I used to live and work in New York City. When I go back there, as infrequent as that may be these days, I like to watch people on the crowed sidewalks as they move against the flow. I've noticed that there are three types of walkers in that situation. First there's the person who apparently has no personal space. This person is constantly being jostled and bumped by other folks moving in the opposite direction. His eyes are usually lowered and he seems to be folded in upon himself. Next is the person who powers his way thru the oncoming traffic. He radiates authority tinged with hostility. Shoulders squared he briskly walks his path and seems, via his body language, to dare others to obstruct him. Then there's the person who moves effortlessly as he weaves his way thru the crowd. His personal space is obvious without being obtrusive and he seems to be able to find openings into which he moves and passes thru without disturbing the current.
When I practice technique I look to minimize my physical contact with uke so as to give him no inkling that there is any danger at hand. Leading him while I follow his lead I want to create a void into which he will move where, with a slight touch, I can disturb his balance and effect a throw. I never seek to overtly control uke. By keeping myself just out of his field of vision I am able to suggest that he must move in such a way as to come and find me. Once he has chosen a path I encourage him to continue along it thereby accelerating his motion. At that point the technique will become evident, arising naturally out of our combined motion.
Friday, August 28, 2009
Forty-eight
"It is the pervading law of all things organic and inorganic,
Of all things physical and metaphysical,
Of all things human and all things super-human,
Of all true manifestations of the head,
Of the heart, of the soul,
That the life is recognizable in its expression,
That form ever follows function. This is the law."
"The Tall Office Building Artistically Considered"," published Lippincott's Magazine (March 1896).
There is only one Dance. Many forms of Dance exist. Is there only one true form of Dance? There is only one Painting. Many forms of Painting exist. Is there only one true form of Painting? There is only one Music. Many forms of Music exist. Is there only one true form of Music? There is only one Aikido. Many forms of Aikido exist. Is there only one true form of Aikido?
It has been said that those who are not doing Ueshiba's Aikido are not doing Aikido for, after all, there is only one Aikido. But isn't all this quibbling over what is and is not Ueshiba's Aikido really a debate over the form of the Aikido that is being practiced? I have yet to see a universally accepted definition of what Aikido is, much less an accepted definition of what Ueshiba's Aikido was. Before Ueshiba took on his first student there was only one form of Aikido, Ueshiba's. But as with any art form, as soon as more than one person engages in it the form of the art has the potential to change and grow.
The form of my Aikido is in harmony with the function(s) to which I intend to put my Aikido. My movements, training methods, teaching style are all factors that determine the form of my Aikido and are all ultimately reflections of my intent.
Of all things physical and metaphysical,
Of all things human and all things super-human,
Of all true manifestations of the head,
Of the heart, of the soul,
That the life is recognizable in its expression,
That form ever follows function. This is the law."
"The Tall Office Building Artistically Considered"," published Lippincott's Magazine (March 1896).
There is only one Dance. Many forms of Dance exist. Is there only one true form of Dance? There is only one Painting. Many forms of Painting exist. Is there only one true form of Painting? There is only one Music. Many forms of Music exist. Is there only one true form of Music? There is only one Aikido. Many forms of Aikido exist. Is there only one true form of Aikido?
It has been said that those who are not doing Ueshiba's Aikido are not doing Aikido for, after all, there is only one Aikido. But isn't all this quibbling over what is and is not Ueshiba's Aikido really a debate over the form of the Aikido that is being practiced? I have yet to see a universally accepted definition of what Aikido is, much less an accepted definition of what Ueshiba's Aikido was. Before Ueshiba took on his first student there was only one form of Aikido, Ueshiba's. But as with any art form, as soon as more than one person engages in it the form of the art has the potential to change and grow.
The form of my Aikido is in harmony with the function(s) to which I intend to put my Aikido. My movements, training methods, teaching style are all factors that determine the form of my Aikido and are all ultimately reflections of my intent.
Forty-seven
I assume a right stance. I relax, keep one point and have my partner grab each of my wrists and push, easily at first then with steadily increasing force. As I absorb the push I let the energy flow thru me into the ground via my rear foot. When I have balanced his force with my absorption I bring my rear foot forward until I am in natural stance with both feet parallel. Moving from my center, I slide one foot forward and extend Ki into my partner moving him backward. I do the same with the other foot as I begin to walk my partner across the mat.
I can vary this exercise and use two partners, one to each wrist, grabbing with two hands and practice as outlined above.
When performing this exercise the choice of metaphor is strictly up to the participants. The imagery isn't the issue, it is finding and enhancing correct feeling that enables me to channel and redirect the force that is being applied by my partner.
Enjoy.
I can vary this exercise and use two partners, one to each wrist, grabbing with two hands and practice as outlined above.
When performing this exercise the choice of metaphor is strictly up to the participants. The imagery isn't the issue, it is finding and enhancing correct feeling that enables me to channel and redirect the force that is being applied by my partner.
Enjoy.
Forty-six
When I move my motion forms an eddy in the fabric of the continuum, the echo of which, moves out in all directions from my center.
Training. Training. And more training.
Aikido is a form of `do-ing', it is learned via performance.
It has been said that one must be shown each and every nuance of Aikido in order to `correctly' perform the techniques and, as a consequence, grow. Otherwise the student will just continue to practice incorrectly forever. I do not subscribe to this view. Aikido practice is a self-correcting process. Continued training allows me to learn the principles from the inside out. My body, mind and spirit are simultaneously affected during practice. As a result all three are tuned to the movement of the techniques and adjusted as I gain experience.
The feedback I get from training continually provides me valuable clues as to the correct direction of my effort. As I build on the knowledge gained from practice I perform the techniques more efficiently, increase the strength of my Ki and gain greater understanding of Aikido in general.
Training. Training. And more training.
Aikido is a form of `do-ing', it is learned via performance.
It has been said that one must be shown each and every nuance of Aikido in order to `correctly' perform the techniques and, as a consequence, grow. Otherwise the student will just continue to practice incorrectly forever. I do not subscribe to this view. Aikido practice is a self-correcting process. Continued training allows me to learn the principles from the inside out. My body, mind and spirit are simultaneously affected during practice. As a result all three are tuned to the movement of the techniques and adjusted as I gain experience.
The feedback I get from training continually provides me valuable clues as to the correct direction of my effort. As I build on the knowledge gained from practice I perform the techniques more efficiently, increase the strength of my Ki and gain greater understanding of Aikido in general.
Forty-five
When all else is gone and I stand bereft of my masks, naked to the universe arms wide eyes open not feeling not seeing, then I will find Ki.
Knowing is a hindrance to learning. The minute I know something I cast the knowledge into stone and assume that which I know will be invariant with respect to time. Therefore I will no longer seek to learn about it. This type of reasoning leads to stagnation of my intellect.
For instance: 1 + 1 = 2 is a very elementary equation in arithmetic. It is one of the first things children learn and hence know about numerical relationships. If I then insist that 1 + 1 = 10 someone who knows that 1 + 1 = 2 will argue that I am incorrect. When I point out that 1 + 1 = 10 is indeed correct provided the base of the number system in which the equation is rendered is 2, the other person's knowledge is thereby challenged.
That, however, is immaterial to the discussion at hand. It is the initial reaction to my assertion that 1 + 1 = 10, ‘you're wrong, 1 + 1 = 2, I know it.', that's important. The act of knowing has created a barrier to learning; a barrier that is easily scaled provided the knower is willing to expand her horizons.
I see this all the time in Aikido. As I age and grow, my technique evolves to accommodate the physical and psychological changes I am continually undergoing. New ideas occur to me that when integrated into my Aikido change it's form. So today's technique looks somewhat different from the technique I taught aforetime. Students who are most secure in their knowledge are the ones who have the most trouble adapting. This is what I mean when I say that knowing creates a barrier to learning. If I can accept that what I know today will in all likelihood be different tomorrow I can forget about technique, learn about Aikido and hence myself.
Knowing is a hindrance to learning. The minute I know something I cast the knowledge into stone and assume that which I know will be invariant with respect to time. Therefore I will no longer seek to learn about it. This type of reasoning leads to stagnation of my intellect.
For instance: 1 + 1 = 2 is a very elementary equation in arithmetic. It is one of the first things children learn and hence know about numerical relationships. If I then insist that 1 + 1 = 10 someone who knows that 1 + 1 = 2 will argue that I am incorrect. When I point out that 1 + 1 = 10 is indeed correct provided the base of the number system in which the equation is rendered is 2, the other person's knowledge is thereby challenged.
That, however, is immaterial to the discussion at hand. It is the initial reaction to my assertion that 1 + 1 = 10, ‘you're wrong, 1 + 1 = 2, I know it.', that's important. The act of knowing has created a barrier to learning; a barrier that is easily scaled provided the knower is willing to expand her horizons.
I see this all the time in Aikido. As I age and grow, my technique evolves to accommodate the physical and psychological changes I am continually undergoing. New ideas occur to me that when integrated into my Aikido change it's form. So today's technique looks somewhat different from the technique I taught aforetime. Students who are most secure in their knowledge are the ones who have the most trouble adapting. This is what I mean when I say that knowing creates a barrier to learning. If I can accept that what I know today will in all likelihood be different tomorrow I can forget about technique, learn about Aikido and hence myself.
Forty-four
No reason why sweat can't as easily be combined with joy as with grim.
My partner and I come together in the middle of the mat, no designation of who is nage or uke, no expectations as to outcome. The exercise is designed to blur the lines of attack and defense such that we are both engaged in both simultaneously. We operate with grabs only since another aspect of this exercise is to learn to follow my partner's energy flow while he follows mine.
I grab his wrist and he ignores the grab so I let go and grab his shoulder. He attempts kata tori ikkyo and I fade away from the shoulder grab in favor of a grab somewhere else. During all this he has grabbed me at my elbow and evaded my own ikkyo, his other hand goes for my shoulder and I turn but he feels my intent and switches to another attack. We are constantly in motion and eventually one of us will over commit and end up getting thrown. The next pair will take our place and continue the exercise…
We usually do this with two pairs of people on the mat simultaneously, the rest standing around the edges waiting to enter the fray. There's no set order, as soon as a throw is executed two people jump in and begin.
The energy in the room becomes palpable as the exercise goes on, everyone intent on either participating or waiting to have a turn. The room is silent except for the noise generated by the moving bodies and the occasional slap as someone takes ukemi.
Sweat and smiles are always evident when we finish.
My partner and I come together in the middle of the mat, no designation of who is nage or uke, no expectations as to outcome. The exercise is designed to blur the lines of attack and defense such that we are both engaged in both simultaneously. We operate with grabs only since another aspect of this exercise is to learn to follow my partner's energy flow while he follows mine.
I grab his wrist and he ignores the grab so I let go and grab his shoulder. He attempts kata tori ikkyo and I fade away from the shoulder grab in favor of a grab somewhere else. During all this he has grabbed me at my elbow and evaded my own ikkyo, his other hand goes for my shoulder and I turn but he feels my intent and switches to another attack. We are constantly in motion and eventually one of us will over commit and end up getting thrown. The next pair will take our place and continue the exercise…
We usually do this with two pairs of people on the mat simultaneously, the rest standing around the edges waiting to enter the fray. There's no set order, as soon as a throw is executed two people jump in and begin.
The energy in the room becomes palpable as the exercise goes on, everyone intent on either participating or waiting to have a turn. The room is silent except for the noise generated by the moving bodies and the occasional slap as someone takes ukemi.
Sweat and smiles are always evident when we finish.
Forty-three
Chaos and clarity merge to unity, at now, when all is clear then and when are without meaning.
I remember as kids we used to lay in the grass on warm summer days and watch the clouds pass overhead. We would pick out shapes that appeared in the cloud formations and watch as they were transformed by the wind and heat of the sun into other recognizable objects. There was no sense that the continual metamorphosis was in any way other than natural and as one set of clouds passed from view we would move on to the next finding new things to ooh and aah over. Childhood (and I mean pre-teen childhood) was a time when there wasn't much past to clutter up my mind carried around like so much baggage, and the future was some far off thing that would arrive some day but not in my lifetime. It was a time of both newly found self-awareness and a realization that now was all that mattered. It wasn't until I grew much older that the weight of years behind me began to grow heavy and the shortness of years before me became readily apparent.
Coping with change as a child was easy. While settled in the present change didn't feel like change because there wasn't a reference of continuity to measure newness against. The present was a series of unconnected unique encounters called life.
I find that my students often have trouble when a technique they have been doing one way for years is all of a sudden different in some way. To them the change seems sudden while to me it's a result of continual refinement over a long period of time. I could point this out to them, and often do, but the message seems to get lost somewhere along the way and I observe much consternation as they struggle to incorporate the new idea into their practice. With the passage of time I notice that the revised technique starts showing up with more regularity.
