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<blogEntries>
<blogEntry id="4830">
	<title><![CDATA[Drops of Peace and Happiness]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I]If in our daily life we can smile,
if we can be peaceful and happy,
not only we, but everyone will profit from it.
This is the most basic kind of peace work.
- Thich Nhat Hanh
[/I]
On my way home after a delightful three and a half hours of training yesterday - the kind you float away from - I stopped by WalMart to pick up some cat food. One of the greeters (actually working the exit), a guy in about his 70s, who seems to always be there, called out to a woman leaving as I was walking in, “Are you happy?” “Do you know it?” “Well then, clap your hands!” So, great… Now I had that song stuck in my head. LOL But it was great to be able to answer for myself, “Yeah, I really am!” As I was shopping, I smiled at people, and they smiled, too. :-) I asked a taller clerk to get something down for me, and then later I helped a shorter woman who was struggling to reach cereal at the back of the highest shelf, and she went away smiling. Everyone seemed to be in a good mood. On a Monday. At 10 p.m. Shopping at WalMart. 

When I first started training I lamented that it would take generations, if it could ever happen at all, to get a large percentage of people participating in Aikido, or something like it - something that can change one’s experience of the world, and the world itself, for the better. Sensei told me something about it only taking a few people - not everyone… I don’t remember how he put it. But last night an image came to mind: mixing dye into a big container of water. It only takes a few drops to dramatically change the color of all the water. Go out and be those drops.]]></body>
	<date>04-23-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4809">
	<title><![CDATA[Seeing Through a Different Lens]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I]This is not specifically about Aikido, but I hope you'll enjoy it just the same.[/I]

We are fortunate to have the largest state park in California, Anza Borrego Desert State Park, right here in San Diego County. It's a great place to camp and hike, and an easy day trip by car. I spent many family vacations there, decades ago, scrambling up rocky trails in flip-flops, watching the wildlife, and playing card games. Kids at the campground would swim in the small hot spring-fed pool, where at dusk, bats would swoop down to drink, eliciting panicked shrieks from some of the children. The ranger at the campground check-in kiosk always had a tarantula on his sleeve. My sister and I would walk to the small campground store to get a soda or some chips. At night in the desert the sky is pitch black, sprinkled with a million brilliant stars. There is something special about the air — the wind howls, and gusts threaten to blow you over — even sound travels in a different way. There's a kind of stillness and quiet that's unique to the desert.

Every spring people visit the park's 600,000 acres to see the wildflowers. Depending on the rains, some years are better than others. Like with weather or surf, there are websites where you can check to see how the flowers are doing, and find the best places to view them. It's not something you can schedule by the calendar, because their blooming varies with the recent rainfall.

In a good year, if your timing is right, you might see a few hillsides dusted with purple, or quite a lot of amazing single plants here and there. If you are not so lucky, you might look across the dry landscape at the course brown and gray granite sand, with dull green plants scattered about, and mountains like enormous piles of rocks, and think there is nothing there, just inhospitable desolation.

This past Sunday Michael and I went to see the wildflowers and do some photography. There were a few patches of low-growing yellow flowers in the high desert areas, carpeting the areas between Manzanitas charred by a fire a few years ago. In the low desert the Ocotillos bloomed consistently everywhere, their tall graceful arms tipped by clusters of red honeysuckle-like flowers. But aside from those obvious sights, there wasn't much going on. Or at least that's what one might think at first glance.

To see wildflowers in the desert, you often have to look very carefully. You need to get out and walk. Stand still. Look down. Many plants are tiny, only inches high, with equally tiny flowers. Sometimes you will see hundreds of examples of one plant, and only one will be blooming. Perhaps you've missed the others, or maybe this one was in just the right place to get a little more water this year. Often the flowers are inconspicuous, hiding among the branches of an unassuming silver-green shrub.

