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.
I just read a great article, sent to me by my long-time friend, Wayne. Wayne is really smart. I really value what Wayne says. And yet Wayne and I disagree a lot. So much so that, over the years, I don't even open most of his emails because the subject line seems so biased.
I've been focusing my energy these days on trying to change the way we have conversations (see understandingonpurpose.com), so sometimes I crack my neck and remind myself that Wayne's thoughts are a rich source of training material. I mean, if I can't change the conversation with a long-time friend, what chance do I have with relative strangers?
I've said it before. The reason I train in Aikido is because, if I took the way I see conflict (ideally) and put it into a dance, it would look like Aikido. Almost everything in the physical dance of Aikido is analogous to something in the verbal dance of a conversation -- particularly debate, or argument.
So. A line in the article hit me in the face:
I loved this, because I've often taught that our relationship to our Uke in Aikido is a "frame" -- I usually use this language when working with dancers, because they immediately get it.
It goes even deeper. The scientific study referenced in the article drew a conclusion:
To those of us who study Aikido, this sounds a lot like "blending" with an attack (as opposed to blocking it).
"While it's true that someone can impede our actions, they can't impede our intentions and our attitudes, which have the power of being conditional and adaptable. For the mind adapts and converts any obstacle to its action into a means of achieving it. That which is an impediment to action is turned to advance action. The obstacle on the path becomes the way." -- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations, 5.20
So, it seems that Marcus Aurelius was studying Aikido 2000 years before O'Sensei, and didn't even know it. :-)
I'm posting this on my Aikido blog because Covid-19 is keeping me off the mat.
People use numbers to tell the story they want to tell. The President does it, and people who don't like the President do it. The numbers "we" use are "the whole story," while the number the "other side" uses are "fake news" or "misleading."
I don't like the President. Whatever. But whether a statistic about Coronavirus makes him look good or look bad is none of my concern. Frankly, unless you're his campaign manager, it shouldn't be yours.
More Corona testing is good, because the more we know, the better. The US seems to be doing reasonably well compared to other countries.
The President uses "more testing" to downplay when an increase in cases makes him look bad. The President's detractors tend to use it to indicate things are getting worse -- which, BTW, they are -- but not just because of "more cases."
The President likes to point out that we have a lower death rate than a lot of other countries -- which is true (~3.3%).
But the death rate factors in the number of cases. So, for this argument, more cases makes the President look better, not worse. This morning I saw the President talk about "comparatively fewer deaths" -- which is incorrect. We have comparatively more deaths (in part because we have a larger country). But he was implying a death rate. "Number of deaths" and "death rate" are different statistics that are used interchangeably, which IS misleading.
The one statistic that is relatively unaffected by the number of tests is the number of deaths -- and of course this should be considered per capita when comparing with other countries. So here's that number -- we are doing better than Belgium, the UK, Peru, Spain, Italy, Sweden, and Chile, but worse than everyone else:
I can't find a graph that shows deaths-per-capita over time, to see if it's going up or down. I did find this quote: "The increase of 10,000 deaths in 11 days is the fastest in the United States since early June."
It's Thursday. Last Monday, I took a big fall. I had a pull-up bar installed in a doorway at home. Paid about $40 for it. It was an expansion rod, but also set on top of two pegs that screwed into the door frame. I'd been using it for a couple of weeks.
On this particular day, however, I was up at the top of a pull-up, with my feet held out in front of me (I'm tall, and that's the only way to get full arm extension at the bottom of the movement). You guessed it -- the bar broke loose.
Specifically, the left side gave way. In an instant, I fell from about six feet to the floor, which is tile on concrete slab. I landed on my upper back -- almost flat, with a little cheat to the left. I landed with a great thud. There was no time to "slap out" even if I had not had a pull-up bar in my hands. This was NOT a feather fall.
I sat up, stunned, taking inventory. I really thought I had broken something in my upper back. Also, my left elbow was bleeding pretty badly, apparently from contacting the metal strip in the doorway. And my left butt cheek was sore, too -- clearly must've come down a little harder on that side.
Here's the thing. I did NOT slam my head onto the tile. My head did not touch. Again -- tile on concrete slab. There was nobody home that could help me. I could have died in a pool of blood.
Did my Aikido training help? I have to believe it did. There was NO time plan this fall -- I could do the math, but I won't. My body reacted instinctively, resulting in two things: 1) I my head off the floor, and 2) I relaxed juuust enough to keep me from serious injury.
Coulda been dumb luck, too. Probably a little of both.
It's now about 19 days later. My hip is still a little bruised, my elbow is still puffy and tender, and my neck is still stiff. But I did no permanent damage.
These days, racism is a hot topic. There’s a lot to say about it. I’m far from an expert on the subject. I was taught, like most I guess, to treat people the same, at least in the sense that ethnicity shouldn’t and doesn’t matter. Outwardly I was taught this. I, like most, also picked up thousands of subtle lessons that were not explicitly “taught.” Movies, the media, they all steer us to certain stereotypes that provide us barriers that we have to consciously overcome. Even in my own family, if it became necessary to refer to someone as black or Jewish, it was always done in hushed tones. Times have changed, I told myself.
So anyway, I found myself recently frustrated about having to pick apart and dissect every word coming out of my mouth for fear of being racist – or at least being called racist.
I was thinking about this while learning a new Jo Kata (actually, one I used to know a long time ago). I have to move in ways I’m not used to. Familiar things are wrong in this new context. Some movements are backwards. The flow is different. The counting is different. I have to focus on every little detail, and slow it way, way down (for now), to carve those new pathways in my brain. It's really uncomfortable.
So it occurred to me that maybe the process of picking things apart and dissecting every word coming out of my mouth is part of a learning process, too. Maybe having labels and boundaries and rules is all part of taking baby steps to a greater understanding – even if it is frustrating and sometimes almost debilitating. Not maybe. I know this. But sometimes I forget.
So maybe one way to think about the recent protests is to consider them a call for us – for society in general -- to take some refresher courses in treating people with equal respect, compassion, and trust, no matter their ethnicity. Refresher courses are where you slow everything waaaay down, focus on every stinkin’ little detail, and develop muscle memory that maybe we’ve forgotten (or never had in the first place).