I remember as kids we used to lay in the grass on warm summer days and watch the clouds pass overhead. We would pick out shapes that appeared in the cloud formations and watch as they were transformed by the wind and heat of the sun into other recognizable objects. There was no sense that the continual metamorphosis was in any way other than natural and as one set of clouds passed from view we would move on to the next finding new things to ooh and aah over. Childhood (and I mean pre-teen childhood) was a time when there wasn't much past to clutter up my mind carried around like so much baggage, and the future was some far off thing that would arrive some day but not in my lifetime. It was a time of both newly found self-awareness and a realization that now was all that mattered. It wasn't until I grew much older that the weight of years behind me began to grow heavy and the shortness of years before me became readily apparent.
Coping with change as a child was easy. While settled in the present change didn't feel like change because there wasn't a reference of continuity to measure newness against. The present was a series of unconnected unique encounters called life.
I find that my students often have trouble when a technique they have been doing one way for years is all of a sudden different in some way. To them the change seems sudden while to me it's a result of continual refinement over a long period of time. I could point this out to them, and often do, but the message seems to get lost somewhere along the way and I observe much consternation as they struggle to incorporate the new idea into their practice. With the passage of time I notice that the revised technique starts showing up with more regularity.
Forty-two
Resistance requires counterforce, absorption emptiness.
Assume a right stance. Have your partner stand behind you and put his hands on your shoulders. Tense your body and resist as your partner pushes on your shoulders forward and slightly down. Have your partner note the amount of force required to move you off balance. Return to the initial position. Now relax, keep one point and instead of resisting your partners push absorb it letting it flow thru you down your front leg and into the ground. Initially your partner should use the same amount of force required to take you off balance in the tensed example and slowly increase the pressure as you become more adept at absorbing and channeling his power.
As you gain experience with this exercise begin to close your stance until you can perform it in natural stance with feet parallel. You can also vary the direction of the push so that your partner pushes forward and up instead of forward and down. Or have him exert unequal pressure at each or your shoulders attempting to rotate your upper body while also trying to push you forward.
Perform the same set of exercises with your partner pulling instead of pushing.
Ki exercises enable me to discover correct feeling which embodies my most dependable state of being where mind and body are coordinated. They go beyond being testing tools, becoming aids in Ki development and strengthening when repeated over and over. Practicing Ki exercises allows me to feel the subtle changes that occur inside my body as I work with the applied force and endeavor to maintain my center, calm my mind and connect with my partner's center the better to bring about our unity of purpose.
Assume a right stance. Have your partner stand behind you and put his hands on your shoulders. Tense your body and resist as your partner pushes on your shoulders forward and slightly down. Have your partner note the amount of force required to move you off balance. Return to the initial position. Now relax, keep one point and instead of resisting your partners push absorb it letting it flow thru you down your front leg and into the ground. Initially your partner should use the same amount of force required to take you off balance in the tensed example and slowly increase the pressure as you become more adept at absorbing and channeling his power.
As you gain experience with this exercise begin to close your stance until you can perform it in natural stance with feet parallel. You can also vary the direction of the push so that your partner pushes forward and up instead of forward and down. Or have him exert unequal pressure at each or your shoulders attempting to rotate your upper body while also trying to push you forward.
Perform the same set of exercises with your partner pulling instead of pushing.
Ki exercises enable me to discover correct feeling which embodies my most dependable state of being where mind and body are coordinated. They go beyond being testing tools, becoming aids in Ki development and strengthening when repeated over and over. Practicing Ki exercises allows me to feel the subtle changes that occur inside my body as I work with the applied force and endeavor to maintain my center, calm my mind and connect with my partner's center the better to bring about our unity of purpose.
Forty-one
As I age I notice that my eyes are not what they used to be. Reading anything less than a banner headline is impossible without glasses and when I'm tired, my mid range vision gets blurry around the edges. Sight is the sense I rely on most when getting around in the world. Hearing, smell, taste and touch are decidedly secondary players in this regard. So it's with some trepidation that I watch as the years roll on by and my eyesight degenerates.
In class I will occasionally institute a blindfold drill where nage must execute technique while deprived of her sight. We have several variations of this drill: nage and one uke, nage and multiple ukes, nage in a circle of ukes, guess the attacker's identity. When I practice these drills I'm amazed at how quickly the other senses will compensate for my lack of sight. I am usually able to hunt uke down and engage him on my terms rather than simply waiting passively to be attacked.
What I am discovering is that sight, because it is so dominant, will drown out other more subtle clues as to where the attack is coming from and when it will be launched. This realization is leading me to hypothesize that an acute sense of vision can actually impede Ki development.
In class I will occasionally institute a blindfold drill where nage must execute technique while deprived of her sight. We have several variations of this drill: nage and one uke, nage and multiple ukes, nage in a circle of ukes, guess the attacker's identity. When I practice these drills I'm amazed at how quickly the other senses will compensate for my lack of sight. I am usually able to hunt uke down and engage him on my terms rather than simply waiting passively to be attacked.
What I am discovering is that sight, because it is so dominant, will drown out other more subtle clues as to where the attack is coming from and when it will be launched. This realization is leading me to hypothesize that an acute sense of vision can actually impede Ki development.
Forty
Teaching I add my ripples to the pond. Out they travel from the center of my experience and touch many lives along the way.
I knew from the outset that one day I would teach Aikido and have my own dojo. Teaching is my way of adding to the song of Aikido. As I give back what I have learned from others and discovered for myself I weave new threads into the Aikido tapestry. It doesn't end there though. Some of my students will go on and become teachers in their own right. Aikido will be enriched by their experience and knowledge. Aikido is no longer a single art. That ended when O-Sensei took on his first student. Each practitioner brings to the mat an Aikido colored and shaped by who he or she is.
This is why the argument over which Aikido is the real, true Aikido is pointless. Aikido has become so multifaceted that the argument is rendered meaningless. I think that O-Sensei intended Aikido principles and techniques to be applicable to all situations that may occur in one's life and that with dedicated study and a correct attitude anyone should be able to master said principles and techniques.
It has been argued that Aikido philosophy has become irrelevant in the modern world. The words ‘peace' and ‘harmony' are said with a sneer in the voice as though the ideals represented thereby are without worth and need no mention in the context of a martial art. So today you have Aikido being taught as a pure fighting system without regard to the philosophical foundation that led O-Sensei to create the art in the way that he did. You also have Aikido being taught as an art that mostly disregards martial applications in favor spiritual development and personal growth. In between the extremes the Aikido spectrum is full and rich with variety.
I knew from the outset that one day I would teach Aikido and have my own dojo. Teaching is my way of adding to the song of Aikido. As I give back what I have learned from others and discovered for myself I weave new threads into the Aikido tapestry. It doesn't end there though. Some of my students will go on and become teachers in their own right. Aikido will be enriched by their experience and knowledge. Aikido is no longer a single art. That ended when O-Sensei took on his first student. Each practitioner brings to the mat an Aikido colored and shaped by who he or she is.
This is why the argument over which Aikido is the real, true Aikido is pointless. Aikido has become so multifaceted that the argument is rendered meaningless. I think that O-Sensei intended Aikido principles and techniques to be applicable to all situations that may occur in one's life and that with dedicated study and a correct attitude anyone should be able to master said principles and techniques.
It has been argued that Aikido philosophy has become irrelevant in the modern world. The words ‘peace' and ‘harmony' are said with a sneer in the voice as though the ideals represented thereby are without worth and need no mention in the context of a martial art. So today you have Aikido being taught as a pure fighting system without regard to the philosophical foundation that led O-Sensei to create the art in the way that he did. You also have Aikido being taught as an art that mostly disregards martial applications in favor spiritual development and personal growth. In between the extremes the Aikido spectrum is full and rich with variety.
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Thirty-nine
Ki is the bond, my source of unity with all things.
What I find especially interesting is the idea that there are secrets to developing Ki power, secrets that few know and fewer are willing to share.
Ki power is developed through dedicated training, slowly, over many years. The strength of my Ki is proportional to the amount of time I have spent seriously studying and practicing Aikido. No mystery, no secrets, no incense, no magical phrases chanted over and over; just long, hard, sweaty practice.
Ki exercises (development), Ki testing (correctness) and Aikido technique (application) all contribute to developing my Ki power. Ki power is a naturally occurring phenomenon that exists within me and needs only to be exercised daily over a long period of time to be strengthened.
It's no different than strengthening the muscles. Perform the correct exercises and as the years go by my body will grow stronger. No mystery, no secrets, no incense, no magical phrases chanted over and over; just long, hard, sweaty practice.
I know now that the knowledge I seek is there inside of me. If I open myself up to it and let my Ki flow back from where it came it will be replenished tenfold as I continue on my path
What I find especially interesting is the idea that there are secrets to developing Ki power, secrets that few know and fewer are willing to share.
Ki power is developed through dedicated training, slowly, over many years. The strength of my Ki is proportional to the amount of time I have spent seriously studying and practicing Aikido. No mystery, no secrets, no incense, no magical phrases chanted over and over; just long, hard, sweaty practice.
Ki exercises (development), Ki testing (correctness) and Aikido technique (application) all contribute to developing my Ki power. Ki power is a naturally occurring phenomenon that exists within me and needs only to be exercised daily over a long period of time to be strengthened.
It's no different than strengthening the muscles. Perform the correct exercises and as the years go by my body will grow stronger. No mystery, no secrets, no incense, no magical phrases chanted over and over; just long, hard, sweaty practice.
I know now that the knowledge I seek is there inside of me. If I open myself up to it and let my Ki flow back from where it came it will be replenished tenfold as I continue on my path
Thirty-eight
When attacked I become the attack, when attacking I become the throw.
For an attack to be "real" it must be composed of three elements: strategy, tactics and intent. Strategy and tactics of an attack can be easily simulated in the dojo. An attacker's intent is to maim, disable or otherwise harm the one being attacked for whatever reason. I'm not aware of any Aikido dojos where intent to harm one's partner is an integral part of daily practice. I have been to many Aikido classes, seminars and camps over 30 years and I have yet to see anything that can be termed a "real" attack on the mat.
Often Aikido students mistake speed, strength and resistance for reality when attacking. These are all components of an attack, but in and of themselves do not constitute a "real" attack. For the attack to be real the intent to harm must be present. The attacker must forego all restraint and really want to hurt the defender. This is what happens in uncontrolled situations that occur outside of the dojo.
For me, the reality of Aikido training is learning to ignore uke's intent. How can this be accomplished in the dojo when intent is totally absent from an attack? Exactly! Constant training in the absence of intent allows me to see and react to the mechanics of an attack without having to deal with uke's emotional baggage that is fueling his intent. Aikido has taught me that there is no distinction between uke and nage and hence, no conflict. An attack is a gift, an opportunity to practice my art.
For an attack to be "real" it must be composed of three elements: strategy, tactics and intent. Strategy and tactics of an attack can be easily simulated in the dojo. An attacker's intent is to maim, disable or otherwise harm the one being attacked for whatever reason. I'm not aware of any Aikido dojos where intent to harm one's partner is an integral part of daily practice. I have been to many Aikido classes, seminars and camps over 30 years and I have yet to see anything that can be termed a "real" attack on the mat.
Often Aikido students mistake speed, strength and resistance for reality when attacking. These are all components of an attack, but in and of themselves do not constitute a "real" attack. For the attack to be real the intent to harm must be present. The attacker must forego all restraint and really want to hurt the defender. This is what happens in uncontrolled situations that occur outside of the dojo.
For me, the reality of Aikido training is learning to ignore uke's intent. How can this be accomplished in the dojo when intent is totally absent from an attack? Exactly! Constant training in the absence of intent allows me to see and react to the mechanics of an attack without having to deal with uke's emotional baggage that is fueling his intent. Aikido has taught me that there is no distinction between uke and nage and hence, no conflict. An attack is a gift, an opportunity to practice my art.
Thirty-seven
I am more than what I am. There is something that is me that is not made of me but exists beyond the limits of my being.
I make choices every day. When to get up, what to have for breakfast, what to wear, go to work or not, how to get there etc. It seems that I am continually confronted by alternatives in life's decisions. Many apparently automatic responses are really conscious decisions. Don't cross the street while traffic is moving, don't leap off that high building and the like. It would seem that decision making occurs on different levels with regard to consciousness. Patterns related to danger evoke decisions without my having to think about them while non life threatening patterns allow me the luxury of consciously debating which direction to take... choices.
In my study of Aikido I am also offered a multiplicity of choices as I progress. As such my view of what Aikido is has changed throughout the years. I chose, in the early years, to concentrate on the martial side of Aikido. I sought to relate technique to ‘real' situations. How would this or that technique serve me in a fight? I wanted to know why we didn't get into stable seemingly strong, immovable karate-like stances prior to executing technique. I was young and threats were always just around the next bend in life; or so I chose to believe... choices.
