You never step into the same river twice...

Recently several of my relationships have undergone massive shifts. This is nothing out of the ordinary, just the normal ebb and flow of life. But in recent months the landscape of my friendships has changed quite dramatically. Most notably, several of my friends have relocated to points foreign and overseas, with one even moving to the conflict-torn mountain kingdom of Nepal, nestled in the Himalayas.

And suddenly those regular (and irregular) get-togethers, those walks along the sea-shore or the movies on the art circuit are no longer there. The in-depth, late-night conversations about conflict, spirituality, raising the kundalini, life, the universe and everything will no longer take place in their customary form.

Every friend raises in us a world within us, possibly undiscovered and dormant, definitely unchartered, until they come along. "Lovers don't finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along", said Rumi.So it is important to treasure the moment of meeting, to cherish the time you spend together and to value the richness each friend brings to your life.

Similarly on the tatami, each person with whom you train offers you something different, a new lesson or a new take on an old lesson. As such, each uke is someone to treasure whether s/he is a high-ranking dan grade or has just stepped onto the mat.

Aikido, as a system, relies on this sense of relationship between uke and tori. Each technique is created in the moment of the coming together. I rely on the presence of uke to perfect my technique, to challenge who I am, to help me develop into a better aikidoka, into a better person. While I may be able to practice my individual boy movements (tai no henko) by myself, I rely on a dynamic, fluid and mutual relationship with uke in order to develop my technique, and to create the beauty inherent in Aikido.

So cherish uke for the time you have to train with him/her. S/he has a special purpose in training with you on this technique. Next time you meet, the circumstances will be different and both of you will hopefully be changed....

See you on the tatami

Sacrifice & Celebration

Today, Tuesday 24/10/2006, is Eid-ul-Fitr, the day marking the end of the Muslim holy month of Ramadhan - a month of fasting and sacrifice and now a day of feasting and thanksgiving. All over the world Muslims have been refraining from eating, drinking, sex and generally misbehaviour between the hours of sunrise and sunset for a month. Of course over the last month or so not only Muslims around the world were fasting; Hindus were fasting (Pratassi) in anticipation of of Diwali (or the festival of lights) and Jews fasted for 25 hrs over Yom Kippur (Day of Atonement) following their new year celebrations a week or so before. And while all of these religious and cultural practices may have different expression and focuses, there is a common thread of self-development, purification and striving to a higher ideal that runs through all of them

A thread that is present also in our Aikido practice. The notion of misogi (purification) is one that pervades Aikido - not only in the traditional rowing (tori-fune) exercise performed at the beginning of the class, but also in how our practice seeks to cleanse our movements, our energy field, our relations with others of disharmony and impurities.

Misogi practice is part of the Shinto tradition and focuses on purifying the body, the heart and the spirit.

• Purifying the physical body involves the literal washing away of external dirt, purifying the blood stream through diet [the misogi diet is primarily grain based with the addition of seasonal fruits and vegetables] and adjusting daily activity and sleep. Of primary importance is regulating body movement in a way to increase inner and outer harmony.
• Heart Misogi is the releasing of old thought patterns and beliefs that are no longer life enhancing, moving towards a positive mental life and understanding to obtain inner harmony, manifesting kansha (thankfulness) leading to a balanced heart whose attributes are:

Akaki kokoro - purity and cheerfulness of heart/brightness/shining like the sun.
Kiyoki kokoro - a heart of jewel-like clarity and brilliance.
Makoto kokoro - a heart of sincerity
Naoki kokoro - a childlike heart without the desire to decieve.
Tadashiki kokoro - a heart which seeks justice.

Our movements, flowing as they are, clear the space, both outside of ourselves and within, of stagnant vibrations.

O-Sensei saw this as the essence of Aikido:

These movements are the basis of Aiki, moves which unite humankind with great nature, all given by Sarudahiko no O' Kami (gaurdian deity of Aiki). Aiki is misogi, misogi of ourselves. Aiki is the way of Misogi itself, the way to become Sarudahiko no O' Kami and stand on Ame no Ukihashi. In other words, the skills of Misogi are Aiki, the way of uniting Heaven and Earth, the way of world peace, the way to perfect humanity, the way of Kami, the way of the universe.

