One Hundred and Forty-five

O Sensei, as quoted by John Stevens in The Art of Peace:

“The techniques of the Art of Peace are neither fast nor slow, nor are the inside or outside. They transcend space and time.”

Despite the fact that it’s practiced in a group setting, that there’s a strong sense of community associated with a healthy successful dojo, that everyone seems to be more or less on the same road; the journey of Aikido is, at its core, a solitary undertaking. Aikido is a process that has awakened something inside of me and the more I practice and learn the stronger this thing becomes.

The thing, I believe, is an intimate awareness of my connection with the universe. Not a ‘string tied to the wrist’ type of connection; more like a visceral awareness that the connection renders the boundary between me and the rest of It transparent. There is nowhere that I end and the rest of existence takes over. My practice extinguishes dualities and strengthens my union with the Ki of the universe (Aiki) by enabling me to experience the power of the singularity of existence first hand, up close and personal.

One Hundred and Forty-four

My Aikido is most effective when I do the least. The reader is well advised not to misinterpret my use of the word effective. I’m not referring to so called “street effectiveness”; rather I’m pointing to effectiveness of technique within the Aikido paradigm, that is, mat training. My strength on the mat largely comes from my partner who has been so kind as to supply me with the gift of his energy in the form of his motion and intent. Without that gift I should have to impose my will on him in such a way as to get him to do what I want him to do; possible, I’ll admit, as long as I can dominate him physically.

Aikido training, however, has shown me that there is another way. If I welcome my partner and add his energy to my own so that we move in concert rather than conflict, I am able to execute technique seemingly effortlessly. Looks fake, I know, but you have to be on the receiving end in order to appreciate how un-fake it really is.

Students have a rough time with this idea; especially students in their physical prime for whom the future is something distant. For them if uke can’t feel the throw, it can’t have been effective and uke must be taking a dive. Having been there myself I fully understand. It wasn’t until I reached my late forty’s that I began to fully appreciate the raw power of non-confrontation. That realization though slow in dawning marked a lasting turning point in my road.

One Hundred and Forty-three

Fear causes a loss of connection. Loss of connection is the root cause of conflict. Combat happens when conflict cannot be resolved by nonviolent methods. Combat restores connection, albeit in a very harsh and destructive manner.

The Aikido of Ueshiba is a martial way that mitigates the harshness and destructiveness of combat by providing me the opportunity to select the appropriate level of violence to apply in a given situation. No violence at all to absolute lethality and everything in between; as an Aikido practitioner the full spectrum is at my disposal.

How to re-establish connection, to neutralize the fear that separates me from the other, using the least amount of violence, is a core component of my Aikido training. I do this, not by rehearsing ever more varied scenarios, but by allowing my training to have its way in effecting change within me. My training strengthens my body, calms my mind, purifies my spirit and integrates all three allowing me to attain my strongest possible state of being.

One Hundred and Forty-two

Patches of red, maples, to be sure, first to go over; yellow, orange and rust begin to dot the canopy of green that has, since May, blanketed the Berkshire Hills here in western Mass. Autumn is coming and with just a hint of chill in the air my practice begins to subtly change with the season.

Back in the day seasonal changes affected barely more than my wardrobe. I existed not in tune with the seasons, more like beyond their influence altogether; summer, winter, fall, spring; other than differences in temperature and the form of precipitation I moved thru them as though within a Gardol Shield (for those of you old enough to remember the old Colgate Dental Cream commercial from 1956). As I have aged I have become more aware of the seasons; their differences and similarities have been imprinted in my body to such an extent that I have never felt more acutely alive. The quality of light as it changes throughout the day, the transmission of everyday sounds, the seasonally specific aromas of the world, the touch of a breeze… seem to permeate my being in ways that bring me to an intimate knowledge of just how real the oneness of all things really is.

Fall is the twilight season, a season of softness and blurred edges; early high color giving way to the browns and grays of winter. Fall practice for me begins to evidence itself with the emergence of techniques that emphasize soft blending movements; Ki practice, less evident in the heat of the summer months, reappears with greater regularity. My practice reflects the fact that my body is reacting to the overall sleepiness that is sweeping through the environment; an environment that I am finding myself increasingly integrated with. One of the benefits of my Aikido training has been an increase of my awareness of how I fit into the larger pattern of existence. Exactly how this happens; how the mechanics of throwing, taking ukemi and the practice of Ki development have all combined over the years to effect this transformation remains something to be answered sometime in my future. Then again, maybe not. Perhaps the answer lies in remaining in the question.

One Hundred and Forty-one

She's back...

A Parable (continued)

As the Ruler passed into the mist that arose about his bridge the Master of Anywhere turned, and looking at the Road that lay before her with newly awakened understanding, began the long journey back to Anywhere. And so it came to pass, after many days of travel, that she decided to stop for a time in Someplaceelse, a town very much larger than Anywhere nestled in a wide valley between the Northern and Southern Ranges.

One day, while exploring the manufacturing district of Somewhereelse, she happened upon the shop of Wood Worker. Having used many implements of wood in her daily life and taken them pretty much for granted, she decided to see how it was that they came to be manufactured and learn what manner of person would devote his life to learning and mastering the craft of working with wood. Upon entering she was immediately assailed by the odor of freshly cut wood that permeated the shops interior. The smell was rich, wholesome in a way that spoke of living things, an earthy aroma. Work stations were individually lit with warm yellow glow globes rendering the larger space in varying degrees of blended light and shadow.

The Master of Anywhere stood in the doorway letting her eyes adjust to the relative dimness of the shop when Wood Worker ambled over to her, greeting her with warm words and a kind smile, "Good day Madame, how may I be of service?"

"Good day to you Wood Worker. I am the Master of Anywhere and I am traveling the Road towards home having come from answering a Summons to Appear from the Ruler. I have stopped in your fine town and wish to spend some time with you in your shop learning a bit about the Way of Working Wood."

"Your fame precedes you Master of Anywhere." he said, "Not long ago a traveler passed through here, a Martial Artist of no minor repute, who told of a Master of Anywhere, his teacher for many years it seems, who could perform the most amazing feats of martial skill. He related her mastery of internal strength and martial prowess with stories that bordered on the unbelievable. Yet he spoke with such conviction and open honesty that none who heard him could accept them as any less than the absolute truth. And now here in my humble wood shop stands the esteemed master of whom he spoke wanting to learn about the Way of Working Wood. I am honored Master of Anywhere and say thusly that you may come to my shop whenever and for as long as you wish. Perhaps, with time, you will find what you seek. I will be glad to help in any way."

That is how the Master of Anywhere began her stay in Someplaceelse.

Now Wood Worker had in his employ several apprentices of varying degrees of expertise and experience. They each worked on tasks assigned to them by Wood Worker and as time passed and she carefully watched, the Master of Anywhere began to perceive the form of the Way of Working Wood. She saw that the cutting, shaping, fitting and finishing of wood required techniques; and the techniques, once taught, had to be practiced over and over in order to be mastered. Once mastered, the same techniques could be applied to any number of different projects, the finished works of which scarcely resembling each other. Each apprentice, when first learning a technique would endeavor to ape Wood Worker's movements in an effort to duplicate his result. As they became more accustomed to the technique, the Master of Anywhere noticed that they began to vary their movements in ways that were more attuned their individual selves. And so the form each technique, while yielding results seemingly very similar, varied in ways both subtle and beautiful to behold. In this way each apprentice explored the Way of Working Wood on an individual path, different from all the rest, while all were guided by Wood Worker. The Master of Anywhere began to realize that indeed, just as the Ruler had shown her, there were Ways of Training applicable to almost any activity. And practitioners of any Art or Craft will necessarily perform at different levels of acquired skill.

It might surprise some that the Master of Anywhere was so long in coming to this realization. Understand though that in Anywhere there is but one Baker, one Potter, one Smith; indeed, in the little town of Anywhere each House specializes in something that contributes to the well being of all. But in Someplaceelse there were many Bakers, Potters and Smiths. Other Wood Workers there were too and as she visited their shops she saw that there were many paths traveled by the people exploring the Way of Working Wood. Each Master would tailor his or her Way based on a myriad of factors such that the Art of Wood Working contained within it many individual styles of comparative worth. An Apprentice would gravitate to a Master whose style best suited the goals of the Apprentice.

The Master of Anywhere saw that the Training undertaken by one in the Way of Working Wood was, in reality, no different from her own Training in the Way of Martial Arts. And although none whom she met could match her internal strength or martial abilities, she was equally overmatched within their own specializations.

Finally the day arrived for the Master of Anywhere to depart Someplaceelse to continue her journey home. She sat one last time with Wood Worker and said, "Wood Worker, I have learned much at your side. Where once I looked at my Way of Martial Arts as the one and only Way, I now deem that this is not so; there are many Ways in the Wide World. Where once I saw just a Baker or Potter or Smith I now see a skilled artisan the worth of whom cannot be measured in power. Indeed, every Way is accompanied by methods of Training that lead practitioners along different paths and so the Way is thereby enriched by the diversity. When next I meet another Martial Artist I will look upon him with new eyes; eyes attuned to the form of his Way that I may see the worth of it. For this I have you to thank."

