Unlearning What You Know

In the beginner's mind there are many possibilities, but in the expert's there are few.

Expertise narrows the aperture. You learn the rules until they feel like sight itself, then stop seeing what falls outside them. A beginner looks at a problem and asks ten questions. An expert asks one, having answered the others long ago. But some mornings, the old answers don't fit. The body knows this. It settles into stillness and suddenly the familiar landscape holds unfamiliar light. Not because anything changed. Because for a moment, you stopped knowing how to see it.