He also had some further advice for us:

"Rise early in the morning to greet the sun. Inhale and let yourself soar to the ends of the universe; breathe out and let the cosmos inside. Next breathe up the fecundity and vibrance of the earth. Blend the breath of earth with your own and become the breath of life itself. Your mind and body will be gladdened, depression and heartache will dissipate and you will be filled with gratitude (kansha).

So as the season of thanksgiving and celebration continues into Christmas, Hannukah and many other celebrations, let us continue our practice, regularly and mindful of the larger transformation we are engaged in.

See you on the mat soon,

Ghalib

Dulce et decorum est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind.
Drunk with fatigue, deaf even to the hoots
Of tired, outstripped Five Nines that dropped behind.
Gas! Gas! Quick, boys! - - An ecstacy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling,
And flound'ring like a man in fire or lime - -
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light.
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.
In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning
If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face.
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues, - -
My friend you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperateglory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.
-- Wilfred Owen

Aikido & Beginners

One of my teachers, Shihan Ken Cottier, founder of the Hong Kong Aikido Federation, was unable to attend the AFSA Winter School this year. Going through my papers I found an article he wrote many years ago, first published in AIKIDO (vol.14 no.4), the official publication of the AIKIKAI FOUNDATION- and the message and wisdom is still as true now as it was then. For teachers and students alike. I share it with you...

With over 4,000,000,000 people occupying this planet of ours is it not an amazing fact that not even two of us are alike? What may be considered beautiful to one, is quite unattractive and offers nothing to another. Some will obtain fulfilment and satisfaction in risking their lives to scale a dangerous mountain. Others get pleasure from spending a whole evening in front of the television set, in reading a book or collecting stamps. Some of us require so much out of life; others ask for so little. There are born fighters, having quick reactions and a natural fighting ability. Others tremble at the very thought of any form of violence. There are those that can endure much pain and physical hardships, even though small in body. Some have flexible joints and are naturally agile, whilst others may be stiff and inflexible. I can still remember during my school days one particular boy, although small, feared nobody, and challenged boys double his size.

When teaching beginners, I always try to bear these facts in mind. I think this is especially important if one is endeavouring to establish Aikido in an area where it is not well known, and beginners form the nucleus of the dojo. Even in well-established dojos. I feel special attention should be paid to beginners, rather than middle or senior kyu grades, who have already spent one or two years in Aikido, and have accepted it.

In the opening paragraph, I spoke of how different we all are. I have met beginners who have offered strong resistance and have been quite unconcerned by my grade. On the other hand there have been others who have been genuinely afraid on being approached and have become tense and nervous. I also find it interesting that some, although being well-educated, just cannot coordinate between mind and body. One fellow immediately comes to mind. I spend hours simply trying to teach him irimi tenkan. I would get him to do it then circle the dojo to concentrate on others. By the time I got back to him again he had always forgotten it. He was a schoolteacher.

Certain Aikido techniques are rather complex. As being executed, we must concentrate on a number of points at the same time. For instance, distance, hands, feet, head etc. I have a friend who is a skiing coach. We were once discussing teaching methods. "The mind can only accept so much at a time," he said. "If we give a beginner too many points to concentrate on at the same time, this floods the mind," he said. I went along with this. To prove his point he went on telling me that one day whilst in charge of a number of complete beginners,he decided to try something different. He split them up into two groups. To the first group he explained, in his usual manner, exactly what to do with their heads, hands, elbows, knees and feet. To the second group he simply spoke two words: "Lean forward". He said that it was interesting to note that the second group got just as far, and did just as well, as the first group. This gave me something to think about regarding the teaching of Aikido to beginners.

A number of times beginners and lower kyu grades have disappointedly told me that their partners could easily stop them from doing the technique that was being taught. I have tried to point out to them that it is not too difficult to resist each other if they of equal grade, as their partner knows exactly what they are attempting to do during class time.

I feel that many beginners, and graded members too for that matter, really think that they are supposed to resist against each other, rather than work together during class time to improve their Aikido. I mentioned earlier how some beginners become very tense and stiff when approached by a teacher. And does this not sometimes result in injuries? Especially if applications are being taught. The teacher on meeting this stiffness and (out of fear) unintentional resistance, has to exert more pressure on the joint, resulting in the application being applied suddenly, rather than gradually.