I'm older now having survived all those fears unique to the young and find that Aikido provides me with a venue in which to venture down other paths of exploration of meaning in my life. I have chosen to pretty much abandon the martial side of Aikido as it relates to my personal development. Perhaps the shift from training my body to honing of my spirit is just a natural part of Aikido evolution that all long term practitioners undergo, I don't know. I do know that Aikido training is enabling me to look more deeply into how I ‘fit' into the larger scheme of things and how I relate to people around me... choices.
I treat spirituality as a personal quest and don't broach the subject directly in class. My students are free to find spirituality on the mat, or not. It's not up to me to choose for them. I am interested only in coaxing their Aikido out of them in hope they will be wide eyed enough to see it. Coming to my dojo and studying with me they put themselves on the path. I give them a shove and the rest is up to them... choices.
I make choices every day. When to get up, what to have for breakfast, what to wear, go to work or not, how to get there etc. It seems that I am continually confronted by alternatives in life's decisions. Many apparently automatic responses are really conscious decisions. Don't cross the street while traffic is moving, don't leap off that high building and the like. It would seem that decision making occurs on different levels with regard to consciousness. Patterns related to danger evoke decisions without my having to think about them while non life threatening patterns allow me the luxury of consciously debating which direction to take... choices.
In my study of Aikido I am also offered a multiplicity of choices as I progress. As such my view of what Aikido is has changed throughout the years. I chose, in the early years, to concentrate on the martial side of Aikido. I sought to relate technique to ‘real' situations. How would this or that technique serve me in a fight? I wanted to know why we didn't get into stable seemingly strong, immovable karate-like stances prior to executing technique. I was young and threats were always just around the next bend in life; or so I chose to believe... choices.
I'm older now having survived all those fears unique to the young and find that Aikido provides me with a venue in which to venture down other paths of exploration of meaning in my life. I have chosen to pretty much abandon the martial side of Aikido as it relates to my personal development. Perhaps the shift from training my body to honing of my spirit is just a natural part of Aikido evolution that all long term practitioners undergo, I don't know. I do know that Aikido training is enabling me to look more deeply into how I ‘fit' into the larger scheme of things and how I relate to people around me... choices.
I treat spirituality as a personal quest and don't broach the subject directly in class. My students are free to find spirituality on the mat, or not. It's not up to me to choose for them. I am interested only in coaxing their Aikido out of them in hope they will be wide eyed enough to see it. Coming to my dojo and studying with me they put themselves on the path. I give them a shove and the rest is up to them... choices.
Thirty-six
Get your weight off your feet.
I always carefully observe how students distribute their weight when preparing to receive an attack. I note which foot receives the major portion of their weight and watch as they attempt to move smoothly into the technique we are practicing. Over the years I have noticed that no matter which foot takes the body's weight, the center must rise before it can move in a lateral direction. This is due to the fact that before a weighted foot can move the weight must first be transferred somewhere else.
Try this: get into a right stance and lean forward so that most of your weight is over your right foot (front). Now withdraw your right foot as though moving along the trajectory away from an oncoming yokomen strike. Notice that before you can move your right foot you have to shift your weight off that foot first. In effect, your center must rise. This takes time and you are vulnerable while executing this move. You can perform the same experiment with the rear foot only instead of retreating execute irimi by stepping in with the rear foot.
Now try this: Walk from one end of the room to the other. Notice how the trajectory of your center remains ‘flat' with respect to the ground. Also notice that you're not as aware of your weight shifting from foot to foot as you were in the prior example. This is what I mean by having no weight on your feet.
When you walk naturally you are moving from your center. Why should your motion during the execution of technique be any different?
I always carefully observe how students distribute their weight when preparing to receive an attack. I note which foot receives the major portion of their weight and watch as they attempt to move smoothly into the technique we are practicing. Over the years I have noticed that no matter which foot takes the body's weight, the center must rise before it can move in a lateral direction. This is due to the fact that before a weighted foot can move the weight must first be transferred somewhere else.
Try this: get into a right stance and lean forward so that most of your weight is over your right foot (front). Now withdraw your right foot as though moving along the trajectory away from an oncoming yokomen strike. Notice that before you can move your right foot you have to shift your weight off that foot first. In effect, your center must rise. This takes time and you are vulnerable while executing this move. You can perform the same experiment with the rear foot only instead of retreating execute irimi by stepping in with the rear foot.
Now try this: Walk from one end of the room to the other. Notice how the trajectory of your center remains ‘flat' with respect to the ground. Also notice that you're not as aware of your weight shifting from foot to foot as you were in the prior example. This is what I mean by having no weight on your feet.
When you walk naturally you are moving from your center. Why should your motion during the execution of technique be any different?
Thirty-five
‘I' am the difference between past and future.
I coalesce at now. I leave my past behind in the dustbin of history and open myself to a future that rushes at me but never quite arrives. Past and future are orders of arrangement that I construct to help me cope with now. After all, the moment is all there is and it has no span either backward or forward; it simply is.
In Aikido class I practice technique. Techniques are executed repeatedly in order to hone skills, develop Ki, coordinate mind and body etc. I tend to mentally call my own play-by-play and provide color commentary as well. This behavior is a denial of the moment and a clinging to the concepts of past and future; as though berating myself for a perceived lack of technical skill in the technique just performed (past) will improve my performance executing the same technique later (future).
I am so oriented to punishment/reward driven behavior. Patting myself on the back for a job well done on the mat is no different from chastising myself for blowing that shihonage. Both are ways of using past behavior to affect future results. Both are ways of avoiding the now.
I am at my most powerful state when both mind and body are coordinated at now.
I coalesce at now. I leave my past behind in the dustbin of history and open myself to a future that rushes at me but never quite arrives. Past and future are orders of arrangement that I construct to help me cope with now. After all, the moment is all there is and it has no span either backward or forward; it simply is.
In Aikido class I practice technique. Techniques are executed repeatedly in order to hone skills, develop Ki, coordinate mind and body etc. I tend to mentally call my own play-by-play and provide color commentary as well. This behavior is a denial of the moment and a clinging to the concepts of past and future; as though berating myself for a perceived lack of technical skill in the technique just performed (past) will improve my performance executing the same technique later (future).
I am so oriented to punishment/reward driven behavior. Patting myself on the back for a job well done on the mat is no different from chastising myself for blowing that shihonage. Both are ways of using past behavior to affect future results. Both are ways of avoiding the now.
I am at my most powerful state when both mind and body are coordinated at now.
Thirty-four
The following is a Ki exercise, not technique. Nage assume a right stance. As your partner delivers tsuki with his left hand, attacking your lead, execute tenkan. You are now facing the same direction. Your partner's arm is extended, left foot forward. Grab your partner's wrist and attempt to pull his arm toward you; your partner should resist. Notice how much effort is required to get your partner to move.
Now keep the same position only this time let your hand rest lightly on your partner's wrist without grabbing tightly. Extend Ki and lead his arm ever so slightly forward before bringing it around along an arc that spirals downward toward your body; your partner should resist. We call the slight forward motion taking up the slack. Again, notice how much force is required to move your partner.
Done correctly, taking up the slack opens his shoulder causing your partner's resistance to melt away as his arm is lead along a relatively complex curve which is much harder to resist than the straight line pull described in the first paragraph.
Try it, have fun.
Now keep the same position only this time let your hand rest lightly on your partner's wrist without grabbing tightly. Extend Ki and lead his arm ever so slightly forward before bringing it around along an arc that spirals downward toward your body; your partner should resist. We call the slight forward motion taking up the slack. Again, notice how much force is required to move your partner.
Done correctly, taking up the slack opens his shoulder causing your partner's resistance to melt away as his arm is lead along a relatively complex curve which is much harder to resist than the straight line pull described in the first paragraph.
Try it, have fun.
Thirty-three
Lead and follow, follow and lead; the difference is perceived only from outside.
I have several analogies I use when teaching the concept of leading. I'll speak of leading uke's mind, grabbing her Ki, leading the attack, moving on the intent etc. My initial lead determines how well I will evade the attack and subsequently be able to redirect uke's energy along a harmless (to me) path.
But there is no leading without following. While I am leading uke I must also be following her and so to further lead her on. I don't switch from leading to following and back again; rather both actions are performed continuously. Leading and following are no more separable than mind and body.
Uke and I have different goals at the onset of each encounter. Uke seeks to intersect me at some point and apply either a grab, blow or both. My aim is to avoid said intersection and lead uke along a different path. This process involves my leading uke's mind/body along lines that will be unoccupied by me. At all times it is important for me to know where uke is going and so I must follow her lead as I lead her following.
I have several analogies I use when teaching the concept of leading. I'll speak of leading uke's mind, grabbing her Ki, leading the attack, moving on the intent etc. My initial lead determines how well I will evade the attack and subsequently be able to redirect uke's energy along a harmless (to me) path.
But there is no leading without following. While I am leading uke I must also be following her and so to further lead her on. I don't switch from leading to following and back again; rather both actions are performed continuously. Leading and following are no more separable than mind and body.
Uke and I have different goals at the onset of each encounter. Uke seeks to intersect me at some point and apply either a grab, blow or both. My aim is to avoid said intersection and lead uke along a different path. This process involves my leading uke's mind/body along lines that will be unoccupied by me. At all times it is important for me to know where uke is going and so I must follow her lead as I lead her following.
Thirty-two
When there is no one to receive it what happens to an attack?
I remember when I was with Maruyama Sensei that he always stressed that technique should be effective but that going out of one's way to injure an adversary was wrong. I teach my students the doctrine of least possible harm. It is my view that if walking away from a situation will avoid conflict then that is the correct technique to employ. If immobilizing an opponent will end the conflict then there is no point in injuring him. Of course least possible harm can escalate to killing an opponent if the situation warrants. It is my responsibility as a practitioner of Aikido to determine the correct response to a given situation. Gravely injuring or killing a person when a lesser response is adequate to defuse the conflict, and then blaming it on an 'instinctive reaction' is unacceptable. Why else am I training if not to learn to react to stress calmly centered?
As a student and teacher of Aikido I am called on to adopt to a high standard of conduct both in peaceful daily life and in a conflict situation. Yamada Shihan puts it this way in Aikido Complete:
"Uyeshiba discovered the spiritual potential of the martial arts. He believed that the basic principles of the universe are harmony and love and that these can be attained through the martial arts. He believed that a doctrine which does not teach these principles is not a true martial art."
and,
"The main purpose of Aikido is to build a strong mind, body and spirit for use in daily life. In addition, however, Aikido also trains its students to live in harmony with themselves and with one another."
I remember when I was with Maruyama Sensei that he always stressed that technique should be effective but that going out of one's way to injure an adversary was wrong. I teach my students the doctrine of least possible harm. It is my view that if walking away from a situation will avoid conflict then that is the correct technique to employ. If immobilizing an opponent will end the conflict then there is no point in injuring him. Of course least possible harm can escalate to killing an opponent if the situation warrants. It is my responsibility as a practitioner of Aikido to determine the correct response to a given situation. Gravely injuring or killing a person when a lesser response is adequate to defuse the conflict, and then blaming it on an 'instinctive reaction' is unacceptable. Why else am I training if not to learn to react to stress calmly centered?
As a student and teacher of Aikido I am called on to adopt to a high standard of conduct both in peaceful daily life and in a conflict situation. Yamada Shihan puts it this way in Aikido Complete:
"Uyeshiba discovered the spiritual potential of the martial arts. He believed that the basic principles of the universe are harmony and love and that these can be attained through the martial arts. He believed that a doctrine which does not teach these principles is not a true martial art."
and,
"The main purpose of Aikido is to build a strong mind, body and spirit for use in daily life. In addition, however, Aikido also trains its students to live in harmony with themselves and with one another."
Thirty-one
Motion is a universal constant, the tie that binds.
It is only through motion that the concept of time derives any relevance. Time is a construct I use to order the events of my life. It is how I construct my past and delineate my future. It has been said that time is what keeps everything from happening all at once. The fact is that everything that happens does happen all at once, at now.
Motion occurs because I remember now as the past and anticipate now as the future. The connectedness of my memories and anticipations gives rise to the illusion that now moves from past to future and that events follow one another in ordered sequence.
I am always centered at now. There are, however, degrees of centeredness. My body remains perfectly located at now. My mind defines the radius of my center. Dwelling on the past and future increases the radius of my center. When I let go of past and future the radius of my center shrinks. As the radius of my center becomes smaller, my mind and body grow more coordinated. Aikido training is the method I have chosen to help me realize coordination of mind/body and hence reduce the radius of my center.
What does the world look like when the radius of my center is zero and my mind and body are perfectly coordinated?
Can self awareness exist when the radius of my center is zero?
It is only through motion that the concept of time derives any relevance. Time is a construct I use to order the events of my life. It is how I construct my past and delineate my future. It has been said that time is what keeps everything from happening all at once. The fact is that everything that happens does happen all at once, at now.
Motion occurs because I remember now as the past and anticipate now as the future. The connectedness of my memories and anticipations gives rise to the illusion that now moves from past to future and that events follow one another in ordered sequence.
