Four Makko-ho Exercises

Makko-ho was developed as way to rejuvenate the legs, correctly align the hips and spine, stimulate blood flow, sensitize the nervous system, and increase flexibility. Although the exercises are physical in nature, they make psychological demands of the practitioner. However, with persistence, patience, and a willingness to withstand minor pain, you will see some results in a short time and greater results over time.



There are only four exercise in Makko-ho. The following explanations and diagrams describe the ideal exercise positions. You probably will not be able to achieve the ideal positions in the beginning, and you may never achieve them, but results will come from achieving your best at each exercise.



Perform Makko-ho daily and hold each pose for about one minute.





Exercise One: Sit erect, heels together and aligned with knees, soles turned upward. In ideal pose, knees should rest on the floor. Keeping spine straight, lean forward to the floor. Beginners may grab feet and pull upper body down, while keeping spine straight.   

      







Exercise Two: Sit erect, legs extended in front, feet together and angled backward 60 degrees. Keeping spine straight, lean forward and rest chest on legs. Beginners may grab shins, ankles, or feet and pull upper body down, while keeping spine straight.   



       







Exercise Three: Sit erect, legs extended toward sides, feet angled backward 60 degrees. Optimum spread between the legs is 160 degrees. Keeping spine straight, lean forward and rest chest on floor. Beginners may grab shins, ankles, or feet and pull upper body down, while keeping spine straight.   



        







Exercise Four: Kneel on floor, toes pointed straight backward, and sit on floor between feet. Keeping spine straight, lean backward until back is flat on floor. Beginners may place hands behind on floor for support or sit on a cushion.   





 



Reference

Nagai, H. (1972). Makko-ho. Five Minutes Physical Fitness. San Francisco, CA: Japan Publications, Inc.

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Bred from Fear

On March 21, 1960 in Sharpeville in Gauteng, 69 people lost their lives and countless others were injured protesting against having to carry a pass (dompas) that identified them as third-class citizens in the land of their birth. Most of them were ordinary people, all of them asking only to be respected as equals.

Today, those 69 deaths and countless injuries serve as a grim reminder of the dark side of human nature and the very real, dire consequences of structural violence. The police brutality on that day was state-sanctioned. It could be perpetrated by individuals however who saw the people they were brutalising and killing not as people like themselves, but somehow as lesser entities. Not so long ago in the Rwandan genocide, similarly the other was described as "cockroaches" and therefore worthy of extermination. Stripped of their humanity, a former neighbour in Rwanda or fellow citizen at Sharpeville became a fair target for violence bred from fear.

Part of apartheid's success lay in the fact that for many years it successfully sold the idea that "separate but equal" was a viable option. And that many people believed it to be true. Equally that it used institutionalised and structured state-sanctioned and other violence to repress any disagreement. Violence is often the fall-back position of the fearful, and of those who - in O-Sensei's words - are out of synch with the Universe.

Today, nearly 5 decades later, the situation is different. We have a Constitution that recognises the inalienable right of each person's equality, dignity and freedom. We have the freedom to associate with whomsoever we wish, of free economic activity, of access to health and water and education. And yet in many ways the situation is very similar. While the politically-sanctioned state violence has disappeared, the structural inequalities that stem from a generation of treating people as less-than, are now fueled by a changed global economy that does not value skill-less people. So the unmet expectations are still there; as are the fears; as is the violence.

Our responsibility - as good citizens, as fellow human beings just - is to confront the violence in our own way. Not with more violence, but with understanding. And that understanding can only come if we open ourselves to meeting others and to discovering who they really are.

Our practice on the mat presents an ideal opportunity for us to engage with each other in a manner that is free of judgment. Whether our partner is tall or short, large or petite, young or old, a man or a woman, black or white makes little difference other than offering us the opportunity of discovering how best to engage with them so that our practice can improve.

"Ubuntu ngumtu ngabantu" - I am a person because of other people; or as John Donne (John Donne - For whom the Bell Tolls ) put it:

No man is an island entire of itself
Every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main...
Any man's death diminishes me
For I am involved in mankind.
And therefore never send to know for whom the bell tolls;
It tolls for thee.

So take this opportunity on the mat to get to know someone who in the ordinary course of your day you would not meet; improve your technique and ensure we have no Sharpevilles in our future.

See you on the tatami,

Ghalib

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On going before:

Riding in on the highway, perched on my little scooter as I zip my way to yoga practice. Feeling close to the still largely sleeping city, the early morning sea mist rolling lightly in from Table Bay tickling goosebumps everywhere, the slowly rising sun kissing the bald pate of the Lion's Head... Out in the gentle swell a few early rising surfers and kayakers are bobbing on the bosom of the sea as she breathes in and out in a timeless rhythm...

This idyllic setting, surrounded by the sounds of lapping waves and distant seagull calls, is very conducive to thinking... As is the medatitive quality of the surya namaskar, the salute to the sun.. As we flow from one pose to another, holding this one for a little longer, breathing just so in this other pose, my mind revisited my earlier angst about being an instructor and it struck me that having an instructor is very important.

We need someone, no matter how long we have been training, to point out the little nuances in the technique we had not thought about, or to push us beyond where we thought our boundaries lay, to affirm what we are doing well and to nudge us into discovering new things.. So while much of yoga practice is done solo (as different to aikido practice where a partner's help is essential), having someone to look you over with a watchful eye and a guiding hand is useful. I am eternally grateful to all the teachers & instructors - formal and informal - who have taken the time out to nudge me.