Another type of beginner is the one that picks up books dwelling on the spiritual and mental side of Aikido, and its relationship to Zen and other forms of mind training. So they begin their physical training in Aikido concentrating only on ki. Is this not trying to run before we can walk? I feel we should know what we are doing with our hands and feet, in basic techniques, before getting too deeply into the spiritual and mental side of the art.

Finally, still dwelling on how different we all are, there are some of us that are so easily influenced by magazines, movies, television, books or other people. We see a Bruce Lee movie and enrol at the nearest dojo expecting to become experts in a matter of months, only to find that it requires years of dedicated practice to become qualified in any of the arts.

I hope these observations I have made will be of some help to those who have just started in Aikido.

Kenneth Cottier
Hong Kong Aikikai

(Shihan Ken Cottier (6th dan) studied under the Founder of Aikido, O-Sensei, from the early '60's and continued to live and train in Japan for almost 25 years. After a couple of years back in England in the mid '80's he went to Hong Kong where he has been the senior instructor to the Hong Kong Aikido Association, and latterly the President of the Association. Ken is a member of the Superior Council of the International Aikido Federation for about 10 years and is one of the Aikikai foundations most trusted and respected "old boys". Sensei Ken, as he is fondly referred to in South Africa is Honorary Life President of the Aikido Federation of South Africa.)











 

Sunday Seminar 02 July 2006 "Turning and returning to a secret place inside...."

Even an old hit from the Eighties can sometimes hold a universal truth . That song by Berlin ("Take my breath away") is currently making a comeback being sung by Jessica Simpson - but that was not why it suddenly popped into my head this week... :-)

This past fortnight we have been concentrating on a rather basic sequence of body movements this week - in response to a grab from gyaku-hamni (or opposite posture), we turned in tenkan, then open up our stance as uke comes around and then entered in a triangulated fashion in order to execute the technique. And it did not matter what the technique was - kokyu-nage, uchi kaiten-nage, kote-gaeshi, ikkyo - they all started out with this basic sequence of moves. And that got me thinking... Why this particular sequence?


Well at one level this sequence represents the three shapes upon which much of Aikido rests - the circle, the square and the triangle. These three shapes have both a practical and a spiritual component - our triangular posture offers the smallest target to uke and an easy wedge shape for entering into the face of an attack; the square describes how solid one's foundation needs to be in order to execute a technique; and the circle presents the most powerful shape to dissipate the incoming force. At another level these shapes depict different aspects of our engagement with this world.

In executing the movements, it is critical to maintain 2 points of contact - with uke, and equally importantly with our own centre. And I believe it is important to maintain the critical distance (ma-ai) between those two points throughout the movement - collapse the arm as you turn or as uke comes around and you are liable to end up with a fist in your face as uke enters your space; extend your arm as you turn and you may find yourself being pulled out of your centre by a strong uke. Similarly, as you square yourself and then enter deeply to uke's rear, maintaining this distance between your centre and uke ought to result in an effortless technique as you find yourself in just the right place at just the right time. The power of kokyo-rokyo lies after all in a combination of proper timing, precise body placement (tai no henko) and calm breathing.


So ultimately this most basic combination of movements teaches us how important it is to be aware of who and where you are while being attuned and reactive to those around you.

Aikido teaches us to turn, and turn, and turn some more. This turning ultimately becomes a return. And that return is always to that "secret place inside" - inside you. So all this turning really teaches us to refocus on what is within our sphere of control - ourselves. And by maintaining that control over ourselves, we are able to extend our influence over those who come within that sphere - regardless of their original intention.

Tenkan (or turning) reminds us of our position relative to uke, rather than being distracted by uke's attack and intention for us. The power of that initial tenkan lies in teaching us that the turn must happen within ourselves - that we must stop fighting and learn to turn the fight into something else. Saotome Sensei said that "the desired result of Aikido is not the physical power of technique; it is the power of wisdom. But solid technique is the first step, the foundation upon which to build. The movement and shape of the body reveal and simultaneously affect the movement and shape of the spirit".

So while we cannot reach inside uke and change his/her negative intention/aggression (as demonstrated by his/her attack), through repositioning ourselves, through our own focused, centered, powerful, and most importantly, compassionate movement we can begin to help uke see a different way. Equally importantly, it can show ourselves a different way of reacting to the aggression of others; our body movements (tai-no-henko), trained over time, help us overcome the mental block(s) we might have in the face of an attack, born from fear or stress.