I am always centered at now. There are, however, degrees of centeredness. My body remains perfectly located at now. My mind defines the radius of my center. Dwelling on the past and future increases the radius of my center. When I let go of past and future the radius of my center shrinks. As the radius of my center becomes smaller, my mind and body grow more coordinated. Aikido training is the method I have chosen to help me realize coordination of mind/body and hence reduce the radius of my center.
What does the world look like when the radius of my center is zero and my mind and body are perfectly coordinated?
Can self awareness exist when the radius of my center is zero?
Thirty
Light reveals what darkness hides, I hold my own candle to illuminate the path.
Aikido belongs to the world. With each passing day the number of people finding Aikido grows larger and more diversified. It is no longer possible for anyone to lay claim to being the final arbiter of what is and is not Aikido. The art itself has grown beyond the bounds that people or organizations try to enclose it in. And for that we should all be thankful. For the growth of Aikido, its multi-directedness, has only enriched the art and those who follow its many paths.
An art that does not change and grow to reflect the times in which it is practiced and taught will eventually wither and fade into relative obscurity. I do not believe that O-Sensei meant for this to happen to Aikido. He recognized that his art would change with the changing times and so embraced change as a natural consequence of growth.
The politics, the titles, the claim of legitimacy and the accusation of its opposite are all just window dressing. All that matters is training. Each hour I spend on the mat is another hour spent on the mat; another hour that moves me inexorably closer to the perfect unification of mind and body. That is my goal. Others have other goals and I wish them well.
Aikido belongs to the world. With each passing day the number of people finding Aikido grows larger and more diversified. It is no longer possible for anyone to lay claim to being the final arbiter of what is and is not Aikido. The art itself has grown beyond the bounds that people or organizations try to enclose it in. And for that we should all be thankful. For the growth of Aikido, its multi-directedness, has only enriched the art and those who follow its many paths.
An art that does not change and grow to reflect the times in which it is practiced and taught will eventually wither and fade into relative obscurity. I do not believe that O-Sensei meant for this to happen to Aikido. He recognized that his art would change with the changing times and so embraced change as a natural consequence of growth.
The politics, the titles, the claim of legitimacy and the accusation of its opposite are all just window dressing. All that matters is training. Each hour I spend on the mat is another hour spent on the mat; another hour that moves me inexorably closer to the perfect unification of mind and body. That is my goal. Others have other goals and I wish them well.
Tuesday, August 25, 2009
Twenty-nine
Get in a right stance and offer your right arm to your partner, elbow and wrist slightly bent and relaxed. Have him grab your wrist just above the joint and push towards your shoulder. Relax and absorb the force so that it flows thru you and is dissipated into the ground via your rear foot. While your partner continues to push slowly pivot on both feet until you turn 180 degrees. Be sure to keep your hand in front of you as you turn. Your partner should follow your turn and move in so he can continue to hold your wrist and push. You and your partner are now facing the same direction. Your partner is still pushing but instead of the force coming at you, you feel yourself being pulled. Again, don't try to resist, just let go of your arm, settle into your center and redirect the force of the pull downwards and into the ground via your front foot. Your partner will now reverse the direction of the pull and test you by exerting force back towards your shoulder. As in the original push, absorb the force and let it travel thru you and into the ground via your rear foot.
It's important to pivot slowly in this exercise. A slow pivot allows you to really feel how the applied force changes direction and how your body structure and center are thereby affected. Your partner, as you become more comfortable with this exercise, should steadily increase the amount of force applied. Keep in mind that this isn't a contest and the object is for you to help each other find and enhance correct feeling while being continually stressed.
It's important to pivot slowly in this exercise. A slow pivot allows you to really feel how the applied force changes direction and how your body structure and center are thereby affected. Your partner, as you become more comfortable with this exercise, should steadily increase the amount of force applied. Keep in mind that this isn't a contest and the object is for you to help each other find and enhance correct feeling while being continually stressed.
Twenty-eight
Before the attack lies intent, upon which I can move with impunity.
This has to do with the physiology of the human body and its interaction with the mind.
There is a moment before I am attacked when I am able to move and my attacker is unable to do anything about it. I have a small window of opportunity between the time when the decision to attack is reached and when the attack is launched. Thought to action is not instantaneous. There is a slight lag while the signals from the brain are transmitted throughout the body to the muscles required to execute the attack.
I call this time interval the intent. Move on the intent. Sounds easy; but how do I determine when the intent is? There is no intellectual way of making this determination. The ability to sense the intent comes only through training. As I continue to train I begin to feel the intent viscerally. If I can banish fear from my mind, move without forethought and acquire mindbody I will be able to make use of the interval and not be there when the attack arrives. This ability requires many years of practice to develop to a point where I can sense the intent with any regularity.
This has to do with the physiology of the human body and its interaction with the mind.
There is a moment before I am attacked when I am able to move and my attacker is unable to do anything about it. I have a small window of opportunity between the time when the decision to attack is reached and when the attack is launched. Thought to action is not instantaneous. There is a slight lag while the signals from the brain are transmitted throughout the body to the muscles required to execute the attack.
I call this time interval the intent. Move on the intent. Sounds easy; but how do I determine when the intent is? There is no intellectual way of making this determination. The ability to sense the intent comes only through training. As I continue to train I begin to feel the intent viscerally. If I can banish fear from my mind, move without forethought and acquire mindbody I will be able to make use of the interval and not be there when the attack arrives. This ability requires many years of practice to develop to a point where I can sense the intent with any regularity.
Twenty-seven
Movement through time is an illusion.
Now does not permit motion. Now has no extension either into the past or into the future. Now is the dimensionless present and the motion I perceive occurs because I can never experience now in its completeness. If I could, then all motion would cease and time would stand still. It follows that I must exist close to now but never quite reaching now in its fullness. It further follows that if I cannot exist at now I must exist all around it. Around now are past and future wherein I exist both forward and backward from now. Since past and future are creations of my mind, necessary to make sense of now that changes continually, I am led to conclude that motion through time is an illusion. What I perceive as motion is remembrance of things past and anticipation of things to come.
Via Aikido, I am able to approach now in an ordered way. I can approach now without limit. I cannot, however, reach now in any real sense. I will be forever locked out of now, existing in past and future to some limitled degree. Training allows me to make the limit smaller and smaller as I learn to lose myself in the moment and consequently become less and less aware of my self.
Now does not permit motion. Now has no extension either into the past or into the future. Now is the dimensionless present and the motion I perceive occurs because I can never experience now in its completeness. If I could, then all motion would cease and time would stand still. It follows that I must exist close to now but never quite reaching now in its fullness. It further follows that if I cannot exist at now I must exist all around it. Around now are past and future wherein I exist both forward and backward from now. Since past and future are creations of my mind, necessary to make sense of now that changes continually, I am led to conclude that motion through time is an illusion. What I perceive as motion is remembrance of things past and anticipation of things to come.
Via Aikido, I am able to approach now in an ordered way. I can approach now without limit. I cannot, however, reach now in any real sense. I will be forever locked out of now, existing in past and future to some limitled degree. Training allows me to make the limit smaller and smaller as I learn to lose myself in the moment and consequently become less and less aware of my self.
Twenty-six
Interpreting my sensory input I create the universe but it's physical only and who can believe that it's all there is?
The universe is vast beyond my comprehension. And yet, in a sense, I create the very universe that I can't begin to comprehend. The universe I experience is a result of my interpretation of what my senses gather. The interpretation in turn is affected by who I am and what I have learned over the years. Beneath it all lies the question: is there an underlying ‘real' reality?
You and I can look at the same apple and agree it is red. But when pressed for details we will not agree precisely on the ‘redness' of the red. We are both approximating the color red based on the limitation of our visual acuity. Who's right? Is there a real red beyond our field of vision? Does it matter?
Aikido is like the apple. I create my Aikido from sensory input provided by my partner when he attacks me. All that I have learned about Aikido plus how I view the universe and my place in it will aid me in interpreting that input, from which will arise technique of a certain form. You will go through the same process and the form of your technique will be slightly different from mine. Can it ever be otherwise? Whose technique is right? Is there a ‘real' Aikido that lies beyond our ability to perceive it? Does it matter?
The universe is vast beyond my comprehension. And yet, in a sense, I create the very universe that I can't begin to comprehend. The universe I experience is a result of my interpretation of what my senses gather. The interpretation in turn is affected by who I am and what I have learned over the years. Beneath it all lies the question: is there an underlying ‘real' reality?
You and I can look at the same apple and agree it is red. But when pressed for details we will not agree precisely on the ‘redness' of the red. We are both approximating the color red based on the limitation of our visual acuity. Who's right? Is there a real red beyond our field of vision? Does it matter?
Aikido is like the apple. I create my Aikido from sensory input provided by my partner when he attacks me. All that I have learned about Aikido plus how I view the universe and my place in it will aid me in interpreting that input, from which will arise technique of a certain form. You will go through the same process and the form of your technique will be slightly different from mine. Can it ever be otherwise? Whose technique is right? Is there a ‘real' Aikido that lies beyond our ability to perceive it? Does it matter?
Twenty-five
Some believe unbendable arm is a trick, a ruse to fool the masses; still though, the arm doesn't bend, does it?
Unbendable arm is what hooked me on Aikido. As a life long resistance trainer, the fact that I could, without overt muscular resistance, keep my arm from bending while someone much bigger and stronger strained to bring my hand to my shoulder awakened in me the idea that Aikido held mysteries worth plumbing.
Unbendable arm is a Ki exercise. I learn, from performing this exercise, that strength isn't merely bulging muscles and that there is a profound difference between stiff and soft. Ki exercises provide me with a way to train myself to find a reliable state of being while being tested in various ways. There's no mystery here, just practice. Ongoing practice of Ki exercises sets up a feedback loop within me that continually corrects my efforts.
Ki development is attainable by anyone. There are no select few who possess arcane secrets that can be passed on to a further select few and so on. Maruyama Sensei told Mary and me that "Ueshiba did it, I do it and you can do it too." Anyone is capable of doing what he does, it's a matter of practice, practice and more practice.
Unbendable arm is what hooked me on Aikido. As a life long resistance trainer, the fact that I could, without overt muscular resistance, keep my arm from bending while someone much bigger and stronger strained to bring my hand to my shoulder awakened in me the idea that Aikido held mysteries worth plumbing.
Unbendable arm is a Ki exercise. I learn, from performing this exercise, that strength isn't merely bulging muscles and that there is a profound difference between stiff and soft. Ki exercises provide me with a way to train myself to find a reliable state of being while being tested in various ways. There's no mystery here, just practice. Ongoing practice of Ki exercises sets up a feedback loop within me that continually corrects my efforts.
Ki development is attainable by anyone. There are no select few who possess arcane secrets that can be passed on to a further select few and so on. Maruyama Sensei told Mary and me that "Ueshiba did it, I do it and you can do it too." Anyone is capable of doing what he does, it's a matter of practice, practice and more practice.
Twenty-four
Stillness in motion is the core of my practice. I seek to move while remaining where I am in order to present a target that isn't there but elsewhere when the attack arrives. That is the essence of evasion.
Moving from a standstill is far more difficult than changing direction. The weight of an immobile body tends to sink to the feet and must be redistributed before motion can begin. A body in motion can change direction with relative ease.
When practicing I always keep moving. Having thrown my partner, I make it a point to continue moving while he gathers himself for another attack. In this way I'm never caught flat-footed. Strangely, it's not necessary that I keep my feet moving for this to work. Any part of my body will do. I find that as long as I'm moving something, my weight will remain off my feet and concentrated at my center. This enables me to move easily in any direction without time-wasting weight redistribution prior to moving.
Being constantly on the move also presents uke with a more difficult target to hit or grab. I am always presenting uke with little openings that appear and then go away and I try to keep my tempo varied and non-rhythmical. My motion, while smooth and flowing, is peppered with sudden changes in direction and/or speed.
To get used to this type of moving I rely heavily on the bokken and jo staff. I devise short combinations of strikes and blocks that employ changes of direction and varying speeds. I vary the tempo within the exercise at different points and then change when the tempo varies the next time through. All the while I move, strike and block from my center and allow some of myself to flow into the weapon thereby blurring the distinction between me and it.
Moving from a standstill is far more difficult than changing direction. The weight of an immobile body tends to sink to the feet and must be redistributed before motion can begin. A body in motion can change direction with relative ease.
When practicing I always keep moving. Having thrown my partner, I make it a point to continue moving while he gathers himself for another attack. In this way I'm never caught flat-footed. Strangely, it's not necessary that I keep my feet moving for this to work. Any part of my body will do. I find that as long as I'm moving something, my weight will remain off my feet and concentrated at my center. This enables me to move easily in any direction without time-wasting weight redistribution prior to moving.
Being constantly on the move also presents uke with a more difficult target to hit or grab. I am always presenting uke with little openings that appear and then go away and I try to keep my tempo varied and non-rhythmical. My motion, while smooth and flowing, is peppered with sudden changes in direction and/or speed.