A small smile played across the lips of Wood Worker. "Safe home Master of Anywhere." And with that he turned his back upon the Master of Anywhere and slowly ambled away into the dusky gloom of his shop.

One Hundred and Forty

Once again I practice the previous exercise, two partners continuously pulling, pushing, lifting, compressing at various points on my body.

This time, however, instead of remaining in natural stance, I allow myself to move. I find that I am able to move at will in directions of my choosing, regardless of how and where I am being tested by my partners. I move slowly, deliberately opting for directions that sometimes take me directly into the path of the oncoming force; other times moving away; still others moving into stillness.

This form of the exercise really brings the manipulation of forces to life for me. My partners, looking always to help me, provide enough force to bring me right to the point of structural failure and then slightly beyond. This way I am able to slowly increase my ability to absorb and manipulate ever greater amounts of applied force.

It isn't a contest; it's a cooperative effort.

One Hundred and Thirty-nine

Standing in natural stance I feel the hand begin to push on my shoulder. Lightly, at first, then with increasing pressure. As I adapt to the pressure I feel another hand begin to press into my lower back; again lightly at first, the pressure steadily increasing. For a few moments I have hands simultaneously pressing at my shoulder and lower back and then the hand at my shoulder is gone and I feel two hands begin to pull down and back on my shoulders from behind. After a short while of pressure on my shoulders and lower back the hand at my lower back is gone and moves to the side of my head and begins to push…

So it goes, push/leave, pull/leave, lift/leave, compress/leave in succession so that I experience a constantly changing variety of forces applied to various places, sometimes alone, sometimes in tandem, while I maintain natural stance. With practice I'm finding that I can bear quite a bit of pressure without moving.

This and other Ki exercises we regularly practice are designed to find and enhance what we refer to as correct feeling. Correct feeling is central to developing a strong stable center.

One Hundred and Thirty-eight

It was fun to write anyway...

A Parable

Once upon a time there lived an esteemed martial artist in the little town of Anywhere. She was an acknowledged Master, locally famous for her supple strength and structure. In fact, she could handle any amount of pushing or pulling on various parts of her body with amazing, uncanny even, ease. She was able to manifest her intent with the slightest of gestures, sending large strong men flying off balance at a whim. When attacked she would just seem to melt into the attacker, absorbing the energy of the attack until it dissipated or was sent back amplified by her intent, the intensity being such that the attacker was totally overwhelmed. All of this while displaying the softness of a young willow in the breeze.

In addition to being able to perform with accomplished skill, she also possessed the ability to pass her knowledge on to others and, as it turned out, she proved to be as consummate a teacher as she was a performer. Other martial artists of high repute would continually find their ways to Anywhere in order to test her skills. All who met with her and got to experience her skills first hand would come away suitably impressed; proclaiming that here indeed was one in a million, a martial artist whose internal skills were without parallel. Many requested that she take them on as students so that they too could learn to control themselves with the same degree of expertise as she did herself. Reluctantly, after much pleading and cajoling she agreed to teach them her Way.

As the years passed some of her students chose to leave Anywhere in order that they might share their knowledge with others. And so it came to pass that the Ruler heard of the Master of Anywhere and her amazing feats of martial ability. Intrigued, the Ruler caused a Summons to Appear to be drawn up and a messenger was sent to Anywhere in order to deliver it. Alas, the Master was not happy when the messenger delivered the Ruler's Summons to Appear for she had lived nowhere but Anywhere and did not wish to leave her home to undertake the long journey to the land of the Ruler. But Rulers being what they are, rulers that is, are wont to get their way and the Master's Ruler was no exception. And so on a day in spring, bright with the promise of summer just over the horizon, the Master set out to answer the Ruler's Summons to Appear.

Now the Ruler lived in the midst of a plateau surrounded by a chasm both deep and wide. Across the chasm spanned but a single bridge, a toll bridge as it turned out, the booth of which was manned by an Old Codger whose job it was to collect the fare from each person looking to cross. Eventually, the Master arrived at the bridge, many days and many adventures from Anywhere, none too happy, mighty weary and wanting to get the whole Appearance over with. So, as you might imagine, she was slightly put out when the Old Codger informed her that in order for her to cross she must ante up the toll.

"Old Codger", she intoned somewhat prideful, if I'm to be totally honest in this Tell, "stay your request for the toll for I am the Master of Anywhere and I have with me a Summons to Appear signed by the Ruler himself. That should be enough for you to let me pass."

"Ah", said the Old Codger looking her up and down in a most disconcerting and uncouth manner. "A Summons to Appear from the Ruler is indeed a most important document. But see, I also have a document, a document also signed by the Ruler, An Order of Collection it is, which obligates me to collect the toll from those wishing to cross the Ruler's bridge."

The Master, after a moment of thoughtful silence, said, "What then is your fee Old Codger; for I see no sign on your bridge or on the side of your hut yonder indicating the amount or nature of the toll?"

"Master of Anywhere", he replied, "the toll to be paid must be determined by the traveler. I simply collect it. It is different for all."

The Master of Anywhere had collected odd bits of gold, silver and precious gems on her journey, varying amounts of which she offered to the Old Codger in exchange for passage across the bridge. All her offers were summarily refused.

A hint of exasperation crept into her voice as she said, "Old Codger, what is this game you play? I have offered up to all that I have and you continually refuse to let me pass. Do you delay me on purpose? Are you not aware that, should I choose to, I could just walk through you and cross the bridge without paying you anything? I am the Master of Anywhere. I have Trained many years and possess power that dwarfs even the mightiest warrior in the land; yet still you stand before me and refuse to let me pass. Why should I not just brush you aside and be on my way? That, I deem, would be ample recompense for your impudence." Her voice, at the end of her speech, carried a hint of the power she possessed and should have been enough in and of itself to cow all but the stoutest of hearts seeking to oppose her will.

"Good Lady", the Old Codger replied, his tone flat with patience, as though he was dealing with a petulant child, "upon me is laid a Chore, yea, given to me by the Ruler himself, that I must collect his toll before I consent to the passage of anyone across his bridge. ‘Old Codger', he said to me ‘it is upon you that I bestow this Chore for in you I see one whose devotion to duty is steadfast as the Mountain Tall far away in the south of the land. I know that you will not fail.' So yes, Master of Anywhere, you may indeed brush me aside with the ease of the wind blowing through a grove of leafless trees. But know this: after my fall, half way across the bridge you will meet me again and you will think your eyes deceive you for there will be two of me to contend with. Perhaps your internal power, the selfsame power you are so justly proud of will prevail a second time but I say this, when you have gone yet half way again four of me will be there to greet you. And when next you have covered half the distance eight of me will be waiting. It is a very long bridge Master of Anywhere."

"Old Codger, you have no power and I am well neigh irresistible. It would prove to be a conflict worthy of Song; Irresistible Force meets Immovable Object." she said and sighed. "But I am no fool. I have Trained lo these many years to develop my internal power and become a great storehouse of its ways and applicability. Yet now I see that you too have Trained. And while you may not possess internal power as I have come to know it, you do indeed have a strength that transcends time and distance; something, I must admit, I had not heretofore considered. I see now that Training comes in many forms and that all have their worth. Now that I think on it, I can see the Potter, the Baker, the Smith; all people, in fact, who Train, in a new light. You have opened my eyes Old Codger and for that you have my thanks." And with that she bowed low, though no less powerful for it.

The Old Codger bowed in return, "Well met Master of Anywhere. You have paid the toll and satisfied the Summons to Appear. There is no need for you to cross the bridge now for you have taught me well; and for that you have my thanks. May your journey to Anywhere be a safe one and see you arrive happy and content."

With that the Ruler turned his back on the Master of Anywhere and began to slowly cross the bridge.

One Hundred and Thirty-seven

I used to think that my study of Aikido was all about seeking. I have come to understand that it isn't about that at all; my study of Aikido is all about finding. O Sensei, IMO, never intended Aikido to be a ‘one size fits all' art. Consequently, I don't want to emulate him. I can't, not being him, recreate his Aikido in myself. His Aikido was an amalgamation of his life experience; quite unique and surely far different from my own. In a sense, he didn't create Aikido, it grew out of him and all that he was and did.

What I learned from Maruyama Sensei primarily was how to learn about Aikido through discovering myself. I got from him the notion that waza is but one tool, not the finished work. Ki exercises and testing are likewise just tools of discovery. Forms, exercises, practice… my toolkit for delving into my self and my relationship to the rest of creation from which my Aikido grows and is enriched as I grow and learn.

One Hundred and Thirty-six

The canvas accepts the paint
yet the paint itself leaves no mark.
Brush strokes
are rendered and disappear
as soon as they are completed.
The painting can be finished,
and still,
leave no shadow of itself
on the canvas
which is always blank.

