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<blogEntry id="3680">
	<title><![CDATA[A hard question: what do you want?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A friend of mine, and a senior student at the dojo I attend asked me several weeks ago what I want from my training. I gave him an answer at the time, but I'm not really satisfied with it. In the intervening month or so, I've continued to think about the question. As my blog posts over the past year indicate, I've been coming to terms with a new paradigm at a new dojo. The result has been a bit of frustration and a lot of confusion over the past year -- confusion that has been exacerbated by some big events that have cut into my training time. First, a bit of background and a caveat. 

The background: 

In December of last year I started training at a new dojo, Itten Dojo in Mechanicsburg PA, that is much closer to my home than the one I had trained at for the previous nine years, Susquehanna Aikido in York PA. Proximity is one-half the reason I switched. The other half is that Itten Dojo is implementing Ellis Amdur's aikido training concepts, and I've been fascinated by them since I attended one of Ellis's seminars several years ago. I still heartily recommend my old dojo to people looking for Aikido near York. If you want Aikikai/AAA style aikido, there are few (if any) places as good in Central PA. However, if you want to follow Ellis's deconstruction of Aikido, there is no other place than Itten dojo. Simultaneously, I started training in toho iaido at Itten Dojo. At this point, everything was new: new paradigm for aikido, internal strength training, and new sword work. Lastly, my wife is pregnant with our second child and I figured out around June that I really needed to cut back on my training to take care of Robin and get the house ready for the next child, so I'm currently on a sabbatical from aikido, focusing only on iaido until after the new baby is born.

That's the background, now the caveat: 

In the next several paragraphs I'm going to touch on the meaning of aikido, its history, and its relationship to internal strength training. I'm probably not going to write anything that hasn't been written before by people with a lot more experience than I. This fact, more than anything else, has kept me from writing about this topic sooner. There's really nothing very original I can add to Ellis's book, "Hidden in Plain Sight," or Peter's series of articles on "Transmission, Inheritance, and Emulation," or even to the myriad of posts by Mike Sigman, Dan Harden, etc. What I can do, I think, is offer the perspective of somebody with middling experience trying to sort through all the upheaval (or at least this most recent upheaval) in the aikido world.

So, what do I want out of my training? If you had asked me a few years ago, I would have replied that I really wanted to be good in the curriculum of an Aikikai-affiliated school like the AAA. The lineage and affiliation really mattered to me at the time. But I don't train in a vacuum, and after being exposed to different ways of thinking about aikido, I started to question my own training and my reliance on catching my attacker's timing to generate kuzushi. Furthermore, my idea of leading in aikido was more like leaning. Add into the mix the fact that I wasn't training as much as I used to because work and family made it harder to set aside the time for the 40 minute one-way drive to the dojo. The result was I wasn't getting any better; actually, I was starting to get worse. But even if I was good, I was good at a narrow range of skills in a specific context. I felt I was missing something and I sort of knew what it was after seeing Ellis at a few seminars and reading his posts on Aikido Journal's web site. Then I started reading Peter's columns and before long, I was starting to understand that aikido was not historically what I thought it was.

Okay, to quickly answer any detractors I'll restate the above: my aikido was not what I thought it was. However, I didn't dream this stuff up on my own. The handbook from the AAA, the stuff I learned at seminars, and books like "The Spirit of Aikido" all shaped my concept of aikido. Then I learned that aikido is not about love and reconciliation in the Western sense of the words, and that O Sensei didn't really try to teach his aikido, so his top students all ended up with different stuff. I'm simplifying greatly. If you want more read Peter's columns, Ellis's books, and Stan Prannin's Aikido Journal. The point is that the aikido mythoogy is on somewhat shaky ground as far as I'm concerned, and it really does not justify the training focus on timing/blending being the primary kuzushi.

So I knew I did not want to keep doing what I had been doing. So I started learning the taikyoku kuzushi, going to Wednesday internal strength training sessions, and studying toho iaido (to get my fix of weapons work). I accepted with eagerness and equanimity the fact that I am a beginner again. I worked on the new stuff with as much of a blank and open mind as possible. This has been awkward at times. I make stupid mistakes because I'm trying to do what I see without defaulting to previous ways of doing ukumi or waza. The result is that I look and feel even less coordinated than rank beginners. But I started to make progress. 

And then I overloaded, and after that I got frustrated. The big issue for me was not general frustration over being new at everything all at once. The big issue was the conceptual framework I put my training into. Any martial art (including "gun-do," which is the one art I happen to have more than passing skill in), has a series of assumptions and values that drive training choices, methodologies, technique, etc. I thought I had a pretty universal framework, called "aikido," that guided my training. Now, for several reasons, that framework wasn't standing up and I had nothing to replace it with -- rather, I have a replacement, but it is so different from what I've trained in before that it calls into question the whole definition/concept of "aikido." 

So instead of being good at "aikido," whatever that is, I'll try to answer my sempai's question: what do I want?

My sabbatical in aikido training will end toward the end of winter after life goes back to a new crazy with a four-year-old and a newborn in the house. I have a little time to revise this list, but here goes:

1) I want to continue to be active and healthier. This isn't exactly a training goal, but I need to be in as good a shape as possible so I can kick ass if I need to.

2) I want to be able to kick ass. I need for my punches to hurt, for my kicks to be good, and for my newaza to be good enough that I can pin and choke somebody if I need to.

3) I want to move in a coordinated fashion and develop internal strength.

4) I want to develop my skill with the taikyoku kuzushi to the point where it's my vehicle for expressing internal power in aikido waza

5) I want to be able to respond to unexpected energy (push, punch, etc) in a grounded manner, with immediate kuzushi of my attacker, at the moment of contact.

6) I want to get to the point where I have choices in my aikido waza whether or not to use atemi (but knowing it is there and how to use it) -- whether and when to pin, choke, maim, kill, or let down as softly as a feather and be able to do each choice.

7) I want the same body coordination and internal strength to feed into the sword training and for the sword skills to inform my empty hand work.

I don't know if this is aikido, but it's what I want.]]></body>
	<date>10-23-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3572">
	<title><![CDATA[The missing key to aikido...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Sometimes I need to quote myself. Yesterday I wrote in a thread about what's missing in aikido:

Peter's series of articles on "Transmission, Inheritance, Emulation" (best to start at the beginning: http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/showthread.php?filter[1]=Peter%20Goldsbury&t=12008) deals precisely with questions of what aikido was for O Sensei and he passed it on to his students.

From what I've read, I don't think we can assume that O Sensei was concerned about his students being able to replicate exactly what he was doing. I'm also not convinced that the ranks he gave correlated all that well with the students' ability to demonstrate a deep understanding of aikido as O Sensei saw it.

I don't doubt that his students were darned good martial artists. Nor do I doubt that many of them got an appreciation for internal skills. It's just that (based on what I've read by Ellis and Peter), O Sensei didn't have transmission of the art as his primary goal. Rather, aikido was a religious expression for O Sensei, who saw himself as a shaman dedicated to the divinity of the Japanese emperor because of his understanding of Japanese creation myths, and (at least until his move to Iwama in 1942) who was tightly associated with right-wing militarism. O Sensei saw the power of aikido coming from the kotodama -- which contains mystical word-sounds with innate power. O Sensei did not see it as his responsibility to explicitly teach what he was doing, nor did he expect his students to adopt his religious views. It was enough for them to study aikido and master what they could.

So this leads to a very fundamental question: what is aikido? Or to put it more carefully, what characteristics should an art have to be considered aikido?

O Sensei's approach seemed to result in a messy hodgepodge of "stuff" comprising aikido that really only made complete sense to him. The first thing his senior students and his son seemed to do was somehow create a system of techniques and principles for what they learned so that aikido could be taught more efficiently. That seems to be the problem. The conventional wisdom is that O Sensei's son "watered down" aikido when he developed a standard curriculum. Yet it seems that what most people consider to be "aikido" is much closer to the standard curricula developed by Tohei, Saito, or Kisshomaru Ueshiba than what O Sensei was doing.

Whatever aikido is, people seem to agree that O Sensei and his direct students had it (or some version of it), and could demonstrate powerful technique. Even generations removed, lots of people have used their training successfully in violent encounters -- I have twice.

But if we're doing some version of aikido one or more generations removed from O Sensei's aikido, are we even doing aikido? Do we even want to do O Sensei's aikido? Is it possible to do O Sensei's aikido without also adopting O Sensei's religious and cultural views? Finally, is there some sort of empirical way to know when or if we're doing O Sensei's aikido? Is it only strong, effective technique, or is there something mystical we should understand?

I've posed a lot of the questions to Peter, who implied that he'll deal with many of them in future articles. For my own part, I'm convinced that the internal strength skills are an essential part of aikido. Beyond that, even after almost ten years of study, I'm not sure what exactly makes aikido different from other arts or how to precisely define aikido. I know the definition goes beyond the form of certain techniques. But other than that, I'm somewhat stumped.]]></body>
	<date>07-23-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3554">
	<title><![CDATA[A brush with mortality...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My father spent a few days in the hospital with heart problems this week. His bypass from ten years ago is starting to fail. Dad is doing better now (as I write this). He's home and about to embark on a new regimen of medications. The end result was a scary week, but a good prognosis.

But all this got me thinking about death. I train in large part because it's fun, but also to learn an effective way to defend myself if the need arises. Yet being diabetic and overweight, I'm far more likely to die from heart disease or a complication from the diabetes than I am from some sort of violent encounter. Hell, a car accident is more likely to take me out than a mugger or home invader.

But there's only so much I can control. Training does nothing more than help give me an edge -- or at least improved odds -- in the event of a violent encounter.  The same thing with driving: I can do a lot to improve my odds of not getting in a car accident (be alert, don't speed, don't talk on the phone when I drive), but all that does is improve my odds, not guarantee survival.

I need to take the same approach to my health. My diet and exercise regimen has helped me lose 70 pounds (so far) and get off my diabetes meds, but that level of effort takes dedication and a willingness to continue even when it gets hard. It's very much like a "do" of its own. 

I need to continue to approach my health like an extension of my training: just keep doing it as often and as well as possible. That way I can improve my odds for survival.]]></body>
	<date>07-17-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3529">
	<title><![CDATA[The lure of violence?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Every so often, I wonder why I study martial arts -- not why I study aikido or iaido, but fundamentally why I'm attracted to the arts. For that matter, most of my hobbies are centered on war and conflict. I like building scale models (mostly of warplanes), I play board war games, I study history and military history and write magazine articles about those subjects, I like going to airshows and visiting warship museums, and I regularly compete in high power rifle competitions. 

To be sure, I'm not completely off balance. :) I've got hobbies that aren't related to war or human conflict. I love baseball and regularly go to our local minor league team's games. I'm a huge Penn State football fan. I'm on my church's council. I'm also a computer geek and write magazine articles on Linux. For that matter, I enjoy my work and love learning more about my profession. Naturally, I enjoy my family and participating in the things that are important to my wife and child.

But still, war, conflict, and violence are implicit in a lot of my activities. My personality and temperament are such that I tend to embrace conflict. Healthy debate and sincere disagreement/engagement over something important energizes me. At the same time, I profoundly dislike violence. I've used my training in real situations twice so far -- both times I felt good about the way I handled myself and my opponent, but regretted that physical force had been necessary. I love a good fictional fight scene, but I know that reality is not so wonderful and empowering. The fights I've been in have resulted in a horrible empty feeling after the adrenalin is gone.

I love conflict but abhor violence. I am fascinated by war, but appalled by it. I study to be as good as I can be at killing and maiming other people, but fervently hope I never need to do so. I believe strongly that we should live lives based on grace, healing, and forgiveness, but I'm prepared to kill to protect myself and my family. Why?

For one thing, these paradoxes aren't unique to me. I'll bet that a good majority of martial artists head home after practice from time to time thinking about the paradox of how much fun it is to practice techniques that could kill or seriously injure somebody else. 

Given all of that, why do I study martial arts. A couple of good reasons spring to mind:

1) It's cool. Seriously. There is something very satisfying about training one's body and mind in this manner. I'd actually lump the shooting in with aikido and iaido here. All three arts take skill, a lot of practice, efficiency of movement, and discipline. The equipment is pretty cool too. It is ironic, but understandable, that technological advances tend to be made or deployed first for war, and then for civil applications.

2) Familiarity breeds respect. Somewhere deep in my psyche is lodged an ethic that it is better to face something unpleasant and threatening than run from it. (That ethic is closely bound to the one that states that the best things in life come from hard work.) The martial arts teach me to put injury and death -- and therefore all sorts of other unpleasant things -- into some perspective. The arts provide a discipline and framework to help understand how and why violence happens and what to do about it.

3) Camaraderie. Like I said, I'm not terribly unique, and it is a joy to work out with folks who have a similar fascination with the arts and a similar (and often greater) dedication to training.]]></body>
	<date>06-17-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3513">
	<title><![CDATA[Internal strength training makes me sore...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My schedule is somewhat flaky right now, but I plan for, and manage to attend, at least two internal strength classes each month. I must be starting to learn a little bit because I'm getting sore after that training despite the fact that it's not particularly strenuous. Most of the soreness was in my legs, lower trapezius, and upper lats.

My particular challenge right now is to get much better at the taikyoku kuzushi body movements [I]and[/I] learn how to incorporate the internal strength principles and movements I'm practicing into the taikyoku kuzushi -- and ultimately into my waza.]]></body>
	<date>06-02-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3496">
	<title><![CDATA[Leading with my center does not work...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This is where the rubber hits the road -- as the tired cliche goes -- stuff that I've been doing for a while isn't working anymore. I'm starting to learn why. 

Put simply, it's this: my concept of "moving from my center,"  or "leading with my center" doesn't work. I learned how off I've been in a recent class where we were working on establishing the center to center connection and then throwing. I'm not bad at establishing the center to center connection, but when I go to throw, I move my center to where I want uke to go -- thereby severing the connection! I think this is why (and how) I have a tendency to lean when throwing _and_ why I tend to "bear down" when I throw by using my mass instead of my center.

In the past, I think I was guiding uke and ahead of him, but not really leading. My throws relied more on timing and momentum than true connection. This is not necessarily bad. Being able to catch timing and use momentum is a great skill, but it is not a complete skill set in itself.

I seem to need a weapons-related metaphor to help me visualize a concept. The best I can come up with right now is that the center to center connection should be like that in jo-nage or jo-dori. With jo-nage, the attacker and thrower are separated by three or so feet of wooden stick, so to throw successfully the thrower needs to have a good connection that leads from his own center  _through_ the attacker's center.]]></body>
	<date>05-18-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3490">
	<title><![CDATA[Iaido and aikido: received vs. earned wisdom]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I started studying iaido in December. So far, training generally consists of paired kata and exercises with bokken and solo kata with shinken (real, sharp swords). Last night's class was entirely with shinken. Although I studied aiki-ken and aiki-jo (based a lot on Saito's curriculum), there was very little carry-over from my previous experience to iaido. Not being able to rely on my previous experience means it is a lot easier to approach iaido training with a fresh, open mind. As a result, I'm seeing my aikido training, and the crossover from  sword to empty-hand, from a different perspective. 

This gets to the difference between received wisdom -- something we learn based on others' experiences -- and earned wisdom, which our own experiences create and reinforce. Good learning requires a careful mix between the two. One needs both a teacher to demonstrate proper technique, and many thousands of repetitions of actual practice to become proficient. The interplay between received and earned wisdom happens in the constant iterations of practicing and getting corrected and then working on the corrections during practice.

With that in mind, _what_ one practices is as important as _how_ one practices. I strongly believe that there needs to be some empirical validity to one's practice, otherwise one could learn to perfectly perform techniques that don't work. This is especially true in the relationship among aikido, the sword arts, and aiki-ken.

In my previous dojo, we never, ever professed to be learning an actual sword art. We knew there were differences between aiki-ken and the koryu sword arts. We understood aiki-ken to be a series of sword movements and techniques designed to emphasize the fundamentals of aikido. That's fair enough as far as it goes, but I was always a little dissatisfied by aiki-ken practice. The logic seemed circular to me. If aikido has many basic principles of movement and technique derived from sword, then why study a sword system derived from aikido? This approach seems to reinforce the received wisdom without offering the opportunity for earned wisdom. There was no way to test the sword part of aiki-ken independent of aikido. 

To me, the situation with aiki-ken is a lot like learning languages. People who study foreign languages find that the study helps them immensely with their native languages. I studied German in high school and college. English shares common roots with German and the similarities in vocabulary and grammar between the two are striking. Learning German helped me become better at speaking and writing in English. I don't think that learning a subset of German designed to highlight fundamental principles in English would have helped me to the same degree that becoming fluent in German helped.

Wouldn't it be better to learn a sword art as its own discipline and experience the crossover between sword and aikido in a more authentic manner? I'm fortunate to train in a dojo that offers both aikido and iaido as separate arts, but with conscious attention to the fundamentals they share. I'm learning that the important fundamentals are not in the gross movements, but in the subtle and precise attention to detail: efficiency in movement; the difference between stepping back and sinking back; a little drop in center used to power the sword cut; and the proper attitude during kata. These are the some of the fundamentals of sword (as I understand it so far), and I have no doubt that becoming fluent in sword will help me become more fluent in aikido.]]></body>
	<date>04-28-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3487">
	<title><![CDATA[What aikido means to me...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I posted the following in response to a thread asking how aikido might have changed my life: 

When I first started aikido in 1999, I read a lot about the spiritual aspects of the practice and aikido's status as a "do" or spiritual way. What I got from reading this board, Aikio Journal's web site, and books like "Budo" by O Sensei, "The Spirit of Aikido" by Kisshomaru Ueshiba, and "The Magic of Conflict" by Thomas Crum was the ideal of aikido as a metaphor for conflict.

The idea of aikido presenting a third option to either fighting or running away appealed to me. I particularly liked the concept that one needs to establish a connection with an attacker in order to properly execute a technique, and that the more committed the attack and throw, the better. Conversely, if two (or more) people only tentatively engage, then true conflict resolution is very difficult.

That concept has helped me a lot. I'm 35 now, but when I was 25, I tended to be a lot more rigid in my thinking about the "right way" and "wrong way" to do things, which made personal relationships rather difficult at times. Learning to apply the idea of establishing a connection first and then being receptive to my opponent's arguments actually made it a lot easier for me to get along and stay happier. That attitude has helped me to respond to arguments with my wife, attacks from my former boss, and tantrums from my 3-year-old by saying, "I understand you're frustrated by ..." (establishing the connection) "...now please hear my point of view."

My actual aikido practice, both at my first school and the one I joined six months ago, tends to be more of the "hard" style with a lot of emphasis on atemi, strong attacks as uke, and good off-balancing and control of uke by nage. The schools differ (often greatly) on the technical details, but the attitudes are remarkably similar. I personally feel that the "aiki-bunny" attitudes I express above are really only worthwhile if you've got strong, effective skills to back them up.

Finally, I think I've had a little disillusionment with aikido over the years, although that's not necessarily a bad thing. I initially bought in to a lot of the stuff that O Sensei was quoted as saying about aikido being the expression of a loving, universal god or some sort of universal truth about relationships. However, in the past several years there's been a lot of excellent analysis by Stan Prannin, Peter Goldsbury, and Ellis Amdur that provides a lot of the historical and cultural context of O Sensei's development of aikido, his religious beliefs, and the post-war development of aikido.

The historical analysis revealed that aikido is not necessarily the cross-cultural, feel-good, lovey-dovey art of peaceful reconciliation that it seems to be on the surface. On one hand, aikido is a martial art based on the concept of loving protection of all living things that seeks to protect one's attacker from harm by blending with his attack and controlling it. On the other hand, aikido was a religious expression of O Sensei who saw himself as a shaman dedicated to the divinity of the Japanese emperor and associate with right-wing militarism.

I'm not saying that aikido doesn't have the lovey-dovey stuff, I just think it's a lot harder to project onto aikido the relativist notions of universal love and tolerance and the expression of love as "soft" technique when one knows more about aikido's history and development. In short, I'm a lot less likely to see O Sensei as a saint, and much more likely to appreciate him as a man.

P.S., I sought out aikido for a number of reasons. I learned about it as a kid from a mixture of Steven Segal movies, AD&D, and GI Joe comics! :) I decided to start training as an adult when I felt I needed a way to protect myself that bridged the gap between running away from an attacker and shooting him. During my practice, I've found an art that is deep, rich, and immensely rewarding. It offers effective self-defense, but also a lot more.]]></body>
	<date>04-24-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3482">
	<title><![CDATA[On weight loss and aikido...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've been attending Weight Watchers meetings since September of 2007 -- only ever missing one weekly weigh-in. I've lost 70 pounds so far, and I'm much healthier.

What does this have to do with aikido? Two things really: (1) aikido by itself isn't necessarily a great form of exercise and (2) weight loss itself is a kind of "do" or way, much like aikido.

Point one may end up being controversial, but my experience was that, while aikido training raised my overall level of fitness and flexibility, it did nothing to help me loose weight. Part of the reason is that classes typically consist of periods of somewhat intense exercise followed by periods of rest that are long enough for me to completely catch my breath. One's level of effort is not sustained. Additionally, over time, we get better and more efficient in our movements so that doing the work takes a lot less effort. 

The end result for me was better overall fitness, but not a whole bunch of calories burned during aikido practice. In almost a decade of practice, I consistently gained weight or stayed the same.

In some ways I had it backwards. A lot of people start eating better and then figure out they need to exercise. I was exercising, but figured out that I need to eat better. That's where point 2 becomes important. I've had the success I've had so far because I'm treating my weight loss (and eventual maintenance) as a lifestyle change. It is sort of a "weight loss-do." There's no way I can make long-lasting changes in my health and weight if I don't make long-lasting behavioral changes.

I've had some good weeks and bad weeks. I've even had a series of bad months -- but they were never that bad, and the trend has been down all along.]]></body>
	<date>04-15-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3472">
	<title><![CDATA[Removing strength from my waza...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I attended my first aikido class following my dojo's second seminar with Mike Sigman. I did not attend the seminar, so I was anxious to hear what my fellow students and our instructor thought. Evidently, Mike Sigman was impressed with the amount of work the people at my dojo have done in the past year and all parties felt the seminar was very productive. Having just joined the dojo last December, I'm really just getting my feet wet with the internal skills, but I'm encouraged to hear that the people I'm learning from are doing it well.

So during the first class after the seminar, our instructor emphasized some of the things that Mike highlighted. I was astounded! So much of what our instructor said is stuff that I'd been hearing numerous times during training for nine years at my previous dojo: create kuzushi by moving the the third point of the triangle (with the other two points being uke's feet); move from the center; unify the body don't break it; relax!  The difference is not in the concept, but the execution. 

