Sometimes that makes all the difference. Today we worked on ushiro ryote mochi sankajo osae 1 & 2. Technically, we were able to get it fairly accurate. However, I was aware after the lesson that I spent most of the time doing the technique TO Saori and David, rather than WITH Saori and David.
Of course I know that Aikido's "ai" means harmony and refers to the dynamic union of shite and uke at that brief moment in time when they are together in a single motion. Easier said than done.
To me, that is the next level of improvement in my training...to respond to the feedback from uke dynamically, and make the technique a single fluid motion between us. That will take the rest of my life to achieve, but well worth it. Work on this concept more in class tomorrow.
Osu!
John
Wednesday, September 20, 2006
Vital Signs
vi‧tal /[vahyt-l] –adjective1. of or pertaining to life
2. having remarkable energy, liveliness, or force of personality
3. necessary to life
4. necessary to the existence, continuance, or well-being of something
5. of critical importance
6. indispensible
Vital. I like that word, and have been thinking about it all morning. That is how I want my training to be. Vital. Having remarkable energy. Necessary to my well-being. indispensible.
Like many things in our lives, when they are neglected or taken for granted, they diminish.
I often worry that my training will lose focus and intensity, especially when I am travelling so much and burdened with so many other things. It is especially important for me to make my time on the mats counts, and to never become complacent with my current level.
I continue to believe that who I am in the dojo is who I am out of the dojo (at least who I want to be). Vibrant. Participating. Supportive. Obsessed with excellence.
I hope you, too, can keep your energy level high when we train, and be sure to be in the lesson 100% every moment we are there together. Be Vital.
Osu!
John
Tuesday, September 05, 2006
"whenever I move, that is aikido"
Excellent quote from O-Sensei, and worthy of a lot of consideration.
I saw it here on a you tube site which looks like Aikikai guys from Sweden or Finland (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OYRrlKgRNQ4). A very cool clip of some very cool guys. I also like this clip from Master Tony Yates (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aicHsMC6rxM)
I escpecially note his crisp footwork and very strong atemi, which rocks uke back onto his heels. To me, both of these are great examples of final product after years of work, where the motions are strong and balanced, and there is a dynamic contact between shite and uke.
I get excited whenever I see people that good. I want to be that good. You probably do too.
"Whenever I move, that is aikido"...someday...
Osu!
John
I saw it here on a you tube site which looks like Aikikai guys from Sweden or Finland (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OYRrlKgRNQ4). A very cool clip of some very cool guys. I also like this clip from Master Tony Yates (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aicHsMC6rxM)
I escpecially note his crisp footwork and very strong atemi, which rocks uke back onto his heels. To me, both of these are great examples of final product after years of work, where the motions are strong and balanced, and there is a dynamic contact between shite and uke.
I get excited whenever I see people that good. I want to be that good. You probably do too.
"Whenever I move, that is aikido"...someday...
Osu!
John
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
Softly softly
Just noticed this morning how soft my uniform had become...I bought it on eBay some time ago, and it arrived crisp enough to stand on its own. It actually hurt to wear it for awhile. Now it is as soft as a flannel blanket, which is somehow comforting.
When I started in Yoshinkan I was the same way. Every motion was all muscle power and force against force, which from my prior training I thought was the right way. Now, the trick is how to get the most result out of the least effort. To use the hips rather than the arms and chest, to be subtle and, for lack of a better term, "soft". At this point Yoshinkan becomes very efficient.
One of the most wonderful things about Yoshinkan is the subtle nature of the techniques, and the blend of linear and circular shapes. Unlike purely linear styles like Wing Chun, Yoshinkan allows for circles and spirals of all shapes and sizes as a way of redirecting motion and capturing uke from the most advantageous angle. Each movement should set up the next, in an inevitable dance that leads uke's attempt to rebalance into an osae or nage.
The discovery here never seems to end, as each technique challenges us to explore how the human body affects balance and strength, and how to remove them with the minimal amount of effort. Still so much to learn, and truly fascinating stuff.
Osu!
When I started in Yoshinkan I was the same way. Every motion was all muscle power and force against force, which from my prior training I thought was the right way. Now, the trick is how to get the most result out of the least effort. To use the hips rather than the arms and chest, to be subtle and, for lack of a better term, "soft". At this point Yoshinkan becomes very efficient.
One of the most wonderful things about Yoshinkan is the subtle nature of the techniques, and the blend of linear and circular shapes. Unlike purely linear styles like Wing Chun, Yoshinkan allows for circles and spirals of all shapes and sizes as a way of redirecting motion and capturing uke from the most advantageous angle. Each movement should set up the next, in an inevitable dance that leads uke's attempt to rebalance into an osae or nage.
The discovery here never seems to end, as each technique challenges us to explore how the human body affects balance and strength, and how to remove them with the minimal amount of effort. Still so much to learn, and truly fascinating stuff.
Osu!
Tuesday, August 22, 2006
Cause and Effect
Today we spent the whole lesson practicing and discussing how to make an effect happen on uke. Specifically, it was the effect of their balance falling into position so that your own body shift can be at the right place at the right time. It all hinged on being able to move their arm to a certain position, behind which their balance was dependent. It got me thinking, though.