Again Saotome Sensei says that "within a movement of complete harmony, you cannot see the power, for there is no struggle. Balance, timing and the use of space and spiritual communication [the essence of kokyuho] become dynamic art...Aikido is a dynamic poem of movement...You cannot imitate the power of an ocean wave; you must become the ocean itself. You must see not just small technique but the entire picture of the movement. You must extend your creativity and create an image of power and reality. Your movement is a poem. You are the wind, the sun, a mountain, and, exactly, you are art".

So in this simple combination of body movements lie the secret of transforming not just ourselves, but our relationship to the world around us, and ultimately the world itself.


O-Sensei said:

Contemplate the workings of this world, listen to the words of the wise and take all that is good as your own. With this as your base, open your own door to truth. Do not overlook the truth that is right before you. Study how water flows in a valley stream, smoothly and freely between the rocks. Also learn from holy books and wise people. Everything - even mountains, rivers, plants and trees - should be your teacher.

So you will have to forgive me as I now go off for a walk along a mountain path (aren't we lucky here in Cape Town that I can do that even in the heart of winter!!!) to find another teacher ;-)



See you on the tatami soon..





 

Reflection....



"...Forget those clever techniques and self-improvement programs. Do not promise

to cure people, to make people feel good, to make life fair, sane, or humane.
Do not offer programs that appeal to selfishness, programs that look to blame
others and look outward.

No teacher can make you be happy, prosperous, healthy or powerful. No rules, strategies, techniques or quick-fix can enforce these  qualities.

If you wish to improve yourself try silence -or- walking or just being still in 
the room. Listen, reflect, settle. Then move on...". 

To know how other people behave takes intelligence,

but to know myself takes wisdom.

To manage other people's lives takes strength,

to manage my own life takes true power.

If I am content with what I have,

I can live simply and enjoy both prosperity and free time.

If my goals are clear I can achieve them without fuss.

If I am at peace with myself, I will not spend my

life force in conflicts.

If I have learned to let go, I do not fear dying.



- Tao



 

Sensei Franco Martuffi executing iriminage at the recent Regional course held in Cape Town

Suwari waza ikkyo

Sunset over Polokwane

Timing

This week I spent a lot of time in airport lounges as I traversed the length of this beautiful country flying from Cape Town in the South to Polokwane in the North, and back again. Only to return the following day to Johannesburg... And midway through the week was the start of a public holiday and an extremely long weekend for some. And that was when my timing failed me.
The exodus from Johannesburg began early on Wednesday afternoon, resulting in a traffic log-jam (and a miscalculation of the time required to get to the airport), and me missing my flight by about 7 minutes. It might as well have been 70! The result was the same - the cost of an overnight stay in an hotel; the frustration of being told that all 5 subsequent flights were oversubscribed and having my standby hopes dashed time after time; and the inconvenience of all those personal arrangements that had to be reshuffled. Now some 21 hours later, I am finally at 31,000 feet, winging my way home...

But it's got me thinking about the importance of getting your timing just right. Like most things in life, the Goldilocks principle (not too hot, not too cold, just right) applies. Get there too early and you risk frustration, boredom and the sense of a waste of time. Get there too late and you risk - well you already know what I risked... The aim is to get there just in time.

The central feature of Aikido - kokyo-nage (breath power throw) - relies on 3 legs for its effectiveness: timing, body placement and relaxed breath power. Of the three, getting the timing just right is crucial to the effortless execution of the technique we see so often in the demonstrations by Aikido masters and senior grades.

Start moving too soon and you telegraph your intention to your attacker who simply needs to change tack to clobber you. Leave it too late and you are likely to be overwhelmed by the force of the attack. Getting the timing, like Goldilocks, just right requires a connection with uke attacker) so that I move in the moment that the intention to attack me is actualised yet not completely formed. It means that I unsettle uke in that moment when s/he reaches for me by drawing her/him up or out.
Getting it 'just right' means maintaining the connection by matching the speed of the attack and blending body movements so that ultimately uke and tori (attacker and defender) move as one unit.
The effort tori puts in then becomes a higher level one - no longer merely physically ensuring that s/he is in the right place at the right time, but an effort at maintaining the connection with uke, nurturing the relationship... And when it is 'just right' the movement is beautiful to behold, easy to execute and a pleasure to enjoy.

