Aikido in Daily Life

New Year's Resolutions

2010-12-31T16:22:00.002+02:00

Today is the last day of 2010 and so the madness and the mayhem, the jubilation and the joy, the anger and the anguish, the sense and the senselessness, the fears and the foolishness, the highs and the high-fives of the year are officially behind us. And we can breathe a sigh of relief and wonder and turn the corner to face the unknown road that lies ahead of us in 2011.

It is also traditionally the time to make New Year’s Resolutions – a commitment to do more of, to do differently, to know more and deeper and to be the change we want to see in the world – even if it is only in the immediate world we inhabit. It is the time we make our intentions for the coming year.

So in respect of our aikido training, here are some thoughts for the new year:

· Two elements will deepen our practice: intent and intensity. On the mat, train as if your life depends on it; off the mat your life does depend on it. As a martial art, you need to train as if you intend to use your aikido someday to protect your life, or the life of a loved one. Do NOT train as if your life is currently threatened, but train as if it may someday be. Take your training seriously and with proper intent and intensity for practical real-world application.
· As a spiritual discipline, you need to train as if your spiritual life depends on it. No matter what your partner does, you must uphold your own level of ethics and behaviour. One’s spiritual / personal development depends on sticking strictly to one’s work and progress. No-one can do it FOR anyone else. We can help our training partners, but we cannot do it for them.
· We also need to train with intense intent. Intensity follows intent. If your intent is to spend some time socialising with your training partners, your training intensity will be minimal. If on the other hand, you intend to be able to apply your aikido either to defend yourself or to improve yourself, your seriousness and intensity will be higher.
· Train consistently and persistently. Progress doesn’t just come; any skill needs consistent attendance and persistent practice to deepen.
· O-Sensei also wanted us to train joyously and in a celebratory manner fully aware of the serious (and dangerous) martial art aikido is.
· Train slowly and consciously. This means paying attention to the little details. The best way to progress quickly, is to progress slowly. Pay attention to the little things – inside and around you – and you will be able to make big changes.

Here's looking forward to training with you in 2011!!!

See you on the tatami

On Courage

2010-12-31T16:10:00.003+02:00

I found a samurai in a rather unusual place... Reading a collection of writings and speeches by the late Steve Biko, I write what I like, I came across a piece that struck a chord with me....

A few months before his incarceration and eventual death in detention at age 30, Bantu Steve Biko was interviewed by an American businessman.

You are either alive or proud or you are dead, and when you are dead, you can’t care anyway. And your method of death can itself be a politicising thing. So you die in the riots. For a hell of a lot of them, in fact, there’s really nothing to lose – almost literally, given the kind of situations that they come from. So if you can overcome the personal fear for death, which is a highly irrational thing, you know, then you’re on the way.

And in interrogation the same sort of thing applies. I was talking to this policeman, and I told him, “If you want us to make any progress, the best thing is for us to talk. Don’t try any form of rough stuff, because it just won’t work.” And this is absolutely true also. For I just couldn’t see what they could do to me which would make me all of a sudden soften to them. If they talk to me, well I’m bound to be affected by them as human beings. But the moment they adopt rough stuff, they are imprinting in my mind that they are police. And I only understand one form of dealing with police, and that is to be as unhelpful as possible. So I button up. And I told them this: “It’s up to you.” We had a boxing match the first day I was arrested. Some guy tried to clout me with a club. I went into him like a bull. I think he was under instructions to take it so far and no further, and using open hands so that he doesn’t leave any marks on the face. And of course he said exactly what you were saying just now: “I will kill you”. He meant to intimidate. And my answer was: “How long is it going to take you?” Now of course they were observing my reaction. And they could see that I was completely unbothered. If they beat me up, it’s to my advantage. I can use it. They just killed somebody in jail – a friend of mine – about ten days before I was arrested. Now it would have been bloody useful evidence for them to assault me. At least it would indicate what kinds of possibilities were there, leading to this guy’s death.

So I wanted them to go ahead and do what they could do, so that I could use it. I wasn’t really afraid that their violence might lead me to make revelations I didn’t want to make, because I had nothing to reveal on this particular issue. I was operating from a very good position, and they were in a very weak position. My attitude is, I am not going to allow them to carry out their programme faithfully. If they want to beat me five times, they can only do so on condition that I allow them to beat me five times. If I react sharply, equally and oppositely to the first klap, they are not going to be able to systematically count the next four klaps, you see. It’s a fight. So if they had meant to give me so much of a beating, and not more, my idea is to make them go beyond what they wanted to give me and to give back as much as I can give so that it becomes an uncontrollable thing. You see the one problem the guy had with me: he couldn’t really fight with me because it meant he must hit back, like a man. But he was given instructions you see, on how to hit, and now these instructions were no longer applying because it was a fight. So he had to withdraw and get more instructions. So I said to them, “Listen, if you guys want to do this your way, you have got to handcuff me and bind my feet together, so that I can’t respond. If you allow me to respond I’m certainly going to respond. And I’m afraid you may have to kill me in the process even if it is not your intention”.

The interview with Steve Biko conjured up many thoughts for me, as I hope it will for you. Maybe it will help you think about your own courage as it did me. How many of us are willing to suffer –as he did – for what we believe in? How many of us “activists” are still prepared to do so; those of us who regale others who were not there with stories - many of them becoming embellished in the retelling- how many of us persist today, continue to stand up in the face of injustice and without fear or favour are able to speak unpalatable truth to overweaning power. How many of those who call ourselves “activists” or not are able to do that – especially with our friends. It is often a battle that is harder to do than with our enemies.

How many of us are in fact willing to sit with ourselves in integrity and speak unpalatable truth to power to ourselves when we utilise our power to wrong another?

Recently I had the misfortune to see, hear and feel the pain as a colleague who does amazing facilitation work had to confront the disjuncture between what he says and what he does. And face the prospect of the complete destruction of a meaningful relationship. I saw the physical and emotional torment the situation caused him. I know that well; I too have visited that place. In the end, he lost the battle within himself, choosing instead to retreat behind carefully crafted internal walls where no other person can touch him – and there in his solitude, far away from anyone else, he felt in (false) control.

Being a warrior is hard. More than fighting, it is also about being willing to die – and for death not to matter. Knowing what you stand for means you don’t fall for everything.

Our training on the tatami offers us the space for that kind of preparation. At a technical level, practice in irimi (entering with the body) in the face of an attack helps to clear away the impurities that stick like barnacles to our technique. At another level, training with full awareness and consciousness – even on the days we would rather not – helps to clarify for us our purpose and how we live that our in relation to others.

As we refine what it is we stand for, the challenge becomes to implement that in all aspects of our lives – how we work, how we play, how we relate to others, how we love. At that point the artificial distinctions cease because there is no difference between me the brother, son, colleague, facilitator, writer, teacher, seeker after insight, lover or friend. When those carefully crafted yet artificial distinctions we cherish inside us fall away, the true warrior, samurai (one who is in service [to humanity]) can step forward. That is perhaps Takemusu aiki – aikido (the spirit of harmony) without form.

While Steve Bantu Biko paid the ultimate price at the tender age of 30, each of us has the space to grapple with those self-same issues in less terminal circumstances. Thanks to the sacrifice of people like him.