If we observe carefully, we can start to see the ways in which our actions impact the lives of other people. Sometimes willfully, sometimes unintentionally, but ALWAYS. I find it amazing that our second son is so quiet and calm compared to our first. maybe it is just because he is different. But maybe it is also because WE are different.
Take a look around you. See all the people you interact with on a daily basis. All of their lives can be dynamically changed by being in contact with you - just as uke is changed by being in contact with you. The power in this is impossible to deny.
Osu!
If we observe carefully, we can start to see the ways in which our actions impact the lives of other people. Sometimes willfully, sometimes unintentionally, but ALWAYS. I find it amazing that our second son is so quiet and calm compared to our first. maybe it is just because he is different. But maybe it is also because WE are different.
Take a look around you. See all the people you interact with on a daily basis. All of their lives can be dynamically changed by being in contact with you - just as uke is changed by being in contact with you. The power in this is impossible to deny.
Osu!
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
The Fork in The Road
We have all faced it, and we will all face it again. The fork in the road between right action and easy action. This can take many forms. Sometimes it means the difference in doing something just for one's own selfish desires, and doing for the greater good. Sometimes it is simple difference between right and wrong, made worse by the delusion that we can do wrong and "not get caught".
Make no mistake, we are in combat every day. This combat is a "combat of the soul" and our victory is the victory of our good human nature over the evil that men do. We live in a world of temptation.
I want very much to believe that martial arts training prepares us to win these battles, the little battles inside us every day that cause us to give in to temptation, or help us to stand strong against it. The temptation to sleep in late and be lazy can be overcome, as we have found from our years of training together at 5:45 AM. So too, can other temptations be overcome, and allow us to choose long-term benefit over short-term satisfaction. We win a little bit every day.
Of all the challenges we face in our lives, the challenge to choose right action in the right moment without hesitation is to me the central goal of my life on this earth. I know my training will give me the courage to win this battle again and again.
What will you do next time you stand at the fork in the road? Will you be proud of the choice you make? Will your training give you the strength to do what is right?
I wish you the same victory I wish for myself.
Osu!!
John
Get a Grip
Good lesson today training in suwariwaza/tachiwaza sankajo from katatemochi and shomen uchi. On important thing in Yoshinkan that I often neglect is the need to grip uke's arm. Not sure if it's because I am trying too hard to flow, or just afraid to grab the arm. However, it is an integral part of several of the key controls in Yoshinkan that you actually GRAB uke's arm (usually elbow) and rotate it as part of the process of taking uke's elbow/shoulder and breaking the balance. The kihon shomen uchi responses for ikkajo, nikajo, sankajo, and yonkajo (ichi variations primarily) are prime examples since they depend on this rotation to unbalance uke and begin the dynamic motion of the technique. Without gripping and rotating, the technique feels weak and often fails to control uke effectively.
It is important to remember to get a grip.
Osu!
John
It is important to remember to get a grip.
Osu!
John
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
It Is What It Is
The other day I heard from my college friend Rob. What a great surprise. I remember the first day that I joined the fencing class at College of DuPage, and we became instant friends. That led to a wonderful time in my life from 87-90 or so, with a lot of discussions about everything and the occasional spontaneous camping trip thrown in for good measure.
He asked me, "what is Ki?" Yikes. After being involved in the martial arts in one way or another for almost all of my life (all of it that meant anything, anyway), had I found the answer yet? At the same time, the answer to this elusive goal is something that most of us have in the back of our mind all along this journey, and the answer changes as we change.
As well, this question speaks to the nature of we martial artists as spiritual beings, and underpins the close relationship to Buddhism and Shinto in our training. Hollywood movies attempt to make a lot out of this, whether it is the insidious Star Wars saga with its "May the Force be with You" or the Karate Kid series "wax on, wax off".
For a preface, I would say that any traditional zen master confronted with such a question would be likely to give the student a whack with the kyosaku (the "stick of awakening" used during zazen training) not just because even they might not know the answer, but also since the question is even more important than the answer, and trying to put it into words could not do it justice.
However, here's my personal view. You need not agree with it or believe it. Even I may not believe it next time I read this.
KI refers to several things. Here I want to look at two broad topics:
1) the force of life
2) faith or conviction
An example of the first of the above two points: I am amazed at the grip my newborn second son Ray has, even though he is only 10 days old. He cries with a singular sense of purpose, much more loudly than I could if I were his size, and it is pure and without prejudice.
Life wants only to live, and this driving force is KI. It is what causes fish to swim upstream, birds to migrate thousands of miles, and trees to grow in even the most hostile of conditions. It is at once a beautiful and desperate thing, and involves the instinctive hope of any living thing to survive and prosper. What we feel here is the most primal of all our basic natures, and animals are great examples of KI.
It is for this purpose that man-made things do not have KI. Quite simply, there is no life force in things which were never alive (although I must confess I like the romantic idea of Japanese swords and other ancient things having KI). We are also made acutely aware of this force when people die. It is as if the light leaves their body and what has held their molecules in the same place for so long just lets go and then the light goes out.