To get used to this type of moving I rely heavily on the bokken and jo staff. I devise short combinations of strikes and blocks that employ changes of direction and varying speeds. I vary the tempo within the exercise at different points and then change when the tempo varies the next time through. All the while I move, strike and block from my center and allow some of myself to flow into the weapon thereby blurring the distinction between me and it.
Twenty-three
I am more than the sum of my parts which cannot be summed at all.
There are times, fortunately few and widely separated, when I believe that my views about Aikido should be recognized by others because I have something of worth to say. It's at times like these that Aikido seems important on more than a personal level; that it is meaningful in the larger sense of the word and that I must defend my interpretation of the art when my ideas are assailed by others. This is, of course, laughable.
To think that I have latched onto a Truth and that my vision has been expanded beyond that of a normal mortal borders on delusional. When I begin see Ron as Sage of the Age the time is ripe for me to inadvertently bop myself in the head with my jo staff or trip over my own hakama while demonstrating in front of a packed class. Thank goodness for reality checks!
I am realizing that I have nothing to defend, that the light I use to illuminate my path is my light only, that those who study with me do so not because I have so much to give them but because I provide them a venue to give of themselves and so discover who they are. And that is where the real truth of Aikido lies (interesting juxtaposition of words, no?), the synergy of a class of dedicated students, all of us struggling on our individual roads coming together for a few hours a week to create something beautiful by opening ourselves up to our Aikido.
O-Sensei created Aikido as a way of making the world a more peaceful place to live. I see and feel this every time I get on the mat to teach and train.
There are times, fortunately few and widely separated, when I believe that my views about Aikido should be recognized by others because I have something of worth to say. It's at times like these that Aikido seems important on more than a personal level; that it is meaningful in the larger sense of the word and that I must defend my interpretation of the art when my ideas are assailed by others. This is, of course, laughable.
To think that I have latched onto a Truth and that my vision has been expanded beyond that of a normal mortal borders on delusional. When I begin see Ron as Sage of the Age the time is ripe for me to inadvertently bop myself in the head with my jo staff or trip over my own hakama while demonstrating in front of a packed class. Thank goodness for reality checks!
I am realizing that I have nothing to defend, that the light I use to illuminate my path is my light only, that those who study with me do so not because I have so much to give them but because I provide them a venue to give of themselves and so discover who they are. And that is where the real truth of Aikido lies (interesting juxtaposition of words, no?), the synergy of a class of dedicated students, all of us struggling on our individual roads coming together for a few hours a week to create something beautiful by opening ourselves up to our Aikido.
O-Sensei created Aikido as a way of making the world a more peaceful place to live. I see and feel this every time I get on the mat to teach and train.
Twenty-two
Knowledge of Aikido comes from within, as a teacher it's my job to allow students to express it.
Aikido is, first and foremost, a path I have chosen to travel. The meaning I derive from the teaching I've had and the studying I've done on my own is germane to me and helps shape the road I'm traveling. My students have chosen to come with me for a time and share my interpretation of what Aikido is. Along the way other branches of the path present themselves and sometimes a student will wander away in another direction. We're all responsible for our own Aikido.
As a way of peace through harmony and mutual respect, Aikido works for me. As a martial art that I can use to protect myself and my family, Aikido works for me too. As a vehicle of personal growth and enlightenment, ditto. These ideas are not mutually exclusive.
What I don't insist is that anyone follow my way. I teach my students that Aikido comes from within and it's my job to provide them with a venue in which to explore the Aikido within themselves and help them to express what they feel.
Aikido is, first and foremost, a path I have chosen to travel. The meaning I derive from the teaching I've had and the studying I've done on my own is germane to me and helps shape the road I'm traveling. My students have chosen to come with me for a time and share my interpretation of what Aikido is. Along the way other branches of the path present themselves and sometimes a student will wander away in another direction. We're all responsible for our own Aikido.
As a way of peace through harmony and mutual respect, Aikido works for me. As a martial art that I can use to protect myself and my family, Aikido works for me too. As a vehicle of personal growth and enlightenment, ditto. These ideas are not mutually exclusive.
What I don't insist is that anyone follow my way. I teach my students that Aikido comes from within and it's my job to provide them with a venue in which to explore the Aikido within themselves and help them to express what they feel.
Twenty-one
Grab both of your partner's forearms just above his wrists while he stands in a right stance. Making sure that he is squared up and facing you directly, tell him to stiffen by tensing his muscles. Tell him to resist you when you begin to push. Push into him and note how much energy is required to take him off balance. Now have your partner relax the muscle tension. Tell him to let his arms bend slightly at the elbows and wrists and drop his center slightly by bending his knees. Tell him to keep one point and extend ki (or, feel free to insert your favorite metaphor). Instead of resisting suggest that he absorb the energy of the push and let it travel thru his body and on into the ground at his rear foot. Tell him to let the relaxed joints of his bent arms dissipate the force, unlike his stiff arms in the prior test which concentrated the force at his shoulders. Now using the same amount of energy as in the first test, push into him. When he doesn't move begin to increase the power of your push gradually.
As the student becomes more familiar with the idea of absorbing and dissipating instead of resisting forces, have him bring the rear foot closer and closer to the front foot in subsequent iterations of the test until he's doing it from a natural stance with both feet parallel to one another.
As the one pushing your responsibility is to help your partner find and reinforce the correct feeling of being able to absorb the energy of your push. Therefore carefully direct your push into his strength, which is generally slightly down in the direction of his center. This is especially important for beginners as it is very easy for them to become discouraged if you don't allow them to discover where their strength lies by deliberately pushing in odd directions away from their centers. When students become more experienced with this kind of testing you can vary the force vectors to allow them to "move their centers around" as you push off line.
As the student becomes more familiar with the idea of absorbing and dissipating instead of resisting forces, have him bring the rear foot closer and closer to the front foot in subsequent iterations of the test until he's doing it from a natural stance with both feet parallel to one another.
As the one pushing your responsibility is to help your partner find and reinforce the correct feeling of being able to absorb the energy of your push. Therefore carefully direct your push into his strength, which is generally slightly down in the direction of his center. This is especially important for beginners as it is very easy for them to become discouraged if you don't allow them to discover where their strength lies by deliberately pushing in odd directions away from their centers. When students become more experienced with this kind of testing you can vary the force vectors to allow them to "move their centers around" as you push off line.
Twenty
I am ultimately responsible for my own Aikido.
As an instructor I impart only enough to invoke. My goal is to have each student realize Aikido from within.
Aikido is a matter of attaining correct feeling, of attuning myself with the rhythms I continually set into motion by the nature of my existence.
If I find myself in conflict with another I must examine what fear of mine is providing me with the negative energy required to perpetuate the conflict. Purging the fear will remove the danger and negate the necessity for the conflict to continue. I can accomplish this unilaterally.
Aikido encompasses even those who would limit its growth.
I can find Ki only by looking inward.
As an instructor I impart only enough to invoke. My goal is to have each student realize Aikido from within.
Aikido is a matter of attaining correct feeling, of attuning myself with the rhythms I continually set into motion by the nature of my existence.
If I find myself in conflict with another I must examine what fear of mine is providing me with the negative energy required to perpetuate the conflict. Purging the fear will remove the danger and negate the necessity for the conflict to continue. I can accomplish this unilaterally.
Aikido encompasses even those who would limit its growth.
I can find Ki only by looking inward.
Nineteen
I don't observe the attack, I become the attacker and see myself through the attacker's eyes.
The center of conflict is the focal point of any attack. If the attacker can occupy this point she will more than likely control all aspects of the conflict. That is why, as nage, I always seek to occupy the center of the conflict. In this way I can see the situation from any point of view that I wish. When I link myself to the center of conflict I become one with uke and so merge attack and defense into one entity thereby neutralizing the intended harm. There are many phrases used in Aikido instruction to illustrate this point: lead uke's mind, lead the attack, harmonize with uke, redirect uke's energy etc.
For this to be effective I must willingly abandon thoughts of defending myself and simply immerse myself in the flow of the action. It is only then that I will be able to achieve the unification of the opposing forces that form the nucleus of the conflict, and bring forth a new frictionless unity of purpose. Attack and defense disappear and resolution without decision emerges.
The center of conflict is the focal point of any attack. If the attacker can occupy this point she will more than likely control all aspects of the conflict. That is why, as nage, I always seek to occupy the center of the conflict. In this way I can see the situation from any point of view that I wish. When I link myself to the center of conflict I become one with uke and so merge attack and defense into one entity thereby neutralizing the intended harm. There are many phrases used in Aikido instruction to illustrate this point: lead uke's mind, lead the attack, harmonize with uke, redirect uke's energy etc.
For this to be effective I must willingly abandon thoughts of defending myself and simply immerse myself in the flow of the action. It is only then that I will be able to achieve the unification of the opposing forces that form the nucleus of the conflict, and bring forth a new frictionless unity of purpose. Attack and defense disappear and resolution without decision emerges.
Eighteen
That which I am always was, always will be, though in other guises yet to be revealed.
As I have grown older the reality of my mortality has pounded ever louder on my door. I have begun to think about what it is that ‘I' am and what makes me so keenly aware of my own existence. I am me in this form for the briefest of time. When that time is up I'll cease to be me as I am and…. what?
Is that it? Will I just sort of unwind; my body decompose and its constituents return to the universe to be reconfigured in some other guise at some other time and place? And what of me that isn't my body; my awareness? Is awareness simply a function of being human and alive? Does awareness arise from the interaction of chemicals in my brain? Or is there more to it?
Aikido training touches more than my body. It hones my spirit as well. While training I am afforded a glimpse of something larger than myself of which I am an integral part. In my view of the world, we as human beings are part of a larger consciousness that is struggling to awaken and grow; to take its rightful place among other such entities which in turn will give rise to an even larger consciousness etc. If we manage to outlast our self-destructive tendencies and get off this planet to expand throughout our galactic neighborhood we will eventually reach a critical mass and so give birth to what we are destined to become.
As I have grown older the reality of my mortality has pounded ever louder on my door. I have begun to think about what it is that ‘I' am and what makes me so keenly aware of my own existence. I am me in this form for the briefest of time. When that time is up I'll cease to be me as I am and…. what?
Is that it? Will I just sort of unwind; my body decompose and its constituents return to the universe to be reconfigured in some other guise at some other time and place? And what of me that isn't my body; my awareness? Is awareness simply a function of being human and alive? Does awareness arise from the interaction of chemicals in my brain? Or is there more to it?
Aikido training touches more than my body. It hones my spirit as well. While training I am afforded a glimpse of something larger than myself of which I am an integral part. In my view of the world, we as human beings are part of a larger consciousness that is struggling to awaken and grow; to take its rightful place among other such entities which in turn will give rise to an even larger consciousness etc. If we manage to outlast our self-destructive tendencies and get off this planet to expand throughout our galactic neighborhood we will eventually reach a critical mass and so give birth to what we are destined to become.
Seventeen
This is a very simple example of one way to teach a beginner to move from his center. Have nage stand in a natural stance. Touch the top of nage's head and say ‘concentrate here'. Put the fingertips of your hand just below nage's collar bone and push with increasing force towards the nage's spine and slightly downward. Note how much force you have to exert in order to move nage off balance. Return nage to natural stance.
Touch nage's one point and say ‘concentrate here'. Put the fingertips of your hand just below nage's collar bone and push with increasing force towards nage's spine and slightly downward. As you push, remind nage to ‘keep one point' and ‘extend ki'. With practice nage will be able to absorb greater amounts of force applied to the push than you initially used to push him off balance.
Once nage can perform this exercise successfully from standing it's quite easy to have him begin walking into the push and move you off balance. The exercise is performed as above but instead of standing and absorbing the push, nage literally walks into it. At first, while consciously avoiding concentrating on one point, nage will be taken off balance because his upper body will not move forward as he begins to walk. When nage switches to keeping one point he will begin to be able to walk through the push with relative ease.
The choice of metaphors you use to help nage visualize what is going on in this exercise is unimportant. You can talk about ground path, facial contraction, body connection, friction, angular momentum or whatever. Students will develop their own images to visualize the feeling of centeredness (what we call correct feeling or their strongest possible state). The feedback from the pushing is what allows nage to learn what feels dependable and then enhance and strengthen that feeling in order to absorb more force as uke gradually turns up the juice.
As with all paired ki exercises that involve testing it's important to remember that this isn't a contest. Uke's job is to aid nage by applying the correct amount of force in order to facilitate nage's ability to absorb the force and remain stable whether standing or in motion.
Touch nage's one point and say ‘concentrate here'. Put the fingertips of your hand just below nage's collar bone and push with increasing force towards nage's spine and slightly downward. As you push, remind nage to ‘keep one point' and ‘extend ki'. With practice nage will be able to absorb greater amounts of force applied to the push than you initially used to push him off balance.
