I follow a guy named Mark Lesser. He has written several books from his
perspective as a project manager, Zen Buddhist, and a meditation teacher. He talks a lot about accomplishing more by
doing less.
Here's a recent post from him. It is targeted at business folks, but I think
his words are equally relevant in the context of Aikido -- and, conversely, it
illustrates why I think Aikido is so relevant off the mat, as well. I think these words are especially relevant
during Jiyu-Waza or Randori, when we're under stress, even though we're among
friends and on padded surfaces.
- Onagaishimasu :-)
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It’s not difficult to notice the amount of fear that is
arising during these most unusual and challenging times. Fear can be a useful
ally. It can focus us, keep us safe, even at times keep us alive. Fear of
illness or injury can motivate us to stop smoking, to exercise, and to eat
healthier food. In our communities, it can motivate us to make our air and
water cleaner, our bridges and levees stronger, our workplaces safer.
Fear can also be an enormous hindrance. Fear can color our
world so that a stick can appear as a dangerous snake or an offer of friendship
can be perceived as an imposition or even an attack. We can fear not getting
promoted or losing our jobs; fear what people think about us, or fear that
people aren’t thinking at all about us. We can fear the loss of a loved one,
fear getting older, fear dying. The list of possible fears is almost endless,
so it is not surprising that, sometimes without being aware of it, our actions
and decisions can become ruled by fear. Living with fear can become an accepted
and habitual way of being, leading to thoughts and actions that create more
fear in a difficult-to-stop chain reaction — in ourselves, in relationships, in
businesses and organizations, and in the world.
When we are afraid, our first impulse is to tighten our
bodies and shut down our minds. We become the opposite of receptive and
playful, and this is an enormous hindrance to learning new skills in the
workplace, to collaborating, and to making interpersonal connections. The
impulse to tighten can become so deeply ingrained that we may not even be aware
of the ways that we keep ourselves back, or of the subtle and not-so-subtle
ways that we communicate our fears to others.
Reducing fear (and its physical manifestation, anxiety) and
opening oneself to new possibilities — surprises, even — is the first step, I
believe, toward a more lasting sense of meaning and equanimity. Reducing fear
can be the first action that frees us to achieve a goal (even when, in losing
our fear, our goal becomes something very different than previously imagined).
To reduce fear, however, it’s important to acknowledge and
become aware of our fears. I’ve noticed that this process of increasing
awareness of fear is strangely freeing. This can allow wholly new approaches or
solutions to appear.
Fear is like the “gunk” or rust that clogs our minds and our
bodies, the perfect and beautiful engines we were born with. In our current
world of more-faster-better, it can be difficult to see and feel the pervasive
influences of fear. Transforming fear is not a one-time thing, either; we must
develop ongoing strategies and habits to continually lessen it.
Wouldn’t it be refreshing to take time at the beginning of
each day to simply appreciate being alive — time with no expectations, time with
absolutely nothing to accomplish, time outside of your judgments? Imagine just
appreciating your breath and your body, being open and aware of the
magnificence and mystery of your human existence. Imagine just observing and
being curious about the thoughts, problems, emotions, and complex stories that
make up your “I.” Isn’t this an experience of the opposite of fear?
Some practices that can help us transform fear:
1. Change
the pace: Slow down. Structure a day, or part of a day, where the focus is
on paying attention to yourself and your surroundings when you have nothing to
accomplish. Leave your cell phone behind.
Get a new perspective. If
possible, go on a retreat away from your office space and home space. Be in a
place that is less familiar and where you are less apt to feel the pull of
everyday tasks and usual routines. Quiet and spaciousness are a beautiful
thing.
2. Get
to know your monkey mind: Don’t be surprised or discouraged if you notice
how busy and noisy your mind is when you remove distractions. Use your
meditation and mindfulness practices; come back to your breath and body.
3. Find
your center: Notice that you are more than your stories. In the busyness of
life, you can easily become fooled into believing that the stories you tell
about yourself are you, and that they absolutely define you. As your mind
becomes more quiet, you gain access to your still, undefinable center. You
glimpse the ways you create these stories about yourself, about others, and
about the world.
4. Refresh
and renew: Allow yourself to step (or more accurately, drop) into a place
of not knowing, of uncertainty, of joy and refreshment. See if you can just
appreciate everything you are, even your doubts and discomfort; just appreciate
being alive.
5. Blend
the mundane and the sacred: See and appreciate the immensity and sacredness
of all existence and at the same time see the mundane need to eat, wash the
dishes, sweep the floors, and clean the counters.
6. Let
go of expectations: Just stop. Sit. Let go of the routines and activities
of your life. Don’t expect anything. Be curious. Be open. Let yourself be
surprised. As with meditation, you can’t do a retreat “right” or “wrong.” Don’t
get caught in comparing your experience to anyone else’s. Of course, you will
judge; you will compare. Pay attention to this. “Ah, isn’t this judging and
comparing interesting?”