Here I will focus on what I do, not necessarily how I was taught because I'm more than willing to take responsibility for my own training mistakes. :-) My previous dojo had ki-society roots through Toyoda Shihan's association as a student of Koichi Tohei. We learned Tohei's "Four Basic Principles to Unify Mind and Body":

[quote]
1.	Keep One Point: this is the natural place of physical, mental and spiritual balance. By concentrating on our one point and keeping correct posture we naturally coordinate mind and body.

2.	Relax Completely: When we calm our mind, our body naturally relaxes. By keeping one point, mind and body relax completely, releasing all stress and tension.

3.	Keep Weight Underside: The weight of an object naturally settles to its lowest point. Living calmness is a state where the weight of our body naturally settles underside. When we relax completely we can always remain calm.

4.	Extend Ki: Ki is living power. Extending Ki is to utilize our living power to the fullest extent. By focusing our mind and body we can live a healthy and vigorous life.
[/quote]

Okay, that's what I learned I should be doing, but what I ended up doing did not always work out that way. I would tend to float up above uke and use my mass to power through technique -- something that doesn't work well with good attackers. When I wasn't doing that, I would rely on timing to provide my kuzushi. 

Tuesday's practice was a mini-revelation because we practiced how to achieve those things, and what it really means to relax, keep one point, keep weight underside, and extend ki -- even if we're not describing our practice in those terms.

For the first time at my new dojo, I felt that I was on very familiar ground -- but seeing it from a new perspective. 


Finally, in the Aikiweb thread following the first Sigman-Itten Dojo seminar last year,  Jim Sorrentino posted the following excerpt from Stan Pranin's interview with Seishiro Endo-sensei in Aikido Journal #106 (quoted below). 

It will take a lot of training and retraining, but I expect to get to the point where my instructor is now, in that I show him the way I did an AAA kihon waza and he shows me how to apply the principles we're practicing to it so it will work without all the work-arounds and adaptations I had trained into my technique. The end result looks very much like what I consider traditional kihon waza, but feels much more powerful.

[quote]
AJ: I understand your aikido underwent a change as you entered your 30s?

Endo: When I was 30 years old I dislocated my right shoulder. That event brought me to a turning point. Seigo Yamaguchi said to me, "You've been doing aikido for 10 years now, but now you have only your left arm to use, what are you going to do? Up to then I hadn't trained very much under Yamaguchi Sensei, but after he said that I made it a point to get to his classes as much as possible. I started to realize how much I was relying on the strength in my upper arms and body during training. I asked myself whether I could go on doing aikido like that for the rest of my life. Yamaguchi Sensei's question was just the thing to send me into a tailspin, into the next level of training that I needed to pursue. I took the opportunity to turn my approach to aikido around 180 degrees. I'm sure everybody remembers being told on at least one occasion to "take the strength out of your shoulders." Yamaguchi Sensei also talked about this - about doing aikido without relying on strength. It's more easily said than done, of course. When you try taking the strength out of your shoulders, it often happens that your ki goes with it! That's to be expected.

You might draw an analogy with learning to ski. When you follow a skilled teacher you seem to improve rapidly and to swish smoothly down the slopes. But things start to fall apart the moment you try skiing on your own with no teacher to guide you. I experienced something similar in trying to rid my aikido of strength. I could do it when Yamaguchi Sensei was around, but as soon as I went somewhere else, I found myself suddenly incapable. It was very frustrating and I'd always end up falling back on powering my way through techniques. I struggled with that problem for nearly six months.

I think it was Shinran [1173-1263, founder of the Jodoshin sect of Pure Land Buddhism] who said, "Even if what my teacher Honen tells me seems mistaken; even if it seems I am being misled, I have absolute faith in what I have been doing and so I follow my master's way, even if it leads to Hell." I thought, well, why not? If I'm going to be misled by Yamaguchi Sensei then so be it! Yamaguchi Sensei told me the same thing, "Even if you don't understand it, just take my word for it and do it. Just give it 10 years or so." So that's what I did. Rather than trying to get rid of strength and then falling back on it when the techniques didn't work, I resolved to explore the no-strength way exclusively, no matter what. But, even though I'd made up my own mind, the training environment hadn't changed. It didn't take long to realize that my training partners weren't simply going to fall for me when I tried throwing them without using strength.

I had no alternative but to say to them, "Look, I can't really do these techniques right now, but can I ask you fall anyway?" It was a highly unusual thing for a 4th dan to ask. People were a bit surprised. Anyway, that's how I began my "squishy" approach to training. I took extreme care to avoid getting frustrated, because I knew that doing so would send me right back to relying on strength. When I was taking ukemi for Yamaguchi Sensei he would murmur things under his breath like, "The more you let go of your strength, the more your ki will concentrate," and "Focus your strength in your lower abdomen." I tried to remain acutely aware of what was going on when taking ukemi, no matter what was done to me, and after a few years I began to understand what he was talking about and what he was doing. I knew I had finally found an approach to training that would work for me.

From then on I worked to intensify that feeling by doing one technique exclusively for a certain period of time. For example, I would do nothing but shomenuchi ikkyo for six months, no matter what dojo I was at. Training like that gave me a deeper understanding of each technique. It helped me realize how to approach each technique in different situations, and also how the principles from one technique could be applied to other techniques. When I'm teaching these days, I often say things like, "Look closely at yourself and feel what you're doing," or "Feel your partner and know the relationship between yourself and your partner." By self I mean both your state of mind and the physical balance of your body, as well as the relationship between the two. There's an expression, "mind, technique, and body are one" (shingitai itchi). When your mind is in disarray, your body isn't able to move efficiently and effectively. Likewise an unbalanced body can agitate your mind to the point where you will be unable to correctly understand your relationship with your partner, and this will prevent you from doing the technique you need to do. Once you've made the initial encounter (deai), shifted your body appropriately (taisabaki), and unbalanced your partner (kuzushi), it is essential to then instantly perceive what technique will naturally spring into being given the set of conditions emerging between the two of you.

O-Sensei talked about "becoming One with the Cosmos" or "being at one with Nature." One way to interpret this is that, rather than simply forcing your way through techniques according to your own one-sided will, you should perceive what techniques come into being naturally. That is, the techniques that arise naturally, given the relationship between you and your partner. We usually learn aikido by going through the techniques one by one, repeatedly practicing whatever the teacher shows us. That means we have to do that particular technique no matter what, even if it involves unnecessary effort and movements that don't arise entirely naturally. It's important to be able to monitor yourself and recognize such unnatural effort. You need to be perceptive and objective enough to say to yourself, for example, "My last technique was good, but the meeting (deai) between my partner and me is no longer working." It's important to constantly check yourself to make sure you maintain an awareness of whether or not the movements you're doing are truly natural ones.

It was only after I began training without using any strength at all that I was able to instantly change whatever technique I happened to be doing into some other technique. It makes sense, of course, that the less effort there is involved, the easier it is to switch to something else. As I was working through that concept, I also recalled that O-Sensei often used to say, "When it's like this, you do this, when it's like this other way, you do this other thing," all the while never doing the same thing twice. I thought, "Ah, I think I know what he meant by that!" With that sort of approach you never end up using excessive effort because one thing simply changes into another as needed.

Imagine a river full of stones. When the water encounters small stones it flows over them. When it encounters larger ones it flows around them. Even if you dam the river the water doesn't really stop; the potential energy is still there swirling around and building up behind the dam, trying to break through or spill over the top. Aikido is the same. It's no longer a "living" path if you limit yourself to meeting an encounter with a specific technique. It's important to be able to change and move on to something else the instant the conditions change and what you're doing ceases to have the desired effect. It's not just a matter of flowing into something different when you find yourself blocked; it's also necessary to investigate how to "store up energy." We all have possibilities we're unaware of, so we need to think about how we might draw out, amplify, and apply that latent energy.

In the "Tora no Maki," a work said to contain quintessential secrets of martial arts and strategy, it says, "What comes is met; what goes is sent on its way; what is in opposition is harmonized. Five and five is ten; two and eight is ten; one and nine is ten. In this way should things be harmonized. Distinguish appearance and reality, grasping both true intent and concealed strategies and deceptions; know unseen potentials and hidden implications. Understand that which is of the grand scheme and attend to details and particulars as necessary. When a situation of life or death is at hand, respond to the myriad changes taking place and face situations with a mind free of agitation."

This passage has provided me with vast food for thought. Those words are probably applicable not only to aikido training, but also to many other aspects of life. Certainly, we learn such things through our aikido training but, realistically speaking, most of us spend more time outside the dojo than in it, so it would be strange not to acknowledge that what we learn in the dojo extends to other aspects of life as well. It's not altogether appropriate to speak of winning and losing when talking about aikido, but the best kind of winning, I think, is when you have achieved harmony with your opponent, and both you and your opponent have felt that harmony.

In my view, the best technique is one in which neither party experiences feelings of having won or lost, but rather of having "met successfully." Such a thing does exist, even if it happens only one time in a million. Our goal in training is to make that occurrence one time in half a million, one time in a hundred thousand, and so on. Whether or not a person has faith that that one time will come, and whether or not they overlook it when it does, depends on how seriously they approach their training. I place great importance on this kind of thing. The person who maintains a diligent awareness of his or her self will realize it when that one time comes around. With that sort of awareness you can scrutinize yourself and feel your relationship to your partner. When a given technique turns out perfectly, it is perfect only at that moment; when the meeting between you and your partner is flawed it won't turn out perfectly. When that happens, you shouldn't necessarily try to avoid it but accept the imperfection and consider how to make the best of the relationship.
[/quote]]]></body>
	<date>03-26-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3458">
	<title><![CDATA[More on sinking...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Over the past several weeks, I've been focusing more and more on the process of generating power by sinking my center. Combined with that concept is the concept of keeping three points of contact with uke during waza -- a concept borrowed from judo by Don Dreager, and passed to Ellis Amdur from Terry Dobson (if I recall what Ellis said correctly).

A lot of what I had been doing did not result in good kuzushi, despite my best efforts. I had some idea of moving from my center, but did not really understand which way to move. A lot of my focus was on catching my opponent's timing. I don't think any of these things are bad or wrong, but there's something to be said for being able to make your own opportunities for catching timing by creating kuzushi with powerful movement and good strikes. Dropping one's center plays a part in both powerful movement and powerful strikes.

Where timing does come in is the irimi part of our movements. Ellis makes the point at his seminars that O'Sensei always talked about irimi and irimi-tenkan. So, there's no tenkan without irimi. We worked on Saturday with tsuki kotegaeshi. My initial reaction was to get off-line while entering. However, one of the senior students pointed out that doing so leaves uke in a good position for a follow-up attack. The better response in that situation is to strike straight down with an atemi to the punching arm while it is coming in -- to enter first (there's the timing element), and take up the space that the attacker wants to use. Surprisingly to me, this strong irimi movement is good even if uke has a knife.]]></body>
	<date>03-16-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3446">
	<title><![CDATA[&quot;God's G&quot; and changing tempo...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A lot of the work I've been doing over the past month or so centers (pun!) on generating power -- ki -- during atemi and waza. A lot of that power is generated by sinking or dropping one's center during movement. This reminds me of what fighter pilots call "God's G." Fighter pilots make maneuvers that result in forces several times the normal pull of gravity. They measure those forces as "G-forces" or "Gs." Two Gs are twice the force of gravity, etc. But when flying straight and level -- or simply standing up -- there's 1 G. Pilot's use that 1 G, or God's G, to add energy to some maneuvers, or bleed energy away from others.

I can't help but see a parallel with the ki work I've been doing. Previously, I focused mostly on moving my center on a horizontal plane, but dropping my center and taking advantage of God' G adds significantly to the energy I can apply. A natural consequence of dropping my center is acceleration during technique that gives a change in tempo during waza.

Again, a lot of my previous study resulted in a focus on doing techniques smoothly and without cheating by speeding up to get ahead of uke. For that matter, uke were not supposed to get ahead of nage either. This is good training, and that sense of matching speed and giving an appropriate attack is very much a part of training at my new dojo. However, I'm realizing that working at an appropriate speed does not mean that every movement during the waza are done at the same speed!

Dropping my center gives more distance or more power to my movements (maybe both?), but also more speed, which in turn gives my attacker less time to develop a counter.]]></body>
	<date>02-27-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3441">
	<title><![CDATA[Recent work: aikido sankyo and iaido kata]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm finally well enough to train. 

Saturday we worked on basic movements and kata during iaido class. The kata are somewhat similar to the kumitachi I studied previously, but with different emphasis and technique for the cuts. However, the need for zanshin and the transference of principles from sword to aikido are readily apparent. 

I've got a number of annoying problems to work on for my sword work. My footwork is strange, but correct on the left side and weird on the right. Finally, I need to relax a lot more on my cuts (making sure the sword follows a clean line on cuts) and on my stances.

Aikido class was very interesting too. We worked on sankyo. The technique as taught at my new dojo is different than the more classical technique as most aikidoka would perform it, but the end result is unquestionably sankyo -- it most certainly felt like sankyo. 

It's a lot like the difference between multiplication and division. Three times four is twelve, and twelve divided by four is three. No matter how you look at the problem, the relationship among the numbers does not change.]]></body>
	<date>02-17-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3432">
	<title><![CDATA[Illness and training...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[For the past two weeks, I've been suffering from strep throat. After nine days on one antibiotic, I still wasn't feeling well and was actually feeling worse. So the doctor changed antibiotics for me and now, after three more days, I'm finally starting to feel better. 

Naturally, I haven't felt well enough to train much, which is very frustrating. I've made it to two iaido practices, but not aikido. I should be back in the swing of things this coming week.

In the nearly ten years that I've been training, I've had to take time off several times. I've taken time off for injuries, writing my thesis, taking care of my wife and son after my son's birth, and various illnesses. The key is to get back into training as soon as possible and work through the inevitable frustrations of loosing ground due to lack of training.]]></body>
	<date>02-07-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3421">
	<title><![CDATA[Internal training and learning how to move...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night I attended my first "internal arts" practice. My understanding in brief synopsis of how Itten Dojo got into this practice is this: Ellis Amdur has been studying, and to a certain extent, deconstructing O Sensei's aikido for a number of years. A few years ago, the folks at Itten Dojo started working with Ellis to explore and implement Ellis's ideas on aikido.

In recent years, Ellis has determined that a lot of O Sensei's power came from an understanding of "internal martial arts," or "internal training." I don't really know much about internal training, but I've seen the results. The principles work and make for powerful movements and techniques. Ellis connected Itten Dojo with Mike Sigman, who has made internal training a major focus, and gives workshops on it. This interview with him is interesting: http://www.iay.org.uk/internal-strength/related/interview.htm

From what I can tell, a lot of what we're doing is similar (or even identical) to the emphasis on ki development like Koichi Tohei did. I'm not sure about the differences yet. I really don't know enough about what I'm learning to be able to speak with any authority, but the general aim of the training seems to be like ki as it is taught in traditional aikido.

There are differences, though. I feel them when I train. One of the primary difference seems to be a very detailed and mindful study of internal training principles at Itten Dojo. For me, this is the difference between being aware of something and participating in detailed study and repetition. Like the difference between know what a musical chord is, and practicing arpeggios until they become second nature.]]></body>
	<date>01-22-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3418">
	<title><![CDATA[Making adjustments . . .]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Both classes I attended this week have focused on movement, generating power, and efficiency. We did not even work on a specific technique last night.

This type of detailed study of the fundamentals is very interesting and fun. It's also very clear how we need to apply the movements we practiced to techniques.

I'm forulating some thoughts on the differences between how I trained before and now, but I can't really speak with any authority on the new training methods, so I'm sure to get the comparison horribly wrong.]]></body>
	<date>01-16-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3415">
	<title><![CDATA[Training at a new dojo...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I started studying aikido in September of 1999 at Susquehanna Aikido in York, PA. I live in Harrisburg, which is a 40-50 minute drive away.

When I started training there, I was single and ... well ... nearly ten years younger. :) Now I've got a wife and a three-year-old son. I've finished my bachelor's degree part time and gotten a masters degree. 

In short, my life has changed pretty dramatically. One result has been that I wasn't training nearly as often as I really wanted to train. I was down to two to three times a month, primarily due to the distance and resulting travel time eating into my evenings. I was driving for as long as I was training, and the long evenings away from my family meant that I kept choosing to not train. As a result, my skills pretty much stagnated or even back-slid.

As of December 1st 2008, I've been training at Itten Dojo, which is barely 15 minutes from my house. I've trained with them several times over the years and gotten a good vibe. I'm happy to be there, and while I miss my friends at Susquehanna Aikido, I'm enjoying training more often and training differently.

As others who have changed dojos point out, things are different at different places. The training and techniques at Itten Dojo are in some ways very different from what I was doing before. I'm a white belt again after nine years of training -- and loving every minute of it. I'm finding that I'm uncoordinated and that many of my ingrained habits aren't working at the new dojo. But I'm also finding that a lot of my training carries over after I make a few adjustments. My approach is to try to do exactly what I'm shown without consideration of what I know from previous experience. So far, that approach is serving me well.]]></body>
	<date>01-14-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2857">
	<title><![CDATA[AIkido "on the street"?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It's been a while since I posted. This is something I wrote in a post that I want to keep :

My instructor has stated that it takes about two years of training in aikido before a student can use his or her skills in a violent encounter with some success. That seems about right to me, based on my own experiences. At the same time, I've been training for seven years, and still feel like a rank beginner in a lot of ways.

Note, that's not the same thing as saying that two years of study would give a student the ability to win a street fight. I'm actually not sure what a "street fight" is, or what "on the street" means. I know it's verbal shorthand for things that happen in the real world outside the dojo, but people seem to have a concrete (pun!) idea of what that means. I don't.

Both times that I've really had to rely on my training in a physical altercation, I was in a house and there was no fighting involved. In both cases, I had to physcially restrain somebody who was high on drugs for his own safety. This situation is about as far removed from the dojo, as I can imagine.

My experiences are probably not typical, but I'm not sure what is typical. My point is that with training and experience, we progress from a very narrow understanding of how to apply techniques (he grabbed my wrist, so I repond with ...) to a much broader understanding and spontaneous application of aikido principles.

As an example, last year, when I had the second physical altercation, I ended up wrapping the other person in a bear hug around his waist and constantly adjusting to his movements to keep him pinned to a couch until help could arrive.

We don't practice "bear-hug couch pins" at my dojo, but I still felt as though I was connecting to his center, disturbing his balance, and maintaining contact. To me, these are the aikido principles I've studied. Others would probably read my description and say that it sounds a lot more like grappling. Okay, but I haven't studied grappling in any depth whatsoever. To me, what I did was aikido -- ugly aikido, and I felt more like uke than nage, but it was effective. As a bonus, neither of us was physically hurt.

My point is that the aikido training methods really do lead to useful skills, and that preconcieved ideas of "life on the street" may not be what you face when you need those skills.]]></body>
	<date>01-11-2007</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2401">
	<title><![CDATA[Why I've been gone for a while...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Hi all,

I've not been participating here for a few months, and I've not been training since early November due to the birth of our first baby!

John Richard Ames was born on November 19th, 2005. He was 6 lbs., 7 oz. and 19 inches long. My wife and the baby are doing very well, and his first Thanksgiving, Christmas, and New Years were wonderful.

I'll be back in the dojo this week. I really missed it.

Regards,

-Drew Ames]]></body>
	<date>01-03-2006</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="2096">
	<title><![CDATA[Still training...focusing on jiyuwaza]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[In another week or so, I'll have been training for exactly six years! 

It's been a few months since my last entry. Getting the nursery ready for the baby has been my main focus during that time. I've had to strip the paneling off the walls and put up drywall. I'm spackling now. Luckily, I've had a lot of help from family and friends.

In spite of that, I've been managing a regular training schedule. I've had some challenges over the past few months other than getting ready for the baby. The hardest thing has been adapting to having diabetes. For a while I was on a medication that made me pretty sick. My current medication only makes me a little sick, and only sometimes. I've also experienced some weight gain, which has been exceedingly frustrating. I think I'm starting to get that back under control, though, and my blood sugar has been pretty good.

My biggest challenge in training has been working on jiyuwaza (a single attacker, usually any attack, with any technique is usually how we define it). I'll need to show five arts against three different attacks for my shodan exam. 

So my focus has been on starting with a good hamni (even when tired), thinking about my next technique as I'm finishing the last one, presenting clear, clean techniques, moving sooner (as opposed to quicker), and using my initial movement to blend well.

In other words, I'm working on gaining a minimum level of proficiency. :)

]]></body>
	<date>09-14-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1925">
	<title><![CDATA[Doing some judo...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yesterday I took the opportunity to train at Itten Dojo, which is near my home, and has hosted two seminars with Ellis Amdur that I've attended. As always, the folks there were very welcoming and the level of training was intense.

I could only attend the open mat session but I hope to come back and take a regular class  from time to time. 

In any event, Budd and John led me through a number of judo drills with an eye toward the similarities in priciples with aikido.  We worked on single leg takedowns and a counter, a hip throw and a counter to that, and a method for reversing one's position while on the ground. I enjoyed myself immensly and hopefully learned a little bit in the process.

So now my total training time in judo is about an hour -- hardly enough time to even begin to appreciate what seems to be a vast and rich art. However, one point that Ellis has made recently makes a bit more sense to me now: He stated that when he saw footage of Donn Draeger doing aikido, Draeger always had three points of contact with uke -- a concept taken from Judo.

I noticed that when I performed a reasonably kihon version of iriminage with John or Budd, it had a koshi-nage feel to it in that I had contact with them at my arm, opposite hand and my hip. I think this is the result of the closer context of judo compared to aikido, but I'm not sure. ]]></body>
	<date>06-30-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1875">
	<title><![CDATA[Randori with swords...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It has been a while since my last entry. The final weeks of my first year of grad school and impending fatherhood made things pretty complicated for a little while. In addition to everything else, I've been diagnosed with type II diabetes, so I've been working hard to change my diet and deal with that issue.

I continued to train, however, and the past couple weeks have been really good. Two Saturdays ago only Micah, Robert, and I were in class. We decided to experiment a bit with two-man randori with swords! We used bokken, so we moved more slowly than we would normally and stopped ourselves when we felt that we were speeding up.

Of about a dozen turns as uketachi (the same role as nage when we do it empty handed), I had one turn where I felt pretty good about my performance. I cut my two opponents, but more importantly, I did so by blending with their attacks and by not getting cut at the same time. :-)  Otherwise, I noticed that I was overcommitting on my attacks when acting as uchitachi.