We are all born with KI, which is in us until we die. This is our common starting point and our connection to the natural world around us. A deep awareness of this through meditation can help develop our "connected feeling" (the AI in Aikido) but everyone has KI regardless of whether they know/acknowledge it or not. Considering our KI as our "soul" gives a Christian connotation which is not really appropriate, and also hints at Buddhist discussion about such things as whether animals have souls/Buddha natures, which is more academic than is necessary here, it is enough to say that since they are alive they have KI.
An example of the second part is during certain classes when I finally stop thinking and analyzing and just let my body move as it has been taught. This purity in motion, rare as it is for me, is when I let my faith in my techniques, my training, and myself take over.
This is really where we have an opportunity to develop KI.
When we extend our KI in class, or in our life, what we are doing is extending our faith and conviction in the moment at hand. This is faith and conviction in ourselves, in our cause, and in our technique. We TRUST. That is also KI. We let go and allow what is to be, to be.
Our training should help us to have this happen more and more often, until it becomes our natural state of being. That is, always letting go, and allowing ourselves to be connected to the natural world around us and, more importantly, not resisting that connection but instead rejoicing in it.
I have mentioned in other posts about "right action in the right moment without hesitation", and I believe this is a central concept to KI development, and the instinctive, decisive action it helps develop deepens our connection to our life force (as above). Humans are unique among the Earth's creatures in that we are self-aware (and may be the only living things on Earth that are so). This means that we can be conscious of these things, and can actively seek to deepen our connection. So saying, we can develop our KI, at least inasmuch as we can make better use of the Ki we have been given.
Rob mentioned to me that he is "in tune with his body", to which I would say that strength of the body is surely important, but even more important is to be in tune with the world around us, since that is a power greater than our own.
I am setting the stage for a larger post about martial arts and religion which I owe this blog, but for now I want to get this out as a starting point.
I want to know what YOU think. Maybe we can find the answer together.
OSU!
John
Monday, May 08, 2006
"You will Want That Time Back Someday"
I suppose each of us has his or her own reasons for starting the long road of training in the Martial Arts. The great part is that over time, we realize benefits we did not foresee. In my case, self defense was the initial motivator, but I quickly found the spiritual side of the training to be a good guide for the rest of my life as well.
In my early teens, for some reason, I become obsessed with my own mortality, and wanted to overcome my fear of death, to be able to have "right action in the right moment without hesistation" which can only come from living without fear. Over time I learned that this is much more about not being afraid of Life than it is about not being afraid of Death. By this, I mean not being afraid to take chances and reach for your dreams; not being afraid of failing as often as it takes to reach your goals.
After several years of training, and some of my own close brushes with death, I was convinced that I had overcome such fears and was free to act. That is, I was no longer afraid of dying. The truth is, though, that at that age (20 or so), I had nothing to lose that I put a high value on. The rest of my life had yet to unfold. With nothing to lose, throwing away one's life no longer seems like such a noble gesture. Rather, it was just the angst and wasteful stupidity of youth.
Now, at nearly 40, my life has become rich beyond my wildest expectations. I have a wonderful family, many friends, and a challenging job. I have been able to take part in the happiness and success of those around me, and actually play a vital part in their lives, which is what I really wanted. Am I still unafraid to die? Could I let go if I had to??
I have to say YES, if I had to, I believe I could still give up my life (of course, one never knows until that exact moment). The very fact that I can say YES now is much more important now than it was when I believed it at 20. I have so much to lose now, and so much to let go of in such a case. The only things I will have are the belief that I have lived my life well and fully, without regret, and the desire to leave one final legacy for those I have known, which is the lesson on how to die with dignity when the time comes.
When I think of the heroes on United 93 (now a movie), I imagine what a man thinks about before he puts his life on the line. How does he decide to let go? What message does he send to those he leaves behind? Can he really have dignity in those last final moments? Those brave people defined the word HERO for me, and many of them had to let go of an awful lot to be free to have right action in the right moment without hesitation.
That brings me to the point of this post. All of us will end up wishing we have more time. We don't. That moment will come when it comes, and training in the Martial Arts is not about making us want to throw our lives away at the earliest opportunity. Rather, it is about experiencing a richness of life so great that we use our lives to the best possible result, and be willing to accept that finality when the time comes (and it will for us all) and face it with dignity and without regret.
I have seen lots of people engage in self-destructive behaviors of a wide variety (and have been guilty of many myself). Now that my life is good, I would like those extra minutes/days/weeks I wasted back. I can't have them. They are gone. I have only now, and the unknown future ahead of me, to do the best I can until the inevitable happens.
My advice here is simple: when you smoke that cigarette, slam that shot, or use drugs (and the list of self-destructive behaviors is longer than I can list here) just remember...YOU WILL WANT THAT TIME BACK SOMEDAY...unfortunately, you can't have it again. It's gone.
Make today count. Please.
Osu!
In my early teens, for some reason, I become obsessed with my own mortality, and wanted to overcome my fear of death, to be able to have "right action in the right moment without hesistation" which can only come from living without fear. Over time I learned that this is much more about not being afraid of Life than it is about not being afraid of Death. By this, I mean not being afraid to take chances and reach for your dreams; not being afraid of failing as often as it takes to reach your goals.
After several years of training, and some of my own close brushes with death, I was convinced that I had overcome such fears and was free to act. That is, I was no longer afraid of dying. The truth is, though, that at that age (20 or so), I had nothing to lose that I put a high value on. The rest of my life had yet to unfold. With nothing to lose, throwing away one's life no longer seems like such a noble gesture. Rather, it was just the angst and wasteful stupidity of youth.