[IMG]http://media.tumblr.com/6151d3b6ede46e854b455e96cf59390f/tumblr_inline_ml03hnqLH91qz4rgp.jpg[/IMG]

Cruising through the desert looking for photo opportunities can be a slow and tedious experience. Michael was driving, and cheerfully endured my dozens of requests to "pull over here." In addition to many quick roadside stops, we went for a few short hikes. In just this one afternoon we saw a lot of beautiful scenery, and many animals, including lizards, chipmunks, something that might have been a prairie dog, a coyote, several jackrabbits, and a Red Diamondback rattlesnake resting in the shade of a plant alongside a trail. Birds flitted here and there, particularly uncooperative photographic subjects, and sprinkled the soundscape with their high whistles and chirps. On the way back, winding south through the Cuyamaca Mountains, we also saw two large herds of mule deer grazing in the meadows after sunset.

But it wasn't until late that night, when I was going through the hundreds of photos I'd taken, trying to find the best few for an album, that it occurred to me that doing photography gives you a really different perspective on things. If we had just been driving through the desert, getting from point A to point B, it would have been easy to gaze out the car window at the dusty emptiness and think "This is boring. There's nothing here. What an awful place." But when your goal is to get stunning photographs, you look at things in a whole new way. You look for beauty. You look for tiny things. You look for the awesome. It might mean getting down on your hands and knees, moving to line things up at the right angle, or waiting for the sunlight to change just a little. It's there, but it's not obvious. You can see it if you're looking for it.

It struck me that a lot of life is like this. It's easy to stand around complaining and whining that things suck. But if our commitment is to seeing what's beautiful around us, our experience changes. As with the wildflowers in the desert, we might need to get down on our hands and knees, move to change our point of view, or wait a while for the light to change. But the beauty is there. We just need to be open to seeing it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Whether you are on Facebook or not, you should be able to view my album of photos from this trip: 
[URL="http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151550179386118.1073741826.562566117&type=1&l=00d06232e0"]http://www.facebook.com/media/set/?set=a.10151550179386118.1073741826.562566117&type=1&l=00d06232e0 [/URL]]]></body>
	<date>04-10-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4746">
	<title><![CDATA[Columns on AikiWeb]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[If you aren't already in the habit of reading the columns here on AikiWeb, be sure to head over there and check out my column about my experience of our recent open mat / exam prep sessions. I write as part of a group of women calling ourselves The Mirror. This month was my turn to write, and we all collaborate on editing and revisions. :-)

[B]"A Rising Tide"[/B]
[URL="http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/showthread.php?t=22433"]http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/showthread.php?t=22433[/URL]

And while you are there, read the other columns as well. There is some amazingly good writing and information there every month.]]></body>
	<date>03-12-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4743">
	<title><![CDATA[Happy New Year (kinda)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It’s been about a year - actually a year and two months, since my 2nd kyu exam. My 1st kyu exam will be this morning. I think of each exam like New Year’s Day - a time to look back, and to look ahead.

This year has been one of transitions. Bringing things into alignment. Getting behind center. Grounding. Being clear.

I changed the way I work. With my employer’s and husband’s support, I cut back on my hours, and now work exclusively from home. This has meant a huge reduction in stress and a better physical workspace for me. It allows more time and flexibility for my Aikido training, and lets me focus on writing as my primary activity.

Over the past few months I have upgraded my office, with a new computer and printer, and all new software tools for writing and design work. There have been a few steep learning curves, but now I’m off and running.

I established my own publishing company, Shugyo Press. I wrote and published my first book, “A Bowl of Love - How to Make a Big Green Dojo Potluck Salad.” On Monday morning I will be moving directly into my next two books, one of which is to be my “Black Belt Project,” something we each take on at our dojo, before our shodan exam. (The other is a secret, for now.)

There have been a lot of little things, too. A long-delayed household improvement is finally on track. My blog on AikiWeb just went over 200,000 views. I turned 50.

I’ve happily spent over 250 training days on the mat. I have helped out in the kids’ classes, and even taught a few. There were seminars and road trips, projects and parties. It’s been a full 14 months!

