The Archer and the Master

A young archer trained for many years to win a great tournament. He had a strong arm and good aim. He told his teacher that he intended to win, and his teacher said nothing.

On the day of the tournament, the young archer was nervous. The other competitors were skilled. There were many people watching. He felt the weight of the years of training press on the bow.

He drew. He held. He aimed. He thought about how badly he wanted to win. He thought about what he would say to his teacher if he did. He thought about what he would say if he did not.

He released the arrow. It went wide.

He drew again. He held longer this time. He concentrated harder. His arms shook. The arrow went wider.

He looked up at his teacher in the stands. His teacher, an old man, was not watching the target. He was watching the young archer's face.

"Try once more," the teacher called out, "and try not to win."

The young archer was confused. But he had run out of his own ideas. He drew again. He let himself stop wanting the prize. He let himself just feel the bow, the wind, the small distance between himself and the target. He breathed, once.

He released the arrow. It struck near the center.

What the story is for

The story is from the Zhuangzi, an ancient Chinese book, and it points at something many of us learn slowly.

When we try too hard at something, the trying gets in the way. The wanting becomes louder than the doing. The arm shakes. The pen freezes. The job interview goes worse than the practice did. The first date is awkward.

Not because we are unprepared. Because we are too prepared — too focused on the outcome, not enough in the act.

This is true of meditation, too. The harder you try to be calm, the more agitated you feel. The harder you try to quiet your mind, the louder it gets. The practice begins to work the moment you stop demanding that it work.

A small practice

Today, in one thing you do — a meeting, a conversation, a walk — try to let go of the outcome you are aiming for. Don't be sloppy. Don't stop caring. Just stop demanding. Show up. Do the act. Let the result be what it is.

You will be surprised, sometimes, how much better you do when you stop trying to do well.

The young archer, in the story, hit the target only when he stopped wanting to. The teacher had been watching for that. He knew the arm was already trained. He knew the aim was already good. He was waiting for the wanting to get out of the way.

Most of us spend years waiting for the same thing in ourselves.