Courage is the power to let go of the familiar... To step out from our comfort zones and to know and show what we stand for.

See you on the tatami...

On creating connection

2010-12-28T17:44:00.009+02:00

Remember, you cannot hold bliss

in your fist;
You can hold bliss only in your open hand – OSHO

Much of the training this year has been about bringing softness to the hard edges in my technique…. Whereas last year the focus became about facing my fears and nurturing the ability to stand up, in the face of an attack (sometimes even on my integrity) without aggression, this year - 2010 – was about finding the softness within and without. And while last year was focused on body movements (tai no henko) and especially on practicing kaiten and irimi, this year the focus shifted to creating musubi or connection with your training partner (uke).

We create musubi in many ways:

When we start our training, the connection starts when uke grabs our hand or our shoulder. Here the focus is on the proper body placement in relation to uke.

Later it progresses to connecting when uke starts his or her shomen (overhead) or yokomen (lateral) strike or launches a tsuki (punch). This is a slightly higher level of training because it doesn’t rely on a physical touch but rather connected to uke in the moment the attack becomes expressed. The downside of this stage of practice, is that it can still remain reactive training, dependant on getting the timing right. Move too late and the strike connects. Move too early and uke has the opportunity to realign and to change the attack – and again the strike connects. At this level of training it is important to be at the right place at the right time.

The most difficult stage ( or rather the most challenging one) is yet to come… In this stage, one connects with uke’s intention – as expressed in many miniscule body movements (shifts in posture, state of the eyes, change in breathing even or a readying of the shoulders). This is the stage of sen-no-sen, of connection with uke as a human being, with his or her spirit and the moment of the possibility of transformation.

Not surprisingly, this stage requires us to still the noise within, to find the still-point that TS Eliot speaks of, where the dance is. The relaxed power to move, to truly connect and to flow can only come when we have let go of the fears, faced the doubts and when we choose to step forward and engage notwithstanding – into the uncertainty of what will happen in the next moment. It happens when we choose to reach out to the other person.

Over and over in my mind plays a throw-away comment many years ago by the late Shihan Ken Cottier that the essence of kokyu-nage (breath power throw), indeed the essence of Aikido lies in these three elements – body placement, timing and kokyu-rokyu (relaxed breathing).

This past year I have often struggled to get these three elements just right both on and off the mat; I have often found myself in opposition to uke, clashing (sometimes only subtly) with his/her attack or running into uke’s power. Always, and without exception, that has been because I have been in just the wrong position relative to the attack. Many times I have berated uke (in my mind) for an improper attack – yet, honestly, it is only my placement that is at issue. The attack is the attack. I was “killed” five times in demonstration in December for every time being in the wrong place along the arc of the bokken’s cut.

At other times, my timing’s been off. With practice, thankfully it has improved over the years. Yet as uke for Kubota Shihan, I was reminded that there was a tardiness in my attack and response. And while that may be hidden in my ordinary practice, when a 7^th dan holds up a mirror to you, those imperfections and areas of improvement are highlighted. And so I have to wonder also whether off the mat, how many opportunities that slight hesitation has lost me? So next year I will train more consciously exploring where the caution, where the hesitation lies….

And still the relaxation – and the power that comes from truly being relaxed – eludes me. Not always, mind you. And I am more aware now where and when it is absent. But still here too there is room for improvement.

And so, as I write these reflections perhaps the challenge in making a real connection starts to reveal itself:

Much of it lies in what I do (or say), how I place myself in relation to the other person. Do I assume a cold, dispassionate distance, do I open myself up completely (also to the possibility of being disappointed or hurt), do I subordinate myself completely enduring the strikes believing resolutely that there is no gain without pain? How do I blend with the other person, without giving up the essence of who I am, without losing myself in the process?

Nonetheless, one third of connecting with someone else is just turning up, being present; without being around there can be no connection. So it all begins with taking the decision to be there. And with that decision to be there, to relate, it is important to then be there fully to allow for the possibility of the connection.

Timing too is crucial. How much is too much, or too little, or too late? In moving, do we move together or to a different beat? Am I truly present or stuck in a distant and fading past or lost in the fluffy promise of a fuzzy future?

And lastly, the challenge of truly connecting to another human being lies in being relaxed, relaxed enough to be myself… What stops us from that state? What fears drive us to hide (parts of) ourselves, to clothe ourselves sometimes in garments of civility and friendship even without ever revealing ourselves to allow true intimacy?

And of course we choose how to connect.

Sometimes we get it right; sometimes we don’t and invariably then we get hurt – or worse still hurt the other person. In this practice called Life the only real mistake is to continue to make the same ones over and over.

So here’s to deepening our awareness, deepening our musubi, our connectedness to one another… And opening up to being transformed by the connection.

See you on the tatami in the New Year!

What is Aikido and What Does Training Mean to Us?

2010-08-30T13:52:00.004+02:00

On August 29, 2010, Seiichi Sugano Shihan (8th dan) passed on. He was one of O-Sensei's live-in students (uchi-deshi). Known for his vibrant Aikido, he continued to train and teach even after 2003 saw him undergo an amputation below his left knee. Until the last, he continued to refine his aikido, challenging his students across the world to refine theirs too.

Below is an article Sugano Shihan wrote about what Aikido meant to him...

Progress

When it comes to progress, I think we may have to ask how progress relates to Aikido. In a sense consciousness to achieve or to progress is the essence of sports. In the world of sports, one is considered to have achieved his or her goal when that person becomes a champion.

However, Aikido exists outside such a frame of progress. There is no clear attainment point in Aikido no matter how many years one practices. In other martial arts, the results of practice are clear by the number of

people one threw in a lesson. Aikido has no such clear results. One must meet the demands of self learning. It can be hard to continue Aikido unless one has a desire to constantly learn.

The teaching method, too, is an important subject. In the case of sports, there are matches, so there is a clear result. Since one’s progress is apparent, the teaching method has always been studied and evaluated. Meanwhile, in Aikido, the basic teaching method whereby students [observe and copy] the throws and techniques shown by their teacher and then repeat them has not changed from old days too much.

It is important that the teacher tries to make the training meaningful for the students, and it should be done with an intention to help the students develop their ability. No development or the progress will be made only by showing one's strength and preeminence.

Progress also depends on how the students would like to practice. One might simply enjoy training as recreation. For those people who would like to train seriously, it will be more interesting and helpful for the development of their abilities if they have the right kind of teaching and opportunities.

In Belgium, I teach classes called “inner school” in response to the solicitation of students’ desire to learn further. I initially limited the classes to only forty students with black belts. I call it a school program, rather than a seminar. It takes place in a training camp form. There also was a request in the Netherlands, so I started the school over there, too.

Even though there are only few of these schools, there are people who wish to attend programs like this with great interest. I believe that more places and more opportunities should be given to such people.

Kata

It is generally said that Aikido is a practice of Kata (forms). However, Aikido practice does not include “Kata”, but a “repetition of the skills” or “repetition of the movement” to be exact. One tends to have a fixed image regarding term “Kata”. If people with some knowledge of the martial arts hear “Kata”, they would most likely have an image of something fixed. It is important to carefully choose the terms we use because people tend to anchor a certain image.

