Saturday, July 21, 2012

On the mystery of Aikido

This week a bunch of us went for drinks after an Aikido class. In a stream of animated conversation someone said:

“The longer you practice the bigger the mystery of Aikido becomes.”



The comment stuck with me. In my own experience this somehow seemed true and I became curious about it.

When I started Aikido almost 13 years ago I noticed there was something it did to me. I found I had more energy, I interacted differently with others, was more alive after class and more quiet inside. There was a mystery to it.

Over time different elements of this mystery came into the spotlight and I learned about them through the training. For example it was an exercise in not trying so hard but just doing. An element of trust started growing. Then there was the practice of blending, receiving, and softening - a practice of acceptance and an experience of Unity and Love. At other times we paid special attention to the body placement, the distance, the relation to the attacker and the space around. I learned something about expansiveness, about spaciousness and freedom.

These are only some examples and different teachers have emphasised different aspects for me. However, first and foremost whatever I needed to learn seemed to present itself – whether I liked it or not. Sometimes it could be about a mirror-like stillness and clarity, about lightness or groundedness, about strength, clear cutting clarity or even about vulnerability.

So with practice the insight into different aspects deepens. We understand techniques a little more deeply and experience the subtleties a little more clearly. Yet, I remain with the sense of a bigger mystery.

How come this is the case? What is that I call a mystery?

Maybe what we experience as a growing mystery is in fact a deeper understanding of the essence of Aikido.
The word Aikido is often translated as “The Way of Harmony of the Spirit”.

So Aikido is a way – a path. A path holds in it the energy of movement; not appoint or a goal but a dynamic, changing quality.

Harmony to me has an element of surrender and letting go. To be in Harmony we must stop interfering and imposing our will. Instead, we listen and follow.

Listen and follow what? 
Listen to the Spirit.

But what is the Spirit?

This is where the mystery comes in. In my experience the growing sense of mystery does not mean a growing confusion but rather a more intimate sense of the deeper nature of that Spirit. It is a clearer sense that the essence of that Spirit is actually indeterminable. It cannot be grasped in words and images. In Zen we refer to this indeterminacy as emptiness. It means you cannot say it exists or it doesn’t exist, it moves or it doesn’t move and you cannot even say it neither moves nor it doesn’t move. This is a subtle and deep way of pointing to the core of the mystery.

So when we say the mystery of Aikido deepens we could also say we are simply becoming more intimate with this Spirit that cannot be known. We know that it cannot be known.

Aikido also adds another dimension from here: It is dynamic and its movements are infinite. It is a physical expression that shows us the infinite possibilities in which the Spirit can express itself when we become open enough to listen and follow. It may be a soft, gentle touch, a vast movement, a strong and clear cutting entry or a small blending turn.

So maybe, as we practice we become more and more comfortable and intimate with moving from and with that Spirit which cannot be pinpointed. The more this happens the more we are able to intuitively make the right movement. In fact we are not really making that movement, it just happens. It’s that sense of just moving without thinking yet being completely present and engaged.

So what value does all of this have in our life?


Firstly let me say that my personal approach to Aikido practice is not concerned with a particular goal. I practice and teach because I feel a resonance in my heart.

Of course Aikido can be used in many different ways to gain insight into our human experience and to learn new ways of working with that. For example Aikido can teach us about ways in which we relate in conflict. It can give us new perspectives on our ways of communicating and listening. It can give us insight into our emotional and psychological patterns and much more. These are precious lessons, yet to use Aikido only as a tool n this way would mean limiting the potential that Aikido itself has to offer if we are totally open to it.
Having said this, I have also found that practicing Aikido has a profound impact on our lives outside of the dojo. This journey is always a personal one. In my own path it has been about trying less and trusting more, about relaxing and letting go. It has grown my capacity to stay present and relaxed even when it is uncomfortable and to move more freely and openly through life. It has taught me about taking space and giving freely and much more.

So the growth is personal and yet it has a profound reach. I experience this in my own life and have seen it many times through fellow students. As we grow in Aikido and in ourselves our ways of being in our personal relationships, at work, in our communities and our environment changes; not because we want it to but because we are closer to our Essence - the Spirit - and our actions become a spontaneous expression of this touching each and every space we enter.