HAI-YA!

OK, we've all seen those lame Kung Fu flix where the people go a bit mental on the Kiai...but is there really something to the whole "blood curdling scream" thing?

I would say YES. Done properly, kiai accomplishes a lot.
However, the key (as with everything) is doing it properly.
Kiai originates in the belly, not in the throat. Anyone who has studied singing will tell you that the powerful voice professional singers have cannot come from just using the throat. Some heavy metal singers without formal training try that and their voices are ruined in just a few years (the excessive lifestyle probably does not help either).

The kiai sound is made by a sharp exhalation of breath from the diaphragm combined with focus of intent behind it. It takes practice, real practice to be able to do this properly, since most of us are socialized not to use our voices in such a way (LOUDLY, that is).

When it works it...
1) Disconcerts Uke
This loud sound causes an involuntary reaction of Uke to blink or flinch. This creates an opening into Uke for a technique to manifest (if you do not consider kiai a technique on its own already).

2) Focuses your Intent
Projecting your voice has the added benefit of helping you channel your own intention. We often see a similar usage by weightlifters and other athletes when they exert effort. Aikido is all about channeling intention.

3) Contracts the Muscles
This is part of kime, focus, and adds a certain extra "snap" to techniques. Of course, by flexing, you can then relax, which is an important part as well. Kiai should occur just at that moment of tension, and then release lick a bullwhip cracking.

4) Affirms your Sense of Being
Kiai is very primal. It affirms us as ALIVE, and helps to shake us awake from the dream that is our daily routine. We know that our study of aikido is designed to help us become "more alive", and kiai is one very great example of this. It is, quite literally, a projection of our sense of self.
Half-hearted kiai indicates half-hearted aikido, which indicates a half-hearted sense of being. We should strive to be 100% in the moment during our training (which helps us be 100% in the moment outside the dojo as well).

Our laboratory, the dojo, is a great place to develop this technique, where kiai helps to create a cadence in the warmup, or to add that extra focus during practice. I think of Kiai as one of the atemi techniques in my aikido arsenal, and a very useful one in combination with other techniques I do.

For students who don't like it or refuse to do it, I would encourage you to reconsider.

This SHOUT OUT could help add another dimension to your aikido.

(hear) you on the mats,

OSU!

A taste of Honey

That's what Saori calls training with me..."a taste of Honey" no pun intended I'm sure.
Still, it reminds me of that song, "Sukiyaki" by the early 80s group A Taste Of Honey. C'mon, you know you've heard it...http://www.80smusiclyrics.com/artists/atasteofhoney.htm

The first time I did, I was living in suburban Chicago, had just started training with my original teacher, and had just started going to high school (YES, I'm OLD!). I heard this song and it made me think of JAPAN, some far away place that existed only in my dreams.
How could I have known back then that fate would someday take me there?

It took me 10 years and three attempts (made it on try number 4) to finally arrive in Japan in January 1991. A lot happened in between, and stilll more has happened since I got here.
I found Japan wasn't at all like the place I had imagined when I heard that song.

To say it another way, I don't live in that Japan, but that Japan lives in me.

I get the same feeling sometimes, like I did 25 years ago when I heard that song, that life contains a great mystery for me, and that I am moving towards it one step at a time.
It gives me a great feeling of anticipation, and that's what dreams are all about, aren't they?

After a week away, I am anticipating being on the mat ASAP...and as Taste of Honey said
"It's all because of you..."

See you (soon) on the mats,

Osu!

You Have No Idea What I am Capable Of...

I remember that line from some movie somewhere...I never forgot it. Maybe I have even said it to someone myself once or twice.

"You Have No Idea What I am Capable Of..." the idea here is to try to cause the person you say it to to fear you; to fear that offending you might bring them the full wrath of your fury, a God-like vengeance that would destroy them...Maybe also it is the unspoken way you settle into your kamae, or focus your metsuke that says, "you don't want any of this".

That is not who I want to be.
I want to twist that phrase into something else. I want to make it mean something different; something better. In the same way I want my life to mean something different, something better.

When I look into my little son's eyes, they tell me "You Have No Idea What I am Capable Of..."
In this case, it means that he has a nearly infinite potential to become a happy, successful person, with a lifetime of experiences that will enrich him and the lives of the people he shares it with. So do all of us.