In the case of Aikido, if one is doing the same Iriminage, one is not repeating the same thing.

Subconsciously, the throw changes depending on the partner. As for the practice of Kata, one must concentrate on it and think about it while practicing precisely as possible. The nature of such practice cannot vary depending on one’s physical or emotional conditions. Aikido practice, on the other hand, can be done more freely as it does not have fixed forms which have to be done precisely.

I think the fact one can train freely is a positive benefit of Aikido practice. Nonetheless, one must make sure that the practice does not end up impulsive and inconstant.

Now, there are many terms used in Aikido that are brought from different martial arts other than Kata. For example, “Ukemi” comes from judo. [But] Aikido ukemi is about following the movement of the nage and is different from that of judo.

Another example is “Suburi” which is a movement of swinging a bokken. The term comes from kendo. It is difficult to express the exact meaning of the term if the term is adopted from another context. Therefore other knowledge is necessary to display one's experience. Without knowledge, a term is apt to have nothing solid but only mood and feeling.

Levels of Understanding

In Aikido, one learns by experiencing through the body. This alone would only result into physical experience, even after ten years of practice. If one continues practicing for many years, of course, the body becomes strong. However, the level of understanding can still be doubtful.

Everything is learned physically as a result of experience, but to display what has been learned, some verbal expression and other methods become necessary. Hence, one should find opportunities and try to learn various things outside of Aikido.

O-Sensei realized it in the Omoto religion. I don’t think one could fully understand the discipline of Aikido without something like that. Learning by the physical experiences certainly is important, but I think it is also important to experience something new besides Aikido to stimulate one's thought and brain.

It is necessary to study basics things without being disturbed by one’s own mood and …feelings. The lesson method of Aikido is left to the decision of each instructor, and this is a good thing about Aikido. If strictly codified, the independence which is the merit of Aikido is lost.

Of course, balance is important, but I think it is better that one has a good level of skills, specifically posture, the sense of maai, directionality, the principle of the sword line, gaze and so on. It is often seen in enbu (martial art performance) that people just stand straight before a partner waiting for the attack. This is because there is no awareness of the sword line at all.

O-Sensei frequently talked about gravitation training. Gravitation training is for learning how to lead and go together with the partner’s movement. One can learn this using katatetori.

Such basics can be learned through body movements. In other words, the principle of Aikido skills will be understood through the apprehension of body movements. Small details of each technique are different, depending on the individuals, but there is always a sense of maai and directionality in any technique. Therefore, as long as there is an understanding of the principle of the skills, it can be applied to all movements.

That understanding is indispensable to progress to a further stage.

Aikido starts from the attack.

Aikido, in a technical sense, is an attack. One does not wait for the partner’s attack before doing a technique. One initiates it from oneself. For instance, the instructor holds out a hand when teaching katatetori. I don't stand still in front of a partner and wait for my hand to be grabbed. Instead, I hold out a hand and “let the student take it.” I am showing how to set it like that first. However, it is not generally explained that the nage is the one who shortens the maai to set up the situation to do the technique.

In the beginning, Aikido is taught in the way of self-defense techniques to help students understand it more easily. Nage reacts to the attack. If it remains at this stage, it would become a habit that one never starts moving unless being attacked.

To overcome this habit, it is necessary to know that nage should be the one who sets out first to do the techniques. Only then the depth of your understanding towards the techniques will change, even if one seems to be doing the same techniques.

Strike a Woman, Strike a Rock

2010-08-09T15:24:00.002+02:00

August 9 is National Women's Day in South Africa. It is a day to celebrate the contribution to the struggle against apartheid made by many selfless women both in South Africa and in exile. It is also a day to remember the current struggle of women in this country to be accepted as equal to their male counterparts.

On the tatami, men and women train together. In aikido we are constantly reminded to consider the capacity of our partner – regardless of whether they are male or female. Our practice is really learning to accept uke for what he or she brings to the technique. We block our own learning when we train differently depending on whether uke is a man or a woman, and make assumptions about their capacity based on our own firmly held stereotypes and projections.

Valerie A Pinto, a Yoshukai karate teacher talks of how she, as a woman "coming up though the ranks as the only woman in our school, I had to work twice as hard as the men to be accepted by them. To actually earn their respect was even harder. I didn't have the power and strength most of them had, so I depended more on speed, agility and striking with precision. "

After years of training women survivors of rape and assault self-defence (a combination of karate, aikido and hapkido) she is still amazed by the reaction of her women students who say "you are not what I expected....". She maintains that "First I am a woman; as a very close second I am a martial artist.... I feel as women we need to be proud of who and what we are, and to let other women know that we are not different or special and that they can join us and, as women, help us share the power...."

Finally, a poem by Valerie Pinto, inspired by her students:

Are we Women
frail and afraid
protected from this cruel world
by the men we love

What happens to us
when the love is gone
when our father dies, our brother rapes us
our lover would rather hit than hug
who will protect us now?

We are Women
in our women's bodies
never educated in the aggressive and physical
world of men

But we are not frail
we are not weak
we have a great inner spirit
and we will not be afraid

If we learn to use our strengths
against the weaknesses of our oppressors
as David slew Goliath
we can change the balance of power
internally and in the world around us

We must become one
with our body, mind and spirit
We must learn to defend ourselves
and love ourselves

We're our only protection
against this angry world
and as sisters we must spread
the word and skills
we must spread the power

We walk together or alone
aware and unafraid

--Valerie A Pinto

(taken from "The Joy of Sharing the Power" by Valerie A Pinto in Martial Arts Teachers on Teaching by Carol A Wiley)

A Hidden Jewel

2010-06-23T11:44:00.002+02:00

Each friend represents a world in us,
a world possibly not born until they arrive, and
it is only by this meeting that a new world is born

Anais Nin

The people who cross our paths, and especially those who linger for a while, touch our lives and help us see possibilities within ourselves to which we would otherwise be blind. They challenge us to be more than we think we can be. Sometimes they do so by pushing buttons that evoke a painful or angry response; other times they illuminate the spark of kindness, of goodness, of love that burns inside all of us. The wealthy driver of that big 4x4 from the leafy suburbs helps us confront our envy; the grubby homeless person offers us an opportunity to demonstrate our compassion and kindness. All of the people we meet have something to share with us – our friends have much to teach us; our enemies even more. How often do we not feel that the person to whom we are attracted fulfils us, makes us complete – that speaks to a quality that we feel is missing inside us. Very often it is the people with whom we differ, or argue, or dislike that have the most to teach us for oftentimes they hold up a mirror to us about those things within us we dislike or despise. So every person that crosses our path, is there for a reason. He or she touches our life and in how we relate to him/her helps to reveal us to ourselves.

So too on the tatami. In the training hall, you will come across many different people. Your partner is an individual who may share some similarities with you but who nonetheless has a different background to you, different physical abilities and even a different motivation for doing aikido. Some will be tall, others short; some will be strong and muscular, others frail or waif-like. For many reasons we may prefer to work with some people – often that is because we feel we know how they will move, so that the movement is "nice" and smooth. We may avoid others because they are "too rough" or "too stiff".

