Back in July 2019, I wrote about how the techniques we practice in Aikido can be thought of as ways to practice the basic "principles" of Aikido. Sounds so obvious when I say it that way. But it's not so apparent when you're actually doing it.
Especially as a beginner, the basic mechanics and choreography of the movements can be so unfamiliar and overwhelming that the real magic of Aikido remains completely inaccessible for years. I imagine it's a little like playing scales on the guitar for years and years. Eventually, some day, they just become a part of us, until one day we can see what's behind them. The scales seems to drop away and the music can come out more naturally. I think O'Sensei referred to this as "no technique." I think Bruce Lee spoke of a version of this as well.
Anyway, in yesterday's class, it occurred to me that different people probably prefer certain principles over others. This might be due to their previous training, or their temperament, or their body type. Sometime prefer flowing techniques with a lot of motion. Some lean towards smaller, more direct movements.
Preferred movements can change with each different Uke, as well -- or different attacks from the same Uke. Sometimes entering (Irimi) is more natural; sometimes turning (Tenkan); usually a combination of both. But I'm getting distracted.
The real "ah ha" moment yesterday was that the basic principles of Aikido and our preferences for them probably pervade our lives in a broader, more general sense, as well. This came to me when training with someone in class who tends to be very intense in everything he does. He seems to always go deep. "Go big, or go home" seems to be his mantra. The overriding principle he lives with is Irimi -- to enter.
Me? I probably tend to more of a Tenkan kind of guy. I could probably do with a little more Irimi.
Covid pretty much put the kibosh on my own training for a year or so. Others at our dojo continued to train diligently -- in a touchless, safe-distance, sort of way that I simply couldn't get motivated for. I have great respect for those who did.
After my hiatus, it's been hard to make getting on the mat a regular habit again. Other things have usurped those time slots. It's a good problem to have -- so many wonderful choices to make.
Finally, recently, even as I was just getting back to it again, I injured myself in the weight room. In a wonderful moment of mindlessness and situational UNawareness, I dropped a 45-lb barbell plate on my big toe, crushing the tip. Yes, ouch.
I debated posting pictures. But the X-ray really doesn't do it justice, and the full-color image is just plain nasty.
I'm only now back to normal again. Sort of. The toe may never shrink completely back to its original size, and may never lose the partially blackened toenail. I tried wearing little training booties my first session back but they didn't stay on. I'm now thinking I'll just resort to painting all my toenails black, thus not subjecting my fellow Aikidoka to the ugliness of my lingering injury. My other toenails weren't all that pretty to begin with.
In any case, I'm back on the mat. Before the injury, I had already begun thinking about how it's perhaps time to start training in earnest for Nidan. I feel I need a goal. On the one hand, I'll never really feel ready. But on the other hand, objectively speaking, it seems time.
Independently and unsolicited, my Sensei recently reached out to me and confirmed my own instinct. Well, there it is.
So. As far as I'm concerned, my Nidan training has officially begun. Sensei said I should test "at the next test." I'm not sure when that is, but I'm in no real hurry. I'll test when I feel almost ready. (I believe the right time to do almost anything is when you're "almost" ready).
I think I'm also going to post regularly on insights I get from class, or about class, or outside of class in an Aikido context.
As it happens, we started a new session this week.
For those of you who don't know our Dojo (Roanoke Budo Kai), we train at two different Parks and Rec locations, and these facilities have a regular schedule of classes that repeats like "semesters." Our dojo has developed a syllabus of sorts that repeats anew each semester.
Our first class is always dedicated to chokes. So let me start there.
I hate choke class. I've made it pretty clear. I hate it because it's not much fun, it really doesn't use a lot of Aikido principles, it's untraditional, and it's really all about self-defense (which is not why I, personally, do Aikido). I also feel like the first few classes of a new semester should do things that encourage students to come back -- attrition is SO high for new students in the first few weeks of Aikido. I don't think choke class does that.