So right now I'm going to sit back in to my seat, close my eyes and relish the fact that the pilot has just announced that he's gotten the timing 'just right' and that we'll be landing on time.

PS. Attached is another good reason to get the timing just right - the sunset in Polokwane just after we landed. Enjoy!!!

See you on the tatami!!

(read this and my other blogs at aiki4life.blogspot.com)

The Case of the Reluctant Uke

I came across this article on a very useful website (www.aikidojournal.com). I thought we should all ponder on our own practice - either in encountering a reluctant uke, or being one.


The following article was prepared with the kind assistance of Jon Aoki of the USA.

"For those of us not congenitally attracted to violence, aikido training sometimes presents problems that are difficult to ignore. The come in human form and in distinct personality types. Amongst these is the reluctant uke.

This is the guy who tries to block all your efforts to apply a technique and takes a smug delight in refusing to fall. He dedicates his time on the mat to trying to prove your techniques do not work. And sometimes he succeeds.

He may be new to aikido, having migrated from another martial art or, worse, some one with years of experience who knows precisely when to make himself totally uncooperative for maximum effect.

Typically he seems not to understand how meaningless and destructive his behavior is, and no amount of aikido philosophy gets through to him. He sees everything in competitive terms and believes that every technique must work regardless of the circumstances. Only rarely will he change his spots.

How many people have given up aikido because of him? How many women have been turned away from the art by his chauvinistic behavior? How many honest and sincere instructors has he caused to hang up their hakama, convinced they are not qualified to teach?

Sometimes the reluctant uke is amenable to reason and will respond to a pep-talk, provided it is delivered early in his career. He should not be confused, by the way, with the uke who holds firmly or strikes positively in order for both partners to research and discover the meaning of aikido. The difference is in the attitude and the intention.

Of course the reluctant uke can be dealt with physically, by a swift atemi or a painful and dangerous abbreviation of a technique, and some instructors have earned a fearsome reputation for meting out this kind of eye for an eye treatment, but many of us hesitate to respond in this way. Usually the effort to block a technique makes the blocker an easy target for a punch, but retaliation is not consistent with the aims of aikido, and could lead to an ongoing exchange no different from a contest.

My own son went through a period (thankfully short-lived) during which he became a very reluctant uke indeed. While I was slowly performing a technique in front of a class he would suddenly exert his full strength to block it halfway through. To respond with atemi was not really an option under the circumstances.

We also had a champion power-lifter in our class who used to apply his massive strength at the most unexpected times. Once when we were doing kokyuho he suddenly pulled my arms in towards him, enveloped them with his brawn and pinned them under his armpits. Aside from head-butting him or biting his nose-options I did not consider appropriate or necessary-I was powerless.

No doubt readers have had similar experiences and will recognize the type of attitude. It was a type neatly represented by a Chinese martial arts instructor I once met in Hong Kong. I only visited him at the suggestion of a friend who said the man would be glad to meet me and keen to exchange technical know-how. But, in the event, he was very suspicious and began interrogating me on my motives in coming to see him. I was about to flag the whole scenario away as another cross- cultural cock-up when he said, O.K., show me some aikido.

Thinking to start nikyo, I invited him to grip my wrist, whereupon he made the memorable and no doubt perfectly logical remark, from his point of view: Why would I do anything as stupid as that? He obviously saw the whole exchange as a challenge aimed at testing him or showing him that my technique was superior to his.

Unfortunately, many aikidoka have the same attitude- having missed the point of training by a country mile and having failed to see that aikido is defensive, not offensive and that its goals transcend winning and losing. When you take on aikido you must put aside the whole idea of winning and losing and focus on achieving harmony. You can't have it both ways.

Seeing aikido in competitive terms is like trying to prove something that cannot be proven. Occasionally even a Japanese will display this attitude, though the respect for authority in Japan generally migrates against this, and most Japanese aikidoka appear to accept the nage-uke (performer-receiver) cooperative system of training. One Japanese friend told me, under the influence of alcohol, that he would love to have just one shot at testing his sensei's skill by refusing to fall nicely all the time. He added that he was prepared to pay all his own hospital bills! In general, Japanese are more inclined to abuse their position as nage by thrashing their unfortunate and obedient ukes themselves, although I have met plenty of the latter in Japan.