Every uke is precious. Every uke has something to show you about your technique. It is up to you to look for it. Does this uke jump beautifully into a perfect ukemi before you have executed the technique? Well then perhaps there's something to adjust in your timing or your telegraphing to him/her what you are about to do. Do you find that this uke is able to lock out against your technique? Rather than blaming uke for the technique not working, ask instead whether there is something in how you are executing the technique that allows that blocking to occur: Have you interrupted the flow of the technique? Are you too square when the movement is circular? Have you led uke into a place where his/her weight is bearing down on you and you cannot move?

And the main lesson to be learned from that interaction is "How do I choose to respond?" Do I give in to my frustration that my attempts at technique are failing and react with violence? Do I shout at uke for resisting when he should be flowing? Or do I feel where I need to soften, inside me, soften enough to flow around the obstacle and in doing so free myself of what is holding me back. On the physical level that may be uke, inside me it could be my need to prove myself, or my inability to listen to what the other person is telling me.

Every uke is a precious gift, because he or she has willingly come to you to help you refine your technique, and yourself.

Honour that gift in return by being a good uke to them.

See you on the tatami soon,

SenseiGG

Openness

2008-11-07T08:40:00.002+02:00

Hiding one whole self from
another whole self encumbers
full meeting. It is difficult enough for
naked bodies to meet wholly.
When two selves are clothes in
pretense, they cannot come together;
there is separateness in their
togetherness, not togetherness in
their separateness.

- Ray Grigg -

Opening up to possibilities

2008-11-07T01:46:00.002+02:00

One of the hardest things to do is to open up in the face of an attack. It feels counter-intutitive. All of one's defensive mechanisms scream in protest at the impending doom. And yet that is often what aikido demands of one - to step into the space before that attack is complete, to face it and to work with it.
Doing so requires that you open yourself to the possibility of being hit, of being hurt. And therein lies the difficulty. None of us wants to be hurt.

And so often, as the one leading the class I have demonstrated how to execute ikkyo against shomen-uchi, how to enter directly under the attack, how to lead it upwards in a spiral so as not to clash.. And over and over I have exhorted students to open up, to enter fully with the body (the true meaning of irimi)...
But recently I realised that in order to open up there has to be a willingness to open up; that the hard work lay in the moment before the opening up. The challenge is not so much in executing the technique, but in the moment before - within ourselves.

The difficulty with holding back, of not engaging fully is precisely that - you do not engage fully. Very often I see students' posture shift completely as they over-extend their arms while retracting their centre in an instinctively defensive mechanism. So too in life when we fail to open up, we fail to engage fully - and we rob both ourselves and the other person of the full benefit and beauty of that engagement.

So next time on the mat, become mindful of the quality and nature of your interaction with uke and check that you are in fact fully present. And in your day-to-day dealings with people, explore what it feels like to open up - and the depth and quality that brings to your engagements and your relationships.

See you on the tatami soon....

Training with Joy....

2008-11-02T20:34:00.003+02:00

For a while now I have had a gnawing feeling that something's been missing from our practice - or to be more precise, from my own practice.

And it struck me that perhaps over the last little while the lightness has not been there. O-Sensei exhorted us to train with Joy; one's aikido practice should be an en-lightening experience.

This last while has been stressful, filled with aggravation and even aggression. And filled with human suffering. And in the midst of all that, it was easy to forget the good in life, the fundamental goodness of all human beings that O-Sensei often spoke of; the Universal Love that is at the heart of aikido - and should be present in our practice.

In our daily lives, beset as we are by work pressures, exams & deadlines, relationship woes or other challenges, we often close ourselves down, reducing our focus to the immediate problems. In focusing that narrowly though, often our whole experience becomes reduced to that issue.
Similarly on the tatami, we focus on the attack, ready ourselves for our response - and get drawn to the fist or strike or get locked in the grip - often anticipating the attack before it is formed.

And unsurprisingly, we find ourselves stuck, or blocked - or worse.

The challenge is to find the lightness, the joy in the movement, the ease that comes from the point of stillness at the centre of our being, rather than the dis-ease that comes when life threatens to overwhelm us.

Our internal state does and will influence our external practice. By the same token though, our external practice can and should serve to shift our internal state. Forcing it though does not help. Focusing so hard that you frustrate yourself is not the answer.
The challenge is to relax into the movement, to reach out to your partner, to be grateful for the opportunity to learn that is being presented - especially to learn about yourself, and the joy that burns within.

So here's looking forward to taking up our practice again - with a smile on our face - that comes from deep within.....

See you on the tatami soon

Some Thoughts on Grading Examinations

2008-05-21T08:42:00.003+02:00

From Shihan Ken Cottier (7th Dan)

I have been surprised on a number of occasions by just how badly some students take a failure. On the other hand I have been happy with the mature way in which some have reacted to a disappointment. (I should point out that I have never given a grading in Britain and am referring to my experience in Hong Kong.) I remember that there was one fellow I failed and I actually expected that he would give up Aikido when I informed him. On the contrary, he responded with a smile as though saying "Not to worry: there's always the next time".

Some may feel that they have been treated unfairly in that they have held their present grade much longer than some who have advanced to the next one. But have they been practising, say, just twice a month as distinct from, say, two or three times a week as in the case of those who have moved ahead of them? Another important factor to consider is what level of instruction is one receiving. In other words, some may be under the watchful eye of a senior yudansha, whereas others receive their instruction from perhaps a 2nd or 1st kyu. Some, too, use class time more constructively than others and may even practise at home.

Once, on failing a lady, I asked her how she felt she had done. Since I felt she had not been even near the borderline I did not expect her answer "very well". So what does this tell us? Well, to me, that the examiner sees a lot more than the examinee.

Let's advance on this. Student 'A' makes a number of mistakes in the techniques but get everything else (distance, timing, coordination, manner, etc.) right. Student 'B', on the other hand, makes no mistakes in the techniques but gets everything else wrong. If we observe a 3rd kyu, shodan, sandan and rokyudan executing shiho-nage, although basically they are all doing the same thing, there are differences between them.

Then there are those who almost demand to be graded in spite of having reached a stage where they do not seem to be able to progress any further for reasons such as past injuries, age, attendance or attitude. In the case of such people I sometimes wonder why in practising with people of the same grade or of lower grades, they cannot evaluate themselves. Then there is the opposite of this when students of a certain grade refuse to go further. In the days when I practised Judo there was one fellow I remember who stopped taking grades at 1st kyu although he probably reached nidan level. He used to delight in flinging dan grades around!

In awarding grades I do take into consideration age, in that I do not expect a 58 year old student to perform in the same way as a 20 year old. As for yudansha I look for a lot more than technique as I feel that a hakama in the wrong hands, so to speak, can do a lot of damage to Aikido, especially in areas where a shodan grade is quite significant.

Some years ago we had in Hong Kong a very good, very big, very strong student whom everyone enjoyed practising with. In other words, nobody was afraid of him. To me this said a lot when I came to grade him shodan. In Hong Kong all those wishing to try for shodan must first discuss it with a senior grade (we have 5 yondan) - usually the one who has most influenced them.