For me as well, "You Have No Idea What I am Capable Of..." means that I want to show the people around me who I really am, not someone who is evil, hurtful, or spiteful (at least I hope not). I want to show a person capable of mercy, compassion, caring, forgiveness, and of being a source of energy, stregth, humor, and kindness in the lives of others. I can do this if my training gives me the courage to not be afraid to these things and to rightly see them as strengths instead of weaknesses.

You Have No Idea What I am Capable Of...but I intend to show you. Stay Tuned.

You Decide It and You Do It

This is for you (and you know who you are).

One could say that the study of Aikido can be summarized by that. "You decide it and you do it". Once you learn the basic movements, you could spend a long time thinking about the techniques, or you could just DO them. Inoue-kancho spoke about this at the Kagamibiraki ceremony, and it was clear that he decided his techniques and did them. Nothing more. But more importantly, nothing less. His tremendous willpower was visible in every movement. For me, this is the whole essence not just of our aikido practice, but of its effect on every part of our lives.

What I want from my training is to have the willpower to change my life. To decide it and to do it. To have the courage to face my fear, my laziness, my selfishness, and all of my many shortcomings, and to do what I decide to do despite them. This cannot be done halfheartedly, or it will certainly fail. It means developing a habit of giving and being 100% all the time.

If I get my wish, I will never injure another person through my aikido. My aikido will not give me mastery over others, but mastery over myself, and allow me to have all the important things in my life that I really want. This is the greatest benefit I can get from my training. I am not, and do not expect to be, the toughest guy in the world (sorry Seagal-sensei). Instead, I will choose to be the most successful guy in the world, judged by my own definition, not someone else's.

Every dayI go to the dojo, I reinforce my confidence that I can achieve what I want in my life. Not by changing other people, but by changing myself, and not by talking about it, by DOING IT. This is especially important at 4 AM when I wake up, in the dark and the cold, shave and get ready to go to the dojo and to a long day at work afterward.

I am often jealous of the days between 20 and 30 years old when I changed my life from nothing to something. During that 10 year stretch I paid my way through 5 years of private college, got a passport, went to a foreign country, learned a foreign language, and worked 40 hours a week or more basically the whole time. I didn't just take control of my life, I leveraged all of the training I had before (starting at 14 in my original dojo) and made those lessons count. I found I miss that time because I accomplished so much and my life was full speed ahead every day.
I was really proud of what I did during those years and I proved to myself that I could make my dreams come true.

I am equally proud of who I am now, and grateful to a lifetime (an adulthood anyway) spent in and around the martial arts, which are the real reason I had enough discipline to achieve anything at all. My current training takes me back to those days because it's tough, and I prove to myself that even nearing 40 I can still get it done. I do not have to be a victim of my boss, or my wife, or my children. I do not have to be a victim of MY LIFE. I can choose to change from victim to VICTOR.

This will be even greater than before, because I will not be selfish; I will use it to empower every relationship I have with every person in my life, and make all of our lives better. Hopefully not just with what I say, but with what I do.

Many people will come to the dojo seeking many things; this is my version of what I want.
I wouldn't trade it for anything, and I won't settle for anything less.

What are you looking for in the dojo?? Right or wrong you can find it.

Can You Stop a Bullet?

No, you can't. Don't worry, neither can I. It's OK, though. You shouldn't have to, and if you do your blocking right, you don't need to (even if it would be cool to do).

In the dojo, you often see the case of uke waiting for the attack to come, and then making a sloppy, late block when it does. This is no different than waiting for the bullet, and somehow being surprised you couldn't stop it. Luckily we are in the dojo, our laboratory, and not on the street where that strike might be deadly.

The point here is simple. Bullets only go where the gun points. Don't watch the bullet, watch the gun. Likewise, don't try to stop the bullet (you can't), stop the gun.
Two ways to do this:

1) Get out from in front of the gun (avoiding the path of the bullet)
This means moving around uke
2) Get the gun pointing away from you (causing the path of the bullet to miss you)
This means moving uke around you

Both of these ideas have relevance in Yoshinkan, and are common theories in other arts too. Wing Chun, for example, is notable for its study of centerline theory and attention to shite and uke control of that line.

In practical terms, this also means stopping the attack of uke at its origin -NOT at its destination. You can stop punches and strikes by blocking higher up the arm (above the elbow or directly at the shoulder - depending on how close you are). For kicks it means blocking when the attacking leg chambers (often with a push kick using the ball of your foot, or a cut kick at the base leg).

