Some Thoughts on Grading Examinations

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

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

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...

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

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

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

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



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



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





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

      







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



       







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



        







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





 



Reference

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

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Bred from Fear

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

See you on the tatami,

Ghalib

Blogged with Flock

On going before:

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

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

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

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



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

See you on the tatami soon,

Ghalib

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

technorati tags:Aikido, Teaching, learning

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The only constant is change...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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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You never step into the same river twice...

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

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

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

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

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

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

See you on the tatami

Sacrifice & Celebration

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

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

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

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

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

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

O-Sensei saw this as the essence of Aikido:

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

He also had some further advice for us:

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

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

See you on the mat soon,

Ghalib

Dulce et decorum est

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

Aikido & Beginners

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Kenneth Cottier
Hong Kong Aikikai

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











 

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

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

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


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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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


O-Sensei said:

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

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



See you on the tatami soon..





 

Reflection....



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

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

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

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

To know how other people behave takes intelligence,

but to know myself takes wisdom.

To manage other people's lives takes strength,

to manage my own life takes true power.

If I am content with what I have,

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

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

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

life force in conflicts.

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



- Tao