Although it’s a story anyone can enjoy, The Inner Knight: Train and Compete Like a Champion was written for athletes and coaches. So it’s exciting when a team reads it together as Loyola Marymount’s beach volleyball team did over winter break. I had the opportunity to visit and talk to them about the book.
It was fun answering questions and seeing players dig into the book. It’s exciting how fiction can resonate in ways a coaching textbook doesn’t. As the lead character Meridian Kay says about the power of stories, “They stay with us, their lessons burrowing a home in our hearts.”
While visiting LMU, I stayed with their head coach, my friend John Mayer. He was reading The Inner Knight to his nine-year-old daughter at bedtime, and I got to listen in. Maybe it was just his amazing voice work, but it was cool hearing the book read aloud and the characters come to life. Here is a section they read from the chapter on Mindfulness.
(Since it’s from the middle of the book there are minor spoilers, so maybe skip it if you want to go into the story completely blind.)
It was late afternoon. We sat on the porch, having finished our daily practice reflection. “You’re showing remarkable improvement,” Gowyn said afterward. “And you look more comfortable in your armor.”
I shook my head. “I think I’m just getting used to being uncomfortable.” I sat silently, watching Shadow eat from his trough.
“What’s on your mind, Meridian?” Gowyn asked.
“The tournament,” I said with a sigh. “I know I’m getting better, but I still feel so nervous.”
“It helps to be mindful of your feelings.”
“What does mindful mean?”
“Mindfulness is being fully present, aware of what you’re doing, thinking, sensing, or feeling in the moment. And presence is the key to performance.”
“I don’t understand. How does being present help you joust?”
“A joust is won or lost in the blink of an eye. You can’t perform your best when your head is somewhere else.”
I was reminded of my father’s words: Keep your head and your feet in the same place. He’d talked about how a knight had to be mentally strong, but he never explained how to develop that strength. Did Gowyn know?
“How does mindfulness help?” I asked. “Will it stop nerves and negative thoughts?”
Gowyn shook his head. “Think of your attention like a boat, and your mind is the ocean. The ocean is always producing waves in the form of thoughts and feelings. Sometimes the waves are gentle. Sometimes they become a storm and crash into the boat. You can’t stop the waves, but you can set an anchor so they don’t knock you too far off course. That is the practice of mindfulness, and you can strengthen it like any other skill.”
“How do I practice?”
“By being aware of the thoughts and feelings you’re experiencing, without judgment. Simply note them and let them pass.”
“What if they don’t pass?”
“Let’s try an exercise.” Gowyn sat up straight and rested his hands in his lap. “Close your eyes.”
I followed his example and closed my eyes.
“Now, listen to the waves. When you feel a thought or feeling, note it aloud. There is no wrong answer. There is no judgement. Simply acknowledge what you feel in the present moment.”
I sighed, stirring uncomfortably in the silence. I felt foolish sitting there with my eyes closed. What was I supposed to say?
Then came Gowyn’s calm voice. “There is anticipation.”
Gowyn continued noting his feelings aloud in a detached voice. There was a pause between each, like waves receding. “There is patience . . . There is concern.”
My pulse quickened. I didn’t feel comfortable opening up. I would rather get hit with the sandbag than share my feelings. I thought about quitting the exercise and then remembered my oath. If this could make me a better jouster, I’d give it a try.
My first impulse was to make up something, to say what a brave knight should feel. Instead, I admitted what I really felt: “There is discomfort.”
Gowyn exhaled. “There is understanding.”
I took a deep breath and listened to my mind, noting feelings as they came: “There is impatience . . . There is nervousness . . . There is calm.”
After a few minutes of noting, I opened my eyes and met Gowyn’s gaze.
“What did you notice?” he asked.
“When I stopped worrying about what I should be feeling, it was easier to identify what I was feeling.”
Gowyn nodded. “It’s easier to hear with a quiet mind. What else did you notice?”
I thought back to the exercise, to the words I chose. “The feelings changed.”
“What does that tell you?”
“That the feelings come and go. Like waves.”
Gowyn nodded. “A feeling is temporary. You may feel nervous or confident in one moment, but that feeling passes. It doesn’t control your actions.”
“But shouldn’t a knight be confident all the time?”
Gowyn rubbed his beard. “When I was younger, there was a knight in our realm who was renowned for his jousting. He was bigger and stronger than the other knights. His horse was faster. He went from town to town and never lost a duel. People believed he was unbeatable, himself most of all.
“In one town, his challenge was accepted by a boy who’d just been knighted. Facing off against the fledgling knight, the champion had all the confidence in the world.”
“But he didn’t win, did he?” I said.
Gowyn shook his head. “The boy unhorsed him on the first pass.”
I smiled. Though it wasn’t my story, it made me feel that I too could overcome impossible odds.
“What do you think the champion’s feeling of confidence did for him?” Gowyn asked.
“It hurt him because he underestimated his opponent.”
“Now consider the boy. This was his first tournament. He was competing against a champion knight. He had no reason to be confident, yet he still won.”
“So, you don’t need confidence to win.”
“Feelings affect us because we’re human, but they don’t control us. We choose who we want to be.”
Gowyn turned and fixed his eyes on me.
“Feelings are fleeting, Meridian. Trust in your training. Trust in your process. Then ride. That’s all a knight can do.”
“The boy in the story,” I said. “That was you, wasn’t it?”
Gowyn smiled. “Yes.”
“Were you nervous?”
Gowyn chuckled. “I was a mess. I threw up my breakfast in the stables before I rode out. Barely got my helmet off in time.”
We both laughed, and I felt some of my unease slip away.
“No matter how many tournaments I won, I felt nervous before every duel,” Gowyn said.
“You did?”
“It’s natural to be nervous when the outcome is uncertain. To feel pressure simply means you care, that you’re doing something important.”
I smiled, feeling a rush of relief. The doubts I had were normal, and they didn’t control me.
I sat on Gowyn’s porch, feeling my chest rise and fall with every breath. Since I’d left home, hardly a moment went by when I didn’t think about the tournament. But right now, I didn’t want to look past this moment. I wanted my head right where my feet were.
“Thank you, Gowyn,” I said. “I’m grateful to have you as my teacher.”
Gowyn raised an eyebrow. “There is vulnerability. We must be making progress.” We both laughed. “How would you feel about continuing the exercise?”
In answer, I closed my eyes and listened, mindful of what feeling came.
“There is excitement,” I said.
I didn’t post much on this blog last year. (I know, you were devastated.) All my writing time was spent working on my books. But I’m planning on posting more in 2023 (between working on the conclusion to the Descendants of Terene series!), so hopefully we’ll be spending more time together.
“There is intention.”
If you’re interested in getting the Inner Knight for your team, let me know and I’ll get you a discount on bulk orders.