For this to work it is important that your eyes be focused on the center of uke's chest just below the neck. The right place in many arts is the point at the top of the sternum. Because of human anatomy, this will are will start to move as a strike develops, and you can use your peripheral vision to read the movement.

The next level involves actually taking the developing power of uke's strike as it launches, rather than midway through (which loses the force). Thus, in prinicple, you capture the strike as it starts, blend with that motion, and finally redirect it to your desired result.

Sounds simple, but hardly so. First it means overcoming the fear of being hit, so you can be close enough to uke to get the strike when it starts. Yep. That means MOVING TOWARD UKE so you can take control. One way to visualize this is as if you are a wave which washes into uke, and then washes out to your own destination. A great technique for understanding this is shomen uchi kote gaeshi 2. Wash in and capture, wash out and throw. Another good example is shomen uchi ikkajo osae 2. Wash in and capture, wash out and throw. The safest place is often the closest place to uke. It sounds odd, but it's true.

Try it and see.

Osu!

Checkmate!

One of the biggest criticisms I hear about Yoshinkan from other stylists is that there is a fairly well-defined set of techniques to learn, and that's it. After that it is just practice practice practice. OK, it is true that Yoshinkan is very rigidly structured, which helps to keep the techniques and teaching method regulated and pure. At the same time, our practice in the dojo leads us to Jiyuwaza, the closest we get to manifesting REAL Yoshinkan. Jiyuwaza is quite far from being rigid or highly structured except in the very early stages.

Don't forget that chess also has a finite number of pieces and squares, but the actual combination of moves in a chess match is practically infinite. Chess also includes dynamic responses to an opponent, and there are various levels of mastery which include the ability to think and plan several steps ahead and sense your opponent's reaction to every move you make. When you play against a true master, there is a certain inevitability of the outcome almost from the opening move.

Of course, I would contend that Yoshinkan training allows us to make multiple moves for each single move our opponent makes, and that is where the chess analogy does not fit. Still, there is value in being able to understand the infinite possibility from studying the finite methodology, and it becomes yet another way that Yoshinkan training can manifest itself in us every day.

See you on the Mat,

OSU!

Close Your Eyes...

Typical cold January morning in Tokyo.
As I got ready for the class my contact lens fell out and gone.
My eyes are bad, really bad. Left one basically doesn't work at all (can only see vague shapes, I guess it's -200 or something). Right eye (usually contact lens) is -5.5.

So...out onto the mats without being able to see any detail at all.
We did Jiyuwaza, and aside from being a little disconcerting at first it actually didn't really matter that much. My techniques weren't great, but not any worse for not being able to see clearly anyway. I can blame not training enough, but can't blame not seeing enough.

Many times we talk about aikido techniques starting with the touch of uke on shite that leads to dynamic motion (although some would argue that tehniques actually start even before that). I think we can depend too much on our eyes and forget to listen with our bodies and "feel" the touch. I asked Sensei to do some of the techniques blindfolded. We haven't done it yet, but I bet it would highlight a lot about our balance and posture (or lack thereof).

Having your eyes open or closed shouldn't matter, but somehow it does. I'd like to do more blindfold practice since I think it develops a really good sensitivity.

See you (even with my eyes closed) on the mats.

Osu!

It's a Kind Of MAGIC

WOW! You watch those guys at Kagami-biraki and they make it look so easy...they hardly touch uke andBOOM! like a cannonball from a cannon. It must be a kind of magic, right?

OK, maybe it's not really MAGIC, per se. At least, there seems to be a real, logical, quantifiable method for understanding how aikido works. The rest, of course, IS magic. The subject of another later post (stay tuned).

Today, sensei mentioned visualizing the lines, circles, spirals and other key shapes.
Aikido motion is sometimes best understood by the combination of shapes between shite and uke, and once we can see the imaginary lines in our mind, getting from point to point become more meaningful, more efficient, more effective.

I recall a very interesting book on physics in the martial arts, "Fighting Science: The Laws of Physics for Martial Artists" by Martina Sprague. You can find it on Amazon. OK, this helps turn some wizened old monk's words into something that foreigners can sink their teeth into (especially pointy-head enginner types, no offense). It does explain a lot, and it is a bit better than just saying "it works because that's how it has always been done".

We often discuss martial arts (especially striking arts) as "application of hard weapon against soft target" or in Yoshinkan "all your power, all your force, on a single point at a single time". Why? Maybe this book is a good read for the curious (or the faithless). Check it out and see what you think. See if you can start to notice the power of the geometric shapes in Yoshinkan. See if those shapes appear when your techniques manifest.