On the mat
my mind,
like the canvas,
is undisturbed;
accepting the attack,
which leaves no memory
to note its having happened.

One Hundred and Thirty-five

Mary and I are on opposite ends of the worry spectrum. She tends to smack herself around over things that happened in her past while I save most of my fretting for events that have yet come to pass. Each of us sees that the other worries needlessly. From my point of view she is unnecessarily reliving events long ago consigned to history's round file; so why bother? From her vantage point I am living events in the future that may or may not actually happen; so again, why bother? What we have in common is that each of our proclivities separates us from Now, backward for her forward for me.

Aikido training has helped me immeasureably in honing my ability to remain focused on the present, getting ever closer to experiencing Now directly. While I know that direct experience of Now is impossible since Now has no extension beyond the moment I can approach it without limit. The ability to shrink the extension of my point of reference broadens my awareness of living life in the present.

One Hundred and Thirty-four

The outside roils and churns,
the inside calm and still;
the boundary between
where both are neither
and become one in the same
is Aikido.

One Hundred and Thirty-three

I just realized that 2009 marks the point at which I have been studying Aikido for over half of my life. It doesn't seem all that long ago that I showed up for my first class a week early but 32 years have elapsed since that day.

I was going to write that I can't begin to write what Aikido has meant to me, but then, that's what this blog is all about, duh.

Mary and I have an agreement that we are going to celebrate our 50th anniversary together, which means I have to live into my early 90's, another 32 years. So barring any fatal diseases, natural disasters, other calamities or being stupid enough to run headlong into Dan Harden at full speed  , I may be lucky enough to put in another 30+ years on the mat.

Going to be a helluva journey, but I won't say I can't wait. I'm in no hurry to get there 'cause I'm really enjoying the ride.

One Hundred and Thirty-two

Thought I'd post our Ki Syllabus here for those who are looking for ways to develop their internal strength and correct feeling that go beyond solely practicing waza.

Ki Syllabus -- the purpose of which is to provide the instructor with teaching tools to educate students in how to establish and enhance correct feeling associated with coordination of mind and body.

Benefits of -- which include: development and strengthening of correct feeling while stationary or in motion, body core strengthening, introduction to technique basic movements, increased awareness of moving from the center…

Ki Development Exercises

Solo --
1. Rowing motion
2. Ikkyo one direction
3. Ikkyo two directions
4. Ikkyo four directions
5. Ikkyo eight directions
6. Sai Undo
7. Sai Undo with side step
8. Flap arms side to side
9. Monkey dips
10. Roll backward
11. Roll backward and stand
12. Wrist curls
13. Wrist breaks
14. Tenkan
15. Irimi

Partnered Stationary --
1. Unbendable arm
2. Immovable arm from outside
3. Immovable arm from inside
4. Weight underside
5. Vertical arm lift/pull
6. Collarbone push
7. Lower back push
8. Upper back push
9. Upper chest push
10. Kata tori push hammi
11. Kata tori push natural stance
12. Kata tori push one foot
13. Katate tori push hammi
14. Katate tori push natural stance
15. Katate tori push one foot
16. Ryote tori push hammi
17. Ryote tori push natural stance
18. Ryote tori push one foot
19. Upper arm grab bring along
20. Chin lift
21. Seiza front push
22. Seiza rear push
23. Seiza knee lift
24. Seiza hand lift
25. Seiza head push
26. Ukemi front push
27. Resist roll back and stand
28. Palm to palm stiff arm push hammi
29. Palm to palm stiff arm push natural stance
30. Palm to palm stiff arm push one foot
31. Palms to palms unbendable arm push hammi
32. Palms to palms unbendable arm push natural stance
33. Palms to palms unbendable arm push one foot
34. Suspend nage between 2 chairs (sitting on optional)

Partnered Motion --
1. Katate tori move uke backward
2. Katate tori draw uke in
3. Katate tori enter to uke's side
4. Ryote tori move uke backward
5. Ryote tori draw uke in
6. Ryote tori enter to uke's side
7. Two uke katate ryote tori weight underside sink to the mat
8. Ikkyo exercise through partner's arm (up and down)
9. Lift partner's arm after ikkyo exercise
10. Kata tori tenkan, partner tests after the turn
11. Tenkan ….partner says stop somewhere in the action and then tests immediately for one point
12. Nage does any throw and uke gets up and tests for one point
13. Bring uke along without forcing
14. Weight underside 2 uke nage moving and stopping

Solo Weapons --
1. Multi step random forms with jo staff
2. Multi step random forms with bokken
3. Multi step random forms with two bokken
4. Free movement with jo staff/bokken/2 bokken
5. 1000 strikes
6. Day long bokken/jo staff carry

Partnered Weapons --
1. Lead uke w/ jo staff
2. Partnered jo staff leading
3. Push/pull bokken
4. Lift jo staff
5. Push down on jo staff
6. Push jo staff into nage
7. Pull jo staff away from nage

One Hundred and Thirty-one

Joe McParland sent me an email a while back, part of which appears below:

"In my progression as a nage, I'm hoping to reach mushin, operating effortlessly and spontaneously within the situation. I have no expectation of who will attack, what the attack may be, or how I will respond to a particular attack---it will just happen. The wake-up call is wondering if I can reach no-mindedness by practicing no-mindedness just half of the time, holding intention the other half of the time."

This got me to thinking about the nature of the relationship of attacker and defender. I am so accustomed to recognizing the dualities that permeate Aikido that I have always assumed that uke and nage are two sides of the same coin. But I am seeing that this may not actually be true; that there may be a fundamental difference between the two that necessarily arises because of the need for uke to initiate the attack as a result of his intent. Now his intent may be to hurt or, in the case of mat training, help his opponent, in either case the nature of his intent is irrelevant. What's important is the fact that intent precludes an empty head, so to speak.

The other thing that I began to ponder is the whole concept of trying to reach mushin. For instance, while playing a game of Risk with a couple of buddies, one of the players rolled the die too hard and it careened off the table. Without any volition on my part my hand shot out and plucked the die out of the air and returned it to him, much like Master Po's annoying little habit of plucking flies out of the air in the old Kung Fu series. Afterwards, what struck me was the clarity of that short sequence as it occurred. I have had other incidents like that both on and off the mat. It seems to me that this state of mind, or rather lack of same, arises naturally when the situation calls for it and that my Aikido training endows me with tools that can be spontaneously employed when needed.

One Hundred and Thirty

Spring is finally arriving in the Berkshires. With the warmer weather we are able to open the windows and overhead doors of the dojo during class, letting the world in; kept out as it was throughout the long winter. The dafs and primroses are up and flowering while the rest of the garden plants are in various stages of testing the air; hesitant as though not quite trusting that winter has finally succumbed to the seasonal rite of spring.

The rising temperatures are also reawakening my body. Ukemi is becoming a little easier to take, sweat flows more freely and my oldish joints complain less than they did a month or two ago. Ahh, bring on the heat!

One Hundred and Twenty-nine

The gentle way,
often misinterpreted as lacking strength,
is, in reality,
steel whipcord wrapped in velvet
that must be felt to be appreciated.

One Hundred and Twenty-eight

"Scientific cosmology is offering us a new picture of an awesome universe, but science provides no way of personally connecting to it. New scientific ideas as intellectual entertainment are not going to change our point of view. The scientific picture of the universe and the actual experience of it as reality - like mind and heart - each come fully alive in the connection with the other. Cosmic ideas need to be integrated harmoniously into all we know, and that can open us up to the universe. But how in practice is that done? How can we bring our stunted consciousness into harmony with scientific reality? This is the great challenge of our time…" Joel R. Primack and Nancy Ellen Abrams, The View from the Center of the Universe.

How does the study of Aikido, a martial art, relate to my understanding of the universe and my experience of being of the universe? Aikido, in the larger context, larger that is than merely a collection of techniques used to deal with conflict, has provided me with a vehicle for experiencing the connection referred to in the first sentence in the above quote. I can read the science, observe my surroundings with my senses and measuring instruments, devise theories and provide explanations for natural phenomena, in other words feed my mind. Through study and book learning I can intellectually connect to the universe. But this intellectual connection is inadequate to enhance my experience of being of the universe and thus my connection remains incomplete on a personal level. To experience a personal connection with the universe requires more than an intellectual interaction with the world; it also requires physical interaction between me and my surroundings. Aikido enables me to experience this physical interaction.

Motion is at the heart of Aikido. The dynamics of bodies in motion give rise to all Aikido techniques. Motion is at the heart of the universe. The dynamics of bodies in motion give rise to all events that compose the universe.

On a large scale, the same physical laws governing the motions of planets, stars, galaxies and galactic clusters govern our motion relative to one another when we practice Aikido. What Aikido provides me is a way to internalize those laws and experience them personally. Continuity is the watch word at this scale. Technique mimics the motion of planets and their home star orbiting about a common center. Smooth, effortless and flowing, we move along paths indicated and defined by the continuum which is, in turn, shaped by our presence. And thus my connection with the larger universe is enhanced and brought to life in an intimate way.