Starting last October (2012) I seemed to have a never-ending string of health problems: I injured my shoulder taking a roll in an awkward way. A bad cold turned into weeks of bronchitis, followed by gout in my right foot. At some point during all of this my neck and upper back muscles seized up and caused trouble for the radial nerve to my left arm.I was finally able to train fully just in time to get busy preparing for my exam.

While I have enjoyed training, it’s also been a painful year. Ukemi, the aspect of Aikido I am most dedicated to, the part of the practice where I find the most value, and where I need most to improve, was also the most difficult for me to access. I watched a lot of my friends grow and progress throughout the year, and felt left behind. I recently had a good conversation with Sensei about this, and am looking forward with renewed enthusiasm to focusing more on improving my ukemi.

It’s been a time of changes and new opportunities. Even the time will be changing tonight. Longer days and warmer weather are coming. Everything is looking brighter. I can’t wait for Monday night’s classes!]]></body>
	<date>03-09-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4742">
	<title><![CDATA[Pre-Exam To-Do List]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My to-do list for the day before my 1st kyu exam. :eek:  I am also publishing my first book today: "A Bowl of Love — How to Make a Big Green Dojo Potluck Salad". I'd better get busy checking these things off!

I can't seem to embed the photo, but you can see it here: 
[URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/44869240810/my-to-do-list-for-the-day-before-my-1st-kyu-exam"]http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/44869240810/my-to-do-list-for-the-day-before-my-1st-kyu-exam[/URL]]]></body>
	<date>03-08-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4741">
	<title><![CDATA[That Still Counts!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yesterday I completed one entire month on the mat. I'm preparing for my first kyu exam, which will be this Saturday, so I've been training even more than usual. I did it just because I could, and because it seemed to help me keep up the proper momentum, and stay loose physically. The nerve problem I was having with my neck and arm has been improving with constant activity, and I'm generally feeling very good. So why stop?

I trained every day, even Sundays. Every class, even the kids classes, and every open mat session. :D  

When I shared that milestone with my friends, one suggested that I must be experiencing an "awesome growth spurt." 

Actually, no. Although I have been enjoying training and having a lot of  fun preparing for exams with my dojo mates, I've actually been fairly perturbed by my lack of progress. Sometimes it's felt like I'm going backward. It's been discouraging. :mad:  For for each new "aha" moment there are three more things I see I seriously need to work on.

Here's what I said to him:

[I]"Not really feeling like it... Well actually, yeah... But the kind of growth where you become more acutely aware of where the holes are, and what needs work. Humbling - in the classic sense of the word."[/I]

In writing that answer I saw the situation in a new light, and suddenly felt a lot better about things. :p  I really [I]was [/I]making progress, it just didn't look the way I had been thinking it should. So I guess that does still count as an "awesome growth spurt."

[LIST]
[*]Opening my eyes to a thousand details and endless room for refinement still counts as opening my eyes.
[*]Discovering how I process and remember information (or fail to) still counts as discovery.
[*]Becoming more aware of the holes in my technique still counts as becoming more aware.
[*]Starting to see some of the bigger picture  — the patterns and relationships in techniques — still counts as starting to see.
[*]Learning where my blind spots are still counts as learning.
[*]Knowing what I need to work on still counts as knowing.
[/LIST]

I will do my best on Saturday, and I'm sure I won't be satisfied with that. But I will be moving into the next phase of my training better equipped to learn and develop further, with a broadened perspective on the art, and deeper appreciation for what's available through training in it. And that still counts as progress.]]></body>
	<date>03-07-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4734">
	<title><![CDATA[Presence, Inclusiveness, and Gender]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[IMG]http://25.media.tumblr.com/tumblr_l7uv2miuzp1qa5ysdo1_500.jpg[/IMG]

[I][I wrote this post almost three years ago, but tucked it away with a hundred or so others in my Drafts folder, because it felt a little too raw. A conversation with a friend recently reminded me about it. Now, with another free intro class coming up at our dojo, it seems like a good time to hit the Publish button. Here it is, unedited.][/I]

There is nothing that touches us quite like being “gotten” - known for who we really are. Being recognized. And there are few things so exasperating as being seen as someone who you are not. 