What is so puzzling to me is not just the fact that people seem unable to think outside the parameters of a contest but that they confound training in the dojo with reality. Getting the reluctant uke to understand this is often a major challenge. (If only he would just go away and take up a competitive sport like judo or karate where he could block to his heart's content!) Aikido is not, after all, for those who feel the need to defend their egos at all times. We can, within limits, always learn something by trying to relate to these contrary individuals, but those limits need to be recognized, and going beyond them can be counter-productive to say the least.

Dojo training is not a life-and-death affair, and there are many things you cannot and need not do in the context of training. Just as you cannot do ikkyo on an elephant or kokyuho on a concrete wall, there are some ukes who cannot be thrown against their will without nage resorting to dangerous or violent tactics departing, in the process, from the principles of aikido training.

How you react is a measure of your training and your personal philosophy: a laugh or a smile may be enough. Though the urge to suggest, in one way or another, that these ukes get a life can be quite strong, we need to learn to take a metaphorical step back (which is also a sound technical approach) and to calmly refuse to play the reluctant uke's game. Even if you cannot do anything with him, it really does not matter, as it is only a game after all. Paradoxically, a realization of this fact is sometimes all it takes for the technique to actually work, but you should accept the fact that you can't win ‘em all.

When it is your turn to be uke and you feel you could stop your partner's movement, you should resist the temptation and allow him to compete his technique. What have you got to lose? What do you gain otherwise? Certainly you show your partner the inadequacy of his technique by blocking it, but there are more positive ways to encourage him and help him to improve.

Some instructors precede their demonstration of a technique with a realistic version, as opposed to the standard dojo version. This is a sort of a bad guy-good guy approach where you explain how to break an arm with ikkyo, smash a head with shihonage or mangle a wrist with sankyo – not forgetting the devastation that can be wreaked with powerful atemi. You then proceed with aikido…. But, in the dojo, we do it this way. While okay up to a point, this approach panders to the competitive mentality and can become an end in itself, to the detriment of the aikido spirit.

The competitive mentality can invade a dojo like a virus against which a constructive, harmonious training atmosphere offers little immunity. Newcomers feel intimidated and do not speak out, and often the instructor feels unable to do so either, without losing face. He may feel that he should be able to take all this in his stride, just as O-Sensei accepted challenges from all-comers in the old days.

Far better, I think, to acknowledge that we are not O-Sensei and that these are not the old days. It is the instructor's responsibility to protect his students from ignorant people and to ensure the dojo is a place where something worthwhile can be learned, and where students treat each other with mutual respect, not a battlefield for shallow egos intent on outdoing one another. The dojo should be a sanctuary where one can safely experiment with ideas and techniques that aim for a completely different outcome.

The difference between training and reality (and between a competitive sport and a martial way) is well illustrated by the aikidoka who responded to a challenge from a judo man by showing up with a live sword tucked in his belt. These days, however, it is not very practical to say it with swords whenever taijutsu seems inadequate, but another weapon, often underestimated, is the spoken word. Despite the stoic budo tradition which prizes the strong, silent type, I feel it is appropriate to speak up when one encounters the boorish, reluctant uke. This is by no means easy to do and calls for some resolve. It may not stamp out the breed but it may make life more tolerable for many members of the dojo, i.e., for those who really want to learn aikido and have no interest in competing. Left unchecked the reluctant uke just becomes more and more reluctant.

Unfortunately, the seniority system tends to intimidate beginners, who are the ones most likely to be affected by blocking and bullying, but I feel that remaining silent while someone is applying unnecessary force in the dojo is an outdated and inappropriate attitude. Furthermore, it is always better to use your tongue than your fists, and to use your brain before trying to brain someone else, or before they try to brain you.

Old attitudes die hard, as I found when visiting Japan recently. I was sitting with a group of students in one of the dojos I used to train in when somebody mentioned my articles in Aikido Journal. The sensei present said, "It is interesting that these days virtually anyone can write about aikido, whereas in the old days only the very top teachers dared to do so." (He actually used the Japanese words "were allowed to," which is revealing.)