This past Saturday, Glen Matsuda sensei -- the AAA Eastern Region director -- came down from the New York area to teach us. We worked on some techniques from ushirotekubitori. His major point was to show us ways to move so that uke is continuously moving and off-balance. 

We took a break after about an hour and got some answers to the questions  that we had regarding Sato sensei's leaving the AAA and the future directions of the organization. Generally speaking, it sounds as though the organization is heading in a good direction and that it's a shame the AAA and Sato couldn't reconcile their differences.

For the second session, Matsuda sensei answered specific questions we had with a focus on koshi nage and randori. The class was excellent!]]></body>
	<date>06-07-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1642">
	<title><![CDATA[Teaching reverses on Sat.; constructive critisism]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I taught part of last Saturday's class and it went very well.  I showed some reverses by first showing the proper way to do the technique, and then having nage make a deliberate, but small, error for uke to use as the basis for the reverse.  The way we practice ukemi leads pretty quickly to performing reverses, but a dedicated practice on the topic now and again reinforces what we consider to be good ukemi.

And on that note, I got some very good criticism on my ukemi and nage waza last night in class. We were working on tanto dori. There has been some debate from time to time on whether tanto dori is a realistic exercise or just martial mastrubation. 

My opinion is that the tanto adds intensity to practice. I know I was responding to it. We perform our empty-hand technique with the thought that our attacker is actually armed, so tanto dori should not be very different from the empty-hand work. But I was responding as though it was. The criticism I received was that I was rushing through the tai sabaki to get to the technique. 

I was also cautioned that at my level now, it is very easy to stop a technique, and much harder to give a good committed attack without foreknowledge. 

As a result, I spent a lot of time focusing on the things like moving smoothly from the opening movements to the throw, and giving good ukemi. I found the effect to be a blessed tonic to my otherwise currently befuddled state.

Why befuddled? Because I found out last Fridayy (Good Friday) that I'm going to be a father!]]></body>
	<date>04-01-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1606">
	<title><![CDATA[Five and a half years, and I'm still working on ro]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Class on Saturday went pretty well, except for a freak fall that tourqued my left elbow a bit. My elbow is feeling better now, so I guess the fall wasn't that bad.

Right at the beginning, during our warm-up ukemi, my instructor commented on my forward rolls. I was quickly able to make the correction that he pointed out, but I guess I get sloppy at times.

The empty hand work went well, and the weapons stuff was interesting. My instructor's first instructor taught some techniques with hanbo (3' stick). We worked with a couple of them, utilizing aikido movements. We ended the first one in a choke, and the second was a shihonage. In both cases, uke had a tanto. 

More on stick techniques can be found in a book by Masaaki Hatsumi and Quintin Chambers. Meik Skoss calles it "an excellent work on tanjojutsu, based on techniques of the Kukishin-ryu." It's titled [i]Stick Fighting: Techniques of Self-Defense[/i]. I'm tempted to pick up that book. But then again, I'm tempted to pick up a lot of books. :D]]></body>
	<date>03-22-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1559">
	<title><![CDATA[Seeing in practice what I learned at the seminar..]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night (Thursday 3/3/05) was my first class back at my home dojo after Ellis's seminar. I was gratified to see opportunities for some of the strikes that we worked on in our taisabaki.

I especially saw the nikkokyu (2nd vector) in our taisabaki where we go to the outside against a yokomenuchi strike. Nage's arm rolls around uke's strike and I saw the elbow strike we practiced at the seminar in that movement. I was able to use use that movement pretty well -- without the strike, but the strike was there if I wanted it.]]></body>
	<date>03-04-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1550">
	<title><![CDATA[Report on the seminar with Ellis Amdur]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The seminar at Itten Dojo with Ellis Amdur is over, and boy, am I sore!

Unlike the last seminar of his I attended, Ellis focused almost exclusively on atemi (with only a very brief mention of ukemi). That was just fine with me as I've struggled a bit to implement Ellis's suggestions for really integrating atemi practice with my regular aikido practice. 

(If you'd like to read more about Ellis's approach to atemi, get his book, [i]Dueling with O Sensei[/i]. I can't recommend it more highly.)

There was some new material that Ellis presented that complements his overall teachings on aikido. He's working on classifying aikido movements according to their particular vectors, of which there are five. Those vectors closely match the movements of the five pinning techniques, but also encompass the other aikido body movements (like tenkan) and atemi.

Ellis showed how to use uke's structure to guide and even give energy to strikes. He also consistently emphasized that there can be no technique without irimi. In fact, irimi and atemi are closely linked.

Ellis's overall approach to aikido technique was very positive and direct. He stated that each of us should have the attitude that our own bodies are perfect, and everyone who is shaped differently is a little deformed. :D  By that he means that we should make our partners conform to our own body's strengths. If you're short and uke is tall, bring him down to your level.

I think I've captured the bulk of what I learned, but there was a lot of information presented and I'm still sorting through it mentally.

Itten dojo is a wonderful place to train. Bob Wolfe sensei and his students are uniformly friendly, welcoming, and helpful. 

Ellis is a very approachable instructor and a friendly guy. He has a vast store of martial arts experience and a willingness to share it. I highly recommended attending any of his seminars.]]></body>
	<date>03-01-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1493">
	<title><![CDATA[Excited about the Amdur seminar at the end of Febr]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'll be attending another seminar with Ellis Amdur, hosted at Itten Dojo in Enola, at the end of February.

I got a heck of a lot out of the last of Ellis's seminars at that location that I attended a few years ago. I learned a bit about ukemi, and a lot about atemi. The biggest thing that I learned, however, was that my size can be an advantage. Ellis helped me see that there are advantages to my size, which until then, I had considered *only* a disadvantage.

Ironically, the fact that I started to accept my weight made it much easier for me to lose it over time. 

In any event, I've got a bit more experience under my belt since the last time I saw Ellis. From the brochure on the seminar, it looks like this seminar will be similar to the last one. This will give me a chance to approach his particular views on ukemi (which struck me as very similar to our own at my dojo) with a more informed and open mind than the last time.  ]]></body>
	<date>02-09-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1492">
	<title><![CDATA[1st kyu test completed and passed!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night, 7 February 2005, our dojo held a series of kyu rank tests. All the regular attendies, except our most senior student were tested. Micah, who has been at first kyu for a while, is getting ready for his shodan test hopefully sometime this year. Our instructor cannot test us for Shodan; those tests must be done at a seminar or camp in front of the AAA teaching committee.

Anyway, we had two guys test for 7th and 6th kyu; one guy for 6th kyu only; one guy for 4th kyu, and two of us for 1st kyu -- six of us total. Everyone who tested did a very good job on their tests. 

I had a mild level of anxiety about the test all day yesterday. I've felt pretty good about the techniques I was supposed to know, but I still had the basic anxiety about testing, demonstrating, what I know. With Richard (the other guy testing for 1st kyu) and I being the last to test, we got the chance to take some ukemi for the other guys, which provided a nice warm-up and a chance to get rid of some of the anxiety. By the time our tests started I was pretty well settled down. Richard and I tested simulaneously, often taking ukemi for one another.

The first thing we did was the tai sabaki for sword, for shomenuchi and yokomenuchi. We also knew them for tsuki, but we weren't tested on them. After that were a number of 0pen hand techniques: sumiotoshi, sudori (which I messed up once), kotegaeshi, ikkyo, and jiujinage -- not much different than previous tests except in the attacks used. The other students who had just tested took ukemi for a lot of these.

Then we did tanto dori with Richard and I taking ukemi for one another. We were required to perform at least three techniques each against shomenuchi, yokomenuchi, and munetsuki. Again, I don't think we tested tanto dori against munetuski. The 1st kyu test can be a long one, and I think our instructor was trying to shorten the test a bit to leave more time for randori at the end. I felt pretty good about my ability to spontaneously apply technique during the tanto dori part of the test.

Richard and I performed the 2nd bokken kata in unison after a couple of false starts where we got out of sync. Then it was time for randori.

We each performed full-speed randori versus three attackers. I started off pretty well and then got a bit hung up about halfway through. In all, I lasted about 30 seconds, with the first 15 going pretty well. 

Overall, the test felt good. Over the past two years I've lost 40 lbs., which has helped my endurance and made my falls a bit softer. My biggest fears in years past has been that I was too out of shape to keep up. I feared that I would get too winded and need to quit before finishing a test. But I never did. I think the fact that I was able to perform even when heavier has made it easier for me to perform at a lighter weight.

I'm still working on losing weight, and I'm about a third of the way to where I want to be. Hopefully with continued exercise and attention to what I'm eating, I'll be lighter yet when I test for shodan. ]]></body>
	<date>02-09-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1401">
	<title><![CDATA[Randori, again, finally...and a seminar next month]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Classes have been going well. We're gearing up for a test next month, but I'm not sure exactly when. I'll be testng for 1st kyu.

Last night, only the senior students showed up for some reason, but we had a very good class. We worked on a few test techniques, and finally got to do some full-speed randori!

When it's just the more experienced students, the class has a more relaxed and more productive feel. That's not to say that I dislike working with beginners! I enjoy both experiences, but it's nice to work with experienced ukes only, from time to time.

We did randori in hamni handachi against two uke toward the end of class. I felt pretty good about how I did. The first time I went, I quickly got caught up with my attackers, but still managed to keep going in spite of that. The second time, I did a much better job of moving and did not get caught up as quickly. :D

Lastly, Ellis Amdur is coming to my neck of the woods again, and I think I'll go to his seminar!
 ]]></body>
	<date>01-14-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1368">
	<title><![CDATA[An organizational shakeup?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The new year seems to be starting out pretty well. I think we'll be testing again soon -- maybe in February. I think I'll be testing for 1st kyu. 

My graduate school schedule leaves aikido class nights open this semester. I can't guarantee that I'll make each class, but I'm pretty sure I can commit to Thursday and Saturday classes. 

I found out last night that there's been something of a shake-up in our parent organization. I really don't know very much at all about what happened, and I doubt very much that it will affect us at our dojo, but it would be nice to know what's going on, and what is going to happen next. 

 ]]></body>
	<date>01-05-2005</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1260">
	<title><![CDATA[Kote gaeshi, my problem technique...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night's class went well, but I'm still struggling with kote gaeshi. I think I really just need to work on fogetting what I think I know and concentrate on what I need to be doing. I also need to ask my instructor for more help.

We worked on tanto dori last night, something that is always fun. We also had a good turnout, which makes for a good class atmosphere.

 ]]></body>
	<date>12-01-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1197">
	<title><![CDATA[Rolls and an upset stomach...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[... they don't go together well. For some reason (and I suspect the French onion dip from lunch), I had an upset stomach this past Tuesday. I tried to do the ukemi, but it just didn't work out. I ended up not taking much ukemi at all that class. I took the ukemi (gave the attack) to the point where my balance was fully taken and I was just about to be thrown, and then my partner would let up and we'd stop the technique.

Overall, the class felt pretty good (except for my tummy ache). After class, I worked with one of our (relatively) new white belts. He's about 10 years older than me, but in fantastic shape. He's also got a black belt in TKD. He biggest strugle has been adapting to the way we do things. We go out of our way to state that he's not doing things wrongly, just that he's not doing things the way we do them. 

So I took him aside after class on Tueday and demonstrated how our empty hand attacks and weapons attacks are very closely related. He made one of those intuitve connections that comes after actually feeling something. I felt good helping him see and feel it.

Last Saturday, Richard and I taught the class becuase our instructor was at a hakamakai meeting (for black belts in our region). I focused on ikkyo in from standing, and suwari, waza.  After that, Richard showed some paired jo exercises that were pretty interesting. 

My shoulder continues to hurt and I really need to do my PT exercises. ]]></body>
	<date>11-11-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1134">
	<title><![CDATA[Okay, so it wasn't that hard...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Saturday's class went very well, and it felt good to be back. I'm looking forward to Tuesday's class. 

For me, right now, the biggest challenge is to get my injured right shoulder back into shape. The PT from earlier this year really helped, but I've backslid a bit by spending too much time on the computer and not enough time doing my shoulder exercises.

 ]]></body>
	<date>10-25-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1126">
	<title><![CDATA[The hardest thing about aikido...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[... is getting back to the dojo after a break.  For whatever reason, I'm always a little nervous about going back after I've missed some classes.

But tomorrow I go back, and hopefully now that midterms are done, I can go to two classess a week for the next month or so -- until finals in December. ]]></body>
	<date>10-22-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1096">
	<title><![CDATA[Grad school is getting in the way of my training..]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This week was, and next week looks, particularly hellish. I have a midterm and a lot of homework in my stats class, and a take-home essay midterm in my planning theory class. All this while working full time and trying to at least see my wife for a few minutes each day (a slight exageration).

Oh well, I can do some work solo -- especially weapons strikes. I can also take the time off from training to really focus on my shoulder exercises now that my shoulder injury is acting up again.

So, one does what one has to do. I'll be back in the dojo in eight days. ]]></body>
	<date>10-15-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1034">
	<title><![CDATA[A nice, relaxed class...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This past Tuesday featured absolutely horrible weather, mostly driving rain. As a result, it took me almost twice as long to get to the dojo as it normally does. I missed the warm-ups, so I warmed up on my own while our instructor demonstrated the first technique.

Because of the weather, only two other students, Richard (2nd kyu, like me) and Robert (4th kyu, but ready for 3rd kyu), showed up. It was nice to have a class with just senior students. I tried to describe it to my wife, but had a hard time. Basically, the atmosphere was relaxed. It's not that we didn't work hard, because we did. We attacked hard, made some mistakes, and executed vigorous techniques and ukemi. Yet for all of that, there was a relaxed feeling to the practice. I think all three of us were very comfortable with one another's abilities, so we were able to simply attack or throw without so much attention to protecting ourselves from unexpected mistakes (too much muscle, improper body position, etc). 

Strangely, or maybe not so strangely, when we make a mistake as nage at this level of training and with skilled ukes, the technique stops almost immediately -- by mutual concent. A couple of times we each switched to another technique; maybe just to show ourselves that we could adapt and recover from mistakes. But most of the time, we stopped and worked out what was going wrong.

I guess that's the key to why things felt so relaxed: we all knew what is expected of nage and uke, and we all met those expectations. It felt good. ]]></body>
	<date>09-30-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="1026">
	<title><![CDATA[An "aiki moment"...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I missed class on Saturday and Tuesday of last week due to the flooding over the weekend and my grad school work. However, I made it this past Saturday (9/24/04) and ended up leading the class for its first half. Richard took the second half.

Things went well. I started everyone out on a tai sabaki against yokomen uchi with a tenkan movement. After that, we worked on four techniques that all used the same attack and basic tai sabaki. I made sure to work in with everyone and take some ukemi.

Richard then took over and showed bokken dori techniques that were nearly identical to the open hand work we had just done. It was almost as though we planned it that way. ;)

Toward the end of class, one of the new students asked why he could stop one of the bokken dori techniques just by locking down. This led to a good discussion and demonstration about how (1) locking down is no longer attacking, and (2) we are stretching time in order to give nage plenty practice applying technique and uke plenty of practice attacking.

Then Richard and I had an "aiki moment." In our dojo, that's a term for when uke and nage both reach a certain state of sensitivity to one another's movements and something unplanned, but totally appropriate happens. I told the new student who asked about locking down that I was going to attack Richard with the bokken and then follow through with a second attack. Richard moved well and then did something with the sword just as I was starting to raise it again for my next movement. I felt the blade on my neck and one of my hands trapped. I rolled a bit, just ahead of the blade and ended in a breakfall. My ukemi and sensitivity saved me from a simulated beheading (and a real, though less fatal, whack on the head or neck), and Richard's movement saved him from, well, being cut by my attacks.

Everyone was amazed and said that what we did looked really cool. He and I sort of took it for granted, but neither of us is exactly sure what we did. :D ]]></body>
	<date>09-27-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="996">
	<title><![CDATA[An anniversary...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Sometime in mid September, in 1999, I started to train. Five years later, I'm still training. Not too bad. :D ]]></body>
	<date>09-16-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="985">
	<title><![CDATA[Staying motivated to train, even when very busy...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm now in my third week of grad school, and things are finally starting to settle down. I'm still making it to class, but I'm down to twice a week instead of three times a week. It's funny how I've come to view my aikido training as necessary to maintaining balance in my life. The physical activity and ritual really help counteract all the sitting and computer work I'm doing for school. In many ways, it's easier to get motivated to train now that I have another activity to keep me occupied; the time spent training is all the more precious now that I have to work harder to do it.

Classes have been going well. We have a good group of beginners and class sizes are holding stead at about 6-8 students. The kids' class seems to be growing now too. It's good to see the dojo healthy and the students happy.
 ]]></body>
	<date>09-14-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="924">
	<title><![CDATA[Nervous anticipa.......tion]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I missed four classes in a row due to illness and two events I couldn't miss.  Yesterday's class was my first one back after the break. 

For whatever reason, I'm always a bit nervous about going back to the dojo after a break. This time, I'm also nervous about starting grad school in a week or so. But, thankfully, as soon as we knelt to bow in, I quickly shed my nervousness and had a great class.

It's strange, this reaction I have. In many ways, it's physiological, manifesting itself as an upset stomach. Often I have the physical symptoms before I realize that I'm nervous or stressed. Logically, I know that I don't have anything to be worried about -- that I've been training for a number of years now, and I know what to expect. But emotionally, I still get nervous. Some of it is a holdover, I'm sure, from the insecurity I've felt in the past about not being able to keep up with the rest of the class. Now, though, I find it much easier to keep up and I do pretty well physically -- this is due to my weight loss and the experience I've accumulated during my training. I'm both lighter and more efficient.

In any event, it was very gratifying to be able to drop right back into place and have a good class; even after a week and a half off. ]]></body>
	<date>08-25-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="842">
	<title><![CDATA[2nd kyu test went well!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night's test went pretty darned well. In addition to the 2nd kyu test for Richard and me, we had two people test for 7th kyu -- Justin and Greg. Greg tested for some 6th kyu test techniques too, but he was not quite ready for those. Robert would have tested for 4th kyu, but he's recently back from a toe injury and didn't feel ready to test. He took ukemi, however. Micah (our senior student) suffered a freak injury to his ankle this past Tuesday, so he did not take ukemi. He sat with our sensei and was part of the testing committee (which consisted of him and our sensei *grin*). Craig, who has been with us for a month or two also took some ukemi. The other Robert (I think we'll call him Bob), who just started on Saturday and had previously studied TKD, mostly watched, but he provided some good ukemi for Richard and me when we had to test against kicks.

After the two 7th kyu tests, Richard and I tested for 2nd kyu. We started out with ki tests (unliftable body and testing whilst standing on one foot). Then we had an oral exam on a couple of key questions regarding aikido. That went pretty well except that I could remember very little about Earth breathing, heaven breathing, and human breathing. They came up as part of the question on meditation training. However, I acquitted myself well when talking about before-and-after-class meditation, and zasen meditiation. My blank on breathing was due to the fact that we hadn't practiced it for three or more years -- something our instructor realized.

The technique part of the test went well. For part of it, Richard and I took ukemi for one another, other times we had other ukes. After having lost so much weight since my last test, I found that I didn't get so winded. That was a great feeling! Our sensei noticed that I'm in better shape as well. I swore after the last test that I'd loose weight and I did.  We did jiyu waza, but not randori as we had a dearth of healthy, experienced ukes. Mentally, I was ready both to perform a nage and uke, so I was a little disappointed.

We'll get the official results of the test on Tuesday, but our sensei said, in not so many words that we passed. 

Our instructor likes to make the point that the purpose of testing is not really to see if we're good enough for the rank, but rather to demonstrate that we know the requirements and can then show junior members what they need to know. I think that an additional benefit is that the junior members seeing Richard and me test for brown belt gave us a bit more credibility. We showed that we could perform under stressful circumstances. This is not an ego stroke, but rather a way of showing that we have earned our particular places in dojo and we can accept the added responsibility. At the same time, I thought it was fantastic that everyone got to participate in the testing. In time, the new students will, I hope, come to learn why I was so grateful for their ukemi.
 ]]></body>
	<date>07-30-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="838">
	<title><![CDATA[Testing tonight, and the status of the dojo...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I was worried on Saturday that the talk about dues had driven people off -- only Richard and I showed up. However, we had a brand new student come in and take his first class. My doubts proved unfounded on Tuesday. We had yet another brand new student and the regular crew. A total of eight of us showed up to train.

Richard and I test tonight for 2nd kyu. Justin and maybe one other (Greg) test for 7th kyu. Naturally I'm a big nervous, but I feel pretty confident that I know what I need to know.

Check back here for a recap of the test. ]]></body>
	<date>07-29-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="827">
	<title><![CDATA[Test next Thursday; and dojo unrest...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It sometimes seems like, just as things seem to be going pretty well, something happens to make things more complicated again. 

The good news is that we'll be testing in a week. Richard and I will be going for 2nd kyu. Overall, I feel pretty secure in the techniques I need to know. I still need to do a little research on the oral exam part of the test, but things should go well.

The unrest is about dues. Our dues will be going up from  55 to  65 or  70/month in the next month or so. To me, this isn't a big deal (for a number of reasons, but not because I'm rich), but a couple of students are worried about it. Our instructor has been pretty candid about the necessity of raising dues,  an attititude I find admirable. The conflict is that some feel we should do more to raise enrollment rather than raise dues. Those who feel that way are in favor of some gimmicks for bringing people in the door. This is an approach that our instructor is not willing to try, and that upsets those who are in favor of it.

I tend to agree with our instructor. I especially dislike the practice of having people pay for three months of training up front, and then counting on them to not come back after a month of two.

In any event, I'm sure things will work out in the end. The strange thing last night was that everyone bent my ear after our instructor left last night. I suggested that those who really want to rais attendance should offer to administrate the discount programs so that our instructor doesn't have to. I also suggested that we approach the two problems of raising dues and raising attendance separately. 

I think my advice had some good effect. I hope so, anyway. ]]></body>
	<date>07-23-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="810">
	<title><![CDATA[More on different levels of ukemi...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last Tuesday's class was very interesting. We had four beginners and two "old guys" (Richard and me). Richard and I only got to work with one another for the final technique of the evening. We were working on yokomenuchi irimi nage. After an hour and a half of giving careful, slow speed ukemi, I had a difficult time, at first giving more fluid a quick ukemi to Richard.  After a reminder from our instructor, I started doing just that, and boy did it make a difference!