Now, at nearly 40, my life has become rich beyond my wildest expectations. I have a wonderful family, many friends, and a challenging job. I have been able to take part in the happiness and success of those around me, and actually play a vital part in their lives, which is what I really wanted. Am I still unafraid to die? Could I let go if I had to??
I have to say YES, if I had to, I believe I could still give up my life (of course, one never knows until that exact moment). The very fact that I can say YES now is much more important now than it was when I believed it at 20. I have so much to lose now, and so much to let go of in such a case. The only things I will have are the belief that I have lived my life well and fully, without regret, and the desire to leave one final legacy for those I have known, which is the lesson on how to die with dignity when the time comes.
When I think of the heroes on United 93 (now a movie), I imagine what a man thinks about before he puts his life on the line. How does he decide to let go? What message does he send to those he leaves behind? Can he really have dignity in those last final moments? Those brave people defined the word HERO for me, and many of them had to let go of an awful lot to be free to have right action in the right moment without hesitation.
That brings me to the point of this post. All of us will end up wishing we have more time. We don't. That moment will come when it comes, and training in the Martial Arts is not about making us want to throw our lives away at the earliest opportunity. Rather, it is about experiencing a richness of life so great that we use our lives to the best possible result, and be willing to accept that finality when the time comes (and it will for us all) and face it with dignity and without regret.
I have seen lots of people engage in self-destructive behaviors of a wide variety (and have been guilty of many myself). Now that my life is good, I would like those extra minutes/days/weeks I wasted back. I can't have them. They are gone. I have only now, and the unknown future ahead of me, to do the best I can until the inevitable happens.
My advice here is simple: when you smoke that cigarette, slam that shot, or use drugs (and the list of self-destructive behaviors is longer than I can list here) just remember...YOU WILL WANT THAT TIME BACK SOMEDAY...unfortunately, you can't have it again. It's gone.
Make today count. Please.
Osu!
Tuesday, May 02, 2006
How to Build a Technique
Here's a little metaphor I often consider...
We can consider techniques on many, many levels (the actual definition of "technique" is hard to make precise). One way that makes sense to me is to liken building my technique to building a house or other building.
The very first place is the foundation. Without a strong foundation, even house will fall in the slightest bad weather. This means that we train the kihon dosa until our legs and hips are strong, and out stance solid. This dachi is the foundation for all technique and under any circumstances, your feet should always return to kamae in order to maintain balance.
Usually, we find that when doing Jiyuwaza, once we start to lose the proper footwork of 180 degree turns and irimi of the hips, the rest of the techniques collapse. We begin to tilt or lean forward, and lose all the power. The loss of shisei is a direct result of the loss of dachi and no technique can manifest when that happens.
So it is important to consider how to make that foundation strong, and to always spend time in practice on the kihon dosa to give muscle memory to the movement of the feet and hips. Once this happens strongly and without the body rising up (actually the feeling should be one of sinking, not rising or floating) then we can begin to let the techniques manifest more fully and we will not get tired or lose kamae so easily.
Later, with a strong foundation, we can build a house of any size or shape. In particular, we can think of "zoning", a concept often used in JKD training, to divide angles of attack into different zones or quadrants. Western fencing also does this (and may be where Bruce Lee got it). Responding to zones is a lot easier than responding to specific attacks. We can also consider movement inside/outside of uke, high/medium/low zones for response, and other tactical elements, none of which work if the foundation of mobility is not strong.
Every martial art fundamentally needs the foundation of mobility in order to be effective, and Yoshinkan is no different. Please take time to work on this. It makes a big, big difference.
Osu!
We can consider techniques on many, many levels (the actual definition of "technique" is hard to make precise). One way that makes sense to me is to liken building my technique to building a house or other building.
The very first place is the foundation. Without a strong foundation, even house will fall in the slightest bad weather. This means that we train the kihon dosa until our legs and hips are strong, and out stance solid. This dachi is the foundation for all technique and under any circumstances, your feet should always return to kamae in order to maintain balance.
Usually, we find that when doing Jiyuwaza, once we start to lose the proper footwork of 180 degree turns and irimi of the hips, the rest of the techniques collapse. We begin to tilt or lean forward, and lose all the power. The loss of shisei is a direct result of the loss of dachi and no technique can manifest when that happens.
So it is important to consider how to make that foundation strong, and to always spend time in practice on the kihon dosa to give muscle memory to the movement of the feet and hips. Once this happens strongly and without the body rising up (actually the feeling should be one of sinking, not rising or floating) then we can begin to let the techniques manifest more fully and we will not get tired or lose kamae so easily.
Later, with a strong foundation, we can build a house of any size or shape. In particular, we can think of "zoning", a concept often used in JKD training, to divide angles of attack into different zones or quadrants. Western fencing also does this (and may be where Bruce Lee got it). Responding to zones is a lot easier than responding to specific attacks. We can also consider movement inside/outside of uke, high/medium/low zones for response, and other tactical elements, none of which work if the foundation of mobility is not strong.
Every martial art fundamentally needs the foundation of mobility in order to be effective, and Yoshinkan is no different. Please take time to work on this. It makes a big, big difference.