Whether this remark was aimed at me (if the cap fits, wear it) or was just a generalization I do not know for sure. However, I believe anyone is entitled to speak or write about aikido, regardless of rank or experience. It is up to the listener or reader to decide how much credibility to give their words. Freedom of expression is just one of the planks of democracy that many older-generation Japanese appear to have difficulty with.

When it comes to O-Sensei-style mystical insight and any attempt to explain that in words, I would agree that he who speaks does not know and I would be the first to accept whatever divine punishment came my way if I even pretended I had access to that kind of knowledge. I suspect such punishment would not be as dramatic as a bolt of lightning, but would more likely take the form of a gradual slide into even greater ignorance. You would end up like the proverbial man without a torch, in the coal-cellar, searching for the black cat – that isn't there! In that sense, ignorance is its own reward. It is risk one has to take when opening one's mouth on anything, but this should not stop anyone protesting at glaring breaches of the aikido spirit.

Coal-cellars aside, there is a dark side to aikido which is typified by the reluctant uke, and if senior exponents have become blasé? about it, then it is important for newcomers and those who can still see it clearly to show it up by whatever means they can. They have as much right as anyone else to speak up.

Experience does not automatically lead to enlightenment, and some senseis talk utter rot while some ordinary people have far more wisdom to offer. It is a sorry delusion to assume that people with long experience of aikido are somehow superior. Likewise, any unwritten rule that prevents a person from protesting about that abuse of power by those in high places should be relegated to the garbage heap of worthless traditions.

The danger of becoming psychologically desensitized to violence increases every time it is ignored and we need only look at what is going on in Europe right now to see the end result of this attitude.

The old Roman adage si vis pacem para bellum (if you want peace prepare for war) is another bit of traditional wisdom that does not fit the observable facts. Preparation for war has always led to war, and it is depressing to see this borne out even as we speak.

We should thank our lucky starts that we are able to practice aikido, where the opposite aspect of the human spirit is manifested.

The least we can do is to try and maintain peace and harmony in our aikido training, insignificant though this may seem in comparison with the scale and horror of the current destructive global events.

There is more than enough conflict in the world already.

Let us see if we can find another way."

__________________

Aikido is, in the words of O-Sensei, a way of training the body and the spirit. For this reason our practice on the mat can never be divorced from our practice of Life. Our approach to one will be reflected in our approach to the other. And our experience in one will definitely influence our experience in the other. It therefore stands to reason that if there is some aspect of our life that we would like to improve, by practicing consciously and with awareness on the tatami, we could effect a change - or even just explore the limits of ourselves and our baggage.

Hope to see you on the mat soon,

Ghalib

It always amazed me. She either could see things that I could not see or she had an unquestionable trust in the order of things. She wasn't reckless but only acted as if each step was a new beginning. What happened next could not be determined until the beginning had happened. Each moment and each step was not predetermined or premeditated. Each moment and each step determined her presence in the only things that existed then, that was the moment to which she gave her attention. She couldn't relive it and certainly didn't have the time to stop and think about it now. It had no value. She also couldn't worry about twelve steps ahead because she was only able to focus on the uncertainty and the experience of the moment. There was no time for the future, a future that could not be predicted with the same certainty as experiencing the present.

It was amazing and beautiful. It seemed like reckless abandon; yet it seemed like every step was well choreographed. There were no slip or miscalculations. It seemed like she had done this a hundred times before and was now doing it for the hundredth and first time with her eyes closed. But I knew this was not so. We had not been here before.

There was no time for her to plan a course of action. There was no time to plan a course of action. There was no time for her to pause and plan her next step. It was all happening in a smooth and spontaneous manner. It was happening in the present moment. It was as if you were jumping from lily pad to lily pad - unable to stop for a moment for fear that you will sink. However, for her it seemed that at each jump there was also a sensory assessment of the current situation and a spontaneous adjustment for the next moment.

I don't know how it is done. I don't believe that it is a reckless act. My sense is that there was a desire to enjoy the romp and to release to the care of the Fates. If disaster were to strike, it would be dealt with in that moment. If disaster were terminal, there would be no concerns after that.

Molly, golden retriever, was my teacher at that moment during our walk through the woods. For Molly it was a joyous romp through the bushes, down the slopes, through the creek, and from rock to rock - an adventure that for me was the necessary exercising of the family dog.