When giving a more fluid attack, nage's timing is very important. This is a pretty self-evident statement, but it was neat to actually feel the truth of the statement in practice. The main problem during this technique, for both Richard and me, was that if the off-balancing motion is not applied to the shoulder of uke's striking hand at the right moment, uke can wrap around under nage's arm requiring a change in technique to something more like men nage (throwing by the head).

When done smoothly, and with good kyusushi (off-balancing, I'm not sure I spelled it correctly), the technique goes off according to plan.

In any event, it was good to have a strong reminder of why good ukemi is essential to helping nage learn. ]]></body>
	<date>07-15-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="796">
	<title><![CDATA[Some thoughts on hip throws...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I think I'm finally starting to really get these down. I've learned two types of koshinage so far.  The first is like a kokyu nage with the hips in the way.  The second is more like wraping uke around you, thrusting your hips under his belt, and then unwrapping him onto the floor.

I've been doing pretty well with the second type, but was having trouble with the first type. Last night I felt like I was getting it; meaning, of course, that I could perform the same throw with both sides of my body, with a couple of different ukes, in a row. :D

Class last night went well in other ways too. We had a good turnout of students with two newcomers. ]]></body>
	<date>07-09-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="790">
	<title><![CDATA[Getting better all the time...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The last couple of classes have gone well. My back is feeling much better.

I taught class this past Saturday. With it being the day before a major holiday, only two other people showed up, and we only trained for an hour and a half, rather than three hours. I went over the basic jo strikes and then the first two kumi jo. I taught them just like I learned (and drilled incessantly) at the instructors seminar.

I should be going to class tonight, but I have a bunch of things I need to do around the house. So, I'll go on Thursday. I'll miss Saturday again because I'm helping my best friend and his wife and baby move.
 ]]></body>
	<date>07-06-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="776">
	<title><![CDATA[Sometimes, it is very hard to train...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I went to class on Saturday, even though I wasn't feeling 100%. I'd been having stomach troubles all week, and I'd strained my back the previous Tuesday working on my house.  I found that my back held up pretty well unless I needed to arch it for ukemi. It's feeling better and better as time progresses.

However, my stomach trouble caused me to throw up a little bit about an hour into training. That's the first time in nearly five years of training that such a thing has happened to me! I've gotten a bit nauseated from time to time during periods of high exersion and/or high heat, but I've never thrown up. My instructor wasn't feeling well either, so I guess there's something going around.

Oh well, the throwing and falling felt pretty good until I got to feeling sick. I'll train again tonight and see how things go. ]]></body>
	<date>06-29-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="757">
	<title><![CDATA[Really really busy, but testing soon...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've been exceptionally busy for the past month or more and it's starting to catch up with me. Mostly, I've been doing a lot of work on my house.

Still, I've managed to make it to practice twice a week most weeks. We're gearing up for another round of tests at our dojo. Richard and I will test for 2nd kyu in July. Micah will be testing for Shodan soon, and our instructor is going for Sandan soon too.

I'm less nervous this time than I was for the last test. Overall, I'm feeling pretty good about what I need to know for the test, and I still have some time to figure out the stuff I'm weak on.

I'm looking forward to tonight's open mat session and regular class. ]]></body>
	<date>06-24-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="680">
	<title><![CDATA[AAA East Cost Instructors Seminar a huge success!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[From Thursday, May 27 though Sunday, May 30, I attended the AAA East Cost Instructors Seminar in lovely Charleston, West Virginia.

And I do mean lovely. West Virginia is a beautiful state and Charleston was a very pretty city. The seminar was held at the Charleston Family YMCA, on top of a hill overlooking the city. The facilities were fine and the instruction was top notch. I'll be typing up a more detailed report soon, but my first impressions are below.

Sato sensei did most of the teaching, but other members of the AAA teaching committee led sessions as well. The primary focus was on weapons. Apparently, instructors seminars have a different focus each year. Last year the focus was on ki tests and running a rank test. The year before, the focus was on teaching ukemi.

One highlight of the seminar, for me, was working on the first five kumijo with Matsuda sensei (the head of the Eastern Region). He pointed out a number of areas where I needed work and really helped me correct the mistakes I was making. My biggest mistake was in letting the ma ai collapse. I was consistently getting too close during the katas. I started to get a little frustrated and asked Matsuda sensei how I can avoid this problem; he pointed out that he is much shorter than I, so I should take smaller steps. It dawned on me that I usually train with people taller than me, so maybe I was too used to a certain range of movement. But, I really should know how to adjust my sense of distance to fit different weapons and different sized partners. By the end of that exercise, I was feeling better about maintaining proper ma ai, and Matsuda sensei was expressing approval.

We worked on kumi jo, kumi ken, bokken tori, jo nage, jo tori, a number of weapons exercises, and empty hand technique that complemented the weapons work.  There were over 100 attendees and at least five members of the teaching committee present. That's a good ratio of instructor to student, and I found that nearly every time I was strugling with something, there was Sato sensei, Matsuda sensei, Bunn sensei, Noble sensei, or Tajiri sensei to help me out.

I was particularly impressed with Tajiri sensei's sword work. He brought an intensity and purpose to it that eletrified our practice.

Because this was an instructors seminar, all participants were required to be 3rd kyu rank or above. This lead to a different feel at this seminar compared to a regular seminar. Less time was spent on demonstrating techniques and more time was spend on doing them. However, we generally worked in groups, so everyone got a small break in between throws. 

However, the emphasis at this kind of seminar is in helping us to become better teachers. Several times throughout the six, three-hour training sessions, we broke into groups of five where we would then each take turns instructing the other four in one of the kumi-jo or kumi-ken.

As I said, I'll have a more detailed report typed up soon, but I wanted to get my impressions down now. Overall I felt I did pretty well and learned a lot. I missed the fifth session because my shoulder injury flared up, but I made it almost the whole way through the sixth session before having to sit out. All told, I attended almost 15 hours of training and felt really good.

I will definitely try to make as many instructor seminars as I can. ]]></body>
	<date>06-02-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="647">
	<title><![CDATA[Broken toe...thankfully not mine.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night's class was going pretty well until Robert broke his toe during randori. 

We've been working on brown belt (nikyu) test techniques in preparation for a test in June. The techniques are feeling pretty good, but I'll be taking advantage of the open mat sessions to work on them.

We're not quite sure how Rober broke his toe (or if it's broken, it may be dislocated). We were doing randori with Micah as nage and four of us as uke.  None of us felt any hard collisions or anything that would explain the injury to Robert's toe. As soon as Robert realized he was injured, I got the ice pack and bound it to his foot with an Ace bandage. Shortly thereafter Micah drove Robert to the emergency room for an X-ray and treatment.

I'm a little perturbed because I've been urging Robert to get health insurance for a few months now, but he still doesn't have any. As a result, we've all offered to chip in a bit and help with his medical costs. I guess it's the right thing to do, but combined with the fact that we all agreed to chip in and help pay our most senior student's shodan test fee, the subsidizing other people's aikido practice is starting to bug me.

It' wouldn't bug me so much if I weren't already worried about paying for the instructors' seminar I'm attending next week, not to mention the test fee in June. 

This hobby can be pretty expensive at times.

 ]]></body>
	<date>05-21-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="635">
	<title><![CDATA[Teaching again last night...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night's class was very cool. As we do each Thursday, we had an open mat session for the half hour prior to class. During this session, I found out that our instructor wouldn't be able to make it. Additionally, our most senior student would be late, so it fell to me to lead class. 

About five minutes into the regular class period, Micah (sempai for all of us in the dojo) showed up. I was ready to let him take over leading class, but he declined and urged me to continue. The class went really well! It was nice to have Micah there to point out things that I missed (which, thankfully, wasn't that often). 

We worked on kokyunage, which led into some proto-randori drills. That's my term for some drills that we did at the eastern states seminar last year. They're drills that are a little abstract, but focus on certain aspects of randori. Then we did some slow motion and full-speed randori. We ended the night with tsuki iriminage and kokyu dosa with renzoku.

All told, it was a good experience. Micah said that I did a good job. I made sure I got in to take ukemi during the class, and I made sure to give some words of encouragement when I saw something worthy of them. It is sometimes hard to remember to give praise. I was also pretty successful at not worrying too much if I messed up; nobody expected me to be perfect and everyone was willing to work with me.
 ]]></body>
	<date>05-14-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="615">
	<title><![CDATA[April has been a good month...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Overall, this has been a great month!  The weather has been great for aikido practice (our dojo has neither heat, nor A/C).  Our practice is continuing to evolve as our instructor spends more and more time with other instructors from the AAA, especially Matsuda sensei. 

In some ways, change can be frustrating. We're working on changes to our sword strikes, and the adjustment has been a little difficult. I haven't found it to be a major, or impossible, change, but the recovery from my shoulder injury has slowed down my weapons practice. So, the change is taking longer to feel comfortable.

My shoulder is doing very well. Practice is mostly pain free. I'm left with some residual soreness, but it's usually not a really big deal. Last night I had a number of "ah ha!" moments in practice. I felt good about being able to recognize a problem and fairly rapidly fix it.  I think, for the time being at least, I'm past a stage where I had high expectations for myself and would get upset when I'd make a mistake. Perhaps my injury and recovery have helped me keep some things in perspective. 

One of the guys who is junior to me called me "atemi sama" last night. He says it means "Lord atemi." I like that! :D I just can't let it go to my head.

On a personal note: April 13th was my second wedding anniversary. Robin has been exceptionally supportive of my aikido training, so I feel blessed. We're going to West Viriginia for an instructors seminar at the end of May. I'll train, and she'll hang out and enjoy the amenities of staying in a hotel. I hope she'll also get a chance to bum around downtown Charleston, WV.

I took last week off from aikido study so I could study for the GRE. It's like the SAT, but for getting into graduate school. I'm glad I did! I got a perfect score on the verbal section and a 550 (out of 800) on the math section. I needed a score of 1,100 to get into the grad school program of my choice, so I'm good to go.

Lastly, I just heard about an exciting seminar in July. I'll post more when things are confirmed. It'll be at Itten dojo, not far from where I live, so I'm pretty sure I'm going to go. ]]></body>
	<date>04-28-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="587">
	<title><![CDATA[My shoulder recovery and weapons work...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've had a mostly successful couple of weeks of training. The empty-hand work is going well. Ukemi doesn't hurt my shoulder. I'm a little rusty, but overall I'm feeling pretty good.

That is, until I start doing sword strikes. My god that hurts! I need to get back into sword work slowly or I'm going to re-aggravate my injury. Part of the problem may be that we, as a dojo, are modifying our basic sword strike in response to criticism we received from our regional director -- a 5th dan. It could be that, in trying to learn the new strike, I'm too tense; putting strain on the joint and muscles that doesn't need to be there.

On the plus side, my jo work seems to be okay.

Tomorrow is my second wedding anniversary, so I won't be in class. ]]></body>
	<date>04-12-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="571">
	<title><![CDATA[Some really good classes...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm back into training and the classes have been really good. I came out of last Thursday's class feeling initially somewhat frustrated, but eventually very humbled. We were working on some things that, while not simple or basic, I've been working on almost since the first day I started training. Things like tenchinage and kokyodosa. I was getting a lot of specific, clear, and useful pointers from our instructor on the more subtle aspects of performing those techniques. 

I'm sure part of what frustrated me was that I was a bit rusty from being out of practice. But that was only part of it. More frustrating was that the corrections from my sensei were small and subtle, but they changed my whole way of performing the technique. I came out of the class thinking that after more than four years of training, I knew almost nothing. 

Frustrated is probably not the best way to describe how I felt. I was more disappointed in my own ability than frustrated. I easily recognized the value of my instructor's corrections of my technique, I was simply disappointed that I needed so much correction.

Upon more sober reflection on the 40-minute drive home, I realized a few things: (1) I really am pretty rusty from not practicing, (2) just because I was able to satisfactorily perform a technique for a rank test, that does not mean I don't need to work on improving that technique, (3) I've learned enough of the basics now that I can start to concentrate on the more subtle aspects of technique, and (4) four years isn't really that long a time to be studying. 

The end result was that I e-mailed my instructor and thanked him for an excellent class. It was good to be taken down a peg or two, and it was especially good that it happened through some very positive and useful instruction.

One final note, it has been right around a year since I started this journal, and I've averaged just over one post per week. Not too bad. ]]></body>
	<date>03-31-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="556">
	<title><![CDATA[Seiza, shikko, suwari waza, and hamni handachi waz]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...all stuff done on the knees, and when you weigh what I do, these aspects of aikido can be a bit tough. Two days after getting back into training, my knees are a bit sore. The good news is that the soreness is much less today than it was yesterday. Further good news is that the soreness is in the tissue covering the kneecap and not in the joint itself. My quadriceps muscles hurt like hell, but that's because I haven't used them this much for quite a while.

In any event, I obviously need to spend more time working on the techniques done on my knees. ]]></body>
	<date>03-18-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="553">
	<title><![CDATA[Training again...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night was my first class after taking time off for physical therapy. I was enthusiastically welcomed back, and that felt good. The class size was small with just three of us, and our sensei. 

The warm-up stretching and ukemi felt pretty good. My shoulder gave me no trouble at all during the class and was only a little sore after. My new toenail has grown in enough that I was able to do shikko and the two Hanmi-handachi waza we practiced (mune tsuki kote gaishi, and katate kosa tori sankyo). We finished the evening with a variety of koshi nage. I particularly like hip throws and do a relatively good job with them.

The three techniques we worked were all required techniques for the next test that Richard and I take. I felt pretty good about them, if a little rusty, but I need to practice a lot more. This was the last practice for me this week. I have PT on Thursday. I'll be able to train regularly -- at least twice a week -- starting next week.
 ]]></body>
	<date>03-17-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="541">
	<title><![CDATA[I *thought* I was going to train tonight...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[... but something came up. My parents went out of town and I need to go take care of their cats each night this week. Additionally, I have a heck of a lot of work to do and I'm putting in some overtime. Meanwhile, Robin and I have a lot going on too, including going out of town this Saturday. So, I won't be training until next Tuesday.

The idea is that I'm supposed to train once a week and go to PT twice a week. After a week of that, I'll be done with PT. My Therapist simply wants to make sure that I'm healed enough to train, and if not, work with me some more to get me to that point.

The upshot is that I'll be back into the swing of things in another week or two!
 ]]></body>
	<date>03-11-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="528">
	<title><![CDATA[More on my physical therapy...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My shoulder is definitely getting better, but I'm still not training. I found out, sort of by accident, that I missed a test while I've been gone. At first I was pretty upset, but on further reflection, I've accepted the fact that I simply could not have done it while my shoulder is healing. The last test was hard enough on it.

I showed the therapist some ukemi a week or so ago. She was then able to give me some exercises that will help with the movements we do when we fall. I'm looking forward to getting back into training, but I'm apprehensive too. We'll see how it goes.
 ]]></body>
	<date>03-02-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="495">
	<title><![CDATA[Toenail troubles...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night, I pulled the toenail off my right big toe -- the one that was injured in October. Three months later, the toe is feeling a lot better, but the toenail is dead. I noticed that it was about to come off and got some good advice from the folks on this board on how to care for the toe.

It's kind of funny that toe injuries are so common, but I'm glad I've only suffered one in four years of training. My toe feels a lot better now without the dead toenail hanging on it. A new one is already growing, and people tell me it'll be about a month before the new one is grown out.
 ]]></body>
	<date>02-13-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="493">
	<title><![CDATA[No training for a (hopefully short) while.. .]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I was afraid this would happen, but between going to physical therapy three times a week for my shoulder, and the lousy weather we've been having, I haven't been able to train at all for the last three weeks. I may not be able to make it for another month or so. That's frustrating, to be sure.

The good news is that my shoulder is doing much better, so when I do go back, I won't hurt so dang much!
 ]]></body>
	<date>02-11-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="460">
	<title><![CDATA[Working on the simple things. . . yeah, right!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Classes tend to be slower when we have new students. Last night, we worked on only two techniques, ikkyo and sankyo, but the practice was excellent, nonetheless. I'm not taking ukemi right now because I'm supposed to avoid aggravating my injured shoulder. 

These are primary techniques, and I do them pretty well, but -- and this is a good thing -- my sensei still finds several aspects of my technique to correct. These corrections were refinements, but they were very helpful. I try to leave my ego behind and be grateful when I'm not doing something perfectly, and I definitely appreciated the pointers last night. They may have been primary techniques, but they're not simple.

I was working with two other partners so I wouldn't have to take ukemi. For the ikkyo, I was working with the other fellow at my rank and a new guy. For one iteration of the technique, the new guy was my uke, and his ukemi felt a bit stiff (as is natural). I finished the technique, and the other guy pointed out that I finished the technique going off at an odd direction. I pointed out that that seemed to be where the new guy wanted to go and I didn't want to force the technique. This statement was met with much skepticism, and I was a bit insulted that. The new guy was uke for my other partner next, and sure enough, he too noticed the stiffness right away. I was vindicated, but did not mention anything. My other partner decided to stop the technique and help the new guy with his ukemi, instead of working with what he was given. 

I won't say that's the wrong approach, but I'm beginning to feel that we're doing too much talking and "peer instructing" in class. I may say something to our instructor in private and see what he thinks. For myself, I think it's getting annoying. I know I do it too, so I've been making more of an effort to be quiet and not correct/instruct too much when I'm working with somebody. I think there's a balance that needs to be found. It works best with experienced students where our ukemi points out flaws and nage gets a chance to correct it on his own before being bombarded with a lot of helpful advice. 

Overall, though, it was a good class. There wasn't any acrimony between my partner and me, and my reaction to all the talking has more to do with the fact that several times I looked around last night and everyone was either talking or listening and nobody was training. [:--(] Additionally, it was frustrating not being able to take ukemi, so I may have been a bit grumpy.
 ]]></body>
	<date>01-14-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="450">
	<title><![CDATA[Eastern States Camp report published...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My report on the AAA Eastern States Camp, held in late September, has been published in the latest issue of Aikido World (the newsletter for the AAA). I knew they were going to publish it, but I'm surprised that they published the whole thing without cutting my criticisms from the article.

I start physical therapy today for my shoulder. The last time I did PT (for my ankle), I had to stop going to aikido for nearly three months. I want to avoid that this time. The problem last time was twofold. First, I had to go to PT two to three times a week, which made it hard to get to the dojo (which is 40 minutes away). Second, I was in a lot of pain, and that made training, when I could get to the dojo, pretty difficult.

This time, I'm in less pain, and it's in my shoulder and not my ankle. It is comparatively easy to avoid stressing one's shoulder; an ankle is [I]always[/I] engaged in some activity whether one is sitting or doing technique. If I can work out the schedule, I'm likely going to continue to go to practice, but not take ukemi. I also need to be careful with the weapons work as that has strained my shoulder in the past.

I'll post more when I know more. The last class went well, but my shoulder was very sore afterwards.
 ]]></body>
	<date>01-12-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="444">
	<title><![CDATA[Great news -- losing weight!!!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm pretty happy today. I just got back from the doctor with a prescription for physical therapy for my right shoulder. The PT really helped my severely strained ankle, so I have high hopes for my shoulder.

More to the point, the last time I was at the doctor's office was in May. That's also the last time I was weighed. I've lost 30 pounds since that last visit! With the weight loss, I've noticed that ukemi drills and overall practice has been easier for me.

I'm not following a specific diet right now, but I'm trying to control my portions and keep my activity level up. A lot of what I'm doing is applying some of what I learned when I went to Weight Watchers. One particularly good strategy is splitting meals with my wife when we go out for dinner. She's thin, and can seldom finish a full restaurant meal anyway. We'll order something we both like and each eat half. We save money that way too! 

Of course, regular physical activity helps too. I know a lot of people don't find aikido to be a good work out, but those folks must be thinner, and in better shape than I am. I just had my 30th birthday (on 12/29/03), and I'm really feeling good about my diet, activity level, and the (overall) progress I'm making in aikido. 2033 was a pretty good aikido year, and I hope to do as well, or better, in 2004.
 ]]></body>
	<date>01-08-2004</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="423">
	<title><![CDATA[A disturbing revelation...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I don't want to go into too much detail here, but last night I found out that somebody I respect and consider a friend used his aikido skill in a largely inappropriate manner.

All in all, it sounds like it was a pretty minor confrontation, but it still shouldn't have happened. My friend and I talked about it for a bit and I think things will work out okay.

More to the point, I hesitate to judge too harshly, and I'm glad we could talk frankly about it.

I would make this a private entry, but I'm sure at least some people read my journal, and I think the questions raised by this experience are interesting.

The big question is how much responsibility do we have for each other in the dojo? I tend to be a bit of a loner, so my initial response was that what other people do on their own time is their own business, not mine.

But, I [i]was[/i] a bit angry when I found out what happened. There is a link between me and the other members of the dojo. This is not my only social group, nor even my primary social group, but I entrust the people with whom I train with my body several hundred times a training session; they do the same for me. Additionally, we are all working toward the same goal (broadly speaking, anyway) and helping each other toward that goal.

So after a time, I've come to feel a kinship with my dojo-mates. The relationship is kinda like with a family, but not one's close, immediate family; cousins, maybe. And the bottom line is that I do care what happens with them. They seem to care what happens with me.

I don't want to overstate the relationship, for it [i]is[/i] loose, but it is also real.

The challenge for me is to show compassion and not disapproval, and to maintain some detachment. I wasn't there, and I'm not sure how I would have handled things, so I shouldn't judge too harshly.

There is a paradox in the relationship between me and those I train with. Ultimately, I can only be responsible for myself, my actions, and my choices. But I also have a responsibility to my training partners as uke and nage, kohei and sempai.

There is a connection, the question is how much I should care beyond what happens on the mat. I think I know my answer and I'm happy with it. ]]></body>
	<date>12-19-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="422">
	<title><![CDATA[Dealing with pain...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I had another good class last night. We did a lot of break falls, and my sempai, Micah, complimented me on how well I was falling. It's good to know that my ukemi hasn't gotten too rusty during my break.

Naturally, break falls can be rather hard on one's body; or at least on my body. I had to pay special attention to maintaining proper form for the falls or I'd risk aggravating my previous injuries, or even worse, causing new injuries. Ukemi, in a way, is self-correcting. With practice, we learn how to avoid doing the things that hurt. :-)

I've got one or two small injuries -- a toe that got stepped on pretty hard, and a bruise here or there -- but three major injuries. The first is my left ankle, which I sprained in two places pretty severely a couple of weeks before my wedding in April of 2002. I took some time off from aikido for physical therapy at the beginning of 2003 -- 14 weeks or so. This was after spending most of 2002 wearing an air cast and doing my best to keep up in class, but training really aggravated the ankle pain. The physical therapy worked pretty darned well and my ankle is at 95% health. I was able to go back to regular training in March of this year. After I got back into training, I spent a lot of time working on my tenkan and zengoundo movements to minimize the strain I put on my ankles and knees.