Osu!
Tuesday, April 25, 2006
Playing Like a Champion
Lots of little boys dream of being professional athletes.
Where I grew up, Chicago, we often dreamed of being baseball players,
just not with the hapless Chicago Cubs.
For me, though, the thought of being a professional athlete was often really scary.
I could not imagine standing in front of all those thousands of people and having to perform under that pressure. Even though as a professional speaker, I have done large presentations before (300 - 400 people) I still get the "butterflies". This is NOTHING compared to the feeling of having to sink the tournament winning putt, or score the overtime goal shot to win the Cup.
The pressure must be unbelievable. I have huge respect for those that can bear it.
The worst for me was to watch a batter fall into a slump. That's when you could really see their true character. You knew they didn't know why, but somehow ball and batt wouldn't meet. The last place they probably wanted to be was in the batter's box lining up, but they also know in their hearts that the batter's box was the only place their problem would ever really get solved.
The dojo can be a lot like this. The path is long, and has peaks and valleys. Sometimes we don't know why, and the blind faith in the training is all we have to guide us. Of course, the dojo is the only place these problems can be solved, too. We must keep the courage to continue training and trust that it will all become right over time. Our doubts will be replaced with the quiet confidence of achievement, and knowing, really knowing, that we CAN.
At the best of times, we students support each other and provide companionship along the path.
But never forget, that the answers can only come from your own training. Every part of you, mind, body, and spirit, has to come to an understanding; a Knowing. That can only happen with practice. Words alone will not suffice.
Hang in There. Before you know it you will be hitting home runs again.
Osu!
Where I grew up, Chicago, we often dreamed of being baseball players,
just not with the hapless Chicago Cubs.
For me, though, the thought of being a professional athlete was often really scary.
I could not imagine standing in front of all those thousands of people and having to perform under that pressure. Even though as a professional speaker, I have done large presentations before (300 - 400 people) I still get the "butterflies". This is NOTHING compared to the feeling of having to sink the tournament winning putt, or score the overtime goal shot to win the Cup.
The pressure must be unbelievable. I have huge respect for those that can bear it.
The worst for me was to watch a batter fall into a slump. That's when you could really see their true character. You knew they didn't know why, but somehow ball and batt wouldn't meet. The last place they probably wanted to be was in the batter's box lining up, but they also know in their hearts that the batter's box was the only place their problem would ever really get solved.
The dojo can be a lot like this. The path is long, and has peaks and valleys. Sometimes we don't know why, and the blind faith in the training is all we have to guide us. Of course, the dojo is the only place these problems can be solved, too. We must keep the courage to continue training and trust that it will all become right over time. Our doubts will be replaced with the quiet confidence of achievement, and knowing, really knowing, that we CAN.
At the best of times, we students support each other and provide companionship along the path.
But never forget, that the answers can only come from your own training. Every part of you, mind, body, and spirit, has to come to an understanding; a Knowing. That can only happen with practice. Words alone will not suffice.
Hang in There. Before you know it you will be hitting home runs again.
Osu!
"No Mind", not Mindless
Trying to keep an open mind is never easy. It is especially not easy when you are in the dojo. For me, it can be a place of refuge when the rest of my life is out of control; my little laboratory where I can test out what I want to improve in my life. Of course, it is never easy.
We often talk about "no mind" in zen practice. In fact, it even gets hacked up in bubble gum budo movies like "The Last Samurai". The reality is that learning to free our minds is about learning to let go...and this takes practice and repetition to achieve.
My original Zazen teacher used to say that doing zazen was anything but peaceful. He would say that if you do zazen correctly, you sweat from the mental exertion of trying so hard to let go and be "empty". He would say that the kyosaku (the stick used by the teacher to hit people doing zazen) was not just to wake you up and help you focus, but to remind you that the concious effort of trying to let go of distracting thoughts is a fight.
Many times I go into the dojo and get onto the mat trying hard not to think about what we are doing. Trying to let my body just DO what it knows how to do. Some days you get a glimpse of the Truth of Aikido, which is Freedom in Motion. Sometimes, you just suck. Today was the latter. "No Mind" was just "mindless". A total lack of focus. No kime. No zanshin.
Today I was disappointed. I could feel sensei wanting to take the training up a notch. I could feel the intensity, and it is almost a tangible thing. Your partner wants you to push them harder; they want to push you harder. Both of you are trying to get closer to the Truth. But I couldn't hold on. The distractions came and I could not be "in the moment". I could not let go. I just haven't been training enough lately and I disappointed my partner. That disappoints me.
Part of understading the "harmony" of Aiki is the fact that you and your partner are in a constant struggle to discover the Truth about who you are, especially in relation to each other, and in relation to the rest of the people in your lives. Our crucible, the dojo, magnifies our fear, our doubt, our anger, our frustration. It also magnifies our courage, our mercy, and our grace.
I am always sad when I miss a chance to find the magic - the connection to the training partner that brings both people closer to the Truth.
I will be ready next time. I won't let you down. We will find it toegether.
We often talk about "no mind" in zen practice. In fact, it even gets hacked up in bubble gum budo movies like "The Last Samurai". The reality is that learning to free our minds is about learning to let go...and this takes practice and repetition to achieve.