Moving in the other direction, away from the large toward the very small, random motion becomes the predominant player in my Aikido. Random motion, especially during randori, causes every encounter with my partner(s) to be slightly different. Randori happens, technique occurs without volition, we move together and techniques grow out of our motion. I can practice the same technique with the same partner ten thousand times and each encounter will be unique and unpredictable. The randomness and uncertainty of each encounter allows me to internalize and personally experience the physical laws governing events on the quantum level of the universe. And thus my connection to the smaller universe is enhanced and brought to life in an intimate way.

Studying Aikido allows me to contract my point of reference thereby increasing my awareness. With expanded awareness I am able to bring my consciousness into harmony with the scientific reality that my mind has absorbed as my book knowledge has grown. The two, the knowledge of learning and the knowledge of experience, complement each other creating a synergy of understanding that echoes deep within me. My continually changing Aikido therefore, is one tool that I employ to integrate my consciousness with ever changing scientific reality.

One Hundred and Twenty-seven

The theme of our spring seminar will be the exploration of correct feeling within the context of Aikido. Correct feeling is the state I experience when my mind and body are coordinated. Correct feeling arises naturally when my mind and body approach unity; when I let go of what was, what may yet be and live in the moment. When I have correct feeling I am in my strongest possible state.

At the seminar we will use a combination of Ki exercises and Aikido techniques to help each other experience and explore correct feeling in our own unique individual ways.

One Hundred and Twenty-six

Body Manifest Physical Waza
Mind Hidden Ki Feeling
Spirit Divine Connection Universe

One Hundred and Twenty-five

I arrive,
and in the arriving
I realize
that having done so is not the end,
but just another beginning.

One Hundred and Twenty-four

Keep one point.
Keep weight underside.
Maintain correct posture.
Coordinate mind and body.
Have positive mind.

I use these, and other, phrases a lot while in class, never however, in a vacuum. The phrases themselves while appearing instructive in nature do not actually transmit any useful information. What is one point and how I keep it? Keep weight underside of what? How do I feel when my posture is correct? What does it mean to coordinate mind and body? Positive mind, does that mean I have to be happy all the time?

The phrases are introduced in conjunction with Ki development exercises and are used to provide hooks upon which to hang feelings engendered when the exercises are performed correctly. The phrase provides me with a point of reference for recalling a set of feelings associated with the performance of a particular exercise. As I grow and get stronger the need for the words to trigger a physical response in me lessens until I can dispense with the association altogether and simply rely on having correct feeling.

Perform, associate, reinforce and do it again… and again… and again… It's the process that matters, not the individual outcome of any particular iteration.

One Hundred and Twenty-three

Quote:

Peter Goldsbury, from Transmission, Inheritance, Emulation 12 wrote: One might ask how Descartes' problems with skepticism and Neo's problems in the Matrix are relevant to aikido. The answer is that they are not, but the underlying assumptions are. One of the crucial issues with aikido is the degree to which one gives credence to various ‘internal' experiences that are not part and parcel of waza. The issue is compounded by lack of a common language that is immediately understood. This is evidenced by the following instructions, quoted earlier (numbered here for ease of reference): 1. Extend ki to your partner into his back at your right hand into his wrist at your left hand. 2. Do nothing. 3. Wait. 4. Focus your intent on having your partner accompany you. 5. Do nothing. 6. Wait. 7. Imagine both of you beginning to move in the direction his extended left hand is pointing. 8. Wait. 9. When you feel your partner begin to move, use only your ki to encourage him to continue. 10. Follow his lead as you lead him in the direction he wants to go. This could cause a major problem if the partner does not do what nage intends. In addition, if the partner does indeed do what nage intends/imagines, there is still no demonstrable causal relationship between the intention/imagination and the subsequent action. We will see from the discussion on Wittgenstein that one of the issues with aikido, especially after Koichi Tohei split with the Aikikai, is that of the legitimacy of focusing on certain internal experiences that cannot be verified, except in terms of the experience in question. I believe that the real crux of Kisshomaru Ueshiba's issue with Koichi Tohei is that the latter gave undue importance to certain concepts, like KI, and divorced them from the context of aikido training. For Kisshomaru, KI could not be separated from aiki and had to be developed in the kind of training which he himself believed that his father did.

As the originator of the 10 instructions paraphrased by Peter above (the original post is number 51 in my blog) I thought I'd add my thoughts to his observations.

Whether or not one gives credence to internal experiences in Aikido has largely to do with the method of training one has experienced. Those of us who were ‘brought up on' the teachings of K. Tohei via Ki Society and later by S. Maruyama via Kokikai Aikido learned early on to identify internal states with metaphors evidenced in the principles and ideas both teachers espoused.

Regarding the instructions numbered 1-10 by Peter, I should note that the exercise when introduced in class by Mary was not presented as a list of instructions. The exercise was demonstrated in silence and only after going thru it with partners did we sit down and discuss our reactions. We then changed partners and went thru the exercise again with new insight gleaned from the discussion. I made a laundry list of instructions in my blog for the purpose of illustrating how the exercise is to be performed for readers.

The exercise is practiced with what we refer to as ‘intent without expectation'. As such, there is no conflict or problem regardless how uke responds. The first line of the blog post 51 states that: "I don't want uke to obey me; I want him to be me." The last line reads: "This exercise requires patience. Leave your expectations ‘at the door' and just let it happen."

That there is ‘no demonstrable causal relationship between the intention/imagination and the subsequent action' is precisely the point. The exercise deals with feeling and the perception of feeling as experienced by two people working in concert without agendas. Following and leading are inseparable; they are the same process and must be performed simultaneously. Only then will the energies of the participants be blended in such a way as to permit the execution of technique without resorting to the notion of overt control of another person. Wittgenstein can, in effect, be ignored since verification of the internal experience independent of the experience itself is neither required nor sought.

Tohei's innovative approach to teaching Ki development as a subject independent of, although in conjunction with waza, seems to me at least to have been a bold step to take. While Kisshomaru may have seen such instruction as divorced from Aikido training, I see Tohei as someone who expanded the idea of what Aikido training is; opening it up to include Ki development as an integral part of training.

One Hundred and Twenty-two

"To truly implement the Art of Peace, you must be able to sport freely in the manifest, hidden and divine realms." - Morihei Ueshiba, The Art of Peace, Translated by John Stevens.

Manifest - The realm of the physical, province of waza, training the body.

Hidden - The realm of Ki, province of feeling, training the mind.

Divine - The realm of connection, province of the Universe, training the spirit.

Aikido training is a process I employ to integrate the three realms in order to realize my full potential as a human being.

One Hundred and Twenty-one

Quote:

Joe McParland wrote: If I say, "apple," is the one you see the same as the one I see, or are they different?

Apple is too complex, let's reduce it to "red". If I say, "red," is the red you see the same as the red I see, or are they different? Now you may argue that "red" is defined by a particular wave length of light and that we can agree that wavelength = x is red. That's all very nice, but it doesn't tell us anything about how we perceive red. I can be shown light of wavelength x + dx where dx represents a change in x and call it red. You meanwhile could be shown light of wavelength x - dx and come to the same conclusion that it is red. Whose red is red?

Clearly, since we agreed at a prior point in time that wavelength x is red neither of us can be right. The wavelength of the light we were shown varied from x by some amount dx. We are forced to admit that our definition of red is, perhaps, to constrained to be of any use when dealing with human perception of color. To enable us to talk about red, as it is perceived by humans, in any meaningful manner we must expand our definition of what is red to include a spectrum of wavelengths.

Aikido is like red. We could attempt to define Aikido simply as the form of "what Ueshiba did" and leave it at that. Therefore if I am doing what Ueshiba did then I am doing Aikido. Simple really. The problem with that is that Ueshiba did what he did over a long period of time and what he did and how he did it varied with respect to when in time he was doing it. So like red, that when discussed perceptively, cannot be pinned down to a single wavelength, Aikido, it seems, cannot be pinned down to a single form.

So today we have many different forms of Aikido. Yet I can walk into an Aikido dojo anywhere in the world and discern that what I am seeing is Aikido without having to resort to anything but my perception of what is being performed on the mat.

The question I ask myself is - Did Ueshiba intend for Aikido to become so varied in form, and if so, why?

One Hundred and Twenty

I can smell the aroma of spring drifting in air still bearing winter's chill; a chill though now without the bite of only a couple of weeks ago. Berkshire winters give up the ghost reluctantly and often there's still snow on the ground when the crocuses and daffodils begin to appear. Not for a while yet, I'm afraid, but still, something has changed, as if winter has finally accepted that it's time to head south for the summer.

Last night in class I felt the familiar awakening of renewed flexibility that I have come to identify as a harbinger of the promise of spring. The gumminess of my joints, jelled by winter's icy grip, is thinning and by May, or June at the latest, my ukemi will, at last, once again not reflect my advancing years.