Once nage can perform this exercise successfully from standing it's quite easy to have him begin walking into the push and move you off balance. The exercise is performed as above but instead of standing and absorbing the push, nage literally walks into it. At first, while consciously avoiding concentrating on one point, nage will be taken off balance because his upper body will not move forward as he begins to walk. When nage switches to keeping one point he will begin to be able to walk through the push with relative ease.
The choice of metaphors you use to help nage visualize what is going on in this exercise is unimportant. You can talk about ground path, facial contraction, body connection, friction, angular momentum or whatever. Students will develop their own images to visualize the feeling of centeredness (what we call correct feeling or their strongest possible state). The feedback from the pushing is what allows nage to learn what feels dependable and then enhance and strengthen that feeling in order to absorb more force as uke gradually turns up the juice.
As with all paired ki exercises that involve testing it's important to remember that this isn't a contest. Uke's job is to aid nage by applying the correct amount of force in order to facilitate nage's ability to absorb the force and remain stable whether standing or in motion.
Sixteen
Recently Mary and I visited the Kaufman house, at Fallingwater, designed by Frank Lloyd Wright. After touring the house and grounds I thought to myself, here is a prime example of the principles of Aikido applied to daily life. The house is in perfect harmony with its surroundings. It doesn't so much sit on the site as seem to grow out of it, more like a natural formation than something built. The amazing thing is that Wright only visited the site once before designing the house. Now Wright never studied Aikido but he must have been aware on some intuitive level of the principles that underlie the art. This became evident to me when I sat and contemplated how the house conforms to the site.
I read about Aikido and whether or not it is an effective form of self-defense or how it ‘measures up' against other martial arts in regard to destructive capability and I wonder if people aren't maybe missing the point. Aikido is an engine of creation. Practicing it creates good feelings among the participants. Studying together with my students in the dojo I become aware of the community that has grown and developed from a collection of individuals who formerly had no relationships to one another.
I have begun to see what O-Sensei was trying to say about Aikido and how its dissemination throughout the world would make the world a better place in which to live. When quoting O-Sensei in this regard I am usually met with a response the starts with the equivalent of "Yeah but…". I have learned that my best response to that attitude is a mental shrug and to continue to practice and teach. The beauty of Aikido is that it will make itself known in all its fullness to each and every student in the student's own time.
I read about Aikido and whether or not it is an effective form of self-defense or how it ‘measures up' against other martial arts in regard to destructive capability and I wonder if people aren't maybe missing the point. Aikido is an engine of creation. Practicing it creates good feelings among the participants. Studying together with my students in the dojo I become aware of the community that has grown and developed from a collection of individuals who formerly had no relationships to one another.
I have begun to see what O-Sensei was trying to say about Aikido and how its dissemination throughout the world would make the world a better place in which to live. When quoting O-Sensei in this regard I am usually met with a response the starts with the equivalent of "Yeah but…". I have learned that my best response to that attitude is a mental shrug and to continue to practice and teach. The beauty of Aikido is that it will make itself known in all its fullness to each and every student in the student's own time.
Fifteen
n my view, the universe I find myself created from is also a product of my creation. Everything I learn, see, hear, feel, smell and taste gets combined within me, the result being my view of the universe. When I am sad and depressed the universe appears dark, cold and inhospitable. Conversely, when I am happy and uplifted the universe welcomes me with light, warmth and abundance.
Aikido training teaches me these things. Before Aikido I lived in a universe that was something other than me; a large mostly empty place in which I was less than a grain of sand on a beach. Now I can see that I am not in the universe at all, I am of it. The realization of the difference between ‘in' and ‘of' has had a profound effect on me. Aikido training is teaching me to cultivate peace within myself and hence bring peace to my universe. I believe that this is what O-Sensei discovered; that if enough people grow peace within themselves the world would perforce become a more peaceful place in which to live. Inner peace begets individual freedom which can be very frightening to some. Perhaps this is why some folks seek to suppress the idea of Aikido as a way of peace and harmony.
A while back I had to deal with a nagging back/rib injury, the pain of which waxed unbearable and waned to almost non-existent. When the pain rose the world seemed a hostile place. The light too bright, the temperature either too hot or too cold, strange smells assailed me in most unpleasant ways. Conversely, the world seemed much friendlier and more accommodating when the pain lessened. You get the general idea.
I found that while on the mat practicing the formerly hostile world would seem less so and my pain would fade into the background. As I immersed myself in the class I became more aware of my integration with the universe and less aware of my self-imposed differentiation from it. While isolated from the universe my pain was proportionally larger due to the relative smallness of my self. Becoming one with a much larger whole reduced the effect the pain had on me. I had, in effect, redefined the parameters of my universe (my self) and the superimposition of my pain thereon was spread out over a much larger being and diluted.
Aikido training teaches me these things. Before Aikido I lived in a universe that was something other than me; a large mostly empty place in which I was less than a grain of sand on a beach. Now I can see that I am not in the universe at all, I am of it. The realization of the difference between ‘in' and ‘of' has had a profound effect on me. Aikido training is teaching me to cultivate peace within myself and hence bring peace to my universe. I believe that this is what O-Sensei discovered; that if enough people grow peace within themselves the world would perforce become a more peaceful place in which to live. Inner peace begets individual freedom which can be very frightening to some. Perhaps this is why some folks seek to suppress the idea of Aikido as a way of peace and harmony.
A while back I had to deal with a nagging back/rib injury, the pain of which waxed unbearable and waned to almost non-existent. When the pain rose the world seemed a hostile place. The light too bright, the temperature either too hot or too cold, strange smells assailed me in most unpleasant ways. Conversely, the world seemed much friendlier and more accommodating when the pain lessened. You get the general idea.
I found that while on the mat practicing the formerly hostile world would seem less so and my pain would fade into the background. As I immersed myself in the class I became more aware of my integration with the universe and less aware of my self-imposed differentiation from it. While isolated from the universe my pain was proportionally larger due to the relative smallness of my self. Becoming one with a much larger whole reduced the effect the pain had on me. I had, in effect, redefined the parameters of my universe (my self) and the superimposition of my pain thereon was spread out over a much larger being and diluted.
Fourteen
A bokken is not a proxy sword. It is made of wood, contains no finely honed edges to cut with and no sharpened point to thrust and puncture with. As such, I am able to use the bokken in ways that would be unwise to attempt with a sword.
Bokken practice affords me the opportunity to perfect my movement, strengthen my center, condition my body and perform complex motions while employing all my tools simultaneously. Working with the bokken from the inside has had a profound impact on my approach to teaching/learning Aikido and my technique.
I don't teach the bokken katas I learned in Kokikai. In fact, I have dispensed with katas altogether. Instead I employ short 3 or 4 step forms that I make up as I go along. Some contain simple transitions between strikes and parries; others are much more intricate. We practice them for a while, concentrating on the motion, not the specific blows and blocks. We'll then move on to something else. I tell my students to forget the specifics and feel the dynamic that arises between them and their weapons. I don't want them memorizing long sequences of prearranged movements. This kind of rote learning stifles spontaneity and creativity. The student concentrates on learning the moves and as a result loses the meaning of the motion that connects the individual techniques.
In bokken practice the emphasis is on the motion and locating and occupying the center that is common to both the me and the bokken. This gets really interesting in multiple person drills where the geometry of the motion becomes more complex.
Bokken practice affords me the opportunity to perfect my movement, strengthen my center, condition my body and perform complex motions while employing all my tools simultaneously. Working with the bokken from the inside has had a profound impact on my approach to teaching/learning Aikido and my technique.
I don't teach the bokken katas I learned in Kokikai. In fact, I have dispensed with katas altogether. Instead I employ short 3 or 4 step forms that I make up as I go along. Some contain simple transitions between strikes and parries; others are much more intricate. We practice them for a while, concentrating on the motion, not the specific blows and blocks. We'll then move on to something else. I tell my students to forget the specifics and feel the dynamic that arises between them and their weapons. I don't want them memorizing long sequences of prearranged movements. This kind of rote learning stifles spontaneity and creativity. The student concentrates on learning the moves and as a result loses the meaning of the motion that connects the individual techniques.
In bokken practice the emphasis is on the motion and locating and occupying the center that is common to both the me and the bokken. This gets really interesting in multiple person drills where the geometry of the motion becomes more complex.
Thirteen
Is an eddy in the river or of the river? Is it distinguished from the river in any fundamental way other than my perception of it? If the configuration of the river changes and the eddy disappears has something been taken from the river; is the river lessened by the disappearance of the eddy? I am like that eddy; a temporary arrangement of matter/energy of the continuum. I come into existence and, after a time, cease to be and become another arrangement. The universe is not increased by my appearance nor lessened by my absence.
Self awareness allows me to ponder the larger totality of being around me but in no way separates me from it. For there to be a real distinction a boundary must exist. Where is the boundary that separates me from the universe? Can it be perceived, measured, touched or otherwise empirically proved? Does it have an effect on my surroundings so that it's existence may be inferred from the measurable behavior of other objects? If not then the implication of a "separation or distinction from other" cannot be a boundary in actuality. It must arise from something else.
The equating of self awareness and separation is learned. I have to be taught to differentiate myself from the universe, to individualize. Having learned this lesson has led to my perceived isolation from the universe. The road of Aikido is my path to reintegration with the universe.
All that makes me "me" is drawn to and concentrated at my center. The study of Aikido has taught me this on both intellectual and visceral levels. The truth of this can be felt on the mat during practice when the duality of uke and nage merge to unity.
Self awareness gives me the ability to choose how I will view my own existence in relation to the universe. I can opt for integration or separation. The important point is that the option is mine to choose.
Self awareness allows me to ponder the larger totality of being around me but in no way separates me from it. For there to be a real distinction a boundary must exist. Where is the boundary that separates me from the universe? Can it be perceived, measured, touched or otherwise empirically proved? Does it have an effect on my surroundings so that it's existence may be inferred from the measurable behavior of other objects? If not then the implication of a "separation or distinction from other" cannot be a boundary in actuality. It must arise from something else.
The equating of self awareness and separation is learned. I have to be taught to differentiate myself from the universe, to individualize. Having learned this lesson has led to my perceived isolation from the universe. The road of Aikido is my path to reintegration with the universe.
All that makes me "me" is drawn to and concentrated at my center. The study of Aikido has taught me this on both intellectual and visceral levels. The truth of this can be felt on the mat during practice when the duality of uke and nage merge to unity.
Self awareness gives me the ability to choose how I will view my own existence in relation to the universe. I can opt for integration or separation. The important point is that the option is mine to choose.
Twelve
You can't see ki; can't touch it, taste it, smell it or hear it. Ki can't be measured in the physicists' lab; can't be shown to have any measurable effects on massive objects. While it is elusive in the manner of dark matter or dark energy ki can be felt by human beings. And it's at this point where many Aikido practitioners lose their way regarding ki. Invariably they are wont to ask ‘What is ki?' One might as well ask what is love or hate or envy or any other feeling. For ki is feeling. It is the feeling one has when one's mind and body are coordinated (same place, same time, same activity). Relegating ki to the realm of feelings precludes the question of whether ki has independent existence in the physical world.
Released from the burden of having to determine whether ki exists or not, the student is free to develop an understanding of what ki feels like and this is where the use of metaphor comes into play. Human beings use metaphors to explain and make sense of the universe. Metaphors can be simple such as "saving time" (good) or "wasting time" (bad). Metaphors can also be complex such as E=mc*2 (a mathematical metaphor used to show that mass and energy are inexorably related, the essence of each contained within the other). Feelings are depicted metaphorically all the time "love is sweet" and "the bitter fruit of jealousy", for example. Indeed, much of poetry is concerned with describing feelings in everyday terms through the use of metaphor. Viewing ki as a feeling allows one to create metaphors that can be employed to develop this feeling, come to an understanding of it and ultimately enhance it.
From what knowledge of ki I have accumulated over the years, I see two fundamental paradigms emerge when it comes to understanding the nature of ki. One paradigm is based on "independent ki" metaphors; the other on "dependent ki" metaphors.
Independent ki metaphors emphasize the cultivation of ki as an external resource. Concentrate ki at the one point, extend ki, let ki flow freely are all metaphors that invoke images of ki as existing independently of the Aikido practitioner. From this point of view the student is seen to be a vessel for storing and concentrating ki and also a conduit through which ki is able to flow and be directed. Ki is accorded independent existence. It has properties which can be felt by the student; properties which when cultivated allow the student to perform at a level greater than can be explained by the student's physical being alone.
Dependent ki metaphors evoke images of ki as being generated within the student's body by the correct application of principles of movement, ground path mechanisms, fascia and other structural conditioning etc. Dependent ki metaphors remove ki as existing independently of the student and replace it with ki as a generated force.