My original Zazen teacher used to say that doing zazen was anything but peaceful. He would say that if you do zazen correctly, you sweat from the mental exertion of trying so hard to let go and be "empty". He would say that the kyosaku (the stick used by the teacher to hit people doing zazen) was not just to wake you up and help you focus, but to remind you that the concious effort of trying to let go of distracting thoughts is a fight.
Many times I go into the dojo and get onto the mat trying hard not to think about what we are doing. Trying to let my body just DO what it knows how to do. Some days you get a glimpse of the Truth of Aikido, which is Freedom in Motion. Sometimes, you just suck. Today was the latter. "No Mind" was just "mindless". A total lack of focus. No kime. No zanshin.
Today I was disappointed. I could feel sensei wanting to take the training up a notch. I could feel the intensity, and it is almost a tangible thing. Your partner wants you to push them harder; they want to push you harder. Both of you are trying to get closer to the Truth. But I couldn't hold on. The distractions came and I could not be "in the moment". I could not let go. I just haven't been training enough lately and I disappointed my partner. That disappoints me.
Part of understading the "harmony" of Aiki is the fact that you and your partner are in a constant struggle to discover the Truth about who you are, especially in relation to each other, and in relation to the rest of the people in your lives. Our crucible, the dojo, magnifies our fear, our doubt, our anger, our frustration. It also magnifies our courage, our mercy, and our grace.
I am always sad when I miss a chance to find the magic - the connection to the training partner that brings both people closer to the Truth.
I will be ready next time. I won't let you down. We will find it toegether.
Monday, April 10, 2006
Take the Ukemi you never had
"it looks like it doesn't work" "they are going with it" "it wouldn't work on me" "there's no way they can make someone fly through the air like that"...
All are comments I have overheard from people watching a demo of Aikido. All are wrong, but worth addressing since they speak to the heart of what we are training in the dojo.
Let's start here: THERE IS NO UKEMI IN THE REAL AIKIDO
Shocked yet? I am NOT kidding. When you employ these techniques for real (meaning when you or your loved ones are under threat of injury), there is no ukemi for the person you do them to. It does not look flowery, graceful, or elegant. It works; they break. The End.
In some of the techniques (shiho nage kuzushi, hiji shime) we feel a gentle taste of what the real aikido must be like: a bone shattering stop to a very sudden drop. For others, we understand that changing the angle, adding atemi, dropping to the mat (like sumi otoshi), or combining sweeps with the movements mean there is no way out for uke. Only an idiot would allow an opponent an escape to a technique. The people who developed modern aikido fought for their lives in real combat - they were not fools. Trust me, it is there for uke's safety in the dojo.
The aikido we see on the mats gives uke a way out so we keep from injuring each other and can continue to train for the real aikido. I am glad to say that for the most part we have avoided injury in the dojo, although we are getting to the stage where it is more likely than before. In the beginning, we are largely incapable of harming ourselves and each other because we have literally no control over our bodies. At the brown belt level we are dangerous for having enough control and knowledge to apply a technique, but lacking the full control to execute it safely. Feeling confident, we end up hurting our training partner or ourselves. Now is the time to be especially careful.
Jiyuwaza is the hardest part of it all. People think even that is the real Aikido, but it is not. It is the closest our training can get, and in many ways extremely beneficial to our being able to do real aikido, but that is not it. If it were it would only be one technique in length and then uke would be unable to continue (if still alive).
So if we are not doing the real aikido, then what is the point?
By our training, we learn to control our bodies, learn to find distance, timing, balance, grace, speed, power, and all of the other characteristics that will help form the foundation of real aikido. Through the jiyuwaza practice we learn to center ourselves, control our fear/anxiety, and expand our sphere of consciousness. We learn to focus ourselves and to free our body. But this is still not the real aikido. It is only the steps to train for the real aikido.
Now, I am the very first one to say that our higher learning and study of martial arts should imbue us with ethical beliefs. That mans NOT breaking people into pieces unless we have no choice. However, let's not forget martial means MARTIAL. These techniques were designed for a purpose, and that purpose is to dispatch opponents swiftly, efficiently, and completely. Seagal-sensei's aikido is closer to what happens when you really use these techniques, which is precisely why I am against ever doing so except under the gravest of circumstances. To indescriminately injure others causes potentially permanent damage to our psyches as well. It is simply not worth doing unless there really is no other way.
So next time you do a technique in the dojo, silently be thankful to shite for putting uke there, and don't forget to take it. And never forget what these techniques are meant to do. We have dangerous stuff here, and dangerous stuff needs to be handled with care and respect.
And next time you watch an aikido demo, marvel at the skills and control of the people, be awed by their ability to safely show you a glimpse of the real aikido, and above all, be glad they don't injure anyone.
Osu!
All are comments I have overheard from people watching a demo of Aikido. All are wrong, but worth addressing since they speak to the heart of what we are training in the dojo.
Let's start here: THERE IS NO UKEMI IN THE REAL AIKIDO
Shocked yet? I am NOT kidding. When you employ these techniques for real (meaning when you or your loved ones are under threat of injury), there is no ukemi for the person you do them to. It does not look flowery, graceful, or elegant. It works; they break. The End.