The second is the carpel tunnel syndrome in my wrists. This was a preexisting condition that I've had since high school. The aikido training actually helps with the problem as I've felt less pain and had fewer problems after I started training more than four years ago. I think the wrist stretches and the pins help keep my wrists supple. While I was out for the physical therapy on my ankle, my wrists flared up and I started wearing braces pretty much all the time for a few weeks. Now I will sometimes wear the braces at work (computer work) and sometimes to sleep. Overall, I've been pleased at the beneficial effect training has had for my wrists.

The third major injury is to my right shoulder. I've injured that should before when I was first learning how to do forward rolls. Even before that, I had tendinitis in that shoulder (actually in both shoulders) from lifting weights. But things had mostly healed until this past summer when I injured it again. We were working on one of the kumijo when ukejo's jo get's planted on the mat and he goes over it into a break fall. The break fall isn't always necessary, but we were doing it this time. I was ukejo, and when I went over, the jo sliped and my arm got stretched out behind me. The result was probably a small tear in the muscle. I feel pain on the posterior deltoid and the point of the deltoid. I've probably got tendinitis there again as well. Considering how well the PT worked for the ankle, I'll probably be seeing my doctor after the new year about my shoulder.

In the meantime, the biggest problem I have with it is when I slap while taking a side fall or break fall. I found last night that if I slap closer to my body, the shoulder doesn't hurt. So just like I spent a lot of time getting my turning movements so that they didn't hurt my ankles, I'm going to spend a lot of time working on slapping when I fall. The thing is, when you do things right in aikido, it shouldn't hurt.

In general, I find that after I've been training consistently for a couple of months, a short break, a skipped class, can help me recover enough that I'm not too sore from exertion or aggravating my injuries. I tend to dislike the breaks, but I want to be able to train for a very long time so staying physically healthy is a prime concern. A little wear and tear is normal, and we train hard, but I'll be thirty in ten days, and I'm beginning to feel that fact that I'm not 18 any more. ]]></body>
	<date>12-19-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="420">
	<title><![CDATA[Getting back into it…and boy am I sore!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last Saturday (12/13/03) was my first time back in class for about a month and a half. The class went well. I was nervous about coming back, but I wasn't too rusty and everyone was very welcoming.

I lead warm-ups before class, and they were literal warm-ups. The dojo is unheated, and it was 28 degrees F outside when class started. It felt only a little cooler inside. We did a few aiki taiso and then practiced our empty hand strikes as ways of warming us up. Our exertions also warmed the dojo. 

As I said, practice went well. I was, however, a bit surprised about one thing. We were doing a lot of taisabaki, and everyone's strikes were soft and slow. I had to consistently ask my partner to really strike well. I expect this from the new students, but those who've been there a while shouldn't have needed the reminder. It makes me wonder if I was doing the same thing before I took my sabbatical.

I was sore for two days after class. I was very physically active during my break from aikido, so I thought I'd be less sore. But aikido uses a different set of muscles, I guess.
 ]]></body>
	<date>12-17-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="390">
	<title><![CDATA[Koryu teaching versus aikido teaching techniques.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A while back, Ian Dodkins wrote on this board:
[quote]
In the past (as far as I am aware) people learnt martial arts on a one to one basis (or in very small groups) and would train consistently until they received a teaching certificate. Thus there were no grades, the training could be intense and it could also progress so that the whole sum of the teacher's knowledge could be transferred.
[/quote]

Ian, from the reading I've done recently (especially in Ellis Amdur's new book, [i]Old School[/i] and the essays found at [url=http://www.koryu.com]www.koryu.com[/url]), there were many differences between traditional koryu training methods and the typical, modern aikido training method.

For starters, the total enrollment of the school was small, and there was a lot of one on one instruction with the head of the school. More to the point, the nature of the skill set for the arts seems to be different than modern aikido. I've read a lot of descriptions for traditional schools that read something like, "[I]school-name-here-ryu[/I] was founded in 1690 by [I]founder's-namehere[/I]. It consists of 64 techniques for the sword with additional training in naginata, bo, and yari." In other words, there seems to be a fixed curriculum.

Aikido, on the other hand, focuses more on principles of body movement, blending, etc. My understanding is that, historically, O Sensei categorized the attacks and techniques he practiced and taught somewhat differently than we do now. The attack and technique naming system that we use today was instituted by Kisshomaru Ueshiba, with input from Tohei and others, during his tenure as doshu.* My understanding is that the standardized techniques are meant to be a learning tool, but the highest expression of aikido is the spontaneous creation of technique. 

Now, I have no first hand knowledge of any of the koryu arts, but it seems that the entire curriculum of a koryu art could be transmitted to a student, and the student would get a certificate stating as much. However, with aikido, there is no official certificate stating that one has learned the whole curriculum; probably because there was no full curriculum laid out by the founder.

Regarding instructional techniques: in most cases, the koryu art was taught through kata. In two-person kata, the tradition is that the instructor would take the "losing" side and the student the "winning" side. Today, in aikido, few instructors take ukemi. That's something that I wish would change. I had an 8th dan (Yasu Kobayahsi sensei) take ukemi for me at a seminar, and it was an eye opening experience. My instructor likes to hop in and take ukemi too, especially when we're struggling with a technique and he can't immediately see why. Also, if an ancient art featured the study of different types of weapons, some students would study sword (for example), while others would study jo -- even if the students all started at about the same time. Later, they would switch, and eventually, the whole group would have learned the same things. I guess this would be the equivalent of some people learning ukemi and others learning technique, and then switching the roles after a few months. I prefer our method of switching roles every couple of throws.

Kisshomaru Ueshiba makes the point in his book, [i]The Spirit of Aikido[/i] that aikido is in between the koryu arts and modern budo in its approach. Aikido is concerned primarily with spiritual development like modern budo, but lacks competition and relies on kata-type practice like the ancient arts. I do consider our empty-hand, paired practice to be similar to kata practice, but jiyuwaza (in our school: single attacker, any attack, done continuously) and randori (multiple attackers, any attack, done continuously) are more spontaneous expressions of the principles we practice during paired practice.

* Later in the thread, Charles Hill explained:
[quote]
Pre-war, the founder did have a system of techniques which numbered in the thousands. This was continued by Rinjiro Shirata, and to some extent by Gozo Shioda and Morihiro Saito. At the Aikikai Honbu dojo, the techniques were paired down to what were felt to be the essence of the art. This was due to the influence of Kisshomaru Ueshiba, Kisaburo Osawa, and probably Koichi Tohei (I think.) This was the base of what the post-war students were taught.
[/quote]
 ]]></body>
	<date>11-24-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="363">
	<title><![CDATA[How Japanese do I want to be?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm not doing much training right now. The new house is taking a lot of time. Still, I'm finding that a lot of what I learn in aikido is applicable to periods of great stress. Staying flexible and trying to blend with perceived "threats" or "attacks" (i.e., unexpected complications) really helps me stay more centered and get more done.

The title of this journal entry is a reflection on some interesting threads I've seen lately on Aikiweb and Aikido Journal's web site. It seems that there's a spectrum into non-Japanese people who train in aikido fit. On the one side, you get guys like Don Dreager, Terry Dobson, John Stevens, Ellis Amdur, and Miek and Dianne Skoss. These are people who have lived in Japan, learned the language, and studied koryu arts and/or aikido. At the other end of the spectrum are those who are clamoring for "making aikido into a Western martial art," or trying to start "a new tradition" -- to name the titles of two recent forum threads advocating changes in aikido.

I think that at least some of the reformers are falling prey to the "bigger, newer, and better" syndrome described by Dave Lowry in this article: [url=http://www.koryu.com/library/dlowry4.html]The Classical Japanese Martial Arts in the West: Problems in Transmission [/url]. Mr. Lowry says:

[quote]
In the case of those martial arts in this country, if we trace their presence here back far enough, we can see that the problem has been that there just weren't all that many hills, green or otherwise, around. In the Fifties, judo was utterly exotic. Outside of some Japanese-American enclaves, it was little known and less practiced and taught. And even in such ethnic communities, karate was so rare that when it was publicly demonstrated in Hawaii in 1927, the event occasioned an article in a Honolulu newspaper.

Within a decade, that changed. In the Sixties, karate became commonplace. By the latter half of that decade most cities had several dojo or "studios" or YMCAs that were offering instruction in the art. In the Seventies, the green meadows available for grazing in the martial arts became even more numerous and varied. Kung-fu was added as were several other combative arts from various parts of Asia. Most of them were more attractive (because they were "newer" and more exotic, primarily) alternatives to karate and judo that had become, by then, pedestrian.
[/quote]

Maybe aikido has become too pedestrian compared to mixed martial arts (MMA) for some. These people admire aikido, and somehow wish to retain its techniques (and maybe its philosophies) while at the same time stretching it to fit into the sport-fighting mentality. They want to do away with the "anachronistic," traditional training regimen and replace it with more sparring, non-traditional attacks, and cross-training/defense against other arts. 

The desire to constantly evaluate one's own training and look for ways to improve is a good one. It is also natural to look at ways of changing or being different. I found an essay on the Internet called "The Kendo Reader" by Noma Hiroshi. It addresses this process of evaluation and improvement:

[quote]
In Zen Buddhism, there is the teaching of Shu, Ha, Ri. If we take for example the game of chess, Shu - to obey or adhere corresponds to the first stage of practice when one studies and adheres to the basic moves that have been set down by others. When a certain amount of progress has been made through ones own efforts and ability one begins to break away from this mould, and this is the stage of Ha, to break. If further progress is made with the training then eventually a natural breaking free from the conscious attempt to be different will occur, and finally without being aware of it one will part entirely from all such intentions and establish ones own individual path, though remaining within the bounds of the original principles and rules. This last stage is known as Ri, to separate. In the beginning however on must not fail to be obedient to the instructions given by the sensei.
[/quote]

I think this is a cycle that can repeat several times in the course of one's training. Maybe those who are seeking to "reform" aikido are in the "Ha" stage of the cycle. Maybe that's not at all what's happening and there will be no "Ri" to follow the break(s) that may occur from the influence of MMA on aikido. Still, the codification of the concept of wanting to break from the traditional training practices is as old as the training itself. More recently, Kisshomaru Ueshiba addressed the common concerns about aikido (non-realistic attacks, lack of sparring, lack of competition, etc.) in [I]The Spirit of Aikido[/I] (first published in 1984). Yet the same questions and concerns keep popping up.

Noma Hiroshi wrote his Kendo Reader sometime before his very untimely death in (at the age of 29) in 1939. His experience with Kendo training has many similarities to my experience with aikido training due to the shared cultural background of the arts. The so-called antiquated training practices are, at least, have help preserve the Japanese heritage of the art. A little bit of research shows that heritage to be big enough to accommodate doubts, questions, frustration, and innovation. It would be a shame to disregard that heritage in an effort to find something newer and better.
 ]]></body>
	<date>11-04-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="351">
	<title><![CDATA[More on randori...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It's been a little while since I posted, but my wife and I are settling on a house at the end of this week and we've been very busy. I did not attend class at all last week, but I'm hoping to make it this week to at least two classes.

The last class I attended was on the 17th of October and I ended up sustaining a slight toe injury during the randori practice. Toward the end of one particular exercise, nage's knee hit my right toe and bent the toenail sharply down, cutting the skin under it. I bled a little bit, but it hurt like heck. With regular applications of Neosporin, and keeping it covered with a band-aid, my toe is feeling 90% better after about a week and a half. It's amazing how something as small as a toe can cause so much aggravation.

We did a really interesting randori exercise that night: instead of lining up with the ukes facing nage, we put the ukes in a circle around nage, and everyone started out standing. The first time around, nobody's turn went very well. Our instructor finally noticed that we were all first turning to face a particular uke, and then trying to move in a straight line. We did it again, with our first movement being a simple straight line, and things went much better for everyone. The result was a very graphic demonstration of the principle of entering directly (irimi). ]]></body>
	<date>10-27-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="329">
	<title><![CDATA[A few quick notes...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Here are a few things that don't fit with the theme of the previous entry:

If I didn't mention it before, the 20-somethingth of last month marked four years of aikido training for me.

Thursday's and Saturday's classes went pretty well. I'm taking ukemi again, but I'm also really paying attention to how I roll and what kind of stress I put on my calves. It's been two weeks since the seminar and my calves are still kind of tender. I must have really battered them.

I submitted the seminar report to the editors of the AAA newsletter, [i]Aikido World[/i]. One of them replied and stated that he'll use it in the next issue, which should come out in January. The newsletter has been looking really good that last couple of issues and there's been a lot of very good content. Kudos to the new editors! I make a habit of printing the new issues in color when they come out, and posting them on our dojo bulletin board. ]]></body>
	<date>10-13-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="328">
	<title><![CDATA[That evolution of randori...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[There's been an interesting shift in our randori practice (multiple attackers, usually any attack). For the first couple years of my training, we worked on randori very infrequently. When we did work on it, we always did our slow motion randori exercise. About a year ago, after moving into our new dojo and getting some additional students, we started a routine of making Thursdays randori night.

Our basic premise was that the ukes should take nage down if they can, and once down, the exercise isn't automatically over. Instead, nage should work to find openings and try to get back up. This kind of practice can be dangerous, especially for people with less developed ukemi, so we minimize the risk by practicing in slow motion. 

I've mentioned our slow-mo version of randori before. Briefly, the point of this exercise is to practice randori with everyone moving in a slow walk. The real trick to this exercise, from uke's point of view, is presenting realistic slow motion attacks and reactions. So, there's training for the ukes as well as for nage. We also check our reactions by trying certain things at full-speed and then trying to replicate those things in slow motion. When doing the slow motion exercise, nage gets at least twice the number of ukes as he would at full speed.

Our randori practice has evolved over the past year. We've gotten to the point where we're occasionally doing full-speed randori. Naturally, these can be pretty intense exercises and we get some bumps, bruises, and even a little blood at times. At the same time, we've reevaluated some of what we're doing and modified aspects of the practice when we've needed to do so. For example, one of the things that we do as nage is use a lot of atemi when on the ground to open up space. As a result, the people taking ukemi started to get in the habit of holding nage down, but protecting themselves from attack at the same time. This kind of behavior reached its logical conclusion when I, and two others, took down our senior student, covered up, and ended up simply holding him without attacking him. After that we realized how silly and unrealistic we were being and we started attacking without anticipating nage's response. 

We have a pretty "hard" style of randori practice characterized by full-out attacks from the ukes and a fair amount of atemi from nage. Frankly, we're somewhat proud of this, but maybe we shouldn't be. This hard randori is different from the type of randori that is standard from the AAA standpoint. AAA randori is characterized by slightly restrained attacks from uke and more technique from nage. The attackers quite purposefully held back a bit; they'd seldom all attack at once, in stead holding back a split second while nage dealt with another uke. They would also seldom take nage down once they got ahold of him. Atemi didn't seem to work as well for nage, possibly because the attacks were not as committed as what we do. And lastly, the whole idea of moving one person into another or using techniques like shihonage or sankyo is frowned upon as being a bit unsafe.

Our hard randori can be a problem, though. Thursday, I introduced the "not quite randori" exercises that Sato sensei taught us at the seminar. A couple of the guys had trouble backing down their responses to an appropriate level. In short, they were trying to win the randori, even though we weren't doing randori. Eventually everyone got the point, but it was disconcerting hard difficult it was to get everyone to take their aggression down a notch. 

But, our randori practice continues to evolve. The week before, our instructor suggested that we not take nage down as soon as we can. His intent is that nage will get more of a chance to work through problems encountered during the exercise. While not a bad idea, I wonder if this isn't cheapening the exercise by make failure less inevitable. I really don't know how I feel about this change. Of course, it may not be a permanent change, but is instead, something we do on occasion to work a different aspect of the exercise. Time will tell.

The bigger change is that our instructor has become more methodical in teaching us a series of responses, or tools, to use during randori other than using a lot of atemi. We've always focused on using three specific movements: entering (irimi), turning (tenkan), and fading back (tenshin). In addition to these blending movements, we relied on strikes (performed in a kokyu-like manner) to open space. Our randori would be like this: blend-blend-strike-blend-strike-pile on.
Lately, our instructor has started teaching us to use various kokyu nage techniques during randori. Our instructor's approach has turned out to be similar to Sato sensei's approach at the seminar (I doubt this is a coincidence).

The reason for the change is probably many-fold. A few months ago, I expressed frustration that, as uke, I was continually getting punched despite my best efforts to avoid nage's strikes. My theory is that my mass was such that it was difficult for me to react to the strike during a full-out attack the way a smaller person might. So I'd get hit and continue my attack; I wasn't getting thrown. The natural conclusion was that maybe the atemi didn't always work and we needed something else. Furthermore, after our last full-speed randori session, our instructor was disturbed at all the minor injuries (bumps and bruises) and talk of who hit whom where (good natured talk, but disturbing nonetheless). Thus the shift from atemi as a primary tool to using it as a last resort. Kokyu nage is now being taught as more of a primary tool. This change has my whole-hearted approval.

I think these changes are good overall, we may be getting softer (not taking nage down as often), but I also think our randori will be more effective, especially with less reliance on atemi and better tools, like kokyu nage, at our disposal. I guess my ideal is that we'll continue to emulate the AAA style of randori without giving up the full-out attacks from uke. ]]></body>
	<date>10-13-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="321">
	<title><![CDATA[Not participating fully...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[For the week and a half since my injury at the seminar, I've been taking it easier in class. I've not been sitting at all and I haven't taken ukemi. The numbness of my feet during and after the seminar really freaked me out. Since that time, my feet have gotten back to normal, but my calves have been on the verge of cramping from time to time.

I'm glad I took the break, but not taking ukemi makes for a much less enjoyable class. We'll see how things go this evening; I'll mostly likely participate fully in class tonight.  ]]></body>
	<date>10-09-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="316">
	<title><![CDATA[Finally, the seminar report...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've posted my report on the AAA Eastern States Camp [url=http://www.users.fast.net/~jxa127/Pics/Seminar_report.pdf]here[/url] (Adobe PDF document).

Here's a brief summary:

We had a good mix of empty hand and weapons practice. Hiroaki Kobayashi sensei (6th dan, son of Yasuo Kobayashi shihan) was an awesome instructor, as was Andy Sato sensei, the head of our organization. We did a lot of work on randori, and I was really impressed with the methodical process of building to full randori that Sato sensei presented.

I also injured myself slightly in a rather odd way. The details are in the report. ]]></body>
	<date>10-07-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="306">
	<title><![CDATA[An outsider's view of aikido...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This past Saturday (9/27/03), I attended the 2003 AAA Eastern States Camp. I'll soon be posting some thoughts on the seminar and a link to a report I wrote. Meanwhile, I thought it would be interesting to share some of my wife's observations of the seminar. Robin wanted to get away for the weekend, and even though she doesn't study aikido, she decided to go with me to the seminar. She even offered to drive! This wouldn't be the first time she saw aikido practice, but it would be the first time she's seen people outside my dojo practice.

Before falling asleep in the hotel room Friday night, Robin and I watched a martial arts competition on ESPN. We only caught the kata competitions and frankly, I was under whelmed. The contestants marched onto the mat and barked their names and the type of kata they would each do. Two women did bo kata that were pretty impressive, but reminded both Robin and me of band front twirling. One guy did a sword kata with a katana that included throwing the sword in the air and catching it again -- God help us all. One guy did what looked like a fairly traditional Kung-fu style chain whip kata that looked fantastic. It reminded me of what I saw in "Iron & Silk." One thing all contestants had in common was that their kiai were exceptionally loud and the made angry faces while shouting.

With this fresh in her mind, Robin showed up to watch the last part of the morning session, the dan tests, and a portion of the afternoon session of the aikido seminar. Robin's first observation was how relaxed and happy everyone was. This was in stark contrast to what she saw on T.V. the previous evening. She noticed that there was a lot of grinning and laughing; even during technique and randori, most of us seemed calm and relaxed.

Two of the people testing for nidan were rather petite women -- like my wife. Robin was very impressed to see them do the randori portions of their tests. Robin was very impressed with the calmness and creativity she saw. In the afternoon, Robin got to see me do two-man randori and she said that I looked very gentle! I certainly didn't feel that way, but I didn't feel overly aggressive either.

Robin really like Sato sensei's brief lectures on randori. She especially liked his point that randori is about letting go. That if we get caught up in a single attacker, or linger too long to watch our beautiful throws, we'll get blindsided by another attacker. He stated that this is analogous to life where things just aren't going our way. In response, we have to let go of what we think should happen, and adapt to what [i]is[/i] happening.

Overall, Robin was very impressed with what she saw, and I was gratified to hear her impressions of the seminar. ]]></body>
	<date>10-03-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="298">
	<title><![CDATA[A great class last night; going to a seminar...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night's class (9/25/03) was fantastic! We continued working on kokyo nage throws with a lot of energetic ukemi demonstrated by everyone. I was proud of myself that I didn't get too winded even though I was doing a lot of continuous attack-roll-attack-roll cycles. 

After working on technique for a while, we started our regular, Thursday night randori practice. We actually only started regular randori practice in the spring (about the time I started this journal). Prior to that, we practiced randori somewhat infrequently. 

Anyway, after several months of working on randori, everyone is doing very well. The first couple people, lower ranks, did the slow motion randori exercise. The other senior students, our instructor, and I did the exercise full speed.

My turn went very well. I had two ukes, and they could do any attack. My opening movement was a simple entering movement past the uke on my left. I was then able to deal with each attacker individually. I went through a couple of cycles of easily dealing with each attacker, but just as I thought, "hey, this is going pretty well," I got caught up with one attacker and was quickly grabbed by the second one too. Still, I got a lot of compliments on my randori exercise. I returned a lot of compliments too -- everyone really looked good.

This evening, my wife and I are leaving for the Aikido Association of America's eastern states camp in Chestnut Ridge, New York (not far from NY City). I can only attend on Saturday (tomorrow), but I'm looking forward to a full day of training. We're not settling on a house this coming Tuesday; we walked away from that deal. But, we're having a home inspection on another house Tuesday, with settlement at the end of October! Things worked out the way they were supposed to work out. I get to go to the aikido seminar instead of staying home to pack for moving. 