One Hundred and Nineteen

From the Aikido Is a Practical Martial Arts Thread:

Kevin Leavitt wrote:

If so, is the process really designed to teach folks morals or ethics....

I wrote:

I don't see the process of Aikido study as a delivery vehicle for any moral or ethical lessons. Rather the physical practice of Aikido provides me with a way of looking inward to discover who I am and how I interact with the world around me. This process of discovery has enabled me to witness the emergence and maturation of a moral and ethical base of personal behavior that is substantially different from when I started my study.

My study of Aikido has been decidely inwardly directed, resulting in outward behavior that has been moving toward a more ethical and moral form than would othwerwise have been had I never taken up Aikido.

One Hundred and Eighteen

Much of my training is concerned with attaining what I refer to as "proper fit" with uke. Proper fit occurs when uke and I move in concert, our energies complementing rather than conflicting. To have proper fit with uke I must abandon my agenda, notions of winning and losing, my ego. I must allow myself to be absorbed into the moment. Thought moves me further away from the moment and, as a consequence, hinders my ability to achieve a proper fit with my partner.

Training, therefore, is my process of discovering, experiencing and developing no-mind, a necessary prerequisite for achieving proper fit. Techniques are the tools of training not the finished work, just as brushes are the tools of painting and not the finished canvas.

One Hundred and Seventeen

Body Thing
Mind Process
Spirit Quality

One Hundred and Sixteen

When I began Aikido, I knew nothing and didn't know it. I began to learn and in learning I knew that I knew nothing. As my knowledge grew I found that I had less and less capacity to learn. There came a point at which I chose to forget all that I thought I knew and so began again.

One Hundred and Fifteen

Gently falling snow renders the world with its own unique brushstroke. The falling snowflakes the emphasize the stillness of everything else. The edges of things are blurred by the intervening motes of snowflake, distance becomes less clearly delineated. Sounds are muffled; the ensuing quiet seems to remove much of the hustle and bustle from everyday existence.

The snow seems to say "slow down, calm down; be at peace, at least for a little while…"

Aikido is, for me, like the falling snow. The motion of Aikido practice counterpoints the stillness of the dojo; walls, ceiling and floor stand, hover and support according to their nature while we whirl around, our motion defining the limits of their realm while they define the space in which we move. Aikido, an agent of integration, blurs the distinction of self, the ultimate differentiator, and fosters unity from multiplicity. The quiet single-mindedness of practice brings me closer to the moment and, for a time, the noise of my life is reduced in scope and volume.

Aikido says to me "slow down, calm down; be at peace, at least for a little while…"

One Hundred and Fourteen

Working through
or
working toward.

Via the former,
I experience the latter
and so,
focus on neither
while being immersed,
in both.

One Hundred and Thirteen

A Metaphorical Parable

Hello. I am a being of immense power. I stand outside creation and possess the ability to observe without interfering. Heisenberg and his nasty Uncertainty Principle are confined to creation; I am free of his curse. I am granting you the ability to step out of creation for a while so that we may look upon another of my works together.

Envision a universe consisting of a single switch. The switch has two possible end-states; end-state zero, called off and end-state one, called on. The switch is considered in an end-state when there is no ambiguity regarding whether the switch is on or off.

For the switch either end-state coincides with the moment. In the moment the switch has no motion, no mass, no energy; it simply is. In the moment, the universe that is the switch is static. Between moments the switch will swap end-states. Between moments the switch is not on and the switch is not off. It is between moments that the universe that is the switch is dynamic. The process that the switch undergoes when it oscillates from one end-state to another is called Ki.

I hope you have enjoyed your visit. Now back to our regularly scheduled programming…

One Hundred and Twelve

Where I've been,
my past.
Where I am,
my now.
Where I'm going,
my future.

My conscious self
is never where I am.
Real-time is an illusion
for at now there is no time.

At now
all things are
one thing.

Everything happens between now
and now
and now
and...

One Hundred and Eleven

The moment is irreducible. It has no extension physically or temporally. In the moment the universe has no motion, no mass, no energy; it simply is.

Mary and I have three grandsons. Kai, the oldest, has only lately come to the point where he is able to identify with his own uniqueness as an independently existing individual. He has slipped away from unity with the moment in a way that his younger brother David and cousin Tony have yet to experience. Kai has reached a point where his memories are numerous and rich enough to form an identifiable past from which he is able to conceptualize the idea of a realizable future. He has moved decidedly away from the moment of his life and stepped onto the timeline of his life. David and Tony have yet to complete the same transition as Kai. Their pasts have yet to gel and become consciously recallable and as yet they show no signs that the idea of a future holds any meaning for them. They are still very close to the moment though moving steadily away from it.

My mother will be celebrating her 89th birthday in three weeks. Over the past couple of years dementia has eroded not only her memories but begun to eat into her very notion of self. The timeline of her life has been considerably shortened due to her condition. Her past is a chronologically jumbled collection of images and, as far as I can tell, her notion of future events has become considerable foreshortened. She moves now closer and closer to the moment; opposite the direction being taken by her great grandchildren.

The kids are separating from the moment. In moving away from the moment they are losing some of the intimacy with the universe they previously enjoyed as their consciousnesses become focused more on what has been and yet may be than what is. Life is working on them in ways that are enabling them to stand and function as independent individuals. Each of them is like a little expanding universe within the larger totality; a totality they're becoming less and less intimate with. Mom, on the other hand, due to the shrinking of her past and the erosion of her awareness of the future is moving closer to the moment and, perforce, becoming reintegrated with the universe. The universe is exerting its will and is in the process of enfolding her back into itself.

To practice the Way to Union with Ki is to realize that the barrier that separates me from the universe is actually permeable and that, via dedicated training and study, while I may not know the moment itself, I may approach it without limit and so increase my awareness of my union with the universe that provided me with my existence.

One Hundred and Ten

Aikido was first presented to me as the Way to Union with Ki. With that in mind I'm wondering if a purely physical model of Ki will ever be able to provide a complete picture of that process.

My simplified view, built up over the years, is that I was born into the world fully integrated with the rest of creation and via the process of emergent self awareness and my concurrent socialization as an individual by society, family and friends I was essentially carved out of the whole to assume my role as a distinct person. The emergence of individual forces from a cooling post Big Bang universe is analogous to what I'm attempting to describe. One consequence of my individualization has been the loss of connection with the larger totality of existence that I came into the world with.

O Sensei notes repeatedly (From the Founder's Teachings on AikiWeb):

"…you should let the ki of your thoughts and feelings blend with the Universal."

"The secret of aikido is to make yourself become one with the universe and to go along with its natural movements. One who has attained this secret holds the universe in him/herself and can say, ‘I am the universe.'"

"…I am the universe."

"You should realize what the universe is and what you are yourself. To know yourself is to know the universe."

My take on the sentiments expressed in the above quotes, and others of Ueshiba I have come across over the years, is that the Way to Union with Ki is the road that will take me back to the connection I had with the universe before I became fully self aware. There is a barrier that isolates me, that endows me with individuality while shutting me off from communion with the larger totality that I can see and ponder but not partake of.

All this leads me to believe that Ki is a complex integrative process that I can partially understand in terms physical theory. But to unite with Ki I am required to experience it on a level that transcends intellectual understanding.

One Hundred and Nine

Aikido illuminates my fears and gives them substance. I'm able to face them and learn that instead of overcoming them I can use the energy they supply me with to enrich my experience. When I face my partner my demons are awake, whispering in their nasty little voices of times in my life when choices I made led me astray; riddling me with labyrinthine reasoning as to why failure is inevitable. And I see them for what they are; distractions, attempts to make me abandon mind/body coordination in favor of isolation where fear reigns as I am cut off from the universe.

There is no room for winning and losing in my Aikido. Both are illusions, as transitory as smoke riding the crest of a gale. The idea that defeating my partner will somehow make me stronger is shown to be a lie. For the victory will feed and grow my ego bringing me further from my goal rather than nearer.

One Hundred and Eight

Forty-six is a number. It is composed of a four followed by a six. It is also twenty-three doubled or forty-five plus one, forty-four plus 2 … forty-seven minus one, forty eight minus 2… It turns out that forty-six may be represented by an infinite number of forms other than a four followed by a six. Underlying all forms of forty-six is the idea that forty-six is the numerical representation of a collection of something's that when counted individually total forty-six. So is there a "true" form of forty-six? Are certain forms of forty-six to be considered closer to the idea of forty-six than others?

Aikido is a martial art. Aikido's structure is composed of techniques. The variations in form of Aikido techniques are manifold. Shiho-nage in this style is performed thusly, slightly different in the school over there. Underlying all forms of Aikido technique is the idea that Aikido is a "Way" of discovering and experiencing Aiki. So is there a "true" form of Aikido? Are certain forms of Aikido to be considered closer to the idea of Aikido than others?

One Hundred and Seven

From on high
the old man laughs
at the efforts to constrain his creation,
which even today
moves out from the source
along continually fracturing paths,
diverse and many.