In some of the techniques (shiho nage kuzushi, hiji shime) we feel a gentle taste of what the real aikido must be like: a bone shattering stop to a very sudden drop. For others, we understand that changing the angle, adding atemi, dropping to the mat (like sumi otoshi), or combining sweeps with the movements mean there is no way out for uke. Only an idiot would allow an opponent an escape to a technique. The people who developed modern aikido fought for their lives in real combat - they were not fools. Trust me, it is there for uke's safety in the dojo.
The aikido we see on the mats gives uke a way out so we keep from injuring each other and can continue to train for the real aikido. I am glad to say that for the most part we have avoided injury in the dojo, although we are getting to the stage where it is more likely than before. In the beginning, we are largely incapable of harming ourselves and each other because we have literally no control over our bodies. At the brown belt level we are dangerous for having enough control and knowledge to apply a technique, but lacking the full control to execute it safely. Feeling confident, we end up hurting our training partner or ourselves. Now is the time to be especially careful.
Jiyuwaza is the hardest part of it all. People think even that is the real Aikido, but it is not. It is the closest our training can get, and in many ways extremely beneficial to our being able to do real aikido, but that is not it. If it were it would only be one technique in length and then uke would be unable to continue (if still alive).
So if we are not doing the real aikido, then what is the point?
By our training, we learn to control our bodies, learn to find distance, timing, balance, grace, speed, power, and all of the other characteristics that will help form the foundation of real aikido. Through the jiyuwaza practice we learn to center ourselves, control our fear/anxiety, and expand our sphere of consciousness. We learn to focus ourselves and to free our body. But this is still not the real aikido. It is only the steps to train for the real aikido.
Now, I am the very first one to say that our higher learning and study of martial arts should imbue us with ethical beliefs. That mans NOT breaking people into pieces unless we have no choice. However, let's not forget martial means MARTIAL. These techniques were designed for a purpose, and that purpose is to dispatch opponents swiftly, efficiently, and completely. Seagal-sensei's aikido is closer to what happens when you really use these techniques, which is precisely why I am against ever doing so except under the gravest of circumstances. To indescriminately injure others causes potentially permanent damage to our psyches as well. It is simply not worth doing unless there really is no other way.
So next time you do a technique in the dojo, silently be thankful to shite for putting uke there, and don't forget to take it. And never forget what these techniques are meant to do. We have dangerous stuff here, and dangerous stuff needs to be handled with care and respect.
And next time you watch an aikido demo, marvel at the skills and control of the people, be awed by their ability to safely show you a glimpse of the real aikido, and above all, be glad they don't injure anyone.
Osu!
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
I think...I thought....I....
We always talk about circles in Aikido. Here's a big one to consider: We start by being unable to think, since we haven't even the most basic idea of what we are trying to do in the dojo. Next, we begin to think through everything, as if understanding with the mind could substitute for understanding with the body. However, in the end, we must return to nothingness - no thought.
Our learning follows a circular path, and we return to the place we started, but this time, with mastery, doing the techniques just as we would any other natural action, without thinking. Our goal is to no longer DO aikido, but to BE aikido.
Aikido is at once the most unnatural of motions, and yet also the most intuitive of motions.
Becuase as beginners we are unable to command our bodies, we move stiffly, and every motion requires an effort of will to effect. Later, we begin to dig deeper, and actually believe that our words will give us the insight our training has not yet delivered. But finally, we find the movements that were originally so challenging, are now no different that walking, standing, sitting, or any other action we normally take for granted. It is only by drilling the correct movements down into our instinct that we can free our minds of the unconcious desire to analyze and watch what we are doing.
In previous posts I have suggested training with a blindfold, since this develops awareness and sensistivity, and removes our reliance on looking at our feet and hands. Done properly, we should "feel" the location of our body (and uke's) in space relative to each other, and our motion should be based on that feeling. Sadly, the more you think about it, the less you can DO it.
I wish it were only that bad. To make it worse, when you are thinking or speaking or otherwise distracted, you cannot project KI, and without that all techniques fail to manifest properly anyway. The effort becomes frustrating and incomplete.
It is very easy to say "stop thinking", but that is like telling someone to get the words of a song they heard on the radio out of their head - no matter what you do they just keep coming back. Concentration and focus in the dojo are what help us learn to detach our over-analyzing natures, and make ourselves simple again. In this way, simple is good.
If you have to close your eyes - do. If you have to blindfold yourself - do. Whatever it takes, practice keeping your focus and projecting your energy, and LET GO. FLOW. Let your body be free to do what it knows how to do.
And then watch your skills go to the next level.
See you on the mats.
Our learning follows a circular path, and we return to the place we started, but this time, with mastery, doing the techniques just as we would any other natural action, without thinking. Our goal is to no longer DO aikido, but to BE aikido.
Aikido is at once the most unnatural of motions, and yet also the most intuitive of motions.
Becuase as beginners we are unable to command our bodies, we move stiffly, and every motion requires an effort of will to effect. Later, we begin to dig deeper, and actually believe that our words will give us the insight our training has not yet delivered. But finally, we find the movements that were originally so challenging, are now no different that walking, standing, sitting, or any other action we normally take for granted. It is only by drilling the correct movements down into our instinct that we can free our minds of the unconcious desire to analyze and watch what we are doing.