I'm finishing up the paperwork that we need to give to the AAA headquarters. My plan is to get it ready to mail, but see if I can give it to somebody at the seminar. ]]></body>
	<date>09-26-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="296">
	<title><![CDATA[Is aikido really a defensive martial art?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The answer depends on what one means by those terms. To me, offense means initiating a confrontation, starting the fight, or at least picking the fight. However, most people seem to use the term to refer to which party attacks first, or even if one can attack at all. When we practice as nage, we are almost always responding to an attack. So, we logically conclude that what we are learning are primarily defensive techniques.

Still, an observation from my wife really made me think. She doesn't study aikido and really doesn't know much about it. She came to my rank test in June to take pictures and document everyone's test. After the test, she started asking me a lot of questions about what she'd seen, but the funny thing was that she confused who was the attacker and who was being attacked.

I think what threw her off was that we often strike our attacker during our opening blending movement. Not only do we strike, but we often interrupt the initial attack and put ourselves in a better position than the attacker. The end result is that the attacker initiates the attack, but the responder strikes first.

Now is the person responding on the offense or the defense? 

Like many dichotomies, trying to categorize aikido as either defensive or offensive is a futile exercise. After all, what's the difference between a [I]do[/I] and a [I]jutsu[/I]? Is aikido hard or soft? Is it internal or external? Compared to what?

It's natural when starting something new to want to categorize it and make it fit into a familiar mental framework. As I've gained more experience with aikido, I've been able to see how it doesn't fit into preexisting categories, but has become its own category. The distinctions and dichotomies have become a lot less important.
 ]]></body>
	<date>09-25-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="294">
	<title><![CDATA[Splitting uke; not as gross as it sounds...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night's class (Tuesday 9/23/03) went very well. We worked on a variation of kokyo nage that had a feel similar to sokomen irimi nage in how we split uke's posture. It was neat both working on it as nage and experiencing it as uke. This particular series of kokyo nage techniques were very gentle which is in contrast to how we perform a lot of our techniques. Especially with our pinning techniques, we tend to lead with strong atemi as part of our blending movement, but kokyo nage techniques in general, and last night's in particular, tend to be very soft so that uke hardly feels thrown until he hits the ground.

This variation we practiced last night is, essentially, new to our dojo. Our instructor has spent some time looking at tapes of Toyoda sensei (the late head of the AAA) and recalling things he'd learned when visiting Matsuda sensei's dojo near New York City. Matsuda sensei is (I think) head of the AAA eastern region. It's a good feeling to try something new. ]]></body>
	<date>09-24-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="270">
	<title><![CDATA[Bonked on the head by a bokken...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This will be another short entry. Saturday's class was very good and I got a lot of individual instruction. This could be construed as a negative, but I really needed some pointers and I'm glad I got them. Primarily, I need to work on my tsuki with bokken; loading it up more and releasing the strike slowly and with full extension. A general problem that I have is that I need to bring my back foot along with my body movement, or at least I need to get better at doing that.

Yes, I got bonked on the head while practicing the first kumitachi. My partner pulled his strike, so it was more of a bonk than a bash. It didn't hurt much, and I discovered a problem in my technique. *sheepish grin* A lot of the problems I experience in aikido tend to be self-correcting. 

Finally, A conversation we had during a break was thought-provoking. I brought up the point I made a few posts ago that aikido provides one model of confrontation, but it leaves out things like passive-aggressive conflict. My instructor agreed with me, but said that the conflict we model in the dojo is the most dangerous conflict one can encounter. Other forms of conflict can be dealt with using the same tools we use at the extreme end of the continuum, but applied with sensitivity to what we're given. For example, one can use aikido to take down somebody who is trying to get away rather than attack (as I've done). That got me thinking about how to deal with non-physical passive-aggressiveness. I'll have to give it more thought. ]]></body>
	<date>09-15-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="263">
	<title><![CDATA[Back in the saddle again...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night (9/11/03) was my first night back to class for more than a week. The week previous, I was sick. At the time I thought it was a stomach flu, but now I think it was more stress than flu. Either way, it was a painful upset stomach combined with exceptionally sore muscles I acquired by helping my parents repaint and re-carpet their bedroom over Labor Day weekend. Then, this past Tuesday, an hour or so before I was going to leave for class, my wife and I got word that her mother had had a mild heart attack. Thankfully, she's fine and it was only a mild attack, but naturally I missed class to visit with my mother-in-law.

Last night's class was pretty good. I showed up early (as I usually do on Thursdays) and worked primarily with Micah (our most senior student) during the open mat session prior to class. It was good to work with him. We worked both on my ukemi and my technique. Most of the work on technique was in refining things like foot placement and hand/arm position. The rest of class went pretty well. My slow-mo randori session went pretty well, but it could have been better. 

I was going to go on a bit about something related to training; atemi, ukemi, etc., but I don't think I will for this entry. Suffice it to say that today is a nice day, just at the beginning of fall. The air is cool, but not cold. The humidity is, for once, quite bearable. There's a nice breeze, and all seems right with the world -- or mostly so. The Ibuprofen I took to counteract the reminders of last night's training is starting to work. Tomorrow is weapons class, and life is good. ]]></body>
	<date>09-12-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="235">
	<title><![CDATA[The limits of aikido spirituality...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The whole concept of spirituality and its effect in our lives is difficult to talk about in a coherent fashion because the topic can encompass religious beliefs, ethics, cultural norms, etc. So, for instance, I'm a rather religious person, so my sense of ethics is rooted largely in my understanding of and belief in a certain expression of faith. But, there are atheists who would agree with me on many, if not most, of those ethics, and other people -- some within my church congregation -- who would strongly disagree with me. So, one's religious practice is not necessarily directly linked to one's ethics. 

Where does this leave aikido in relation to my ethical, moral, and religious values?

Peter Goldsbury's two essays on aikido and religion (found at the Aikido Journal web site) have been exceptionally helpful for me in answering the question above. Peter provided a lot of historical background to put O' Sensei's views on the topic in context. Three truths really hit me from the essays: (1) O' Sensei saw aikido as a religious practice, (2) he did not require his students to do the same, and (3) his son took the essence of his father's teaching, but placed far less emphasis on the religious underpinnings of those teachings. Much of this can be found in Kisshomaru Ueshiba's book, [I]The Spirit of Aikido[/I]. But even second doshu's explanations are the spiritual side of aikido are a bit "out there" compared with much of what I read and hear today. For instance, the concept of ki seems different today than what appears in [I]The Spirit of Aikido[/I] -- less an idea of the energy of the universe, and more a metaphor for body mechanics and physical energy (at least in my dojo).

In my experience, religion is never discussed on the mat, but we do, at times discuss what might be called the "practical philosophy" of aikido in relation to technique. This is where O' Sensei's ideas come into play. 

We work from the basis that aikido is meant to be a way of resolving physical conflict in such a way that we harm our attackers as little as possible while still dominating the confrontation (and staying unharmed ourselves). An example of practical philosophy is with something like ikkyo or gokyo; we could break the elbow, but that would mean losing the connection with our attacker that allows us to control him an therefore control the confrontation. By protecting our attacker's vulnerable elbow, an act of compassion, we end up with more effective technique. I think these observations are consistent with O' Sensei's teachings.

I've not been in many physical confrontations, but I have been in a lot of non-physical ones. I think aikido can serve as a good model or metaphor for dealing with non-physical conflicts, but it's not the only model. I find the principles of being open, blending with an attack instead of clashing with it, and acting with concern for the attacker as good ways of dealing with both physical and non-physical attacks. Those concepts also complement my religious beliefs to a certain extent. But, aikido has limits on the spiritual side. For instance, aikido is good when you have somebody who is clearly oppositional, but what about somebody who is being passive-aggressive? They don't offer a clear attack, and while aikido principles may still come in handy, that's not what they're designed for.

Where we really get into trouble is when an instructor or student will extrapolate the spiritual lessons of aikido so that aikido becomes their only spiritual filter. I don't think O' Sensei had much to say about aikido's relationship to sex, drugs, and rock and roll, for instance (though I may be wrong). This is where an instructor can really get in trouble, especially if his or her personal life is in opposition to what he or she espouses. 

For me, aikido is a tool for implementing what I consider to be right or wrong, but not for determining right or wrong. Aikido is a good tool for resolving all sorts of conflicts, but not the only tool. O' Sensei and second dushu's views on the spiritual aspects of aikido are very important to me -- especially in providing historical context -- but they are not the last word on the matter.

When I started this essay, I pointed out how an atheist and a Lutheran (me) could hold certain values in common. I think this is because those values (the injunctions against killing and adultery, for instance) have become a cultural norm or are seen as expressing a universal truth. I think the same can be said of aikido principles, but on a smaller scale. Regardless of their source, or the religious/ethical orientation of the practitioner, aikido principles provide a clean model for dealing with many kinds of conflict. ]]></body>
	<date>08-28-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="230">
	<title><![CDATA[Moving our dojo; leading class again...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I made it to all three classes last week, and it felt good to get that much training in. Our attendance is way up compared to even a few months ago. I may not have mentioned it before, but just about a year ago, in August of 2002, we moved our dojo. We didn't move far, just a few miles, but there were some trade-offs. Our old dojo (which I also helped build) was on the second floor of an old, converted cigar factory. It had plenty of mat space, beautiful wooden floors, and a high ceiling (great for weapons work). But, as nice as it was, the location was awful. The building was located in an alley, and we had only a small sign on the outside of the building to indicate our presence. I say the building was located there because the owner sold it and it was demolished so a parking lot could be built in its place. That was the impetus for us moving to a new location.

The new location is in a much nicer location -- in a small shopping /office plaza right off one of the main streets in York, PA. The trade-offs are that the place is smaller, has lower ceilings (though not too low), and is more expensive to run. It is, however, much more attractive from the outside and as attractive from the inside -- though without those beautiful hardwood floors. My wife, Robin, and I painted a very cool sign that can be seen well from the highway. That, along with some other, fairly easy, promotional activities (three fold flyers left in a mailbox on the door and a sign by the road we use every few months) has led to a lot of new students joining and staying. The trade-offs seems to have been in our favor.

So attendance is up. Each class last week featured eight to ten students. This may not seem like much compared with other dojo, but for us, that is double the normal class size of a year ago. Tuesday's class was good, but unremarkable. Thursday was also good, but I was somewhat disappointed that a number of students decided to show up 15 minutes after the start of the open mat session, and I said as much. The problem is that latecomers only get time to warm up before class starts, and they miss out on the chance to work with their sempai on questions they may have. After I said something, everyone got up and worked on something until class started.

Saturday, Richard and I lead class since our instructor was out of town. We'll be doing the same thing this week too, at least on Thursday and Saturday. Generally, I think things went well, and I enjoy leading class. The new students seemed to enjoy the class as well. Still, it is difficult to teach aikido at times. Richard and I each taught approximately half the class, and we each stuck with stuff that we knew pretty well. Still, I felt like I made some mistakes, and I felt as though I could have shown things better. Time, more training, and more practice teaching will make things go more smoothly. ]]></body>
	<date>08-25-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="221">
	<title><![CDATA[Inspiration from unexpected places...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I only made it to one class last week. Home buying chores kept me away last Tuesday, and a cold kept me from training on Saturday. But, tonight it's Tuesday again, the cold is shaken, and the home buying stuff is (at least temporarily) on hold. I'm going to train!

Last Thursday's class was good. We had one brand new student in addition to two of the three "not quite as new" students. Additionally, we have five regular, "older" students. It was a pretty good crowd. I felt gratified that our instructor used me to demonstrate the long version of irimi nage. That's a technique where, as uke, I've had some trouble in the past, but I seem to be doing better now. The way we do the technique, nage enters strongly to uke's rear, and then drops uke strongly to his rear while performing a tenkan movement. This is followed by a second tenkan where uke is raised up, and then a zengo undo movement where uke is bent over backwards. Nage finishes off by stepping into and sort of under uke's bent back for the throw.

The most difficult thing for me as uke is continuing the attack after being dropped so strongly with the first tenkan. This is especially true for me as I'm overweight because, quite frankly, my belly gets in the way of my legs if I don't do things right. Over time, and with some help from my instructor, I've learned how to continue my attack on that technique until I'm thrown. At times I've thought it was silly to focus so much on the ukemi for just one technique, but after a while, I've found that the skills I've learned for that technique carry over to the ukemi for other techniques. It seems self-evident to say that now, but it's one thing to know the skills should carry over, it's quite another thing for that to actually happen as the result of long hours of training.

I'm also comforted that others of my dojo-mates have similar problems despite their not being overweight. This further reinforces my observation that nearly everyone struggles with the same handful of problems at certain times in their training. Nearly everyone struggles with forward rolls and break falls, with aspects of the ukemi for ikkyo, and with the ukemi for irimi nage. These are just three examples of areas where I've been saying to my partners, "yeah, I've struggled with that too." They may be struggling for different reasons, but the solution is usually the same: more practice with occasional special attention to the rough spots.

So, despite the disadvantage I have of being overweight, I'm comforted that, like my dojo mates who have their own challenges to overcome, I can still make progress through regular practice. But more than comfort, I also look for inspiration. Inspiration seems to come to me when I'm not looking for it. Ellis Amdur made some very inspiring comments to me at the seminar I attended this past January. I certainly didn't expect them, but they've really helped me since then. They've also signaled a shift in my own perception of myself.

Other inspiration comes from [i]very[/i] unexpected sources. I recently watched Daredevil the movie on DVD. Over and above the whole influence that superhero comics like Daredevil had on me as I was growing up was a special feature on the DVD called, "Moving Through Space: A Day with Tom Sullivan." Tom Sullivan was the sight impaired consultant for the movie. Sullivan has been completely blind since birth. The short feature on the DVD shows him playing golf, lifting weights; there are pictures from his high school days wrestling. The guy is in excellent shape -- much better than me -- he looks like he's in his early forties, but was actually born in 1947.

Anyway, the man leads a very active and seemingly good life, in spite of being totally blind. It's inspirational to see somebody with that much of a handicap doing so well. I can't help but think that if he can do it, surely I can, given my much smaller challenges. ]]></body>
	<date>08-19-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="199">
	<title><![CDATA[Is competition good or bad?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I feel like I'm ready to start the "Lake Woebegone" section of the Prairie Home Companion radio show: "It's been a quiet week here at the dojo. . . " But, it has been a quiet week.

We're assimilating two new students, both women. They're friends, and they practice Tai Chi together at another dojo. They seem to be adjusting well to the way we do things in our dojo. As usual with new students, rolling is causing them a bit of trouble. We also had a guy stop in last night who had practiced for a few months in Ohio a couple of years ago. He did pretty well last night and has joined the dojo.

Things are busy for me personally. My wife and I are in the process of buying a house. There's a AAA summer camp the weekend before we settle, and I'm trying to figure out how I can go to the camp and still do the things I need to do for moving. Robin is planning on coming with me to the camp, though not to train. Still, it'll be nice to have her along.

I said I was going to write about competition, so I shall. The arguments for competition in aikido generally make the following points: (1) competition exposes one to unscripted, unpredictable action; (2) it adds pressure to ones training that can simulate the stress of a real encounter outside the dojo, (3) it is a good way to counter the problem of ukes who cooperate too much with nage's technique.

The arguments against competition generally go like this: (1) O Sensei found the idea of competition anathema to aikido; (2) using competition as a training tool can gradually change the art to being focused on competition -- I've read complaints that this has happened to a certain extent in some karate, tae kwon do, judo, and kendo dojos; (3) any competition requires rules which, by their very existence, make for an artificial environment. There are other arguments on both sides, and a lot can be found at the Aikido Journal web site, especially in its forum. 

My purpose is not really to rehash old arguments. Rather, I'd like to point out a couple of things that I've read that really make sense. At my dojo, and in our organization, we do not compete. While I don't think competition is inherently bad (and I'd love to study kendo if I ever get the chance), there are at least two compelling arguments against it in my mind. 

The first is that O Sensei felt that competition was counter to the ideals expressed in aikido. This is not enough in itself to end the argument, but understanding his reasons may be enough. [I]The Spirit of Aikido[/I] by Kisshomaru Ueshiba addresses this point. I'll have to look it up again, but the gist, as I remember it, is that competition rapidly becomes the end rather than the means of martial arts practice. It is important to remember that O Sensei and his son were most likely looking at the issue from an organizational, not individual, perspective. O Sensei put a lot of store in the idea of cooperative practice and building harmony. This precludes the kind of win at all cost attitude that can quickly become a part of practices geared toward competitions.

The second argument is that competition really does not add anything to aikido practice. Again, this is from an organizational perspective. Kenji Tomiki, the founder of an aikido school that does incorporate competitions, was a professional educator and student of Kano -- the founder of modern Judo. Tomiki felt that competitions would serve as an excellent teaching tool. He also probably wanted to emulate Kano's success with Judo. Further, I think that Tomiki's initial work on a sporting form of aikido was intended specifically for the university physical education program at the university where he worked. In that context, in that time (1950s-1970 ish, I think), Tomiki's efforts make a lot of sense. But, Peter Goldsbury has posted on the AJ bulletin board that he feels he doesn't need competition as a teaching tool. He's also said that competition does not add anything to aikido.

In short, competition is not needed to fill perceived flaws in aikido training -- the three arguments for competition I highlighted above. In our dojo we use randori (multiple attackers using any attack), and jiyu waza (single attacker continuously attacking with any attack) to provide unscripted situations for nage. Testing, which at higher levels incorporates those exercises, adds stress and exhaustion to the factors affecting nage. Good ukemi (see my posts below) strikes a fine balance between cooperating with nage and resisting him.

Having said all of that, I at one point looked at competing in a tournament -- until I looked at the rules and saw that pretty much nothing of what I knew was legal. Still, the idea of seeing how I'd do against people studying other styles still intrigues me.  ]]></body>
	<date>08-08-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="191">
	<title><![CDATA[I got clocked last night...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[...right in the jaw. I'm feeling okay today after the Ibuprofen and ice treatment last night, and some rest. It happened when I was practing munetsuki sokomen irimi nage with Micah. This particular technique involves a strong movement turning uke's head away. My problem was that I tilted my head instead of turning it thereby leaving my jaw in basically the same place. I got hit on the left side of the jaw, and that stretched or strained the right side. I must point out that Micah is one of the most gentle people I know, even with technique, and he felt bad about hitting me so hard. This was a training accident of the kind that happens when people train with energy, not the result of Micah trying to "teach me a lesson.". The rest of practice went well, but the mild jaw injury took a lot out of me afterwards.

I'm finding more often lately that I need to make many minute adjustments to my technique and ukemi. Things like turning my head instead of tilting it. I've also been working on where I put my weight during tenkan movements and how I turn my legs, with special attention on avoiding injuring my ankles (again) or knees. I also noticed while looking at photos from my recent test that my back foot was coming up quite a bit. So, I'm also focusing on bending my front knee more and sinking from the hips at the end of technique and when I'm striking.

This is a good development, and one that I've been through a couple of times before. It seems that just as I achieve some level of competence with aikido, I'm introduced to another level right away. I certainly know more than I did when I started almost four years ago, but I know less than I need to do techniques the way I'm being taught to do them.

I'll probably be posting some ideas on competition and aikido soon. It's a topic that's come up recently on the discussion boards. ]]></body>
	<date>08-01-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="186">
	<title><![CDATA[Thoughts on cross-training...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Hi all,

I've wondered about cross-training and why so many people find it tempting.

A number of people in my dojo, including me, have prior experience in a striking art like tae kwon do. We've all moved on, for one reason or another, to aikido. We don't cross-train, and we focus on the traditional aikido attacks -- though we strive to make them strong and centered attacks. In other words, despite our previous experience, we haven't found anything lacking with the traditional aikido attacks.

Another reason people cite for wanting to cross-train is that they feel aikido does not offer something that they think they need. While each art has its advantages and disadvantages, my feeling is that aikido is a complete martial art for my needs. People will say that aikido does not use strikes; we practice using strikes as nage during techniques. People say that aikido can't be used aggressively. We sometimes train in an aggressive manner with nage initiating with an attack and then using uke's response to create the technique. We also sometimes preemptively throw uke.

Of course we still work toward peaceful resolution of conflict as our goal. More specifically, although we sometimes look at how to cause our attackers damage, we feel it is important to not harm our attackers if we can avoid it. What we don't do is the stuff I learned in TKD -- blocking strikes and counter-striking. My TKD training was good, and it actually came in handy once or twice, but I hadn't learned how to immobilize and pin, just how to strike and harm. Aikido gives me more tools to use in a conflict than I got from TKD.

Now, I only trained in TKD for a couple of years, so I'm not sure what more advanced study would have taught me. I also feel that my TKD experience has been beneficial for me as an aikidoka. The contrast between the two arts has been informative, and there [i]are[/i] similarities.

Having said all that, there are those who cross-train, and they feel the additional training really enhances their aikido. A lot of it, I'm sure, depends on their attitude toward the additional training.

Ellis Amdur cites, in a couple of essays, Nishio sensei as one who has seamlessly combined arts like karate, judo, and koryu weapons work with aikido. But, Ellis has also stated that few people seem to really be able to cross-train successfully. He's said: "I know of only a few people who have truly combined aikido with something else -- most people simply superimpose the second art on aikido creating a mess." (from [url=http://groups.google.com/groups?q=Ellis+Amdur+Nishio&hl=en&lr=&ie=UTF-8&selm=eamdur-2803990845200001%40blv-lx103-ip38.nwnexus.net&rnum=1]here[/url]).

Finally, time is a big component in the decision to cross-train. If you have the time to train in two arts, would you also have more time in a single art? ]]></body>
	<date>07-24-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="175">
	<title><![CDATA[A one-sided look at aikido...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night (July 17, 2003), I went to the only class I'll make this week. A student who hasn't trained with us for two or so years, on of my sempai, joined us for class last night. It was interesting working with him as he's been training at another dojo and his ukemi is rather different from ours now. One thing I had trouble with was him spinning back to back with me when I tried the opening blend for ryotetori kaitenage uchikaiten omote. I think I know how to fix the problem, but I didn't figure that out until later. He and I did a few rounds of jiyu waza that felt pretty good. This was during the open mat session prior to class.

During the open mat session the three of us who are senior students were trying to figure out how to do juji nage (sometimes known as juji garami). This is a throw into a break fall with uke's arms crossed. Both Richard and I had trouble with this technique. We each had a side that worked correctly and one that didn't work. This is a well-known phenomenon and I'm sure that pretty much every aikidoka has gone through this at some point. Still, it is a bit frustrating to have a technique go well on one side, think I'm doing the same thing on the other side, and have it consistently not work.