Let's look at unbendable arm for a moment in light of both classes of metaphors. When I began Aikido the first thing I was taught was unbendable arm. It was explained that I should relax, keep one point and extend ki from my center through my arm and let it go out and away. I did these things (that is I imagined what I would feel like when these things were happening) and when tested, my arm did not bend. Conversely unbendable arm could have been explained to me in terms of the juxtaposition of opposing muscle groups and how by correctly manipulating them I could keep my partner from bending my arm. Or I could have been told to let my body absorb the applied force on my arm and let the force flow through me on into the ground. In any case, translating the metaphor into the correct feeling will result in my partner being unable to bend my arm.
These paradigms are fundamentally at odds. But isn't the conflict really illusory? We don't experience "reality" directly. We interpret sensory input in our brains and formulate our separate realities based on a host of filters and amplifiers that we have constructed over the span of our lives. The long and the short of it is we see the world metaphorically. As Aikido students, we learn to build metaphors to explain and understand the concepts ki. Who is to say that one person's ki metaphor is correct while another's is incorrect if the observed result of both students' Aikido execution is the same? If a student is taught unbendable arm using independent ki metaphors and another student is taught unbendable arm via dependent ki metaphors and when tested both students perform unbendable arm, which paradigm is right? Does it matter?
Released from the burden of having to determine whether ki exists or not, the student is free to develop an understanding of what ki feels like and this is where the use of metaphor comes into play. Human beings use metaphors to explain and make sense of the universe. Metaphors can be simple such as "saving time" (good) or "wasting time" (bad). Metaphors can also be complex such as E=mc*2 (a mathematical metaphor used to show that mass and energy are inexorably related, the essence of each contained within the other). Feelings are depicted metaphorically all the time "love is sweet" and "the bitter fruit of jealousy", for example. Indeed, much of poetry is concerned with describing feelings in everyday terms through the use of metaphor. Viewing ki as a feeling allows one to create metaphors that can be employed to develop this feeling, come to an understanding of it and ultimately enhance it.
From what knowledge of ki I have accumulated over the years, I see two fundamental paradigms emerge when it comes to understanding the nature of ki. One paradigm is based on "independent ki" metaphors; the other on "dependent ki" metaphors.
Independent ki metaphors emphasize the cultivation of ki as an external resource. Concentrate ki at the one point, extend ki, let ki flow freely are all metaphors that invoke images of ki as existing independently of the Aikido practitioner. From this point of view the student is seen to be a vessel for storing and concentrating ki and also a conduit through which ki is able to flow and be directed. Ki is accorded independent existence. It has properties which can be felt by the student; properties which when cultivated allow the student to perform at a level greater than can be explained by the student's physical being alone.
Dependent ki metaphors evoke images of ki as being generated within the student's body by the correct application of principles of movement, ground path mechanisms, fascia and other structural conditioning etc. Dependent ki metaphors remove ki as existing independently of the student and replace it with ki as a generated force.
Let's look at unbendable arm for a moment in light of both classes of metaphors. When I began Aikido the first thing I was taught was unbendable arm. It was explained that I should relax, keep one point and extend ki from my center through my arm and let it go out and away. I did these things (that is I imagined what I would feel like when these things were happening) and when tested, my arm did not bend. Conversely unbendable arm could have been explained to me in terms of the juxtaposition of opposing muscle groups and how by correctly manipulating them I could keep my partner from bending my arm. Or I could have been told to let my body absorb the applied force on my arm and let the force flow through me on into the ground. In any case, translating the metaphor into the correct feeling will result in my partner being unable to bend my arm.
These paradigms are fundamentally at odds. But isn't the conflict really illusory? We don't experience "reality" directly. We interpret sensory input in our brains and formulate our separate realities based on a host of filters and amplifiers that we have constructed over the span of our lives. The long and the short of it is we see the world metaphorically. As Aikido students, we learn to build metaphors to explain and understand the concepts ki. Who is to say that one person's ki metaphor is correct while another's is incorrect if the observed result of both students' Aikido execution is the same? If a student is taught unbendable arm using independent ki metaphors and another student is taught unbendable arm via dependent ki metaphors and when tested both students perform unbendable arm, which paradigm is right? Does it matter?
Eleven
Curiously, even though I am of the universe rather than in it, I can, on a conscious level remove myself from the universe and ponder its nature and my relationship to it. I think that this is what gives rise to the notion that I am a part of the universe but not necessarily fully integrated within its fabric. I don't remember the awakening of my consciousness, that point at which my individuality asserted itself and began the process of differentiating me from everything else. Perhaps this is because it occurred as a gradual process rather than a sudden explosion of realization.
My earliest recollections of individual awareness go back to when I was 3. Memory, it seems, is the marker for awareness. Prior to that point I have no awareness of my self as myself.
Since I am of the universe, I am it which, in turn, can look out upon what I have created with my minds eye and see itself for what it is. So I am both of and not of the universe; it's a matter of perspective.
Aikido training allows me to home in on my connection to the universe via the practice of technique. The most pervasive characteristic of the universe is motion and Aikido is the study of motion. Aikido technique when executed properly enables me to feel my relation to the larger existence from which I have been cast. The coordination of mind, body and spirit I experience when practicing integrates me with the universe in a way I last experienced when I wasn't aware that I am me. In essence, my study of Aikido has taken me full circle; from connected to separated back to connected. Interesting.
My earliest recollections of individual awareness go back to when I was 3. Memory, it seems, is the marker for awareness. Prior to that point I have no awareness of my self as myself.
Since I am of the universe, I am it which, in turn, can look out upon what I have created with my minds eye and see itself for what it is. So I am both of and not of the universe; it's a matter of perspective.
Aikido training allows me to home in on my connection to the universe via the practice of technique. The most pervasive characteristic of the universe is motion and Aikido is the study of motion. Aikido technique when executed properly enables me to feel my relation to the larger existence from which I have been cast. The coordination of mind, body and spirit I experience when practicing integrates me with the universe in a way I last experienced when I wasn't aware that I am me. In essence, my study of Aikido has taken me full circle; from connected to separated back to connected. Interesting.
Ten
Get in a right stance and extend your right arm straight out in front of you. Make a fist and keep your arm rigid along its entire length. Have your partner grab your wrist and push. Feel how his force travels up your arm and settles in your shoulder. Have your partner note how much force is exerted in order to bring you off balance.
Get in a right stance and extend your right arm out in front of you. This time let your fingers relax and curl and let your wrist relax and bend. Let your elbow relax and bend slightly. Have your partner grab your wrist and push with the same amount of force required to bring you off balance in the exercise above. If you relax and keep one point the force of his push will distribute itself along the various angles of your arm and very little of it will reach your shoulder.
These simple exercises illustrate the idea that when you are centered and relaxed you are much stronger than when you are tense and stiff. A relaxed body will naturally form angles at the joints that will cause forces applied to move around it's center and not be concentrated at a single point where the force will be most effective.
I use this and other Ki exercises to help students determine what Maruyama Sensei calls correct feeling. I have students experience both feelings and leave it to them to decide which is better.
Get in a right stance and extend your right arm out in front of you. This time let your fingers relax and curl and let your wrist relax and bend. Let your elbow relax and bend slightly. Have your partner grab your wrist and push with the same amount of force required to bring you off balance in the exercise above. If you relax and keep one point the force of his push will distribute itself along the various angles of your arm and very little of it will reach your shoulder.
These simple exercises illustrate the idea that when you are centered and relaxed you are much stronger than when you are tense and stiff. A relaxed body will naturally form angles at the joints that will cause forces applied to move around it's center and not be concentrated at a single point where the force will be most effective.
I use this and other Ki exercises to help students determine what Maruyama Sensei calls correct feeling. I have students experience both feelings and leave it to them to decide which is better.
Monday, August 24, 2009
Nine
Some things for me to beware of:
Thinking I have all the answers. I don't. And thank goodness for that. Can you imagine the responsibility?
Others who claim to have all the answers. They don't either.
Accepting students' power. Students are always trying to give away their power to their instructors. I have plenty of my own power and don't want anyone else's. When I sense a student doing this I go out of my way to give it back. If you're an instructor and don't know what I'm getting at, you should.
Needing recognition for my efforts. Being an independent and no longer affiliated with an organization sometimes has me missing that nth dan designation after my name and looking forward to my next promotion. When I feel this way I realize that I'm just looking for a way to be mean to myself, feel sorry for myself or succumb to the fear du Jour.
Falling into the I'm tough trap. I am capable of hurting people. The skills I have acquired over the years give me the ability to do this. Fortunately those same skills, having tempered my temper, have shown me that tough is a relative thing and that as tough as I may be there will always be someone tougher.
Thinking I have all the answers. I don't. And thank goodness for that. Can you imagine the responsibility?
Others who claim to have all the answers. They don't either.
Accepting students' power. Students are always trying to give away their power to their instructors. I have plenty of my own power and don't want anyone else's. When I sense a student doing this I go out of my way to give it back. If you're an instructor and don't know what I'm getting at, you should.
Needing recognition for my efforts. Being an independent and no longer affiliated with an organization sometimes has me missing that nth dan designation after my name and looking forward to my next promotion. When I feel this way I realize that I'm just looking for a way to be mean to myself, feel sorry for myself or succumb to the fear du Jour.
Falling into the I'm tough trap. I am capable of hurting people. The skills I have acquired over the years give me the ability to do this. Fortunately those same skills, having tempered my temper, have shown me that tough is a relative thing and that as tough as I may be there will always be someone tougher.
Eight
Via the proper application of Aikido principles; from conflict is born something beautiful to watch, from conflict is born reconciliation and mutual understanding, from conflict is born a synergy of opposing viewpoints, from conflict is born resultant harmony. Aikido is the engine of creation that takes the raw material of conflict and transforms it.
If I defeat an opponent he continues as my opponent with the insult of injury added to his beef with me. In the long run this is counter productive. Better I should find a way to convince him that from me there is nothing to fear and his need to act on his fear is unnecessary. Conflict is, at it's root, all about fear and where there is no fear there is no danger.
Aikido is not the art to study if my primary interest is learning physical self-defense techniques that I can use to overcome adversaries. What I do learn from the study of Aikido is that I carry my enemies within me all the time. My enemies are my fears, those feelings that make me dangerous and so someone who engenders fear in others. The offspring of mated fears is conflict.
Aikido training helps me to purge myself of my fear. And if I can become fearless then I will be of no danger to anyone. If I'm not dangerous no one will fear me or what I do and hence will have no reason to enter into conflict with me.
If I defeat an opponent he continues as my opponent with the insult of injury added to his beef with me. In the long run this is counter productive. Better I should find a way to convince him that from me there is nothing to fear and his need to act on his fear is unnecessary. Conflict is, at it's root, all about fear and where there is no fear there is no danger.
Aikido is not the art to study if my primary interest is learning physical self-defense techniques that I can use to overcome adversaries. What I do learn from the study of Aikido is that I carry my enemies within me all the time. My enemies are my fears, those feelings that make me dangerous and so someone who engenders fear in others. The offspring of mated fears is conflict.
Aikido training helps me to purge myself of my fear. And if I can become fearless then I will be of no danger to anyone. If I'm not dangerous no one will fear me or what I do and hence will have no reason to enter into conflict with me.
Seven
I move through space and I am solid, yet when viewed from my one point space is what occupies most of what I am. It's a matter of perspective. Choose a sufficiently small frame of reference and I become as empty as the universe vast distances separating my constituent parts; expand that same frame of reference enough and I become a point source without dimension. Perspective. Frame of reference. Relative. Will the real me please stand up?
Sometimes, when I'm taking a breather, I watch my students move and notice how some of them move freely as though any resistance to their motion is non-existent, while others always seem to be moving through a viscous medium that hinders their progress. Watching, I wonder at the nature of motion. Why isn't it the same for everyone? Is it simply a matter of anatomy? Are some people inherently stiffer than others? I have seen students become supple in their movements as a result of many years of training and it's always amazing to behold. One day I'll be watching someone and I'll say to myself -- hey, she's really flowing through that technique, where'd that come from? -- and then smile.
Friction impedes motion. Aikido training, I have discovered, reduces friction within my body and, consequently, improves my ability to move. When I extend Ki the space within me expands resulting in less friction and freer movement. Relaxation is product of reduced friction within the body. This leads me to the conclusion that practicing Aikido will engender relaxation. The common notion is that one has to relax first if one is to perform technique with Aiki. I believe this is putting the cart before the horse. Continued study of Aikido will, in and of itself, lead the student to the correct state and Aiki will arise naturally.
Sometimes, when I'm taking a breather, I watch my students move and notice how some of them move freely as though any resistance to their motion is non-existent, while others always seem to be moving through a viscous medium that hinders their progress. Watching, I wonder at the nature of motion. Why isn't it the same for everyone? Is it simply a matter of anatomy? Are some people inherently stiffer than others? I have seen students become supple in their movements as a result of many years of training and it's always amazing to behold. One day I'll be watching someone and I'll say to myself -- hey, she's really flowing through that technique, where'd that come from? -- and then smile.