In previous posts I have suggested training with a blindfold, since this develops awareness and sensistivity, and removes our reliance on looking at our feet and hands. Done properly, we should "feel" the location of our body (and uke's) in space relative to each other, and our motion should be based on that feeling. Sadly, the more you think about it, the less you can DO it.
I wish it were only that bad. To make it worse, when you are thinking or speaking or otherwise distracted, you cannot project KI, and without that all techniques fail to manifest properly anyway. The effort becomes frustrating and incomplete.
It is very easy to say "stop thinking", but that is like telling someone to get the words of a song they heard on the radio out of their head - no matter what you do they just keep coming back. Concentration and focus in the dojo are what help us learn to detach our over-analyzing natures, and make ourselves simple again. In this way, simple is good.
If you have to close your eyes - do. If you have to blindfold yourself - do. Whatever it takes, practice keeping your focus and projecting your energy, and LET GO. FLOW. Let your body be free to do what it knows how to do.
And then watch your skills go to the next level.
See you on the mats.
Monday, March 13, 2006
Elbows and Knees; Knees and Elbows
The other day, someone asked me what to present as a uniqueness of Yoshinkan.
Having done a variety of aiki styles in the past, I would have to say that apart from the usual things everyone says (focus on practicality, efficient motion, mastry of the basics, etc.) there are two things that really stand out in my mind as being strongly emphasized in Yoshinkan (at least more than in other styles I have seen): Knees and Elbows.
In Yoshinkan, the knees are critical. It is precisely the use of the knees that allows us to start Uke's motion moving and prepare for the shifting of our hips and body weight. When we fail to use the knees, we end up disconnecting our hips and are forced to compensate with strength of the arms instead of strength of the hips/whole body. Knees help cause Uke to cross the centerline in techniques like Shomen uchi Ikkajo Osae 2 and knees help guide uke to the mat without letting our body weight come up. In short, they are a vital connection of uke to our hip and to the floor, and anchor and a lever to move uke by shifting our weight. Without the knee movement, however, we cannot transfer the hip power efficiently (if at all).
Elbows are another key differentiator between Yoshinkan and other styles.
In Yoshinkan, we like to control Uke's balance through controlling uke's shoulder, and one of the most effective and important ways to do this is via Uke's elbow. The circular "rowing" motion of Ikkajo and Yonkajo are both specifically designed to use the wrist to elbow to shoulder pathway to control uke's body, and Yoshinkan is one of the few styles that actually grabs the elbow to manipulate it (many styles focus on wrist more than elbow and fail to connect to uke's shoulder as a consequence). Of course, techniques like hiji shime go without saying that the elbow is a central part of the technique.
One of the best places to work on this is during the basic tai no henko and hiriki no yosei movements, which are specifically designed to help us practice these two vital points. I suggest doing the motions slowly, paying particular attention to how you use your elbows and knees, since these will manifest during all of the other techniques.
So in closing, I suggest specifically visualizing the movement of your knees and elbows before training, and see if it doesn't tighten up your technique and give you a greater sense of control, which is what Yoshinkan is all about: control of yourself and control of Uke.
Osu!
John
Having done a variety of aiki styles in the past, I would have to say that apart from the usual things everyone says (focus on practicality, efficient motion, mastry of the basics, etc.) there are two things that really stand out in my mind as being strongly emphasized in Yoshinkan (at least more than in other styles I have seen): Knees and Elbows.
In Yoshinkan, the knees are critical. It is precisely the use of the knees that allows us to start Uke's motion moving and prepare for the shifting of our hips and body weight. When we fail to use the knees, we end up disconnecting our hips and are forced to compensate with strength of the arms instead of strength of the hips/whole body. Knees help cause Uke to cross the centerline in techniques like Shomen uchi Ikkajo Osae 2 and knees help guide uke to the mat without letting our body weight come up. In short, they are a vital connection of uke to our hip and to the floor, and anchor and a lever to move uke by shifting our weight. Without the knee movement, however, we cannot transfer the hip power efficiently (if at all).
Elbows are another key differentiator between Yoshinkan and other styles.
In Yoshinkan, we like to control Uke's balance through controlling uke's shoulder, and one of the most effective and important ways to do this is via Uke's elbow. The circular "rowing" motion of Ikkajo and Yonkajo are both specifically designed to use the wrist to elbow to shoulder pathway to control uke's body, and Yoshinkan is one of the few styles that actually grabs the elbow to manipulate it (many styles focus on wrist more than elbow and fail to connect to uke's shoulder as a consequence). Of course, techniques like hiji shime go without saying that the elbow is a central part of the technique.
One of the best places to work on this is during the basic tai no henko and hiriki no yosei movements, which are specifically designed to help us practice these two vital points. I suggest doing the motions slowly, paying particular attention to how you use your elbows and knees, since these will manifest during all of the other techniques.
So in closing, I suggest specifically visualizing the movement of your knees and elbows before training, and see if it doesn't tighten up your technique and give you a greater sense of control, which is what Yoshinkan is all about: control of yourself and control of Uke.
Osu!
John
Friday, February 24, 2006
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!
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!
Friday, February 17, 2006
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!
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!
Thursday, February 09, 2006
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 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.
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.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
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!
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!
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