My wife and I are heading out to Pittsburgh this weekend so I'm going to miss out on a chance to teach tomorrow. Last Saturday's class went pretty well except for the henka waza that I tried to teach, and Richard tried to help me figure out. I asked our sensei about it last night (having missed class on Tuesday), and he said we had it about 80% figured out. The weapons work went well. I think I was able to explain jodan geyashi (I'll have to check on that spelling) -- the high level reversal -- pretty well. 

I enjoy leading classes. I don't think it's an ego trip as I've always enjoyed teaching and coaching. Instead of ego gratification, I feel a strong need to provide a good class so that the other students really get the most value for their dues. At the same time, I've got some leeway as I'm an assistant instructor who is not expected to know as much as the head instructor. In any event, I feel I've got a good sense of where my strengths and weaknesses are. I try to answer the questions I encounter to the best of my abilities, and I defer a lot until I can talk to our sensei at the next class. I feel that it's good to make a point of following up on questions as soon as I can; there's usually one or two for each class I lead. ]]></body>
	<date>07-18-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="166">
	<title><![CDATA[Dealing with the heat...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yesterday was hot. It was ninety-four degrees at 6:30 p.m. while I was driving to class. Our philosophy regarding the climate is like that expressed by second doshu in [i]The Spirit of Aikido[/i] -- we adapt our training to the climate, not the other way around. The upshot is that even though we have air conditioning, we seldom use it. 

Heat, really heavy heat, affects me differently than what I normally feel when physically exerting myself in class. Normally, I'll get very hot and out of breath, but a short rest (as when we're watching our instructor demonstrate the next technique) is usually sufficient for me to recuperate. With the extreme heat, however, I get fatigued all out of proportion to the physical exertion I've done. I also quickly get a little nauseated. 

My ego is soothed somewhat by the fact that everyone was affected one way or another by the heat last night. We dealt with it by taking small breaks (with our instructor's encouragement), drinking water, and working on techniques a bit more slowly. The whole tempo of class was slower last night, which is a good thing because I was having a hard time paying attention at times. I noticed a similar thing happening to one of the students when I was leading class this past Saturday. I took that as a cue to take a break and get some water. That seemed to do the trick. ]]></body>
	<date>07-09-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="160">
	<title><![CDATA[More responsibility and some good classes. . .]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've had a week of good practices. Last week, on Thursday, I got mad as hell at my instructor, but we worked things out pretty quickly. In short, I was honestly confused about something, and he thought I was deliberately holding a contrary and incorrect view. We almost argued about it, with me getting very angry that he wasn't understanding me; his attitude was very closed. This was all before the class actually started. After bowing in, and demonstrating the first technique we were to work on, my instructor took me aside (probably noticing that I was rather angry) and we worked out the problem that was confusing me. He apologized for his attitude, I learned a bit more about ukemi, and class was good from there.

In the course of almost four years of training with my instructor, I've gotten really upset with him two or three times. Each time, we've been able to quickly get to the heart of the problem, solve it, and move on. There is a lot of mutual respect in our relationship. Some would argue that confronting one's instructor is disrespectful. In some circumstances (as when studying a koryu art) it is. But aikido is a modern martial art, and I'm practicing it in America. With that in mind, I think it is disrespectful to not confront my instructor. Obviously, I don't attack him, and I don't pick a bad time (like during class). Instead, I pick a good time and as calmly as possible present my complaint. This approach has worked well dealing with co-workers, family, my wife, etc. It's comforting that I can practice conflict resolution in an "aiki manner" with my aikido instructor too.

Last Saturday, my instructor had Rich (the other 3rd kyu) and me finish leading class because he had to leave early. Before he left, he officially told the class that once somebody reaches 3rd kyu, he considers those people to be assistant instructors. So now there are four of us. With summer here and our instructor away at different points on vacation, we'll have a lot of opportunity to lead (a better word that "teach") classes.

This is additional responsibility, but Rich and I have been helping and even leading classes for a while now -- long before the test. It's more responsibility, but not more pressure. Our instructor doesn't expect us to teach at his level. Everyone understands that what we teach is sound, but if we don't understand something, we'll table it for later and ask our instructor at the next class.

Truth be told, I'm very excited to have official sanction to lead a class. In the past, I've ended up instructing when I simply meant to have an open mat session (in which I'd supervise, offer some hints, and work on stuff that I need to work on). The problem in one instance was that all of the people who showed up for the open mat session were so new, they didn't know what to do without instruction. Now, I can purposefully lead a class with the instructor's explicit permission. I enjoy teaching quite a bit. I'll enjoy learning how to teach aikido too.

Saturday after class, I picked up the blue belt that my instructor ordered. It didn't bother me much to not have it, but it was annoying to be the only person wearing a plain white belt at practice.

Tuesday's class was great. We worked on two concepts at once: (1) what happens if your initial body movement is inappropriate for uke's attack, and (2) what if he has a knife? It was an interesting class, and it was nice to do something other than the standard kihon waza. ]]></body>
	<date>07-03-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="157">
	<title><![CDATA[Secondary attacks as uke...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[In rereading some of my entries, I realized that I complained about cold and wet weather (cold's okay, but cold and wet is hell on my injuries), and yesterday I complained about hot weather. Boy am I a grumpy aikidoka when it comes to weather!

Paula Lydon posted an interesting observation on the Aikiweb board:

[quote]
I love my Aikido training, but sometimes I wish my uke would follow through on their attack with multiple strikes if I miss the first timing/movement, or a full choke, etc. I've had years of prior Jujitsu training and our theory was that you'll likely be in a compromised position regarding posture or positioning if attacked and so your 1st response probably wouldn't work (or 2nd and 3rd too, just keep moving!). Chances are you'll get hit, cut, pinned, choked...then what? How to handle a situation where you're already down or half out? I get together with my old Jujitsu buddies from time to time just to romp with what-to-do-when-I-inevitably-screw-up or gee-uke-isn't-politely-waiting-for-me.
[/quote]

Below is part of my response to her -- captured here for posterity.

This is part of our overall philosophy on ukemi. We are taught that uke must continue the attack until he or she hits the mat. We view grabs or strikes as the first part of an attack. If nage does a good job, that's all uke gets. But if nage makes a mistake, then a second punch or reversal can happen.

Let me add some notes of caution: 

(1) Be sure nage and uke both agree on this kind of training. 

(2) As uke, it is really easy to get stuck in a mindset of foiling technique and getting a second strike, or reversal on nage. On the surface, this can be a good thing, but uke has an advantae because he knows what the technique will be and can plan where he'll expose an opening. Frustration for nage occurs quickly after that. Remember that uke is nage's teacher, and wants to teach nage the technique demonstrated by the instructor. So, each attack should be made in a sincere and focused manner (regardless of speed), and as though uke has no clue what's coming.

(3) Sometimes I'll feel as though I can do a reversal, I'll get it started, nage will notice, and he'll try to reverse my reversal. The end result is a pretty ugly wrestling match. Where I train, we often realize very quickly what's happening and stop immediately. What happens is that nage has an opening, but it's not big enough for uke to really exploit. Recognize this as soon as possible and avoid the wrestling match. That way, ego doesn't get involved as much. It is enough that nage couldn't do the prescribed technique.

(4) Don't do this all the time! Often as uke, we'll take the fall, and then get up and say something like, "I kind of dived for you that time. I felt you were open right here. . ." (and go on to demonstrate). Another thing to do is to simply stop ukemi if there's an opening, point it out, allow nage to readjust, and then continue the throw. This way, the technique is kept real, and nage can learn the little adjustments necessary to make a technique work.

It can be tough to not let one's own ego get too wrapped up in this kind of training. As nage I make sure to thank uke when he or she points out a flaw in my technique -- even when I'm irritated. As uke, I work hard (most of the time) to avoid thinking that my finding openings in nage's technique makes me somehow a superior aikidoka. ]]></body>
	<date>06-26-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="155">
	<title><![CDATA[Summer is my least favorite season...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I skipped class on Saturday; my body needed the break. I guess it worked, because I came to class yesterday (Tuesday 6/24/03) without all the soreness I've been feeling the past couple of weeks. 

Yesterday's class was somewhat mixed. I was able to participate fully even though it was rather hot. As the sun was going down, shedding its last killer rays through the plate glass window in the front of our dojo, I was silently chanting, "die, you evil orb, die!"

Anyway, I'm feeling better about my tenkan movement. I've been paying attention to the how I place my feet and my weight. I'm working to avoid placing unneeded stress on my ankles and knees. A good, proper movement does exactly what I want it to, but I guess I've been fudging it and getting a bit sloppier over time.

I felt as though my instructor had it out for me last night. His criticisms were valid (for the most part), but far too frequent for my taste. Part of the problem -- at one point, anyway -- was that I was working with a new student and my instructor was doing his best to make her feel comfortable. I feel that that happened a bit at my expense. This was annoying, but not to the point of being upsetting. Part of my frustration was that I was genuinely confused about the technique, but the instructor had to spend more time correcting the new student's attacks than helping my with the technique.

I know that sounds peevish, but I was in a slightly peevish mood with all the heat, humidity, and occasion al criticism. It's a good thing I'm in this for the long haul. Ah well. Tomorrow is another class, and I'll work on paying attention and doing my best. That's about all one can do. Now if only we could get back to more temperate weather. This 90-some-odd degree crap simply sucks.

The other thing that would be nice is if I could get the dang blue belt with stripe that I earned two Saturdays ago. It's on order but taking a while to come in. For now, I'm wearing an old white belt. ]]></body>
	<date>06-25-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="151">
	<title><![CDATA[First class as a 3rd Kyu...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yesterday evening (Tues. 6/17/03) was my first class as a newly minted 3rd kyu. My shoulder and ankle injuries were still acting up a bit, but I was able to participate pretty fully in class. Testing is an ordeal; maybe not a horrible ordeal, but an ordeal nonetheless. I've found after each test that I have a boost in confidence that comes from knowing I can perform good technique even when tired and while being judged. I've also, of course, found areas where I feel I need to improve. For instance, the last test inspired me to focus on losing weight, gaining a bit of aerobic endurance, and trying to keep my joints healthy. I'm sure the sense of accomplishment and self-evaluation I feel is typical for the other six guys who tested on Saturday. As a result, there's a sense of increased energy at the dojo.

Interestingly, our instructor viewed the testing, at least in part, as a test of his teaching. One thing I noticed at the end of the test was that we all had a tendency to use a strong irimi motion, but very little tenkan. A few weeks ago, we were working on jiyu waza and I noticed that I was using irimi nage quite a bit. I mentioned this to Micah (or senior student) and he laughed, saying he wasn't surprised considering that Keith was our teacher. Irimi nage is a favorite of our instructor. I observed more of the same during our tests and mentioned that to Keith, who agreed that we should work more with some of the other tools available to us. It's not like we don't practice tenkan, or other ways of blending, it's just that we seem to put a lot of, maybe subconscious, emphasis on entering strongly.

As a result, last nights class was all about tenkan. This alone was good, but sensei also instructed me to pay very specific attention to my foot placement and weight distribution so that I can avoid putting unnecessary stress on my ankles. In some ways, it felt like I was learning the tenkan movement all over again. In the end, I realized that I'm not relearning as much as I'm refining my movements. This will be quite a challenge, but a welcome one.

One other interesting thing happened in class last night. We were working on a sokomen irimi nage (from tenkan, naturally) and Rich was having a little trouble throwing me (and I, him). Right before the throw, uke ends up with his back and knees bent. A good uke will be able to bend quite a bit, mostly at the knees, before losing his balance. I can do that, but sensei thought I couldn't because it felt as though I was pretty stiff at that point in the technique. I demonstrated to him that I'm actually able to bend quite a bit. He saw, realized that he was probably trying to be too nice to me, and decided to stop being so nice. In the course of figuring this out, we concluded that it was not resistance, or stiffness that my nages were feeling, but simply my mass. To them, it felt like I was taken as far as I could go without them forcing me to bend more. To me, it felt as though I wasn't taken far enough, and I had more room to bend, but no incentive to do so. 

It feels good that I can be rather fluid and flexible as uke in spite of my size. It also feels good that my size can make me more dangerous or at least more difficult to take down. I just wish my size could make me faster and give me better endurance.  ]]></body>
	<date>06-18-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="149">
	<title><![CDATA[I passed!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Saturday's test went very well, and I passed both rank tests: 4th and 3rd kyu (we have an 8 kyu system). I'm feeling pretty good about it, but it was a tough, hot, and exhausting test.

Things started a bit slowly. Our sensei had a couple errands to run before the test. He would have done them sooner, but his girlfriend has been in a car accident the previous Thursday (she's okay), and his schedule got a bit messed up. Micah, our most senior student, warmed us up starting around 9:30 a.m. The test proper started around 10:45 a.m., and didn't end until about 1:30 in the afternoon.

First, we had four guys (Robert, Chris, Kurt, and Zach) testing for 7th kyu. Rich (the other 5th kyu), Aaron (3rd kyu), Micha, and I simply sat and watched during that part of the test. I was, at least in part, very nervous at that point because I knew my time was coming soon and I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to endure the heat and humidity during the test. I was afraid that I'd have to drop out and that I wouldn't be able to complete it. I worked on calming myself and focusing on just what I needed to do. I was confident that I knew the rank requirements, so I focused on that.

Three of the four guys who tested for 7th kyu also tested for 6th -- Zach was too new to test for two ranks. I took ukemi for Robert for part of his sixth kyu test. He did very well with shomenuchi kokyonage, katatetori shihonage, and katatori nikkyo. We switched ukes after that and I got a chance to rest while those three finished their 6th kyu test.

Then Rich and I were up for our 4th and 3rd kyu test. This had to have been the longest portion of the testing. It is difficult to summarize a test that lasted close to 45 minutes (including a short break). Typically, I did pretty well with the kihon waza, and standard exercises. I occasionally drew a blank when sensei asked for variations, but was always ready to figure something out. 

During my test, my injured shoulder started to hurt and sensei had me stop taking ukemi. This had the effect of speeding the test up a bit as Rich and I no longer had to take ukemi for the techniques we were testing. The problem is my right rotator cuff, so slapping the mat hurts on one side, rolling hurts a bit on the right side, and being thrown in a rotary manner hurts too. I later explained to sensei that the pain in somewhat cumulative -- that is, I was fine for about two hours of training, but after that it started to hurt too much. 

Still, the test went on, and I got more fatigued due to the heat and my exertions. Halfway through the 3rd kyu test, sensei stopped and had us take a short break for water. I spent the rest of the test having to pee. :--/ I very clearly remember the test, but a few things really stand out. I found I didn't have to think much about the techniques -- or maybe I was only thinking about the techniques. Either way, I was thinking a lot less than I normally do when training.

I got a couple of corrections from sensei during the test, but they were due to sloppiness on my part from fatigue, and not from lack of knowledge of the technique. I had a funny thing happen on ushirotekubitori kokyunage. I did well with the kihon version, but when I tried the stepping backwards variation, I messed it up. I tried one more time, it didn't work, and sensei said something about showing him a variation that worked. I ended up pulling from the deep, deep recesses of . . . somewhere . . . a variation that was a lot like sokomen irimi nage, but still enough like a kokyo nage to pass muster. I was even able to replicate that variation a couple of times. 

The suwari waza portion of the test went well, and quickly. Then I got a quick rest while Rich did jiyu waza. My rest was short, however, and I had to do jiyu waza too. I felt pretty good about it and it went well. Our sensei accelerates the test requirements a bit by giving us the 2nd kyu jiyu waza requirements for 3rd kyu.

With that, Rich and I were done with our tests and Aaron was up for 2nd kyu. I sat out for most of his test, but jumped in at the end for two man randori with Rich as the other uke.

All told, it was a good experience and very good for the dojo. In the end, I felt that it wasn't really my test, but our test. I felt deep gratification for my ukes and I hope I gave my nages good ukemi. I definitely need to increase my aerobic endurance, and I really need to concentrate on being healthy and avoiding/treating injuries. I feel as though I handled my nervousness pretty well, but I was truly surprised at how nervous I really was. In the end, I keep learning the same lesson that mental preparation and a good attitude are at least as important as the physical preparation of knowing the techniques. ]]></body>
	<date>06-16-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="145">
	<title><![CDATA[Pre-test jitters…]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tomorrow, Saturday June 14, we are testing at my dojo, and I'm nervous. The most senior student in the dojo taught class last night and did his best to calm us down. I'm most likely testing for 4th and 3rd kyu tomorrow (we have an 8 kyu system). Our instructor may ask to see 2nd kyu techniques as well, but I doubt I'll be formally tested for three belt ranks. If so, I'll fail the 2nd kyu test because I still don't know the 22 count jo kata very well.

The reason a couple of us are getting tested for more than one belt rank is that we haven't tested in quite a long time. For the most part, that's not a problem, but it is nice to get the test and to use the time before it to focus on a certain set of techniques.

I'm feeling pretty confident that I know what I need to know. Our sempai pointed out that nobody ever does as well on a test as he or she would like, and my wife pointed out that I was nervous for the last test and I did fine. I think I'm actually less nervous than before, but we'll see.

I'll post later and describe how the test went. ]]></body>
	<date>06-13-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="136">
	<title><![CDATA[Great warm-up...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yesterday (5/29/03) I woke up very sore around my arms and shoulders. My elbows were sore, my wrists were sore, my neck was stiff, and my shoulders hurt. I had a fair amount of pain throughout the day, but some rest and Ibuprofen seemed to help a bit. Still, I was worried about not being able to participate much in the evening's aikido class.

On Thursdays, I get to the dojo early and open it up for an open mat session prior to the regular class starting time. This way people come early, warm up, and work on some things that they need, or would like, to work on. As I was pretty sore, I decided that I needed a warm up to my warm up. I've found the aiki taiso exercises to be a very gentle way to get my body moving and ready for more strenuous work, so that's what I did last night. Surprisingly, most of the soreness left my body, and except for some residual achy-ness, I was able to participate fully in class.

One of the things I like about the aiki taiso exercises is that they provide a chance to work on fundamental body movement principles with direct application to technique. In other words, they are not just a warm-up. The thing is, I'm not sure what the origin of these exercises are and what their stated purpose is (besides the obvious one of teaching proper body movement). I'll have to do some research.
 ]]></body>
	<date>05-30-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="135">
	<title><![CDATA[Being a Christian and studying aikido...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A major conflict that I see between aikido and Christianity is that, from what I've read in the Bible and been taught throughout life, Jesus advocated a life of service to our fellow man. Most importantly, he makes no distinction based on a person's station in life. If anything, he treated criminals and other "scum" with more compassion than rich people or religious officials. In other words, he turned the social order on its head.

This is all well and good for Jesus, but how do I emulate him? More specifically, his admonition to "turn the other cheek" has always given me problems. I want to be able to defend my self and my family if threatened, but that goes against my understanding of what Jesus taught.

I see aikido as a middle way. In some of our movements, we literally turn the other cheek when responding to a strike, yet we maintain our center and have control of the conflict. Ellis Amdur wrote two things at [URL=http://www.shindai.com/articles/amdur01.htm]this site[/URL] that I find particularly interesting.

The first is that studying martial arts is a hobby. This is not meant in any way to denigrate the seriousness of our study. He says:

[QUOTE]
My use of the word, "hobby," is not patronizing or belittling. It is an attempt to reduce things to a proper proportion. There are survival-based activities (farming) as opposed to enriching activities (gardening). When we have accomplished survival, we have the luxury to flourish and enrich ourselves as humans.
[/QUOTE]

The other thing he said is:

[QUOTE]
I believe that aikido offers a lot of people the chance at experiencing something clean and pure -- a practice of relationship that holds all the opposites -- insecurity/confidence, aggression/peace, taking/giving, and metaphorically, at least, cuts a line right through the oppositions. I'm not saying that people always, or even most of the time, can do this. But I think of Yasunori Kuwamori or Shirata Rinjiro, and see that aikido can be a vehicle to this end. Not enlightenment. Simply a clean line through life.
[/QUOTE]

Yes, aikido can be a very effective method of self-defense. But it is also a way to study relationships (or at least conflict in relationships). I feel a deep conflict between what I want in life (security, stability, and comfort for my wife and the family we plan to have) and what I believe Jesus calls us to do -- give up our possessions, serve other people, turn the other cheek.

I won't pretend that aikido offers the whole answer to this conflict, but it helps. I have a way of studying conflict and building responses that are neither direct opposition nor complete submission to my attacker. Those responses can help me to better serve my attacker.

These are some of my thoughts on how aikido and my faith interact. For the most part, though, I just practice and my concerns are a lot more mundane. :)
 ]]></body>
	<date>05-30-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="127">
	<title><![CDATA[Attacks in aikido...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Attacks in aikido are the source of a lot of discussions in dojos and on web bulleting boards. The major complaints are that (1) the attacks aren't done well (nage feels no threat), and even if done well, (2) they're too stylized (not realistic enough).

If attacks aren't being done well, then that's a problem with the training. The intent of strikes should be to hit nage. The intent of grabs should be to either immobilize nage, or set uke up for a follow-up strike. Strikes should be performed in such a way that they don't track nage's movement (they need to explode), and uke ends up centered after the strike -- unless his or her balance is taken. The strikes can be slowed down so that they don't hurt much) if nage messes up and the strike connects. They can also be done in such a way that they carry a bit of force even if done slowly.

I like to think of the one-handed grabs we do as simple versions of the two-handed grabs. From a technique perspective, there's not a lot of difference between a katatetori kaitenage and a ryotetori kaitenage, but the two-handed grab [i]is[/i] more difficult to deal with. Alternately, we have an attack where uke grabs nage's shoulder with one hand and punches his face with the other. They key is learning that the technique is basically the same whether the attack utilizes one hand or two -- if uke does his or her part.

Regarding effectiveness: strikes like shomenuchi and yokomenuchi represent the kind of energy one might get in an attack. Shomenunchi is a lot like an overhead ice pick knife attack (like in the movie Psycho). Yokomenuchi can be like a baseball bat swung at your head. Menutsuki can be like an upper cut. The energy is what's important. Grabs can happen for many reasons. If you're a policeman, the grab might be to keep you from drawing your weapon. The grab may come because you've attempted to strike somebody.

In time, one learns that the principles of movement we practice are valid regardless of the attacks we face. I do see value in practicing against so-called unconventional attacks, but I also feel that doing so too soon can obscure what we're trying to learn.

My own personal goals, practically since I started, included being the best uke I could be. Strong, centered attacks are a vital part of achieving that goal. ]]></body>
	<date>05-22-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="121">
	<title><![CDATA[The value of working slowly...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yesterday's class (5/15/03) was really good. We started out working on ushirohijitori kotegaeshi. Both the other fellow who needs to know this technique and I were having trouble with it. Our sensei went into more detail with the technique and explained something he admits he hadn't explained as well before -- the feel for kotegaeshi from the ushiro attacks is different than from tsuki or katatekosatori. Initially I was frustrated when trying to learn the new nuances of the technique, but after a time, I started to get it. I still need to work slowly, but the technique is coming along nicely. That was the first breakthrough of the evening.