However... we did have a very open and frank conversation about it before class. I made it clear how I felt, but I also made it clear that there are other things that I DO like that would also turn certain new students off (like Ukemi). I understand completely that it's different for everyone.
I did get one new perspective during the conversation... Goodbar Sensei pointed out that one of the very reasons I don't like choke class -- especially at the start -- is exactly why we do it: because you really don't have to know a lot of Aikido principles to get something out of it. I hadn't looked at it that way before.
And with that in mind, we engaged in a class that, as it turns out, actually didn't have any brand-new students, so Sensei allowed us to go past the day-one basics to the "next now" kind of training. And, wouldn't you know it... I learned a few things. LOL.
I wrote my notes on the whiteboard in the room:
I'm going to go through each of these...
Inside Blend
At our dojo, most of our blends have typically been "outside" blends. That is, the blend results in Nage standing beside Uke, usually pretty much hip to hip -- maneuvering outside the attack. For instance, if Uke attacks with a right-handed Shomen-uchi (overhead strike) or Men-Tsuki (high punch), Nage will enter and turn to his/her right and end up next to Uke's right hip, in a mirror-image.
The same attack met with an inside blend would have Nage blending by stepping off-line to the right, in front of Uke, while taking their balance (Kuzushi) that way.
At the other dojos I've trained at, inside blends were more common. I'm SO happy that this blend has been introduced (perhaps re-introduced) at our Dojo. It's an option that needs to be explored.
It also happens to suit my personal style rather well. Probably because I'm rather tall, I prefer larger, open movements over tighter, in-close ones.
Heissenberg
This was just a reference to a comment I made to something that Goodbar Sensei was stressing on this particular day -- that the observer affects the experiment. As we train, each action/reaction creates the "next now" (Sensei's words) that we need to be aware of, moment to moment.
Scissors
Sensei pointed out that when you try to cut something with scissors -- especially something tricky like cellophane -- there needs to be some tension in the stuff you're cutting or the scissors won't work. This is an analogy that can be used in Aikido. We need to strive for the right amount of "tension" in the system (Uke and Nage) so that the techniques will work. Too stiff, and it won't cut -- at least not with scissors. Too limp, and it won't cut because the material just lips between the blades.
Yokomenuchi Sumiotoshi
I got to work with Brielle Sensei (a.k.a. "AK"). We was experimenting with Yokomenuchi Sumiotoshi, and having fun with a different way of capturing the momentum of the attack. Seems that often we teach the attack with a lot of irimi (entering), and, in on this day he was enjoying how more tenkan (turning) can really work wonders. In fact, it really feels like entering to the rear. Said that way, it shouldn't be so surprising.
It was just worth noting for me because it's fun to realize that even folks who have been training as long as AK has can find something largely "brand new" in a technique they've been doing for decades.
Nervous System
Sensei made a comment that stuck when he said "you're not just dealing with a physical body [or even a brain]. You're dealing with a nervous system." We were having fun with distraction techniques as silly as a poke in the ribs, or even a tickle. Anything to take the attacker's mind off their attack so that the situation can be controlled from another perspective.
I find this concept particularly interesting in the sense that it applies outside the physical practice of Aikido, to the idea of having better conversations. More on that soon, when I develop my ideas about how Aikido is a beautiful metaphor for the study of conversation.
Thumb on Reverse Kote-Gaeshi
This was just a little physical detail of how I found something that works for me doing this technique. Again, I was working with AK -- who is very physically strong, and has really large hands. I consistently found myself in the position during this reverse wrist-technique where I felt my own hand was at a physical disadvantage -- particularly putting my own thumb at risk. After some experimenting, I realized that if I tuck my thumb and focus more on the two fingers of my had that are holding the meat of Uke's hand on the thumb side of his hand, then I have lots more control and I don't put my own thumb in danger.
I'm sure there's that this explanation means very little to anybody but me. Hopefully what I've written is enough to remind of of it, so that I can remember it and show it to people I'm working with.