Friction impedes motion. Aikido training, I have discovered, reduces friction within my body and, consequently, improves my ability to move. When I extend Ki the space within me expands resulting in less friction and freer movement. Relaxation is product of reduced friction within the body. This leads me to the conclusion that practicing Aikido will engender relaxation. The common notion is that one has to relax first if one is to perform technique with Aiki. I believe this is putting the cart before the horse. Continued study of Aikido will, in and of itself, lead the student to the correct state and Aiki will arise naturally.
Six
Relativity Theory teaches us that motion is, well, relative and that there is no preferred frame of reference in the universe from which absolute motion can be determined.
Aikido is all about motion. The very heart of the art is revealed in the motion of bodies relative to one another; motion born of conflict (be it staged or real) and resolution. As nage I seek to find a place of calm amid the flurry of movement; a place where my motion is minimized and uke's is maximized. The center about which our centers move is that place. That is where my balance and stability are greatest and where I will expend the least amount of energy to achieve the desired result (conflict resolution). Maruyama Sensei calls this minimum effort for maximum effect.
The linking of nage's and uke's individual centers with the common center to form a unified whole is a manifestation of Ki. The ability to feel, occupy and control the common center (extend Ki), forms the basis of powerful, effective technique. The internalization of the notion that the common center is continuous and ever returning is the goal of my practice.
Aikido is all about motion. The very heart of the art is revealed in the motion of bodies relative to one another; motion born of conflict (be it staged or real) and resolution. As nage I seek to find a place of calm amid the flurry of movement; a place where my motion is minimized and uke's is maximized. The center about which our centers move is that place. That is where my balance and stability are greatest and where I will expend the least amount of energy to achieve the desired result (conflict resolution). Maruyama Sensei calls this minimum effort for maximum effect.
The linking of nage's and uke's individual centers with the common center to form a unified whole is a manifestation of Ki. The ability to feel, occupy and control the common center (extend Ki), forms the basis of powerful, effective technique. The internalization of the notion that the common center is continuous and ever returning is the goal of my practice.
Five
How many of us realize how old we are?
Consider; the universe is composed of a finite amount of stuff. All of this stuff was created at the instant the universe came into being. All that was then still is today long, long eons from the beginning. Reaching back to the beginning of time our bodies are composed of material that was created in the death throes of early stars, sent on its way through the cosmos in cataclysmic super novae and eventually condensed into us. Our bodies, on a very fundamental level, are literally billions of years old.
Aikido has forced me to reevaluate my view of the universe and my relation to it. Indeed, after years of practice I realize that I am not in the universe; rather I am of the universe. The distinction is not trivial. ‘In' implies contained within but somehow separate. ‘Of' implies integrated with and not separate. If I am of something then that something is part of the fiber of my being and all of what it is becomes available for my use. Thus by proper unification of mind and body (of, not in) I am able to ‘extend Ki' and realize strength that would otherwise not be available to me.
Consider; the universe is composed of a finite amount of stuff. All of this stuff was created at the instant the universe came into being. All that was then still is today long, long eons from the beginning. Reaching back to the beginning of time our bodies are composed of material that was created in the death throes of early stars, sent on its way through the cosmos in cataclysmic super novae and eventually condensed into us. Our bodies, on a very fundamental level, are literally billions of years old.
Aikido has forced me to reevaluate my view of the universe and my relation to it. Indeed, after years of practice I realize that I am not in the universe; rather I am of the universe. The distinction is not trivial. ‘In' implies contained within but somehow separate. ‘Of' implies integrated with and not separate. If I am of something then that something is part of the fiber of my being and all of what it is becomes available for my use. Thus by proper unification of mind and body (of, not in) I am able to ‘extend Ki' and realize strength that would otherwise not be available to me.
Four
It is necessary, first of all, to free myself from the constraints of belief. Belief in and of itself is neither good nor bad. Problems arise when I let my beliefs box me into positions that I am compelled to defend though events would lead me to believe otherwise were it not for my stubbornness. My beliefs should form a scaffold from which I can build and not a cage in which I will be bound.
Aikido is one way I have of rendering my universe for others to see. During practice I am painting a picture or creating a living sculpture of how I see my world. If I become constrained by belief my Aikido will have no way of flowing freely. If, on the other hand, my belief is without bonds it will shape the nature of my Aikido and give it meaning.
O-Sensei taught that Aikido should always be practiced in a joyful manner. A constraining belief system will rob me of my joy and affect my practice in a negative way
Aikido is one way I have of rendering my universe for others to see. During practice I am painting a picture or creating a living sculpture of how I see my world. If I become constrained by belief my Aikido will have no way of flowing freely. If, on the other hand, my belief is without bonds it will shape the nature of my Aikido and give it meaning.
O-Sensei taught that Aikido should always be practiced in a joyful manner. A constraining belief system will rob me of my joy and affect my practice in a negative way
Three
"In general, a contraction of reference accompanies an expansion of awareness, and an expansion of reference accompanies a contraction of awareness." The Laws of Form by G. Spencer Brown page 10.
Each of us creates the universe in our own image. No two of us will see, hear, taste, smell or feel (in the tactile sense) exactly alike. We can agree on generalities such as that apple is red or that ice cream tastes like coffee but we won't experience the red or the coffee in exactly the same way. As individuals we experience the universe, each of us, in a completely unique way. The birth of a baby brings a universe into being and the death of a person causes a universe to dissolve into …?
Awareness is largely involuntary. I am, I see, hear, smell, touch and taste. I process the stimuli and produce the world. I remember, and in remembering I create the past. I wonder, and in wondering I create the future. As my past and future roll out behind and before me my point of reference expands, thereby diminishing my awareness of the present.
I tell my students to coordinate mind and body. Easy to say, but what does it mean? I explain as follows: My body is always where it is in space and time. It can't be anywhere but where it is. It is always at ‘now'. My mind isn't fettered in the same way as my body. It isn't tethered to now and can be anywhere anytime. So to coordinate mind and body both must be at now.
With mind and body coordinated I have contracted my reference and thereby expanded my awareness. I have ‘one point'. Aikido training is all about coordination of mind and body; for at one point is where I am able to tap into the energy of the universe and perform to my greatest potential. Maruyama Sensei calls this attaining correct feeling.
There are degrees of one pointedness. Imagine the perfect coordination of mind and body as a dimensionless one point. Less than perfect coordination of mind and body will be equivalent to a one point containing a diameter greater than zero. When we begin our training we come to Aikido with our one point where it is. As we train and gain control over ourselves the dimension of our one point will grow smaller and smaller, closer and closer to perfection.
Each of us creates the universe in our own image. No two of us will see, hear, taste, smell or feel (in the tactile sense) exactly alike. We can agree on generalities such as that apple is red or that ice cream tastes like coffee but we won't experience the red or the coffee in exactly the same way. As individuals we experience the universe, each of us, in a completely unique way. The birth of a baby brings a universe into being and the death of a person causes a universe to dissolve into …?
Awareness is largely involuntary. I am, I see, hear, smell, touch and taste. I process the stimuli and produce the world. I remember, and in remembering I create the past. I wonder, and in wondering I create the future. As my past and future roll out behind and before me my point of reference expands, thereby diminishing my awareness of the present.
I tell my students to coordinate mind and body. Easy to say, but what does it mean? I explain as follows: My body is always where it is in space and time. It can't be anywhere but where it is. It is always at ‘now'. My mind isn't fettered in the same way as my body. It isn't tethered to now and can be anywhere anytime. So to coordinate mind and body both must be at now.
With mind and body coordinated I have contracted my reference and thereby expanded my awareness. I have ‘one point'. Aikido training is all about coordination of mind and body; for at one point is where I am able to tap into the energy of the universe and perform to my greatest potential. Maruyama Sensei calls this attaining correct feeling.
There are degrees of one pointedness. Imagine the perfect coordination of mind and body as a dimensionless one point. Less than perfect coordination of mind and body will be equivalent to a one point containing a diameter greater than zero. When we begin our training we come to Aikido with our one point where it is. As we train and gain control over ourselves the dimension of our one point will grow smaller and smaller, closer and closer to perfection.
Two
In a universe consisting of a single point, motion and stillness cannot be distinguished. Introduce a second point into that universe and motion/stillness are instantly differentiated.
I have noticed that when I am moving with a partner on the mat there comes an instant in the execution of a technique where all motion seems to stop, yet we are not still relative to one another. It is at this point that we become a single entity, our motion in concert such that we seem to be standing still. Our centers meet and merge at the center of conflict which nage has occupied and uke and nage disappear. The center of conflict is the anchor point at which stability and resolution are brought about. The restoration of order from the chaos of the attack results in the dissolution of the conflict and hence the disappearance of the center of conflict. Correctly executed, Aikido resolves conflict without decision, without a ‘winner' and a ‘loser'.
I seek always to occupy the center of conflict as nage. Drawing uke into my sphere, our integration removes the internal reference point that defines our motion relative to one another. The center of conflict becomes simply the center that is ours in mutuality. We are one, if only for the moment, and our conflict ceases to be.
I have noticed that when I am moving with a partner on the mat there comes an instant in the execution of a technique where all motion seems to stop, yet we are not still relative to one another. It is at this point that we become a single entity, our motion in concert such that we seem to be standing still. Our centers meet and merge at the center of conflict which nage has occupied and uke and nage disappear. The center of conflict is the anchor point at which stability and resolution are brought about. The restoration of order from the chaos of the attack results in the dissolution of the conflict and hence the disappearance of the center of conflict. Correctly executed, Aikido resolves conflict without decision, without a ‘winner' and a ‘loser'.
I seek always to occupy the center of conflict as nage. Drawing uke into my sphere, our integration removes the internal reference point that defines our motion relative to one another. The center of conflict becomes simply the center that is ours in mutuality. We are one, if only for the moment, and our conflict ceases to be.
One
I remember Maruyama Sensei would speak of Aikido as a vehicle that would lead the student to enlightenment through dedicated and diligent training.
I have noticed that as we move from the 'center' of Aikido (O-Sensei) the further away we get generationally, the more the idea of competitiveness begins to make its way into the art. The words 'right' and 'wrong', 'real' and 'fake', 'legitimate' and 'contrived' etc. begin to show up in the lexicon of Aikido more and more often. These diametrically opposed ideas form the nucleus of conflict, competition and strife.
O-Sensei wrote "there are many paths to the top of Mt. Fuji..." I take this to be a metaphor for the growth of Aikido as it has spread throughout the world. Dissemination invariably leads to change. How many of us remember the old grammar school experiment where a story was told to the first student in the first row who then passed it on to the person behind and so on until the last person in the last row heard it and was told to repeat the story so all could hear it? The resultant story was never the same as the one originally told by the teacher. Aikido is no different. Each teacher will change the story a little bit. That teacher's students who go on the become teachers themselves will embellish the story further. This is what makes Aikido such a rich and beautiful art. It's like a living, breathing entity that changes all those who encounter it and is then thereby changed by those it touches.
I have noticed that as we move from the 'center' of Aikido (O-Sensei) the further away we get generationally, the more the idea of competitiveness begins to make its way into the art. The words 'right' and 'wrong', 'real' and 'fake', 'legitimate' and 'contrived' etc. begin to show up in the lexicon of Aikido more and more often. These diametrically opposed ideas form the nucleus of conflict, competition and strife.
O-Sensei wrote "there are many paths to the top of Mt. Fuji..." I take this to be a metaphor for the growth of Aikido as it has spread throughout the world. Dissemination invariably leads to change. How many of us remember the old grammar school experiment where a story was told to the first student in the first row who then passed it on to the person behind and so on until the last person in the last row heard it and was told to repeat the story so all could hear it? The resultant story was never the same as the one originally told by the teacher. Aikido is no different. Each teacher will change the story a little bit. That teacher's students who go on the become teachers themselves will embellish the story further. This is what makes Aikido such a rich and beautiful art. It's like a living, breathing entity that changes all those who encounter it and is then thereby changed by those it touches.
Introduction
Aikido is the union of Mind, Body and Spirit.
Past and future approach now without limit. Aikido is now.
Motion is the agent of change. Aikido is the study of motion.
Move on the intent. Aikido coincides with intent.
Conflict is born of fear. Aikido purges fear.
The center of conflict is external to the participants. Aikido is the occupation of the center of conflict.
Winning and losing continue conflict. Aikido is resolution without decision.
Conflict is continuous and ever returning. Aikido is the realization of this.
Opposites create tension. Aikido integrates opposites to form a tension free unified whole.
Past and future approach now without limit. Aikido is now.
Motion is the agent of change. Aikido is the study of motion.
Move on the intent. Aikido coincides with intent.
Conflict is born of fear. Aikido purges fear.
The center of conflict is external to the participants. Aikido is the occupation of the center of conflict.
Winning and losing continue conflict. Aikido is resolution without decision.
Conflict is continuous and ever returning. Aikido is the realization of this.
Opposites create tension. Aikido integrates opposites to form a tension free unified whole.
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