I want to believe that I can break down my movement scientifically and polish it until it is in accord with Natural Law, and has inherent strength, balance, and power because our universe provides a framework for it to be so. Not just because we say it should be so.

Beyond that, a little magic couldn't hurt, right?

Osu!

Pain and Injury in Aikido

Something in Saori's blog made me feel I needed to write this. I have watched a lot of people do a lot of Aikido over the years, and the rightful place of pain and injury in Aikido is a good subject for interpretation and debate.

Before delving in, lets' define for purposes of this post that:
* Pain refers to a sensation of physical discomfort
* Injury refers to lasting physical damage that reduces body functions

Thus, according to the definition above, pain cannot kill you, but injury can. To state it another way, pain stops once the technique stops, while injury lasts until it is treated. Both have a certain place in the ethical/practical framework of aikido.

At the extremes, I can see the manifestation of Steven Seagal-sensei's aikido, which is designed to cause maximum injury to uke (and maximum entertainment for movie viewers). By contrast, comparitively "soft"styles of aikido like shin shintoitsu (as taught by Tohei Koichi-sensei) use neither pain nor injury in their application.

Strict traditionalists could fall on one side or the other. O-Sensei would probably have argued for an ethical aikido of harmony with all life, while bearing in mind that aikido, although sometimes said to be a kind of "moving meditation" or "dialogue of motion" between shite and uke, is still a "martial art" and martial implies the use of injurious force.

In today's world, there are not only ethical, but legal implications to consider. Breaking someone's body (or using potentially lethal force) such as Daito-ryu might advocate, could lead someone to trouble with the police (or a lifetime of regret at the very least). However, there can be situations where one's life or the life of loved ones is truly threatened, and right action would be defined as injury to another as a lesser evil rather than injury to the large group of harmonious people instead.

In my personal view, pain is an integral part of the training and application of aikido techniques. Pain acts as a primary means of disrupting uke's unified power of attack (UPA), and taking away their harmful focus and intent. At the same time, the ethics of application mandate that we stop our techniques once uke's intent is disrupted, and thus the pain stops as well, with no long-lasting effects on uke. I would furthermore say that without using pain, we must injure uke to stop their attack. I am not an advocate of injury either inside or outside the dojo, and would see this as a last desperate resort. Hopefully, there will never be a case where intentionally injuring someone is the only way to resolve conflict.

Part of the training in the dojo is about harnessing our willpower. This includes an understanding and experience of pain/discomfort. A great example is the Yonkajo technique. The pressure on those nerves really hurts. After the year-end session my arms were black and blue for over a week. The first few times we did it as a new student I wanted to scream -it is very uncomfrtable indeed. Now not so bad. What's differrent? The technique is the same, but I have changed. The pain is still uncomfortable, but does not disrupt my will any more. The ability to handle the discomfort and keep focused helps in many ways in my daily life.

The power of aikido is a lot like a having a life insurance policy - you hope you never need it, but if you do, you (and other loved ones) are likely to end up being awfully glad you had it.

What do you think?

The Man in the Mirror

Attended the Honbu Dojo opening ceremony called "Kagami-biraki" -literally "opening the mirror" on Sunday at Yoshinkan Hinbu Dojo in Ochiai. There were many famous teachers there including Chida-sensei, Chino-sensei, and of course Inoue-kancho.

It was a short demo, about 1 hour, and narrated by Chida-sensei. There were about 6 separate demonstrations, and a lecture by Inoue-kancho.

Notably, Chino-sensei's movement. Thompson-sensei described him like a "pocket battleship". He shows incredible energy on the mats, and he is the most dynamic I have seen. There is very strong intent in his movements, and he has no hesitation at all. He just goes full speed full time. And yet he always seems to have total control. Amazing. His Aikido has it all. Grace, Power, Energy, and Willpower. Maybe I can be like that in about a thousand years. After watching him, I continue to think of how important it is to be dynamic in my life. It is my goal that my martial arts training make me "more alive", more dynamic than otherwise, and better able to be a vital part of the world - specifically the lives of the people I share it with. This seems in keeping with Yamada-kaicho's opening address which was that Yoshinkan training aims to "give young people strength and help them contribute to society". Chino-sensei is a great example of that.