Hong Kong is often referred to as the crossroads of Asia, it being the stopping-off point to Japan, Taiwan, China, Thailand, the Philippines, etc. On visiting the dojo I have often found that we had a visitor from abroad. Over the years some that sported hakama in my opinion were not of dan grade standard. Nevertheless I have always welcomed them and not made them feel uncomfortable. After all, it is those who awarded such grades who should be accountable. I constantly tell our students that if they visit another country and are below par, it is me that it reflects on.

In conclusion let me say 'do not worry about grades unduly: they will come with the years'. Some of you may feel - as once I did - that you will never wear a hakama. But excluding accidents or other unforeseen circumstances, you will.

(First Published in the British Aikido Federation Newsletter, December 2002, No.43 - All Rights Reserved)

26 April 2008

2008-04-27T09:30:00.003+02:00

26 April 1969, the Founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, passed on from this life. Acknowledged as one of the greatest martial artists of his time, O-Sensei is often likened to Miyamoto Musashi in terms of his influence over the development of Japanese martial arts in general.
Much has been written about this man who was born in the late 19th century and did much to modernise the Japanese warrior code and to bring it into the 2oth and now the 21st century.
Stories abound about his prowess as a martial artist: Rinjiro Shirata Shihan, one of his uchi-deshi, described his amazing power:

Although his hand was tiny, half the size of my own, his grip was crushing; it was impossible to move when he held your arm and even when he pinned you with one finger there would be a bruise on the spot for days. I could never comprehend how he threw us - all of a sudden you were flying through the air, almost floating on a cloud. You rarely felt knocked down. On the other hand, whenever he pinned you, it was like receiving an electric shock, the pain was so intense.

Many stories also abound of judo & kendo practitioners, sumo wrestlers and brawlers who in the late 1930s came to test the prowess of O-Sensei. In spite of being warned that there is no fighting in Aikido "because shiai (contest) really means shiai (mutual killing), not one of those who persisted was able to boast of having beaten the non-fighter. "Who can resist the power of non-resistance?" asked O-Sensei one day.
And it is really this legacy that lives on today, nearly four decades after his death. The idea that Love can conquer the fiercest attack, that "true budo is to nourish life and foster peace, love and respect". Fighting then is not about physical strength, but rather strength of character.

And for me living in South Africa at this juncture in its history, this is a message that is important. This weekend is also the celebration as a country of throwing off the first shackles of an entrenched discriminatory system. Sunday, 27 April, was the celebration of Freedom Day. And 14 years on the shine seems to have dulled a little bit. There just seems to be a greater degree of intolerance, violence at all levels seems just a little bit more visible, the disparities a little more poignant. It is in the face of these factors that Aikido, and its underlying philosophy of the universality of the human condition and of harmony with the universe, not competition against it, teaches us to embrace creatively the challenges of living in a multi-cultural, highly stratified and diverse society.

Freedom meant the freedom to discover the other people who occupy this country of ours. Our Aikido practice teaches us to engage and adapt to a range of different people, emphasising the flexibility we need in order to maintain both our own integrity and the openness to being changed by those who touch us and our lives.
This martial art we practice, helps us maintain a firm posture in the face of an attack, whilst flexible enough to exercise our choices of how to deal with the situation; strong in our entry and soft in our turning; firm in the execution of technique yet flowing in application.
These are all important attributes in our engagement with our life in South Africa as we, each one in our own way, strive to make that freedom a reality.

So this weekend we concentrated on blending with the attack. For in this simple principle lies one of the fundamental secrets of aikido - by blending not opposing you can overcome. This blending lies in the way we hold our hand when we tenkan, in how we step off the line on an irimi movement, in the way we project uke so that they are taken by surprise as their attack goes beyond what they intended and they fly through the air. By blending, we can remain calm, unfazed almost, and in that way choose our response, in the moment, according to what is necessary - what is just right.
And ultimately that is what is meant by being in harmony with nature - doing what is just right - not too much, nor too little.

In the Art of Peace we never attack. An attack is proof that one is out of control. Never run away from any kind of challenge, but do not try to suppress or control an opponent unnaturally. Let attackers come any way they like and then blend with them. Never chase after opponents. Redirect each attack and get firmly behind it.
Morihei Ueshiba

The Still point

2008-01-04T17:01:00.000+02:00

This first entry of 2008 comes with the swish of waves lapping on the Camps Bay shore at 10h30, the feel of fine sand between my toes and the gentle heat of the UV rays on my shoulders ensuring that my natural brown goes even more bronze... Ahh the joys of modern mobile telephony...

Last night on the mat we practiced a number of techniques, including a fairly basic shiho-nage (4-corner throw) from katate-dori. Imagine, if you will, you are in left hanmi; your attacker reaches out to grab your left hand, whilst preparing to strike you with his right hand. You step in a rearward circle, drawing your left foot back and to a position 270 degrees to its previous position. This draws your attacker (uke) into the signature circular movement of aikido. You draw your hands to your centre, collect uke's outstretched wrist, raising it to your forehead before stepping forward, swiveling and throwing uke to the ground.

The circular movement makes a lot of sense: the hub of a wheel moves very little, while the outer rim has to move relatively, faster and further. Keeping uke then on the periphery of the circular movement forces uke to work harder to keep up.
While this is a fairly basic technique, it was that moment of quiet just before you raise your arms that struck me last night.

In that moment, as uke is coming around, centripetal and centrifugal forces conspire to cause gravity to lose its dominion and a curious lightness, even weightlessness seems to envelop both parties.

Minegishi sensei (6th dan) exhorted us at the recent AFSA 30th anniversary celebration training to look for that moment before uke settles back into posture. That is the moment to make one's move. Wait too long and you allow uke to regain his/her balance which you have worked to unsettle. Things become solid, staid, heavy and hard to move. Find that moment and your subsequent movements become light and effortless.

Finding the moment requires that you are completely present in the moment, that you are aware of everything that is happening between you and uke in that moment. You can only get there if you do not hold onto any one thing, but rather "listen" to everything happening - with your whole body.
it is also in that moment of quiet when all is still that the myriad possibilities of techniques or responses are revealed.

In Aikido, we are constantly looking for an opening, a physical gap into which tori can step or uke can fall. It is equally important to find that other gap where time and gravity stand still, and where softness resides. That is what takes your movement from technical proficiency to true artistry.

TS Eliot put it far better,and far more succinctly:

At the still point of the turning world. Neither flesh nor fleshless.
Neither from nor towards; at the still point, there the dance is....

Off the mat too, finding that elusive space of perfect stillness and quiet among the hubbub of our daily life, is also essential. Too much of our lives is spent reacting to events or stimuli, in knee-jerk reactions to things that happen without interposing or finding that moment of quiet to truly evaluate what is occuring. And then responding appropriately.

On the mat this results in a less than satisfactory technique or a painful experience for uke; in our daily lives it may also result in painful regrets or recriminations. The magic of the still point, and of the creativity locked within it and the range of choices it offers us, takes us from subsisting to truly living. In the same way that it uplifts your technique from being technically good to truly artistic, so too it permits us to experience the artistry of living a life more fulfilled.