The second breakthrough was my first time as nage in full speed randori. We first did our regular slo-mo drill, and that went pretty well. Our sensei addressed my with the exercise by comparing full speed attacks to the slowed down versions we use in the slo-mo drill. Following the slo-mo drill, we did randori at full-speed.

The full-speed exercise was very interesting. For starters, I did pretty well at keeping the attackers off of me. I did slo-mo randori with four ukes, but the full speed exercise had two. I found that the experience was startlingly similar. In fact, even though things were happening much more quickly, I didn't feel overwhelmed at all. So, the slow motion exercise really did do a good job of preparing me for full-speed randori. 

In a broader application, yesterday's class really reinforced for me the value of working slowly when learning something new. The body doesn't really know if it is moving slowly or quickly. So, working slowly is a good way to train the body while giving the mind enough time to really observe what's going on. Eventually, the instructions and observations from the mind merge with the body's memory of the movement to form a set of programmed responses (almost reflexes) that require little thought and can be performed quickly and precisely. This is what I think the second doshu meant when he talked about his father's idea of ki-mind-body integration (in [I]The Spirit of Aikido[/I] by Kisshomaru Ueshiba). ]]></body>
	<date>05-16-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="117">
	<title><![CDATA[A great class...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tuesday's class went very well. I was able to participate fully without any pain from my injured shoulder and ankle! I didn't even hurt after class, except for the regular soreness from exercise.

We worked on a couple of my test techniques, and things felt pretty good. I've really got to work on tsuki kokyonage -- the timing can be tough to get. ]]></body>
	<date>05-14-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="115">
	<title><![CDATA[Frustration Thursday and a Demonstration Saturday.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Things went pretty well on Thursday (5/8/03). We worked on jiyu waza (free technique, usually against an unknown attack). This is one of my requirements for the upcoming test, so it felt good to work on it. Generally, I feel I did pretty well. I ended up responding with a lot of iriminage, but I also pulled off some shihonage and kotegaeshi. The best feeling technique was when I responded to a yokomenuchi strike with a blend that led right into gokyo -- and I hadn't even planned it that way! That's what jiyu waza's all about.

The frustration came with our regular Thursday evening slow motion randori exercise. Briefly, the point of this exercise is to practice randori with everyone moving in a slow walk. The real trick to this exercise, from uke's point of view, is presenting realistic slow motion attacks and reactions. Anyway, I've slowly become frustrated with the way the exercise has been going for the last few weeks. Friday, I shared my frustrations with my instructor. He seemed to agree and has said we'll be doing more full speed exercises to we can get a better understanding of what we're simulating in slow motion. I've generally found that talking with my sensei is the best way to deal with frustration that won't go away on its own.

Saturday, we had a demonstration at a local elementary school's May Day celebration (a relatively common festival-type thingy in my area). The demo went well, but as one of the primary ukes, I got tired before the end. Still, having my sensei throw me (all 330 lbs. of me) in a series of breakfalls made quite an impression. Two things really stand out. My instructor and I performed the fifth kumitachi. We first did it with me as uchitachi (striking sword -- I lose), and then we switched roles with me as uketachi (receiving sword -- I win). I didn't realize he was going to suggest that until we were doing the demo, but it came off feeling great. I don't think either one of us held back much. The other thing that really struck me was our kiais while demonstrating jo and sword suburi. We performed the demo on a stage in a very noisy elementary school gymnasium. And yet our yells bounced off the back wall and cut through all the noise. Pretty cool!

I'm gathering my thoughts on aikido attacks to be posted in the next journal entry.  ]]></body>
	<date>05-12-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="106">
	<title><![CDATA[Uke and Nage...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I had a good class last night even though my ankle injury had flared up. Among other things, we worked on one of the suwari waza techniques required for my next test. I did okay, but cornered my instructor after class, asked him to take ukemi for me, and only then figured out (with his instruction) what was going slightly awry. We also did some techniques after working on the sword movements that are similar to them. 

Lastly, I got nailed in the nose while helping sensei demonstrate a technique. I simply did not see his arm coming in. Luckily, I did not bleed, and it didn't hurt much after five minutes or so. But, anyone who says that aikido is too soft ought to train with us for a bit. We have very few injuries at my dojo, and this particular one was just one of those things that happens. I told my instructor afterwards that I just did not see his arm at all. He said that he thinks my arm was blocking my vision a bit (a natural consequence of the technique), and he probably should have gone slower the first time or two he demonstrated. Live and learn.

This brings me to my discussion on the relationship between uke and nage. I'm not going to argue that getting injured, or even just hurt but not damaged, is desirable. However, for our training to really work (i.e. for it to really lead to mastery of aikido), there must be good, strong, ukemi. In fact, I'd go so far as to say that good ukemi is more difficult to master than good technique -- especially in the early years of training (where I am now). Good, strong ukemi can occasionally lead to uncomfortable pops in the nose.

The relationship between nage and uke, at its base, is like a kata. We have a predetermined attack and a predetermined response. So, if we're practicing katatori ikkyo, you know I'm going to grab your gi, and I know you're going to perform the ikkyo technique and pin. I don't know if you're going to go ura or omote, and I don't know how you plan on opening (blending with my attack and off-balancing me), but after a while, I've experienced the different ways of doing things, so I'll pretty much know what could happen. 

Yet even knowing what's supposed to happen, a good uke will not try to anticipate the technique, thereby ending up ahead of nage. Instead, uke attacks with strong intent in a centered manner (not overbalanced). He or she then needs to continue after the initial attack. If nage succeeds in taking uke's balance, and provides a good lead for uke, then the next step will be for uke to fall safely. But, nages mess up pretty frequently. A good uke will be sensitive enough to feel when he or she is back on balance and/or can launch a second attack. Sometimes I can hit my nage before he can throw me. Sometimes I get hit. Sometimes I can reverse, sometimes uke reverses on me. 

This leads to good training for nage. It is important to feel one's mistakes which trying to perform a technique and a good uke will show them to you. What we don't do is intentionally try to stop a technique just for the sake of stopping it. With beginners, I moderate my ukemi a bit. I still won't go if my nage is making a big mistake (e.g. if I'm on balance and he's not), and I'll sometimes reverse (not often), but I won't be as aggressive. I'll focus more on providing smooth follow-through from my initial attack and less on landing a second one.

Nage's responsibility is the inverse of uke's. He or she much blend with the attack and be sensitive to uke's energy, be nage is also responsible for not breaking uke. The best way to not break uke is to not force the technique, and to be aware of uke's ability to fall. In short, nage must perform proper technique, lead uke's balance, and throw or pin in an efficient manner. This leads to safe aikido; much safer than muscling a technique or trying to force uke into it.

The most important thing to realize is that uke is nage's teacher. This is why I think it is harder for to be a good uke than a good nage. Uke must learn to teach well. Nage must learn to learn well. ]]></body>
	<date>05-07-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="101">
	<title><![CDATA[The way we train...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Recent discussions on various bulletin boards have prompted me to think a bit about the way we train in aikido. Nearly every aspect of training (weapons, testing/ranking, atemi, cooperation/resisting, realistic vs. stylized attacks, etc) is discussed at great length on the Aikiweb and Aikido Journal boards. Every time I think I've read the last word on a subject, it comes up again on a slightly different tack. 

The problem is that most of these discussions eventually come down to an individual's goals and expectations. A further problem is that one's goals and expectations will probably change during the course of training. Finally, there is a persistent idea that aikido as an art can be considered apart from its practitioners. This is the root of all the "is aikido effective or not" threads.

I believe these types of conversations can be very beneficial. The can lead to more informed training and provide part of a mental framework for integrating what one learns in class. At the same time, some of the assumptions behind the discussions are very odd, or even flat wrong, from my perspective. Over the next several entries, I'm going to record my thoughts on the various aspects of aikido training. Ideally, I'll revisit them and refine them many times over the coming years.

I'm organizing my thoughts on the uke/nage relationship for my next entry. I'll need to touch on the nature of our attacks, resistance versus cooperation, the speed of our practice, and the value of large, drawn-out techniques. ]]></body>
	<date>05-05-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="89">
	<title><![CDATA[Finding aikido's place in the world...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Monday, my wife and I came back from a week long vacation celebrating our wedding anniversary. I missed three training sessions, but the vacation was wonderful!

Tuesday's class went well. It's good to see the same group of guys showing up regularly. We worked on two variations of ryotetori kokyunage with a pivot that I was unfamiliar with (I already know one variation). This is a good thing since our sensei has set a test date of June 14, and that particular technique is one I need to know. 

I've read some very interesting things lately about aikido; many of them contradictory and many of the highly critical of aikido. The topics range from the effectiveness of aikido techniques to the realism of the attacks we use for training. In the end, the opinions on those matters reflect the state of development of the person holding them. I think some of the opinions are very valuable, some are dead wrong, and for some, I just don't have the experience to evaluate.

The bottom line is that there is no shortcut to experience. I can learn some things from other people's experiences and stories. But I'll learn the most from my own practice. It is best to view books, video tapes, bulletin board postings, and even a teacher's instruction, as guides for my own practice. They are not doctrine that should be swallowed whole without critical thought or testing though experience. The flip side is that I need to be patient enough to give my experience time to catch up with my ideas.

Tonight I need to get to the dojo early so I can open up for an open mat session prior to the official start of class. These are usually well-attended and can be a lot of fun.
 ]]></body>
	<date>04-24-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="80">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikido and war...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Oddly, I've been reluctant to post my thoughts on the war in Iraq. This is an issue that can deeply divide people and there is much fanatical talk on all sides of the issue. But the war is a big event and even though things are apparently going well now, I feel that an examination of ethics, aikido, and the war is in order.

Pretty much everything is arguable when it comes to aikido. Conventional wisdom has it that aikido is not a religion, yet from all accounts, O'Sensei saw his aikido practice in religious terms. The Omoto religion was a profound influence on O'Sensei and therefore a major influence on aikido. I don't know much about the Omoto religion and nothing at all about the Kojiki -- a religious text from which O'Sensei apparently drew a lot of inspiration. (for more on this, see "TOUCHING THE ABSOLUTE: AIKIDO VS. RELIGION AND PHILOSOPHY
by Peter Goldsbury [url]http://www.aikidojournal.com/new/article.asp?ArticleID=2[/url]). At the same time, O'Sensei did not require his students to agree -- or even understand! -- his religious views.

In any event, it is clear that O'Sensei saw aikido as having a much larger relevance than just self-defense. For example, he said:

[quote]
Aikido is not a technique to fight with or defeat an enemy. It is the way to reconcile the world and make human beings one family.
[/quote]

and 

[quote]
The real Art of Peace is not to sacrifice a single one of your warriors to defeat an enemy. Vanquish your foes by always keeping yourself in a safe and unassailable position; then no one will suffer any losses. The Way of a Warrior, the Art of Politics, is to stop trouble before it starts. It consists in defeating your adversaries spiritually by making them realize the folly of their actions. The Way of a Warrior is to establish harmony.
[/quote]

Without context, however, O'Sensei's sayings loose some of their meaning -- or at least their meaning becomes a lot more mutable. It becomes easy to pick a quote from O'Sensei and paste all sorts of meaning onto it. The conclusions one draws from aikido practice, one's concept of the moral/ethical underpinnings of aikido, says a lot more about the person practicing than the founder.

In the absence of concrete, unambiguous guidance from the founder, we are left with our own best guesses for how aikido can relate to international events. My somewhat limited experience (~ 3.5 years of training) has revealed at least two core ethical components to aikido. (1) we accept conflict, and take control of it from the start, rather than either fighting it or running from it, and (2) we try to resolve the conflict with no harm to ourselves and as little harm to the attacker as possible. The first principle manifests itself in how we blend with an attack and the second is how we finish the attack.

In terms of the way the war is being waged, I'd argue that we at least seem to be finishing it well. From all accounts -- even accounts from Arab nations -- the U.S. and British forces are doing a good job of keeping casualties low while still achieving the objectives of the war. Yes, there has been a lot of death and injuries among civilians and soldiers on both sides. But compared to all previous wars, this one is very light in terms of cost in lives.

The tragedy in my opinion is that we could have "blended" a lot better with the international community, including Iraq, and avoided the bloodshed altogether. For 12 or so years we've been attempting to control Iraq and indirectly manipulate the people in power through sanctions and UN resolutions back by the threat of bombing. In the past two years, we've (the U.S.) has basically alienated most of our allies in the pursuit of an apparent goal of national self-reliance. We've pulled out of the Kyoto treaty, the anti-ballistic missile treaty, the international criminal court, and any real attempts at moderation in the Israel-Palestine conflict. There's no blending if one's attitude is essentially, "You're either with us or against us."

Blending might have included lifting the sanctions on all but military items and bio or chemical weapon ingredients. Couple this with true international cooperation and inspections (with a reasonable deadline). Maybe this would have led to a situation where war was a true last resort and not a first resort that was delayed for a while. Maybe that's just a naive wish.
 ]]></body>
	<date>04-10-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="78">
	<title><![CDATA[Snow in April...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Some day, we're all going to look back on this winter, tell stories, and our grandchildren will think we're nuts. Sunday night and most of Monday (April 6th and 7th) Central Pennsylvania got about 4-5" of snow. Early to mid March is about the latest that we get any snow around here. It seems the perfect cap to a very snowy winter.

The snow didn't keep me from making it to the dojo tonight (Tuesday); it has mostly melted. The cold, damp weather plays hell on my injured joints.

Still, it was a pretty good class, and I'm feeling pretty good about the techniques we worked on tonight.  ]]></body>
	<date>04-08-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="77">
	<title><![CDATA[Gokyo is a beautiful thing...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This past Thursday I had a bit of a breakthrough. For months now I've been babying a hyper extended elbow. Last month, I strained the same side's shoulder. Thursday we worked on gokyo and I was afraid I'd either re-injure everything or simply not be able to take the ukemi.

The last time we worked on gokyo, I knew ahead of time that it was coming up and I worried about it for the week prior to that class. I was right to worry (or so I thought), as I couldn't take the ukemi for it. It hurt too much. Even worse, I had trouble doing the technique and ended up very frustrated. 

For some reason things went a lot better on Thursday. For one thing, my elbow and shoulder are feeling better. I also asked my partners (we were in a group of three) to take it slowly -- which is different than taking it easy -- on the injured side. To my surprise, I found I could take the ukemi without a problem. This was a big boost for my confidence.

Most importantly, though, I saw how small and efficient a movement gokyo really is. I'm finding that I tend to make our pinning techniques more complicated than they need to be. The problem lies in my tendency to think of things in a step by step manner and to put pauses between the steps. I'm finally beginning to learn how to do the techniques more fluidly with more efficient motion. It feels good that something has finally clicked.

Part of the breakthrough is due to the fact that I was working with one of my sempai. For some reason, my sempai don't come to class very often, but when they do, I learn a heck of a lot. As one who has missed blocks of class for various reasons over the past few years, I fully understand how hard it can be to get to train. I don't blame my sempai for not being there, I just wish they [i]were[/i] there more often. Anyway, I aspire to be then kind of sempai that my sempai, Micah and Aaron, are.

Today's class went well too. I'm feeling a lot better and I'm hoping to be training harder in the next few weeks. We worked on the first jo kata. Weapons work is one of my favorite aspects of aikido and I've found that I really like the jo. There's a sense of expansiveness and momentum with the jo whereas the sword feels more compact. The jo kata was a joy to work on. I really enjoyed the feeling of going from one strike to the next while working to make each individual strike a good one.
 ]]></body>
	<date>04-05-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="72">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikido: a study in power...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yay! I could train tonight! I held back a bit because it's still a little hard for me to breath, but overall I felt pretty good.

I've been thinking a lot about power recently -- partly as continued fallout from re-reading [i]Dueling with O'Sensei[/i], partly because of a visit from a friend I hadn't seen for four years, and partly because of a comment my wife made recently.

One of the essays in Ellis's book deals with abuse of power. It was an interesting essay because he highlighted the relationship between teacher and student -- and the inherent potential for abuse. I've never been abused, but I know those who have (not by a martial arts instructor, but by family). I got to thinking that any time there is a relationship based on trust and unequal power (student/teacher), there is a potential for abuse.

So, the first thing I wondered is what keeps some relationships from straying from one of shared or equal power to one of unequal power? I think part of it is that some people have the strength (often borne of painful experience) to never tolerate abusive behavior. My friend, whom I hadn't seen for several years, is divorcing her husband of less than two years because he was unfaithful to her. This was not abuse, but betrayal. My friend, drawing on the support of her family and close friends, after trying to work things out with her husband, that her power lay with her ability to leave the situation. It was painful for her, but staying would have been more painful. 

Conversely, I think healthy relationships show that there is a power in being vulnerable. Something my wife said to me was that by admitting her fears and accepting them, she was better able to deal with then than if she tried to deny that she had them. Sometimes this means admitting a fear to a spouse, and sometimes it means simply admitting one to one's self. This reminded me of our main stance, our hamni. We stand with one leg strongly forward, but with our arms relaxed (I realize this is different from the way some people do it). In short, we do not try to cover our vulnerabilities. Instead, we accept them and present an open stance. (See, this does have to do with aikido!)

So, I've recently been exposed to three aspects of power: (1) unequal power, as in a student/teacher relationship (2) power borne of an inner strength, and finally, (3) power borne from an understanding and acceptance of one's vulnerabilities. I see all three in an aikido technique.

When we begin as nage, we accept our vulnerabilities and are open to an attack, but we realize that our vulnerabilities are not liabilities, so we blend and become the center of the relationship ? power from inner strength. Throughout, we are in a state of unequal power. We have the advantage over the attacker and can even (ideally) teach him the error of his ways.

I used to think that ethics was where one put the balance between individual rights and the good of the community. Now I think there is something deeper. Ethics, in part, is how we choose, as individuals, to use power. I don't think power happens without relationships, and I feel that aikido gives me a way to study relationships and explore the use of power in a safe manner.

As a final note, I realize that unequal power is seldom a bad thing and does not automatically lead to abuse, but the potential is there. Most student/teacher relationships lead to enlightenment, self-discovery, and learning. I do feel that a good marriage is based on love, openness, and trust. An interesting by-product of which is strength through mutual vulnerability. Hmm.
 ]]></body>
	<date>04-01-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="71">
	<title><![CDATA[Preparing for a test...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm still sick, but I'm getting better. I should be able to train tomorrow evening, but I most likely won't be at the top of my game.

For the past month or so, we have been slowly gearing up for a test. Overall, I feel pretty confident, but I'm still going over the required techniques and other requirements in my head. There's a new round of attacks for which I only sorta have the Japanese names memorized. 

What I do, and what I'll do until the test when I'm not actually in class, is perform the movements without an uke -- air aikido. I visualize the attack, and practice the movements that I need to do. I also practice putting the names for the attacks and techniques to the movements.

We'll see how things go. ]]></body>
	<date>03-31-2003</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="70">
	<title><![CDATA[Drew the fanboy...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I didn't train last night...much. My wife, Robin, drove me down to the dojo and waited while I opened up for the open mat session.  I helped answer some questions on weapons work, empty hand technique, and ukemi. I have a lot to learn about teaching.

As soon as our sensei showed up, we talked for a few minutes, and then Robin and I went home. I had to chuckle a little bit; Robin said she doesn't like to watch me train too much because she's afriad I'll get hurt (which is a valid fear, I guess). The part that made me chuckle is that she said she had an urge to run out on the mat and tell people to be nice to me. :-D
The title of this journal entry is "Drew the fanboy", here's why. A few years back, I bought "Dueling with O'Sensei" by Ellis Amdur. At that point in my training, I found the book useful and interesting. Then, this past January, I attended a seminar of his. It was a great seminar and I learned a lot.

Ellis (as he prefers to be called) has a very intelligent and logical view on atemi that helps explain the quote that aikido is 99% (or whatever high percentage you want) atemi. His argument is perfectly explained in the book, but a lot of it didn't gel until after I had actually seen him explain it in person and worked on the exercises he gave us. I reread the book after the seminar and a whole bunch of things really fell into place.

Aside from that, there was another lesson I learned at the seminar. I'm a big guy, very stable and difficult to force into technique. At the same time, I've gotten good training in ukemi -- especially in providing a good, powerful, fluid, attack where I can be sensitive to nage's openings (and possible exploit them) and I can continue to press the attack until I'm thrown.

Some of the people at the seminar had no trouble throwing me, but others did. Especially on the second day, a lot of my partners were stopping Ellis as he walked by and asking questions on their technique. I told him after a while that I felt like the "uke who causes questions." His response to me, privately at first (after honestly underestimating my weight by about 80 lbs!), and then publicly toward the end of the day, is that size and strength can be one hell of an advantage.
This was a new idea for me. Up until then, I had thought of my size as a sever disadvantage. It never entered my mimd that it could be an advantage. While I am still working on losing weight, I have felt an incredible turn around in my attitude toward myself and my training since receiving so much encouragement from Ellis. So, yeah, I guess I'm a big fan of Ellis Amdur.

My instructor also attended the seminar, and we've talked a bit since then about my ukemi. I've come to realize that size, either big or small, presents different challenges to each of us. A small person will have different difficulties than I will, but we'll each have problems that we need to work through. But, and here's the important thing: the way we train does not automatically confer special advantages to one body type over another.

 ]]></body>
	<date>03-28-2003</date>
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<blogEntry id="69">
	<title><![CDATA[Tonsilitis....]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The journals seem like a neat idea, so I'll give one a try. 

We are gearing up for a test soon, maybe next month. I and another student will likely be tested for two kyu ranks: 5th to 3rd. Overall, I'm feeling pretty good about it, but I'm a little nervous.

Part of my nervousness is due to the fact that for a couple of months, I didn't train at all as I was recovering from an injury. Sometime in late January, I started training regularly again and things seem to be going well.

I won't, however, be training tonight. I've come down with a case of tonsilitis and I simply don't feel up to class. I have to go down to the dojo (a 40 minute drive) anyway because I told everyone I'd be there early to open up for an open mat session. I think I'll open up, get some of the beginners started on some exercises, wait for sensei to show up, and then head back home to bed. :-(

I'll miss Saturday's class too 'cause a friend is coming up from Florida to visit. Geez, I hope next week is better. ]]></body>
	<date>03-27-2003</date>
</blogEntry>


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