Some intersect some not
by design
they defy containment,
so as to ensure
the continuation of the art
from which they grow and multiply.

From on high
the old man laughs.

One Hundred and Six

The circle is a perfect distinction.
It contains that which lies within,
but also that which lies without.

It's a matter of point of reference.

Aikido happens
where within and without meet
and are no longer distinct.

One Hundred and Five

I said "It's not how I teach Aikido, it's how Aikido affects those who study it."

Joe McParland replied "There may be a semantic loophole here: Does aikido manifest clearly within the student regardless of the instructor; or, will you say that if the student is not affected as you might expect, then the teacher was not teaching aikido?"

Ueshiba said "All the principles of heaven and earth are living inside you" - The Art of Peace translated by John Stevens.

I take this to mean that Aikido exists in everyone and that the study of Aikido is, ultimately, the study of one's self. As an instructor I don't teach Aikido as teaching is commonly thought of. I get out on the mat and do things that folks call Aikido technique and students then try to emulate what I show. That's teaching in a sense, but it isn't teaching Aikido.



I teach Aikido by continuing to learn Aikido. I share my process of learning Aikido with my students. I tell my story and open myself up to them so that they may observe my journey and learn to discover Aikido for themselves. As such, I have no expectations regarding how their Aikido manifests itself.

One Hundred and Four

Aikido isn't, in and of itself, spiritual. I cultivate spirituality in my own life by seeking to integrate myself with the larger totality of existence such that I become more than I am, as defined by my "self". Aikido is my chosen vehicle for directly experiencing unification with the universe on a deeply visceral level.

I don't believe spirituality is something that can be taught, as in; do this, that and the other thing and you will become a more spiritual person. Spirituality, like Aikido, grows from within. A spiritual path can be pointed to but it's up to the individual to walk it and learn from the experience.

One Hundred and Three

Aikido is a way for me to view the world thru different eyes. It allows me see from a vantage point of integration as opposed to the differentiated view I have of the world when I lose one point and the larger "me" is subsumed by the unitary "me".

When practicing with a partner I am able to experience him/her without the clutter of words that often serve to obfuscate who we really are. When practicing we lay ourselves open to inspection in ways both transparent and honest. Our motion and our interaction are like a chess game where the pieces are always on the board and nothing of the moment is hidden.

One Hundred and Two

There is no light quite like October light. It has a quality that rounds off corners and smoothes ragged edges in a ways that soften the world, blending seemingly discordant shapes into a seamless whole. October light eases the passing from summer to winter and stores the promise of spring as a remembrance of the endless cycle of the passing of the seasons.

Aikido has much in common with October light. Aikido softens the edges of uke's and nage's relative motion. It bends linear movement into graceful arcs that lead the eye rather than shock it. Via Aikido, discordance gives rise to harmony as isolation yields to integration and the participants move from plurality to singularity.

It's November now, the beginning of the brown months. October's light has gone to sleep for another year; but like the legendary Phoenix, it'll be back, rising from the ashes of a spent summer. Until then, I have my Aikido to carry me along and remind me of the splendor of its illumination.

One Hundred and One

High summer is the best time to practice. The dojo is hot, fans move the air, but hot moving air is still… well, hot. The heat loosens my body, eases the winter ache in my joints and energizes my desire to practice. It's as though the warmth expands my body reducing the friction that winter's contracting cold brings on.

Already the air here whispers of the New England winter waiting just over the horizon. Ice on the windows of the cars in the morning, gardens gone to yellowed leaves, trees moving swiftly from fall colors to leafless brown all speak of the approach of another long winter season. Even with the heating unit, the dojo is chilly in the winter; usually getting comfortably warm right about the time class is about to end.

In summer my practice turns outward; winter inward. Winter is a time of reflection, a time to assess, to plan, to accumulate. A little less ukemi than when the air is hot and moist, to be sure; but less is not none and at my age any at all is to be thankful for.

One Hundred

Aikido is an emergent phenomenon. The mechanics of Aikido technique may be taught. The ideas underpinning Aikido may be taught. Aikido's transformative qualities, however, are not taught, they're experienced. And they're experienced uniquely by each student in his/her own way, in his/her own time.

As an instructor I have a twofold responsibility. The first is to teach what may be taught; to try to raise the awareness of my students to the point where they may cease being taught and begin to learn for themselves. The second is to provide my students a venue in which their Aikido may grow and emerge; a venue in which transformation is encouraged.

My biggest obstacle in this endeavor is my ego. For in teaching what may be taught there is a danger that I may to want to imprint my image of myself upon my students, to make their Aikido "look" like mine. I must realize that the form of my Aikido is merely the surface of my Aikido and that if this is true for me then it is also true for my students. Knowing this allows me to celebrate the growth of my students rather than fear it.

Ninety-nine

Hi Joe - Ueshiba's quote in my previous post says it better than I can. I have seen it in myself and others who have trained with me over the years; a gradual moving away from violence (read the word violence in the larger context, encompassing more than just physical assault) as an acceptable option for the resolution of everyday conflicts. Don't misunderstand though, while violence in kind isn't acceptable it does remain on the table if the situation warrants. As a last resort violence is sometimes necessary. It's unfortunate that in today's world many people view violence as the only option to any conflict whether real or merely perceived.

I believe that Ueshiba, as he grew into his creation, saw that the transformative power of Aikido was far more important than its martial applicability. That's why I don't agree with the assertion that Aikido, as it's mostly practiced today, is nothing more than watered down DR. Perhaps in a martial sense it is but Aikido training has led me down a path that opens to vistas that lay beyond the martial application of technique.

I hope this clarifies my statement somewhat. Thanks for reading.

Ninety-eight

"Practice the Art of Peace sincerely, and evil thoughts and deeds will naturally disappear." - Morihei Ueshiba, The Art of Peace, Translated by John Stevens.

The spread of Aikido will make the world a more peaceful place… one person at a time.

The idea that Aikido will somehow cause masses of people to behave in a more peaceful manner is a misunderstanding of how Aikido practice engenders an aversion to violence among practitioners. I'm not entirely sure how practicing Aikido has managed to foster peace in my own life; I only know that it has. Over the years I have seen Aikido work its way into peoples' lives and change them in fundamental ways. Not everyone mind you but some, more in fact than not.

So now, here in Great Barrington, there exists a small knot of people who practice a peaceful way of living as a result of Aikido study. I'm sure our little corner of the world is not the only place where this has happened. There must be other groups of people who share our passion for Aikido and find themselves living a more peaceful existence. It certainly won't happen overnight, but over a long period of time as more people become exposed to Aikido the numbers will grow. And perhaps, just perhaps, generations from now the world will be a more pleasant place to live… unlikely? … maybe, but one can hope.

Ninety-seven

Finding the proper "fit" with my partner is an important factor in the proper execution of Aikido technique. When I have the proper fit the technique seems effortless. Instead of having to overcome and control uke I simply move with him and add my own energy to his to effect the throw. The following video illustrates the concept.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Z-YmpK9afac

Ninety-six

There are an infinite number of directions I can move in response to an attack. If I am intersected by the attack it is because I have chosen to move in a direction that will, at some point in the near future, be coincident with the direction uke has chosen for his attack. Our world lines will cross, we will meet and Aikido will happen.

Uke and I, of course, are not automatons and our choices will reflect the continuity of our existence, being constantly modified to fit the situation. Aikido teaches me that choices I make in response to an attack need not arise from conscious thinking. Nevertheless, my response to an attack is still the result of a choice being made even though I am unaware of the process behind the choice.

If, as it seems, my response is the result of my making a choice, what then is my responsibility relative to the outcome of the encounter?

Ninety-five

As I watch autumn colors begin to appear on the trees and creep up the sides of the mountains, I'm reminded of the first time I visited Maruyama sensei at the Arch Street dojo in Philadelphia.

Thirty-one years ago as a white belt, I traveled to Philadelphia to attend two classes taught by Sensei. For me, as someone who has a hard time interacting with groups of both people I know and strangers, this was a terrifying experience. Arriving early, I climbed the 4,500 steps to the second floor of the Arch Street dojo and entered.

Sensei was the only one there, vacuuming the mat! Needless to say, at least to those of you acquainted with Sensei, it wasn't long before I found myself pushing the vacuum around the mat. It wasn't until much later that I recognized the gift that Sensei had given me that night. Allowing me to vacuum the mat gave me time to acclimate myself to the mat and the space. It kept me moving and doing something so that when students began to arrive for class I was far more relaxed than I otherwise would have been.

I am always mindful of that incident whenever new students come into our dojo. And while I don't have them vacuum the mat by way of introduction, I do try to make them feel totally welcome and put them at ease. New students are, after all, the life blood of any dojo.

Ninety-four

Correct feeling is achieved when my mind and body are coordinated. Correct feeling defines my strongest possible state wherein I am able to realize my full potential as a human being. Correct feeling is a broader based idea of power than simple strength. It is the power to be and act according to principles that I choose to live by regardless of whatever external forces are acting to impede me.

