Dear Qui-Gon,
I have begun my lessons with young Luke – he is eager for my company – or perhaps simply eager for any company at all. His only friend is the Darklighter boy who he sees infrequently, and though he is much loved by his guardians he craves variety in his humdrum life. But he adores Beru, happy to help her with chores beyond any five year old I have ever encountered – although I admit I have not been exposed to a wide range. The Jedi Padawans I remember were never very keen on chores.
Those younglings learnt discipline and order as soon as they arrived at the Temple, but Luke's focus is difficult to hone. He resembles his father in that respect, although Anakin was several years older when he came under my charge with hard work already drilled into him by his years as a slave. I try not the pressure the boy too much at this point – he will know the harshness of life soon enough. As soon as he is old enough he will need to start helping Owen run the farm, which can be exhausting physical as well as mental work.
When I do finally get him to focus, Luke is desperate to master the task as soon as possible. The exercise I had him to clear his mind is but one example:
"Imagine the desert," I instructed, thinking it would be easier for him to visualize. "Barren and lifeless – completely empty. Imagine your mind is the desert."
"Okay," Luke answered, scrunching up his face as he closed his eyes.
"Don't try so hard," I advised, lightly touching his shoulder. "It is counterproductive."
Luke opened his eyes and blinked at me, confused.
"The opposite of what I want," I explained. "The point is to let go of all your thoughts until your mind is as clear and empty as the desert."
"Okay." Luke closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. I let several minutes pass before I asked him if his mind was clear.
"No," he told me unhappily.
"Did you picture the desert as I asked?"
"Yes." Luke wrung his little hands, looking frustrated.
"So where did your thoughts go then?"
"Well I saw the desert," Luke explained, dragging out the last syllable. "But it wasn't empty at all like you said. I saw the suns that go up and down every day, and the sand that blows everywhere making new dunes, and the crawlers and bantha herds and sometimes Sandpeople calling to each other and sarlaccs under the ground waiting to snatch someone up and…"
"Alright, Luke," I squeezed his shoulder. "I understand."
"Did I do it wrong?" Luke's eyes filled with tears.
I thought about what you would have said to the boy, Qui-Gon. If it had been Anakin I would have told him yes, that he had completely missed the point of the exercise. But I am older now, and I hope wiser. I look at this barren planet and see nothing but wastes – Luke sees life and possibility.
"No, you didn't do it wrong," I told him. "You showed me how I was wrong – of course the desert is full of life. It shows lateral thinking."
"What?"
"It's a good thing," I assured him. "But let's try the exercise again, but this time, imagine you're in a dark room, with no light, no sound, nothing."
"Why am I in the room?" Luke asked, his eyes wide. "Did I do something bad?"
It is a struggle, Qui-Gon., let me tell you.
Ben Kenobi
