Why Trying Too Hard Makes Things Worse (and What Zen Archers Know)

Headspace Studio, welcome to Radio Headspace. I'm Dora, and I'm so glad that you're here. So I've been trying to be more diligent about my hobbies and I've been determined to learn how to play piano. So last week I downloaded an app that's basically a robo piano teacher duo lingo for music, if you will. During my first lesson, I was lowkey, determined to be a natural and really nail this new hobby. I meticulously followed the robot instructor's cues, perfected the curve, but lightly arched finger technique, and ended up learning the first few keys of Let it Go from the Frozen movie. Now, my boyfriend is a great piano player, and as he watched me struggling, he said, you're trying too hard. Was he right? Possibly. As I tried so hard to play the right keys, I wasn't aware of how rigid my body was, but he told me something that changed how I saw not just playing the piano, but life. You can't force precision. The harder you try, the harder it is to play. And how often do we try to nail something perfectly only to make it harder? Have you ever over explained yourself in a conversation trying so hard to get the wording exactly right, that you end up making no sense or working on an email for way too long, tweaking and rewriting, only to realize you just made it more confusing. There's a zen concept called mohin, and sorry if I'm mispronouncing it, and this means mind without mind. It's the idea that true mastery isn't about overthinking, it's about presence. The more we try to control something, the more we get in our own way. And I learned that firsthand while trying to learn how to play the piano. There's an old Japanese story about a student who wanted to master Kato the way of the bow. He practiced obsessively training for hours every day, convinced that if he just tried hard enough, he could force himself to hit the target. Every time his teacher watch, as he strained his whole body tense, sweat dripping down his face, and every time his arrow missed their mark, finally the teacher said, you're aiming too hard. And the student frowned. Isn't that the point? The teacher picked up the bow, took a deep breath, and without even seeming to try released an arrow, it flew straight to the center of the target. The more you try to control the arrow, the teacher said, the more your own mind becomes the obstacle. The student was skeptical but tried something different. He stopped forcing himself to aim and instead relaxed into the process. His next arrow closer to the target and the next even closer. Eventually, without overthinking, he found his flow. And how often do so many of us aim too hard in our own lives? I once spent two hours trying to craft the perfect text message. By the time I hit send, I had removed all personality from it, and it read like I was applying for a mortgage. Or how about sleep? Have you ever tried to fall asleep? The harder you try,...