So if you excuse me now, I'm off to find my own personal still point as the icy aquamarine Atlantic snatches my breath away as I dive into her embrace....

See you on the tatami soon

Ghalib

We arrive where we started and know the place for the first time...

2007-12-18T11:11:00.000+02:00

TS Eliot wrote about the moment when “we arrive where we started and know the place for the first time”.

For me the recent 30th Anniversary celebrations and training of AFSA (the Aikido Federation of South Africa) in my hometown of Cape Town represented such a moment. The celebrations brought together 5 very senior instructors - Osawa Shihan (7th dan), Fujimoto Shihan (7th dan), Minegishi Sensei (6th dan), Martuffi Sensei (6th dan) and our own De Beer Sensei (5th dan)and nearly 150 practitioners from around the globe and the country.
That space at the foot of the imposing Table Mountain, Hoerikwaggo to call it by its more mystical name, that space where the idea of an aikido federation for South Africa was born presented an unique laboratory. A place to rediscover that feeling of first stepping onto the mat, of letting go of the familiar, the comfortable. A space to open the mind and try out new ways of doing things, of being reminded of old, sometimes forgotten, ways of doing things.
In short, it was a space to close off this cycle and start anew - and a new cycle.

For AFSA, the event marked 3 decades of training in South Africa. It also heralded a worthy celebration of our emergence from isolation. The past 30 years were marred by our physical distance from the rest of the world and for much of that time the isolation that came from being a political pariah on the world scene. The last decade - our decade of democracy - has seen a dramatic shift, a narrowing of the gap between us and the rest of the (aikido) world.

The next 30 years pose a big challenge for AFSA. This new cycle we are starting will place new demands on us - of growth, of living up to the theme of "training together under African skies". In a country of nearly 48 million only 2,500 know about or have tried out aikido. There rests a responsibility on all of us who love and practice this rather unique martial art to introduce it to more people and thereby spreading its message of dealing with violence differently, more constructively to a wider audience.

On a more personal note, the seminar also marked in some ways my own coming of age - after 21 years of training. This year I struggled to re-locate my centre. Because Aikido is much more than a series of techniques or exercises; because it is based on a philosophy that permeates every aspect of the art, it demands a degree of consistency throughout one's life - both on and off the mat. Thus, if the exhortation on the mat is to ensure that you do not hurt either yourself or your partner, that self-same principle has to apply off the mat too. This is even more true when one is cast in the role of instructor.

So even though all of us are people, and are therefore fallible and make mistakes, and thereby hurt people, failing to recognise the mistake, and taking steps to ensure that you do not repeat it, is critical. It is to that lack of consistency, that lack of authenticity that students react, even unconsciously. And leave. Similarly it is the consistency, the authenticity in one's practice that ultimately shines through. And so, a lesson for me from the 30th anniversary has been that no matter whether you are flamboyant or reserved, training in a way that is effective yet does not cause harm requires a stable posture, a foundation of fundamental principles if you like that informs everything you do.

From there springs the joy in training, that infectious spirit that brings aikidoists together and sets aikido apart from other 'ways'.
So here's to the next 21 years for me, the next 30 years for AFSA! Here's to making new mistakes - and learning from them- to growth and expansion... And most importantly....here's to seeing you back on the tatami soon...

Ghalib

Creating beauty out of what is not pretty

2007-08-28T11:52:00.000+02:00

Much of my musings over the last while have been about creating beauty in the world, in rounding sharp edges, finding the beautiful shapes that we find in nature also on the mat.

I was reminded recently though that in getting to that beauty, there is a responsibility also to grapple with what is not so pretty... I include the whole blog entry by Regina Lindau for you to consider too...

Tonight our Aikido class had to be cancelled due to some logistical problem, so I have decided to instead write about some of my inspirations for tonight’s session. Generally Thursday classes are focussed a little more on the basics and I guess what I was thinking about becomes especially apparent when we practice basic techniques but of course is important at any level of practice.

Often – especially if we have practiced for a few years already - we have focussed a lot on principles like "maintaining our centre", “not being there when attack comes through" and "avoiding meeting force with force". These are all very critical principles in Aikido, but then there is also one that sometimes gets a little behind and that to my mind is just as critical and that has to do with the contact that happens between uke (the person that attacks) and tori (the one that executes the technique).

Aikido can look very pretty and can include big dramatic movements and especially at more advanced stages the contact becomes less physical and therefore less obvious to the observer. However, I think sometimes we get so wrapped up in the beauty of the movement and our need and sometimes ability to control that we start dismissing the importance of that contact.

So especially when we practice the very basic movements we get the chance to re-focus our attention on this. But what does that mean – this notion of contact? It really means that first of all – of course there needs to be a committed attack from uke, so that this contact can be established. From this the connection between the two partners can then be established. For us as tori it means that first of all we must acknowledge the attack. We must acknowledge the person we are working with and we must keep that awareness throughout the WHOLE movement. This sounds obvious but how often do we forget about uke halfway through the technique and get driven by our own ideas about what the technique must look like.

Now there is a point where one might argue that we cannot hand over the control to uke. And that is of course very true. However, there is a very distinct difference between giving away one’s centre and the skill of acknowledging and listening to uke and working with the attack.

This is a challenge for many of us and at the same time there is also the challenge of avoiding the clash – of the principle to not meet force by force. But avoiding the clash can never mean avoiding the contact. This would be fatal. Of course, as uke is playing along we might still be able to execute the technique. But in the face of a committed attack firstly uke will feel lost and secondly our self-involved approach will offer the gap for an attack that we might not have expected.

I even want to go further than just talking about the importance of that contact for the effectiveness and beauty of our Aikido. To me the importance of the contact and the connection that results from this reflects very clearly the value of respect and integrity that so often is associated with this martial art.

It seems easy to understand that we must always respect the person that we are working with. But how quickly do we forget that in the – not so pretty - reality of an attack. Of course an attack is not something we wish for. But if we are only able to keep the contact when things are pretty, then that is a huge lack of respect, because in dismissing the attack we disrespect uke. Reality is not always pretty and the real challenge comes in the moments where we are confronted with that. In those moments it is critical to maintain one’s centre, to not be a target for the attack and to not meet force by force, but it is equally important to maintain the contact and work with it creatively. So this is where I find integrity. Not in one set way of how things are done, not in a drawn out plan of answers but in the ability to be who we are and still keep the contact and respect those that cross our path even in the – sometimes not so pretty – face of reality.

This is a big challenge and I certainly haven’t mastered it but I was reminded today by some instance off the tatami and by my thoughts about tonight’s class. So again, I have become a little more aware of how crucial this is – whether it is on or off the mat. I think this is also what it means when we say that Aikido is possibly the most humble of all martial arts.

So this means life long practice for me and I know this practice will make a difference in my life and hopefully also - every now and then - touch those that cross my path.
http://carpediem-regina.blogspot.com/2007/06/not-always-pretty.html

2007-08-20T15:12:00.001+02:00

August 9th was National Women's Day in South Africa.

A day on which we celebrate more than half of our population. A day on which we remember just how far we have come in recognising the innate equality of men and women in society - and how much more must be done to ensure that it becomes a reality for all women.