What then, you may wonder, is coordination of mind and body? Simply stated mind and body are coordinated when they are in the same place at the same time doing the same thing. My body is always exactly where it is and always exists at now. My mind, however, due to its ethereal nature is not limited to any particular place or time. It can be anywhere, anywhen. In fact due to the time lag inherent in the processing of sensory stimuli, my mind, unlike my body, is forever shut off from now. My mind can approach now without limit, but never quite get there. This leads me to conclude that perfect mind/body coordination is not possible. My body can never move off now, my mind can never quite reach now.

Mind/body coordination is not something I either have or do not have. If my mind and body were totally disconnected then there would be no me to speak of. The degrees of mind/body coordination form a continuum that is limited by total disconnect on one end and perfect unity on the other.

Aikido study is my way of bringing mind/body as close to unity as possible.

Ninety-three

For those of you who've never heard of Flag Rock, it's located in Housatonic, Massachusetts on the northwest side of Monument Mountain. The views from the rock are spectacular; south along Route 7 to the Sheffield Flats bordered by the Taconic Range, west the Catskill Mountains where the setting sun provides an endlessly changing picture show as day wanes giving way to a night sky full of stars, directly below the village of Housatonic. My friend Steve and I have spent many nights camping there.

There are two trails leading to the top of Flag Rock. One trail is short and steep the other long and of gradual incline. Both trails lead one to the same place but provide distinctly different experiences getting there. The short trail is quite steep for pretty much the whole way up the side of the mountain. Carrying a pack up that trail is a … focusing experience to say the least; the focus, at my age, being surviving the walk. There isn't much opportunity to admire the surroundings; my vision is narrowly concentrated on where my next step is going to be, awareness turned decidedly inward. The long trail is just the opposite. Gradual incline, plenty of opportunity to check out the woods and local scenery; my awareness turns outward to my environment.

Aikido, like Flag Rock provides me with multiple paths that I can travel. Each path provides me a different experience and allows me to concentrate my awareness according to the dictates of the situation. The paths of Aikido intersect, allowing me ample opportunity to change the focus of my study throughout the course of my life. There is no one "correct" path to the exclusion of all others; just choices that I can make along the way.

Ninety-two

There are many ways of training annd testing weight underside. Here's a video clip demonstrating one of them.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CIMrlue4SUk

Ninety-one

Staying rooted while standing and being stressed is all well and good but Aikido requires that I be able to be rooted while I'm in motion. Curiously, I'm not the one who's aware of my rootedness, it's my partner who feels it when we are moving together. I've noticed this myself, especially when I uked for Maruyama sensei; and now when I am uke for several of my longtime students. My students tend to acquire this feeling around the 15 - 20 year mark. Suddenly as ukes they will become very heavy; when they take the role of nage I'll feel their connection with the larger reality as I attack. During Ki exercises I'll be able to push and pull them with much greater force than before.

When I get thrown by someone who is rooted in motion their connection with the universe is palpable. I feel it in my bones as though I'm falling into a very solid hole that is at once empty and heavy as all get out. And I don't just give myself over to the throw, all light and airy. Since I'm a lot older now than when I began this journey I have to take care of myself in order to be able to fall and stay healthy. Consequently all my attacks come in a committed but controlled manner with much centeredness and weight underside. My balance, if not taken by nage, will tend to reinforce my feeling of heaviness and I'll be very difficult to throw.

Ninety

I practice to extend ki before the attack is realized. When done correctly it puts uke off balance just prior to the engagement. Here's a short clip to illustrate the point.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=WYxtF31Do2k

Eighty-nine

Excitement is in the air! The word is spreading… the old Aikido is dying, from the ashes of which will emerge a new Aikido, rising like the Phoenix reborn, wreathed in the power of aiki. Aikidoka from far and wide will flock to the new art, for once tasted, the power of the new Aikido will seduce them with the promise to fulfill that which has, these many years, been missing from their training.

Maybe so, maybe so indeed. It's possible that right here, in this small corner of the Aikido universe, a new movement is being born, will take root and spread throughout Aikido like fire thru a field of dry wheat. In a mere generation we could see Aikido overhauled and remade; new, improved, made relevant in a modern world where the quaint concepts of the old Aikido have withered in their usefulness and application.

It will be interesting to watch the unfolding of this future's history. Will the movement succeed? Will practitioners of the new art take Aikido from an art of reconciliation to one of confrontation? Will they use their new found power as a tool of understanding or dogma? Will this change be revolutionary or evolutionary?

Time will, as time does, tell. Till then I'll just keep showing up and training.

Eighty-eight

Here's a short video clip of a simple Ki exercise we do that involves pushing. A lot of people think this kind of training has disappeared from modern Aikido practice. Not true.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6pPQqXtKwKE

Eighty-seven

Throwing is falling in reverse,
the other side
that conforms to the will and intent
of the us that is unity and no longer we
of what once was.

Falling is the other side of the throw,
no less for its having the stigma of losing
in the eyes of those who know not
of the connection shared
by the us that is unity and no longer we
of what once was.

Aikido is the unity,
minds/bodies/spirits
become
mind/body/spirit
and no longer we
of what once was.

Eighty-six

Aikido as a Way is a journey of many possible paths. It is rich in possibilities beyond my imagining. I can, I realize, explore only a small portion of its extent in my short lifetime. With so little time to travel the Way I have no time to wonder at or argue about the rightness or wrongness of anyone else's chosen path. I let them be.

From time to time over the years people have joined me and we have traveled together for a while. I have learned from them all, in ways obvious or unlooked for but always appreciated. Hopefully they have taken some of what I have had to give, little though that may have been, and benefitted thereby as I have benefitted from them.

My Aikido is unique to me and my sharing of it is merely a portion of my story being revealed at the moment of its doing. Those with me at any given time get a glimpse, keep or discard it, and go on in the telling of their own tales.

Coming together, we call the interaction a class.

Eighty-five

I have my partner stand in natural stance. Standing in front of him and placing my right hand on his left shoulder I begin to push. I want him to absorb my push and transfer the energy into the ground thru his feet. As he gains confidence and is able to identify with the correct feeling more readily I can increase the amount of force I apply to his shoulder until I am pushing quite hard. At first I am careful to push towards his spine and slightly downward. Later I can vary the direction of the push while he responds dynamically to the changing force vectors.

I have described this exercise before, or variants of it anyway. The exercise is intended to point out the difference between absorption /resistance and to help my partner strengthen his center via increased loading. Nothing new here.

I can, however, change things up slightly and turn this exercise around so that I am the one being "tested" as follows. All is as before except that when I place my hand on my partners shoulder I do so very lightly with my elbow bent quite a bit. I'd like my upper arm and forearm to form an acute angle. Now when I push I do so not using my arm and hand, instead I use my center, pushing directly at his center, applying as little force as possible. At first my partner feels nothing; I wait and continue my "mental" push. My intention is to occupy his space (not literally, think metaphor). If I do this correctly, at some point his structure will break and he will move off his mark.

I suppose this is as close to competing as we get in our practice; for if I give him the slightest bit of physical energy he can absorb it, redirect it and maintain his ground.

Eighty-four

"You're not doing my Aikido".

Interesting sentence. In and of itself it says nothing since it can be read and interpreted in two completely different ways. First: "You're not doing my Aikido."; meaning the Aikido you are doing isn't the Aikido I'm doing and since I'm the big hoo-ha the Aikido you're doing is wrong and therefore is not Aikido. Second: "You're not doing my Aikido."; meaning you should not be attempting to just copy me and do my Aikido. Find Aikido within yourself and do your own Aikido.

Same sentence two very different implications. The point is without the surrounding support structure of the total situation within which the statement occurred; we have no way of knowing what the speaker actually meant. In addition, even if present at the time of its utterance, there's no guarantee that you or I would hear it the same way.



But why even worry about it? Easier to just show up and train; more fun too.

Eighty-three

If I am in tune with my surroundings resistance disappears and my sense of "otherness" is replaced by feelings of inclusion. When I am centered, Ki unblocked and flowing, things seem to "go my way"; life is good and I feel light and flexible. Those times when I am out of sync and my Ki stagnates are punctuated with seemingly insurmountable difficulties that plague everything I am trying to do, life seems not so good and I feel heavy and stiff. Maruyama Sensei would often show two ways of doing something and then ask suggest "you decide which is better." How I face all situations in life is my choice. I can choose the path of light and wisdom or the path of darkness and ignorance.

Aikido is my way of training myself to be in harmony with my environment no matter what the circumstances may be at any given moment. This is a more important goal for me than the ability to overcome an opponent or the acquisition of power.

