The projection of Love

Last weekend I was at a Zen retreat where I witnessed a kind of induction ceremony for teachers in the tradition. This kicked off some questions for me and a couple of Zazen sessions later it sparked me to contemplate the purpose of our gradings in Aikido. So these musings are a simple sharing of a change of perspective that occurred in me during this silent retreat. 

The motivation
Driven by fear or driven by love?
In most schools of Aikido students start taking gradings from an early stage beginning with the white belt (Kyu) degrees and then progressing to the black belt (Dan) degrees. Each grading includes an exam where the teacher(s) test the student’s progress in technique, movement and attitude on the mat. It is after this exam that we do or don’t get promoted to the next grade. Given the way most of us have grown up this kind of set-up easily gets us into achievement mode or even into comparison with fellow students.

Source: buddhadoodles.tumblr.com via TheAttitudeOfGratitude.com on Pinterest

This achievement and comparison mode can be a big trap with quite detrimental consequences for individuals, groups and communities inside the Aikido world and outside of it. When I look more closely I find it is completely opposite to everything I have learned through Aikido, simply because - as the founder of the art said - “Aikido is based on the projection of love” and where personal achievement and comparison are the primary driver love is impossible.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not against personal achievement or against celebrating it. What I am saying is that as long as our "trying to get somewhere" is what drives us within we may be technically competent, yet we have missed something essential. On the mat uke is likely to feel that and off the mat it translates into tight and fearful relationships too. 

When I started my Aikido practice I was lucky to have a teacher whom I trusted deeply and I learned very early that Aikido training wasn’t about getting ahead. Gradings were more a matter of recognizing where the student was already and they never had a strong taste of personal achievement.

But if it’s not about measuring personal achievement, then what are these Aikido gradings about? And are they useful after all?

The Choice

Closed off or wide open?

In the silence of the retreat, gazing at the Zen garden between sessions of sitting meditation a new perspective occurred to me: What if receiving a grade was first and foremost a commitment to what is sometimes called “wearing your grade”? This is not about displaying how great you are; rather it means living your insight and wisdom as best you can every day – on and off the mat.

Personally I would like to focus more on this inner commitment as I take an exam, receive a grading certificate and continue to train. When I receive a grade I want my bow to be one of gratitude to all my teachers and one of re-commitment within myself.

As we continue on our Aikido journey there is also another element that comes into the practice. It is the element of sharing and helping others to grow and discover Aikido for and in themselves. I do not mean we should all make ourselves into teachers. Maybe it is most of all about paying attention to how we train with others, how we offer an attack, the way we place our shoes, the way we speak with each other. If we can do this with sincerity and openness I believe we are helping each other learn.

Source: buddhadoodles.tumblr.com via Sherri-Lynn on Pinterest

So then what about teaching? When should someone start to teach?

In my experience I cannot find an absolute answer to this and certainly not a particular grade. There simply may come the point where we are called upon to take up the role of a teacher – not just because we want to but because we have learned a lot and the students are there. When this happens I now see it as our responsibility to hear this call and to do it with all our heart. Sometimes we may not feel up to it on the day or maybe there is some inner doubt keeping us back (this has certainly tripped me up before) but we do it anyway. It’s a tricky one to know when to teach and how to teach because it requires a lot of awareness of our own motivations. It also needs the ability to see what is required of us in each moment and the courage to take along our vulnerability and do it anyway. 

 

Lastly, I now hope for the courage and presence to live by these insights more and more.

This quote from “The Art of Peace” by Morihei Ueshiba, founder of Aikido inspires me and helps me remember:

If you have not
Linked yourself
To true emptiness,
You will never understand
The Art of Peace.

The Path is exceedingly vast

This past week I came across an interesting piece written by a fellow aikidoist from this Southern tip of Africa. It is at once an emotive and emotional piece by one of the senior practitioners of the Art in South Africa. As Chief Instructor of the Aikido South Africa organisation, what he says carries a fair degree of weight, not least of all for the influence he holds over students affiliated to that organisation.

Dr Goliath is one of the most passionate aikidoists I know,  as well as one of the technically most accomplished I have had the privilege of training with over the past many years. And certainly his dedication and commitment to his training should serve to inspire new and old students alike.

Entitled "My Path with Fujimoto Shihan (8th dan) - The Establishment of Aikido South Africa (R) NPC" (Click here to download the document ), I was looking forward to reading about the impact that studying under Fujimoto Shihan for the past decade or so has had on him - both personally and in terms of the meaning of Aikido. Along the lines of that really insightful and entertaining read The Swordmaster's Apprentice by Edward Burke.

I was therefore saddened as I read the long, brave document: 'long' because it runs into 43 pages, 'brave' because lays bare the deep hurt and pain that has dogged his 19-year journey with Aikido. Instead of a homage to his teacher, I found a piece that was filled with frustration, hurt and anger fuelled by a quest for recognition and validation. A validation that he did not find within AFSA over the 15 years he was associated with that body, and that spurred him onto establish ASA. That would be fine, except for how that anger and hurt causes him to lash out in his writing in a hurtful, violent, disrespectful and, to my mind, un-Aikido manner. 