Chida-sensei was dynamic as well, just as on the DVD of him I have. He is effortless, and very focused. I wish I could have seen him do shomen-uchi shomen iriminage, to see the "spin" that Micahel-sensei talks about. Maybe next time.

Inoue-kancho's presentation hit the other point I want to mention here - Timing. He showed lots of examples of how the timing made the difference in the effectiveness of the technique. In essence, the timing was the technique. It is not just "right action", but "right action at the right moment". This is the AI of aikido; which is finding the harmony of motion between yourself and uke, and manifesting "right action" within that harmony. That's the Magic.

Since then, I have been thinking constantly about these things. Maybe this year will have the same breakthrough for me that I saw in Chris last year. The moment when the light bulb turns on, and you can bring together all the things which you have learned. When it starts to be a natural extension of who you are. After that, we must train hard to have that in every moment.

See you on the mats. Osu!

John

What a Difference a Day Makes

Finally back in the groove. Feels great to be back on the mats and training again. Bang the rust off, shake it out, and try to remember what we were doing last year.

Taught Shomen Uchi Ikkajo Osae in the second class. It is a real eye opener to see through the eyes of someone experiencing these things for the first time. Instant flashback to the early days of Chris and I sweating on the mat trying to do kihon dosa, tai no henko, and even kamae. The tension in every muscle, the screaming legs at the end of class, throwing up after the first lesson because it was so early and my body couldn't take all the back breakfalls. Wondering why my arms and legs just wouldn't listen...

It has been just over 15 months since we started. Days like today feel like it has been 15 years - other days like it has been 15 minutes...

One of the biggest differences I notice is in the difference in presence on the mat. Maybe this is the "aura" or "ki" that people talk about. The "newbies" have a shy and timid sense about them. I remember that time too. Like a deer in the headlights, waiting for soemthing to happen to you rather than getting out there and making things happen through your own will. Life outside the dojo is not a bit different from this. After 15 months you start to feel comfortable, and some days it is more like home than anywhere else.

My original teacher used to say "The years teach much the days never know". I hope I can keep my beginner's mind and remain fresh throughout the training. I never want to lose the joy of starting to figure out how things work...Thanks Jimmy! I owe you one!

Friendly Little Drinks

Back from the US late last night only to discover my wife's dad took a tumble down the stairs at 2 AM at Nippori Station after a New Year's Party on 6 Jan, split his head open, lost a lot of blood, and seems to have some serious (possibly permanent) damage from it.
Good thing someone found him - he might have died.
Is there a lesson here? Isn't there always?

I'm sure he didn't wake up that morning (or go out that evening) expecting what happened. Given that he is experieincing headaches, blurry vision, and cannot walk, the chance of him driving his pride and joy (his Mercedes G Class), playing golf (every Japanese man's passion), or playing catch with his grandsons (number two expected in June) is slim. Was it worth it? Personally I think NO.

Lesson 1:
Treasure every moment and avoid foolish risk. The consequences can be dire indeed. Many things once done, cannot be undone. What would you give to have back what you have lost?
Make EVERY day count.

Lesson 2:
The things we do do not just affect us. They affect the large network of all those around us. Many actions which could be called foolish are actually malicious when you consider the damage they do to the lives of those surrounding people. All of our lives have changed from what happened to him.

May 2006 be bright and prosperous for us all. See you on the mats.

Last Lesson of 2005

Yoshinkan tradition says this one is the hardest class of the year.
To me, these classes are really about how to overcome emotion in the dojo.

The hardest physical classes are often the best for cultivating the discipline over the self which is needed for excellence in life. When we see young students who display frustration, fear, anger, or other emotions in the dojo, or even when we see this in ourselves, it acts as a reminder that we must strive to master these emotions and not let them master us. It is in our nature to feel these things, yet discipline is what gives us control over them. With discipline comes willpower.

My goal is to have the same presence in class regardless of the content of the lesson. It is not to disconnect the mind or spirit from the body, but rather to rise high enough above it to unify. Too often our minds and spirits are slaves to the needs of our bodies, and we fail to reach a higher level. When I can do this, I will be one step closer to the invincible nature of the martial arts. This nature manifests in the law that "you can be killed, but you cannot be beaten".

Michael-sensei mentioned that after years of training he no longer has "good days" or "bad days" on the mat, meaning that his technique and presence have a consistent nature in the dojo. Martial arts and their techniques, physical or otherwise, surely must have a goal of consistency, and this is another imporant goal to focus on in 2006.

We have all come so far, but there is still such a long way to go.