Dated to commemorate the Women's March on August 9, 1956, when 20 000 women staged a march on the Union Buildings in Pretoria to protest against the proposed amendments to the Urban Areas Act (commonly known as the pass laws) of 1950. They left bundles of petitions containing more than 100 000 of signatures at Prime Minister J.G. Strijdom's office door.

Outside they stood silently for 30 minutes, many with their children on their backs. Those who were working for white people as nannies were carrying their (white) charges with them. The women sang a protest song that was composed in honour of the occasion: Wathint’Abafazi Wathint’imbokodo! (Now you have touched the women, you have struck a rock.). In the last 50 years since, the phrase (or its latest incarnation: "you strike a woman, you strike a rock") has come to represent women's courage and strength in South Africa.

The march was lead by Lilian Ngoyi, Helen Joseph, Rahima Moosa and Sophia Williams-De Bruyn.

Women still constitute a vulnerable section of the population - they are still more often the victim of abuse rather than the perpetrators (although they are imminently capable of the latter). In spite of the strides made towards gender equality, there are many areas of activity where people are discriminated against just because they are women. And while it is no longer true that "it is a man's world", we still have a way to go to experience true equality. Where equality means celebrating, not just tolerating, the differences between men and women.

For me it is also a time to remember all the amazing women who have crossed my path over the years - my mother, sister, grandmothers, girlfriends, lovers and friends - all of whom have taught me a little bit more about who I am and what I hold dear. Every relationship filled with meaning and lessons, an ongoing journey of discovery....

It also made me think of a question that has bothered me for a long time now: Why do more women not practice Aikido in South Africa?

After all, as a martial art, aikido is emminently suited to women. It is often assumed that women, because of an average man's greater physical strength, have a harder time defending themselves. In fact, in Aikido, because they are on average shorter, have a lower centre of gravity and are more intuitive to the use of ki, they are often better at Aikido than their male counterparts. It is only because society tends to make women think that they are weak that they don't realise their potential.
Aikido doesn't rely on brute strength - on the contrary, while physical strength can be useful, it is more the application of technique and timing that underlies Aikido's effectiveness. So why then don't more women do Aikido in South Africa?

Over the years the students (and ex-students) at my club have offered many reasons: some left so as not to have to deal with the overactive sweat glands of their training partners, others because they were tired of the bruises caused by equally inexperienced training partners clamping on, eager to show how much stronger they were and forgetting that everyone is on the mat to learn.

Equally significant is the number of students who leave because they feel that aikido doesn't offer them immediate skills in defending themselves. For them, very often self-defence is equated with protection against violence and aikido's underlying philosophy of not meeting violence with violence seems to be a bit of a let-down. And they go to swell the ranks of the karate or muy thai classes.

Finally, I believe that there are those who leave because there are so few female role-models, so few senior female instructors within the structure of Aikido in South Africa - and abroad. None of the resident instructors at the clubs around the country are women, and we have a handful of women black belts and senior grades scattered around the country. And while it is important that women instructors are recognised for their skill and experience - not merely because they are female - they have to make it as instructors in the first place. And therein lies an important responsibility - if more women are to realise the value of Aikido, we need to create the conditions for them to experience that value and the beauty that is inherent in the art. Aikido, in the way that O-Sensei envisaged it, is universal. And our practice has to reflect that universality in reaching out to everyone - regardless of background, culture or indeed gender.

See you on the tatami soon.
Ghalib

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Four Makko-ho Exercises

2007-03-27T14:47:00.001+02:00

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.

Bred from Fear

2007-03-22T08:14:00.001+02:00

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

Blogged with Flock

2007-03-09T13:51:00.000+02:00

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

2007-03-07T10:25:00.001+02:00

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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2007-03-03T07:37:00.000+02:00

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.

2007-02-07T17:48:00.001+02:00

A brand new year! Well, already the first month of this year has gone. And the world is a very different place to 2006.

We have one fewer dictator in the world after the hasty execution of Saddam Hussein just before New Year; the Republican party in the States has lost the war in Iraq and its grip on power back home; the earth is warmer - finally it is OK to admit that the weather is seriously funny and that we have caused it for the most part through our drive to consume. Imagine that the German bobsled team has to train on wheels - in the middle of WINTER in Germany!!!

But the beginning of the year is also a good time to start afresh, to look at what we have achieved in the preceding period and what the growth points should be for us in the new year. I graded to Sandan (3rd-degree) at the end of last year - the first time I had graded in nearly 9 years. And what it amounted to in the end was a validation of what I had been doing up until now, feedback regarding what I needed to concentrate on, and the realisation that after 20 years of practice, I was still a student - and would always be one.

Approaching your practice with the mind of a beginner is difficult. Most of us are focussed on becoming better or the best - in and of itself not a bad thing. However, we often measure success in terms of our relative standing to others. If Aikido or Life were a sport or a game, that ranking would be important. However, one of the central goals in Aikido (and in Life) is to become a better person. And that we can only do by looking within. And by becoming more aware - of others, of our attacker/partner, of ourselves. Every technique represents a dynamic relationship between uke and nage born in the moment they come together. Our lifelong practice represents a relationship with ourselves that seeks constantly to challenge the way we do things, how we react, what impact we have on the world around us. And in that regard we are all beginners.

At practice recently I was confronted with having to demonstrate a technique the execution of which I had not seen before. What a liberating experience! To be transported back to the position of being a beginner, and the excitement as the mind and body searched and cut-and-pasted from the thousands of movements they had experienced before until the movements felt right, until we stepped into the flow...

For having the mind of a beginner values what has gone before, validates our prior knowledge but opens us up to new experiences, or new perspectives on an old problem. Training with a beginner's mind does not mean we are stupid. Rather, it says that we are ready to learn, for if you are not making mistakes, chances are you are not learning.

So come step onto the safe space represented by the tatami and come make mistakes. Rather there than in real life...

See you on the tatami soon...

Ghalib

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2006-10-25T16:30:00.000+02:00

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

2006-10-25T16:19:00.000+02:00

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

2006-07-19T23:03:00.000+02:00

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

2006-07-17T11:45:00.000+02:00

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.)

2006-07-03T19:24:00.000+02:00

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..

2006-07-03T18:09:00.000+02:00

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...".

2006-07-03T17:49:00.000+02:00

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

2006-05-19T10:38:00.000+02:00

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

2006-05-05T16:49:00.000+02:00

Suwari waza ikkyo

2006-05-05T16:31:00.000+02:00

Sunset over Polokwane

2006-05-05T16:09:00.000+02:00

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)

2006-05-05T16:05:00.000+02:00

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

2006-03-30T15:17:00.000+02:00

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

2006-03-14T17:03:00.000+02:00

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

2005-10-01T10:26:00.000+02:00

Weeee!
Ghalib Galant

2005-10-01T10:25:00.000+02:00

Bokken work
Ghalib Galant

2005-10-01T10:24:00.000+02:00

Randori training
Ghalib Galant

2005-07-25T19:35:00.000+02:00

Done!
Ghalib Galant

2005-07-25T19:33:00.000+02:00

free practice
Ghalib Galant

2005-07-25T19:32:00.000+02:00

shiho-nage
Ghalib Galant

2005-07-25T19:30:00.000+02:00

developing sensitivity
Ghalib Galant

2005-07-25T19:06:00.000+02:00

Iriminage
Ghalib Galant

2005-07-25T18:40:00.000+02:00

Warming up
Ghalib Galant

2005-07-25T13:11:00.000+02:00

Practicing extension
Ghalib Galant

2005-07-20T22:05:00.000+02:00

The Sunday Semnars spring from the advanced aikido classes held every Sunday morning at the University of Cape Town.