For that is the crux of my reflection: our training in Aikido precisely seeks to equip us with those responses that are non-violent, protect even our attacker and transform (not merely resolve or manage) those conflictual situations we find ourselves in. Our training is precisely to overcome the classic 'fight-or-flight' responses hotwired into our beings and to give us the option to flow with whatever experiences we have in the moment - and to choose the nonviolent solution. Nonviolence is not a passive acceptance of everything; rather it is a conscious choice to respond and relate to the situation/attacker in a way that does no harm whilst still respecting one's own integrity and whatever is going on for you. 

Intentionally crafting something that attacks another and intentionally causes pain without recognising our own motivations smacks of a lack of self-awareness and of the compassion that lies at the heart of aikido training.  I will not deal with the organisational and other misrepresentations - of which there are several - that I see in the piece - save to say that I acknowledge that those misrepresentations arise from a deep wound aggravated by his experiences within AFSA. 

Training in Aikido is an intensely personal affair; it is not a team sport. While one relies on one's partner to provide an honest attack and response, one's practice is about refining oneself - in relation to the attack. O Sensei famously stated that he was not able to be defeated, not because he was a formidable technical martial artist, but rather because he was in harmony with the universe - something his attacker was not. Ai-Ki-Do has at its centre the notion of Spirit (Ki); the art is not one merely of training the body towards technical competence. It is true that aikido practiced with spirit and no technical competence is ineffectual; aikido practiced with technical proficiency and no spirit is at best brutish and bereft of the transformative power that lies within the physical practice. 

It is interesting to reflect on these words also by O Sensei: 

"The appearance of an 'enemy' should be thought of as an opportunity to test the sincerity of one's mental and physical training, to see if one is actually responding according to the divine will.... Our enlightened ancestors developed true budo based on humanity, love and sincerity: its heart consists of sincere bravery, sincere wisdom, sincere love and sincere empathy. These four spiritual virtues should be incorporated in the single sword of diligent training; constantly forge the spirit and the body and let the brilliance of the transforming sword permeate your entire being". 

As on the mat when facing a committed shomen-uchi attack, in Life too when confronted with situations that are violent and aggressive, unfair, or downright rude, the practice is NEVER to respond in a like manner, beating the opponent to the punch because you are bigger, faster, more technically capable than him/her. This competitive spirit was anathema to O Sensei in his mind being relegated to the domain of sports. So on the mat we are not in competition with uke; uke presents us with an opportunity to examine our fear, anxiety even our exuberance in our response and to work on the obstacles inside us that prevent us from blending and flowing. This competitive spirit is equally out-of-place between teachers, between dojos or between associations. "My teacher is better than your teacher" is OK for a 1970s grainy martial arts movie; it has no place in the sincere practice of aikido today. Indeed we do ourselves the greatest disservice when we adopt such an attitude. 

"The Path is exceedingly vast", O Sensei said. "From ancient times to the present, even the greatest sages were unable to perceive and comprehend the entire truth; the explanations and teachings of masters and saints only express part of the whole". For this reason it is important to train with humility; and equally to teach with humility. Anyone who claims to have found the Way can be assured that s/he has not say the Taoists. No path is better or worse than another - all paths lead to the Tao/Do. What we choose is a path in our aikido practice that speaks to something deep inside us. And a teacher who expresses this. And we are extremely lucky when we find such a teacher who is able to help put us in touch with that core essence of aikido (or whatever the practice is in fact) - in other words are able to bring us in closer touch with our essential being, with our common humanity, with our oneness. A teacher is someone who helps strip away our arrogance, our delusions, our fears and anxieties to introduce us to that beautiful core of compassion within us all. This does not depend on rank or hierarchical standing; it has more to do with being rather than doing. 

And therein lies the immense responsibility for anyone who assumes the role of teacher (or Sensei).  Someone in that position - whether delegated or assumed - has the responsibility to do more than show good techniques; s/he has to embody the spirit of the principles of the practice in how they relate to others - and their students. 

We all are flawed; the Path is exceedingly vast. We therefore need to make way for each other along that Path. 

 

 

"So let us consider together, those of us who can communicate, whether it is at all possible totally to end every form of violence  in ourselves and still live in this monstously brutal world. I think it is possible. I don't want to have a breath of hate, jealousy, anxiety or fear in me. I want to live completely at peace. Which does not mean that I want to die. I want to live on this marvellous earth, so full, so rich, so beautiful. I want to look at the trees, flowers, rivers, meadows, women, boys and girls, and at the same time live completely at peace with myself and the world. What can I do?
If we know how to look at violence, not only outwardly in society - the wars, the riots, the national antagonisms and class conflicts - but also in ourselves, then perhaps we shall be able to go beyond it."  - KRISHNAMURTI