(Aikido for self discovery, Stan Wrobel)


Life is full of surprises. And it requires of us an awareness that is similar to dancing on a shifting carpet.

Today at class, students were practicing their ukemi (break-falls). This included sliding into a rear break-fall under a sweeping jo (short staff). One student moved too slowly, too stuck in his position to move out of the way in time and ended up colliding with the jo, not hard mind you, but hard enough to smart and to stop him. Any number of factors could have caused the collision: thinking too long and too much, hesitating - and then being lost, a break in concentration and awareness, or indeed wanting the situation to end in a particular way when the circumstances did not allow for that.

Too often in life we remain attached to a particular outcome - even in the face of evidence to the contrary - and doggedly pursue OUR outcome often at great cost to ourselves.

On the mat this sometimes shows itself as a forcing through a particular technique - regardless of whether we clash with our partner (uke) - even if this means that we resort to overpowering uke with brute force. This then starts a downward spiral which ends with might being right. The short-term goal might be achieved - my opponent is down - but the long-term damage to the relationship might be irreparable.

In life, attachment to a particular outcome can show itself in everything from arguing a point just to be right through to schoolyard bullying or cause us to "pre-emptively" invade another sovereign country on the flimsiest of pretexts at great economic, social and human costs.

Aikido teaches us that we need to embrace the surprise, the uncertainty, the constant change in life through self-awareness, a trained body and an open attitude. It requires of us an integrated approach. Aikido requires us to interact with our uke second-by-second, reading his/her intention off his/her actions. It also requires us to be flexible and confident enough to adjust what we are doing to what is more appropriate, knowing that the ultimate outcome will be fresh, new, different perhaps to what either of us anticipated, but a constructive outcome nonetheless. It also helps us realise that at the end of every engagement, both uke and tori will be changed individuals.

Attachment to a particular outcome ultimately leads to a stuckness, a hardening of our position and our bones, a poke in the eye or death. Training in Aikido requires us to engage with both uke and life in a passionate, energised way that welcomes and embraces surprise.

Enjoy your training



Ghalib

2006 started with a bang - or more precisely a spark, a flame and ultimately a conflagration that engulfed much of the Peninsula. A chance cigarette butt, tossed negligently out of a car window wreaked havoc on the mountainside causing huge damage, leaving very visible blackened scars and even causing the death of a British tourist who was overcome by the smoke.
Even now, as I sit here in a farm-house in the Overberg the devastation of another fire is all too visible. Around me about 400 hectares of the unique fynbos vegetation of this part of the world was destroyed. Only quick thinking of the owners ensured that the farm-houses survived the flames.

This season of flames, of seeing nature's fury night after night from my balcony in the city, made me think of the elemental nature of our training. We're constantly balancing the four elements - fire,air, water and earth - in our training. Fire fills us with the passion and inspiration to practice, air (or kokyu rokyu) ensures that we have the relaxed connection to the universe that allows us to act without attachment, water gives us the flow to move circularly emulating the spirals in the universe and earth ensures we are grounded squarely in proper technique and good posture to channel all of this energy.

In order to gain the full benefit of our aikido training, it is necessary to find the balance between these elements - too much fire and we risk overheating and burning ourselves up (and possibly destroying uke); too much air in our practice and we may forget the realities of actual combat or a self-defence situation; too much water and our techniques lose the focus we need to take control of the situation; too much earth and we remain stuck in the face of an attack, unable to move quickly enough out of harm's way. So it is in finding the balance between these elements that the secret lies hidden. And for each of us that balance will be different because we may already have an excess of one or more of the elements. Through our practice then we need to awaken the dormant elements and calm down the hyper-excited ones.
As we practice and become aware of our own and others' actions and reactions, we will start to change - where we might have been shy and retiring, we may find ourselves moving more confidently; where before we might have brash and impulsive, finding the balance calms us down and makes us more thoughtful, strategic.

Just like the seasons are changing now and the blazing summer heat makes way for slightly cooler evenings of autumns and the plants gear up for the hibernation that winter brings, so too each of the elements are important, essential even and appropriate at different times. Knowing how to act appropriately and equally importantly, when to do so, is the product of a self-awareness, and a confidence that comes with regular practice.

See you on the mat

Ghalib