And that is a role I can definitely embrace....



I started this year with ruminations on training with a beginner's mind; I am starting to think that teaching with a beginner's mind - and with beginners in mind - is equally important..

See you on the tatami soon,

Ghalib

What a tumultous week this has been! Lots of Aikido to keep me busy with Sensei Guenter Heck from Berlin visiting there was the seminar this past weekend, a seniors' class last week and him leading the class at the dojo last night. And to top it all there was a grading of one of his students who has been training with us for the last year or so.

The experience itself was great; the enthusiasm on the face of people just starting out as they struggled (but not too much) to work out the movements was beautiful to see. The smiles on the faces of the seniors as we tried on new approaches to old situations was equally rewarding to behold. That we were able to cohabit the same class very comfortably and derive equal but different benefit is a testament to Sensei Heck's skill as a teacher and an instructor. And his clear and very precise instructions - and Aikido.

And that got me thinking about my own practice as a teacher, and what that means..

We address our instructors with the term "Sensei" in the sense of "teacher", but 'sensei' also has the meaning of "one who has gone before" or "one who has opened a way". So in the early days of our practice, the sensei plays the role of didactic teacher, instructing us in the technicalities of how to hold a grip or how to move off the line; later on s/he becomes one who has gone before, sharing his/her knowledge and experience for us to take on board, work with and ultimately integrate into our own practice or discard. Both phases require of us as students (for we remain students for as long as we practice) to respect the contribution of the instructor to our own growth. Aikido as a martial art and a training system requires the presence of a partner in practice. We cannot do it alone; we require other people (lots of them) to push us, throw us, confront us with ourselves and our limitations.

Being cast in the position of instructor, on the otehr hand, is quite a daunting one. I think it is a great responsibility to lay a proper foundation for this life-long learning endeavour. Helping students navigate their way throught the kyu grades is really about preparing them fo the real learning that starts at dan (or black belt) level. And for when they are no longer under your tutelage.

How well we do that is measured in the technical skill, the ability to learn and adapt and - above all - in the attitude toward life and those around them that they display.

I was reminded this week that Aikido must be practiced by considerate people, that it must be effective in its execution and that it must be elegant and beautiful in its execution. That is the goal of the training process.

And we should also realise that we do not hold all the answers - there is an obligation on us to be constantly refining our practice, both for our own benefit and for that of our students. It is all too easy to fall into the sweet trap of teaching that you stop learning. We need to balance sharing our own experience with ensuring our own development. We must realise that our true job is to enable learning and to facilitate growth. So when someone comes along who has gone before us - we should seize the opportunity - and encourage that thirst for learning in our students too.

I believe the true measure of a good teacher lies not in his/her grade - or in the number of letters behind their name. Rather, it lies in how well s/he can facilitate learning, growth and awareness. And whether s/he realises when to let go, so that the student can continue on their learning journey...

A tall order. One on which I often question whether I can truly deliver.

After 30 years of Aikido in South Africa, we have around 250 practising aikidoists in the country. At the Aikido World Games 10 times that number gathered in Germany. Elsewhere on this continent however, Aikido is unheard of. The challenges facing Aikido in a developing country such as ours are far different to those facing Aikido in a developed context. Economics, access to information and technology, social development, traditional and modern value systems all affect how people come into contact with Aikido and whether they stay.

I believe there is something of value in Aikido in our context at this juncture in our history, given where we come from and how we've managed to reconcile some our past national differences. New challenges await and each of us has a contribution to make. How we make it, and what we do will require some further reflection..

technorati tags:Aikido, Teaching, learning

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The only constant is change...

Wednesday 28/03/07 - This evening we trained at a special seniors' class in the mountains overlooking the Paarl mountains with visiting instructor, Sensei Guenter Heck from Berlin.
What a treat, and a breath of fresh air! Light and strong and precise. Being uke for him I felt positively elephantine in comparison. And I learnt lots!

But possibly the most important lesson I took from tonight's session is the need to adjust to changing circumstances. And to be ready to do so.

We practiced against yokomen-uchi (side strike), engaging by entering without clashing, then sliding off in a reverse triangle (in what Sensei Ken Cottier always described as a "sharpish movement"), before applying your chosen technique.

And it is in this "sharpish" reverse triangle that my lessson lay... Sometimes things are going along swimmingly, comfortably even, when out of nowhere you are thrown a curved ball, something unexpected. Life's funny that way.

Similarly, you could be training quite easily on the tatami, when suddenly you are paired up with an uke who attacks just that much stronger, or holds you in a grip that is that much tighter than you are used to.

You could just stand there and be overwhelmed - or you can adjust your posture and position, realign yourself and gain a new perspective. What I was reminded of on Wednesday night was that when one technique is blocked, from a different vantage point new openings will present themselves. What is required is a calm disposition, relaxing the body and freeing the mind to see the possibilities...
And like most things in life, this is easier said than done...

Things change in an instant - your company is taken over and you get posted overseas; you fall in love as your eyes meet across a crowded room; a taxi cuts in front of you as you are driving on a slippery road. In that moment it is almost too late to start thinking about relaxing and remaining calm.

Cultivating this ability to adjust, to take a fresh look at a current situation from a new perspective is critical. It requires constant practicing, reflection and adjustment. Constant training in tai sabaki (body movements) means that one is not overwhelmed because you have a set of coping skills to deal with the change.