Propulsion in order to graduate. I went to graduation practice not knowing if I would actually have the grades to walk. Went from graduation practice to Dr. Dang’s office to find my performance on the final exam had pulled my grade up (almost to an A, I think). I might have hugged Dr. Dang, I know he could tell how excited I was. This was the last hurdle in my 4 year quest to call myself an Aerospace Engineer.

Richard Reeve asked a follow-on question, “What makes for an exceptional teacher?” which I didn’t get a chance to respond to. But to me, Dr. Dang was exceptional.

1. He saw I had the potential
2. He made sure he got through to me
3. He didn’t cut me any breaks
4. He celebrated my triumphs with me
5. He probably never realized the difference he made

That is the rest of the story behind my most memorable class and the exceptional teacher who taught it.

My first car was a 1977 white Mustang II that I had in high school. An amazing piece of crap, leaked oil like Exxon Valdez. But it had doors that were about 9 inches thick and made of pretty solid metal. Came in handy when I bounced off a cement truck. Fast forward almost 20 (yikes) years. I now drive a Ford Mustang GT, perfect for going for a drive to the coast.

So packed everything up and hopped in the car. The great thing about where I live is that I can get to the ocean in less than 45 minutes. I end up on the patio of a coffee shop in Tiverton RI, right on the water. You know it’s a good coffee shop when the dark roast is called Honduran Hero. It was a good “airing out”…

Now, back to my oars…Red Sox game in an hour!

It was so cool, I thought, I want to go find and see the Joshua Tree. It’s not shown on the album cover (I checked to be sure). Nobody told me there was more than just one…way more…

Fast forward to the late 90′s. I’m a software engineer, and I end up with a consulting job in Los Angeles. I spent 3 weeks out of every month there for about a year and a half. My wife was not thrilled. But, I did get to do a lot of hiking and general wandering about SoCal, up to SF to visit a longtime friend, out to San Bernadino to visit another friend, and made the most of it.

Soon after I started going out there, I felt the absolutely need to drive out to Joshua Tree National Forest. National Forest. That should have been my first clue. There’s tons of Joshua Trees. They’re all over the place. I don’t know where they took the album cover photo, but they must have looked at JTNF and figured, that’s no bloody good, there’s too many Joshua Trees there for an album called “the” Joshua Tree.

JTNF is a really cool place to wander about. Even better than hiking and trekking during the day (Ryan Mountain at 100 degrees F!) is staring at the sky at night and watching satellites fly by.