Aikido is a Japanese martial art, called the Art of Peace or the Way of Spiritual Harmony. These Sunday Seminars are a way to create the space to reflect on Aikido as more than a series of physical activities and exercises, but rather a modern expression of budo, the way of the warrior.

All martial arts share as their end goal, the improvement of the person, the sharpening of the sword within to be put to use in the service of the greater good. So if you too wish to explore these themes, or think about yourself in relation to others in a different way, why not join us next Sunday at 10h30.

If you are not in Cape Town, why not leave a comment on the blog, share your insights, your experiences, your thoughts.
Ghalib Galant, 2nd Dan

2005-07-10T15:08:00.000+02:00

Sunday Seminar 09 July 2005

Today we practiced ten-chi nage (heaven & earth throw) inspired in part by O-Sensei's words:

"Always try to be in communion with heaven and earth; then the world will appear in its true light. Self-conceit will vanish, and you can blend with any attack".
In its practical application, tenchi-nage consists of leading uke in two directions at once - up to the sky and down to the ground - thereby upsetting his/her balance and making easy the resultant throw. Tenchi-nage can only be practiced, like all of aikido I suppose, with confidence. That self-confidence only comes with rigorous and regular training. Entering with confidence however is not the same as violence; often we mistake violence for effective technique. Confidence comes from self-knowing; it springs from trust; it arises from practice and reflection.

And herein lies the difference between an initial fumbling with the mechanics of the movement and a deep appreciation for the subtleties of the application.

Tenchi-nage again shows us that in order to engage successfully with uke, we need to commit our whole body, our whole being in fact, to the moment. It may be possible to unseat uke by moving just our hands apart, but the true beauty, the truly spiritual nature of this technique becomes apparent only when that movement involves the whole body moving in concert, the right hand rising along the centre line (not inscribing an arc), the left mimicking the movement of the left foot as it slides off the line to come to rest at uke's point of weakness, uchi-gawa.

This commitment requires that our whole body be involved; it is so easy to withdraw the extension from the bottom hand (in this example the left hand) as uke's balance is broken.And then to rely on the force of the top hand to push uke over and down. Contrast that feeling with the one where by extending strongly through both hands and by moving from your central point (tanden), uke's balance is broken and the technique finds easy completion.

By remaining grounded and true to ourselves (confident extension through the bottom hand), we do not have to resort to violence and force to achieve our objective (upper hand). In fact, by being well grounded we are able to free up ourselves to engage constructively with uke; indeed we free up our higher selves in order to meet aggression with gentleness, anger with love, fear with openness, hurt with compassion.

The name tenchi-nage gives us some inkling that this is a technique that teaches us about the innate duality within all of us - hard/soft, yin/yang, male/female, light/dark. Ultimately it is not so much transcending our baser (earth) nature to embrace our higher selves (heaven) - that happens when we die. Tenchi-nage is about reconciling that duality within ourselves in a way that allows us still to move freely and engage openly with our life on this plane.

Tenchi-nage understood in this way is an incredibly spiritual space, but one that seeks to teach us how to live in this moment, on this day, with this person while remaining true to our own purpose.

2005-07-04T15:04:00.000+02:00

Sunday Seminar 02 July 2005

Connecting .... and connecting ... and connecting

Every time uke attacks tori a relationship is created - and like any relationship it should never be a one-way street. Any good relationship requires both parties to be alive to the needs, expectations and the aspirations of the other. This does not mean that hose needs, expectations or aspirations HAVE to be fulfilled by the other partner; s/he should at least be aware of them, before deciding how to respond. So too in Aikido must the parties be aware of each other.

In order to execute any Aikido technique effectively it is crucial that the relationship between uke and tori remains a dynamic, vibrant one. Should either uke or tori become stale and stiff either in their attack or their defence, the technique equally becomes stale and stiff and forced.

In order to respond to the needs of uke, in order to fully respond to uke's attack, tori must remain alert, aware and above all connected. This notion of connectedness is central to any understanding of Aikido. O-Sensei often speaks of an attacker being already defeated in the moment of the attack because s/he is out of synch with the universe (and equally that tori is completely in tune with the universe) - so without this awareness, without this connection, there can be no aiki relationship.
At the risk of thinking in a linear (non-aiki) way, perhaps it's useful to think of the connection as having three phases: before, during and after.

Before
The first time you meet someone, subconsciously you size them up, your brain registers all sorts of details about them, you also decide whether you like them, want to get to know them a little (or a lot) better and whether they pose a danger to you or not. You also have any number of physiological responses - from sweaty palms to abject fear to utter joy - to them.
It is in this tumultuous moment that your relationship is born; how it develops is up to both of you. And that is why your response is so important. Intuitively, we step back in the face of an attack; aiki training teaches us instead "when an opponent comes forward, move in and greet him; if he wants to pull back, send him on his way"
What we do in this moment before the first physical touch, how clearly we connect with our uke will set the tone for the whole interaction. At a technical level this means getting the timing, body placement and breathing just right for our first irimi or tenkan movement; at a whole different level it means opening up our very being first to the possibility of, and then to the reality of the interaction and in that split second to embrace the moment joyously. And to move.

During
During the attack, from the moment of almost touching to the resulting throw or hold down, tori's awareness must be constant, maintaining the connection with uke for it is at this point that uke is most likely to want to change tack as the surprise at tori's response settles in. Tori should be aware of the messages coming to him/her from the points of physical contact but also from the stiffening of uke's body, his/her breathing etc.
It is often at this point, once s/he has taken the initial control that tori will lose the connection. The temptation to carry on through with what tori has decided will be the technique, will be great, its execution seemingly pre-determined. It is also at this moment, if we withdraw our awareness of uke, that we risk hurting uke through a misplaced projection or an inappropriate take-down. O-Sensei teaches that "to injure an opponent is to injure yourself. To control aggression without inflicting injury is the Art of Peace".

After
But the connection remains even after the throw or the hold-down is complete. Just as the connection began before the technique was formed, so too it lives on after the physical technique is performed. Ongoing awareness, zanshin, is necessary after an attack to ensure that the attack has indeed ended - both in the physical sense, and in the mind of uke. It is necessary in a higher sense to enable us to achieve a deeper sense of humanity, of engagement and of interaction with the world and the people around us. Zanshin in one sense is the notion of ubuntu that we cherish at the southern tip of Africa - I am who I am because of the quality of my relationships with others. Being sensitive and aware of others and of what they mean to us (on the tatami I cannot practice without uke and therefore cannot sharpen my skill and my soul) means that I become a better person. We need to appreciate that even in an attack - or in a death or departure - there lies a gift from uke as it shows us something to work on or something to celebrate. So the true zanshin, the real follow-through lies within.