Eighty-two

At first I saw Ki tests as merely measures of my progress in mind/body coordination. Later I began to realize that continued practice of Ki tests fostered a strengthening of my center as well. It's like weightlifting, various exercises using progressively heavier weights builds strength as muscle fibers are first ground down and then rebuilt in greater density. Ki exercises using progressively stronger testing force builds mind/body coordination via a similar tear down/rebuild process. In the case of Ki however, it isn't muscle fiber being torn down and rebuilt, it's my ego.

Eighty-one

Katate ryote tori, an uke on each arm. They grab hard, no pulling or pushing, just remaining immobile. My objective is to extricate myself from their grasps; while moving as slowly as possible. Technique is optional. Breaking the grip is enough.

This exercise is a really good focusing tool. I have to focus on my center and focus my intent in order to find the paths of least resistance down which I may move.

I wait. While just standing there feeling the energy being expended by my partners I can gather it into my center, let it build, adding to my own power. Power can be released explosively, but this exercise calls for a deliberate slow release of the stored up energy. Watching it happen from the outside is kind of like watching paint dry, but feeling the collapse of first one partner's structure followed by the others is quite extraordinary.

Eighty

"The Art of Peace is not easy. It is a fight to the finish, the slaying of evil desires and all falsehood within". - Morihei Ueshiba, The Art of Peace, Translated by John Stevens.

The practice of Aikido isn't always comfortable for me. Introspection is a large part of what Aikido practice forces me to do and I've had to learn to overcome my natural reticence to delve too deeply into my own innards, so to speak. Training strips away layers of falsehood that have been built up as a child and continue to be added as life progresses. So it isn't about "getting there" in any formal sense, it's more a process that continues as long as I live.

Part of what Mary and I do in classes we teach is find ways to make students confront their inner selves in ways that make everyone, us included, uncomfortable. Once at a seminar we were teaching Mary had everyone pair up and take turns whining at each other. The result was quite illuminating. The majority of the students there jumped into the exercise with gusto and while no one was comfortable with it everyone later agreed that they learned something about themselves for having done it. Two folks were so put off by the exercise that they left the mat until it was completed. Hearing them whine at each other as they walked off struck me as somewhat ironic since that was the object of the exercise in the first place. The point of the exercise was for students to excise a natural reaction (whining about an adverse situation), bring it out into the open where it can be seen and so remove from it its power to immobilize.

Discomfiture provides me with a counterpoint to the comforts in my life, without which I would surely less appreciate all that I have been blessed with.

Seventy-nine

Push or extend, resist or absorb. Which is better? What works for me? I push uke and he pushes back, I extend thru uke and he falls. I resist uke and he exerts more force, I absorb his force, redirect it and he falls.

Many years ago one of my buddies, a wrestler of high repute on our high school team decided it would be cool to attack me from behind and bring me to the ground. There was no intent to harm on his part, just the normal horsing around engaged in by sixteen year olds in those days. Outweighed by an easy thirty pounds I had no chance of powering my way out of the situation so I just accepted his force, bent from the waist, let him pass over my back and led him to the pavement. I supported his head as he landed, no harm done. Onlookers suitably impressed, I tried to look nonplussed as though what I had just done was the most natural thing in the world. Truth be told, I was just as surprised as my friend laying there on the ground. The whole thing happened without any thought on my part. This incident came to mind not long ago when I felt myself being challenged by one of my students during practice. I look upon those tests as a chance to relax more and exercise my ability to absorb the force being applied, or extend thru it.

Push or extend, resist or absorb. It's always a choice. Training is a way to strip away my ego and make my choices based on the needs of the moment.

Seventy-eight

The following story is true. It happened when I was eight or nine years old, can't remember exactly. Bobby and I (seems like in those days almost every first name ended in a "y" or "ie") were walking thru the woods, where the high school we graduated from years later now stands, when we came upon a man who promptly performed an act upon himself that doesn't require further elaboration here. We weren't so much scared as taken aback by the suddenness of the encounter. What scared us silly was the Bowie knife that appeared in his hand when he finished and him saying something to the effect "Ok, now it's your turn".

Bobby and I looked at each other and something extraordinary happened. I could hear him counting in my head and was sure that he could hear me too. I knew at the count of three we were gone and sure enough when I hit three in my head we both took off down the trail. I don't know if the man attempted to follow us or not, I never looked back because I wasn't just me anymore. The connection Bobby and I shared in those moments was so complete that we each seemed to be running on four legs. Needless to say we didn't stop until we were safely back on the streets of our neighborhood. When things returned to normal, we sort of just went back to being kids again and we never talked about the incident. Bobby died of an OD a year after graduating high school so I'll never know if he actually shared the same connection I felt with him on that day.

In class I often speak to my students of the importance of forming a connection with uke when practicing. Ki exercises, technique, randori, weapons work -- it doesn't matter. When I am able to lose myself in the moment, be in the question as Mary would say, I am able to connect with my partner in a way that comes close to what I felt that day in the woods so many years ago. That connection is Aikido. Taking that ability to connect out of the dojo and applying it to encounters in daily life is mastery of Aikido. Hmmm, still a long way to travel, can I get any luckier?

Seventy-seven

I trod my path and the journey is long, no end in sight. Not that it matters for the journey is, and not the end which brings to a close that which is worth traveling. And enjoying it so much why would I want to hurry it along? Is it the promise of attainment; the acquisition of mastery? Or perhaps power only just dreamed of, quickly gained at the expense of… what, if anything? If I could cut it short, gain in a year what otherwise would take most of a lifetime, would I want to; would I be crazy not to? What of my students? Do I short change them because I realize the value of the road long traveled?

I think not. My students are free to seek their ends wherever they desire. They aren't bound to me or forced to stay with me on my road. There are alternatives available to them. Many of them, over the years, have availed themselves of those alternatives. Some have returned, some not. It's the way of the world.

Besides, I see myself more storyteller than teacher. My Aikido is my story, my practice the telling. I'm continually amazed when I see people still interested in the tale, still showing up after 10, 15, 20 years and more. I realize that the story is no longer my own, but ours. Together we weave a tapestry that contains a part of all our lives. And of what importance is mere power in light of such shared experience?

Seventy-six

"The techniques of the Way of Peace change constantly;…The Art of Peace has no form - it is the study of the spirit." - Morihei Ueshiba, The Art of Peace, Translated by John Stevens.

Regarding techniques; I learn them, I practice them, I perfect them. I use them to condition my body, to train my mind, to purify my spirit. Technique forms the core of my practice, yet my ultimate aim is to free myself from the constraints imposed by the very technique I practice day in and day out. My personal challenge is to transcend technique, to break through into a realm where responses to situations arise from the situations themselves and are not imposed by me or my partner.

Seventy-five

When I paint I start with a blank canvas, usually white, sometimes black or gray. Using a variety of brushes and techniques I apply color to the canvas and as I progress a scene gradually appears. The clarity of the scene is dependent upon the distance from which the painting is viewed. The optimum distance for viewing a painting will vary with each observer; but generally, too far away and the scene will fade to obscurity, while if too close the scene becomes just a collection of blobs and streaks of colors.

Uke and I are a blank canvas upon which we will render our Aikido. Practicing randori we employ a variety of attacks and defensive techniques, and as we progress the breadth of our Aikido gradually appears. Viewing Aikido being performed is akin to viewing a painting. An observer too far away sees an obscure blur of motion, too close and the synergy of uke and nage is lost as the frame of reference of the observer becomes too narrow.

Seventy-four

So what is blending anyway? Simply put, blending is congruent motion. Initially, when uke attacks and I move to blend with his motion, I seek to align our paths such that there is no point at which the arcs of our movement intersect. In so doing, if my timing is accurate, I will leave behind a void in which he will find no support for his structure. He will, of course, try to correct his balance and I will follow his lead, still parallel with him, slightly ahead of him, adding to his energy. In this way I will choose where and when we do finally intersect. The point of intersection is where our paths will diverge and the technique will happen. Blending makes it all possible.

Seventy-three

"All the principles of heaven and earth are living inside of you." - Morihei Ueshiba, The Art of Peace, Translated by John Stevens.

The Ki of heaven, the Ki of earth; the knowledge of where I'm from and where I'm going; the principles and techniques of Aikido; all right here inside of me, growing and blooming as I continue my practice.

I was very fortunate to have had a teacher who understood that Aikido is a process that is learned from inside; that as a student, I needed to discover Aikido myself and that his job was to guide my process of self discovery and not spoon feed me the answers. I owe Sensei Maruyama a debt of gratitude, the repayment of which I hope is continually being fulfilled as I carry his teaching methodology forward with my students.

Seventy-two

Lead and follow, follow and lead…

I offer my partner one end of the jo and he moves to take it. Following his lead, I lead him along the path he has chosen keeping the jo just out of his reach. I never try to force a direction on him; it's enough to simply let him decide where he wants to go as he tries to grab the end of the staff. Changing directions in response to him I may move my hands to the other end of the jo and offer him the end I have just relinquished. On we go, continuously shaping the pattern into randomly varying simple and complex weaves, forming a threefold tableau of interconnected energies. If he does manage to grab the jo he just lets go and we continue as before.