The photo on the left is me, on my 2nd birthday, on what I’m guessing was a birthday present. A Wonder Horse. Like a rocking horse, but on springs. I think they make bull-riding practice rigs like this. I probably played on it until I outgrew it or wore it out. I'm sure I fell asleep on the damned thing. If they had these for grownups, there wouldn’t be a weight problem in our country. It was only a plastic horse, but it offered movement and energy and adventure and freedom from gravity. I loved that thing. 

The photo on the right is me, dressed and posed as someone I never was. I remember that day very clearly. They moved the round walnut coffee table over to where the photographer’s background was, for me to sit on. I was told to smile like that, and the photographer positioned my hand, with my finger against my cheek, and turned my head just so. I protested, but the photographer (who was a professional after all, and who knew best) insisted. I’m sure it was supposed to look sweet and cute. But it didn't look like me. I was as furious as a little child can be. It still pisses me off to think about it. My mom recently gave me that red checkered dress from the photo, to do with as I like. I think I’ll burn it.

When I was a kid I rode my bike or skateboarded everywhere (or cartwheeled, or pogo-sticked). I had pet snakes and a paper route. I hiked all over the local hills and canyons with the local gas station dog. I played street hockey and body surfed. I never had a Barbie. I hated dressing up. I liked bugs. My sister and I had to plead our case very persistently, but we did manage to get a slot car set ("but those are for boys") for Christmas one year. 

All my life (thankfully not as much after 40) people have been trying to tell me I should be more girly. As a little kid I was told that of course I like pink. "All girls like pink." (Blue was my favorite color.) I was supposed to love babies. (I've never had any rapport with babies, I've never wanted babies, and no, I don't want to hold your baby.) I was supposed to adore wearing dresses.

In 3rd grade the girls at my school were allowed to wear pants on Fridays. Only.

In the summer of 3rd grade somehow I'd heard about a judo class at the YMCA, and insisted on joining it. I remember the room, and I remember endlessly slapping the mat and learning to fall (a skill that may have saved my life later on). The class was mostly boys. I don't remember this, but my mom tells me they wouldn't train with the girls, and that my feelings were terribly hurt by that. Being an outsider is painful.

Later I worked on cars and built stuff with my dad. I got my ham license at 12 so I could join the Humane Society’s Animal Rescue Reserve (rescuing livestock in disaster situations). I fought my way into wood shop (where the teacher said he didn't give girls As) and metal shop. Home Ec was still required, of course. Just for girls. A friend and I were the first two girls ever in our school to take Football in P.E., and we had to fight for that, too. But they drew the line at auto shop. No girls. No way.

In 12th grade I trained in Tang Soo Do for independent study P.E. credit. It was mostly guys... I don't recall any other girls in the beginning class with me, but one of the black belts was a beautiful young mother named Cristi, and she was clearly capable and respected. I never felt like "one of the gang," but Master Kenyon never treated me differently than any other student. No less was expected of me. I loved training there, but had to stop when I moved to go to college.

Girls are supposed to crave shoes, jewelry, makeup, perfume, shopping, cute clothes, and wearing frilly things. Naturally we must love chick-flick movies, spa days, and girls' nights out. Whatever those are.

Those assumptions and expectations alone are annoying enough, but there are more insidious aspects. I wasn't supposed to be smart. I wasn't supposed to be interested in greasy mechanical things, or computers. I wasn't supposed to be good at sports. Possibly worse than obvious active discouragement - you can fight back against that - are the subtle low expectations and social exclusion. Simply not being invited to participate in things... "We didn't think you'd be interested." Not feeling welcome. How do you fight that? 

Girls aren't even supposed to be strong. Seriously, I was often told as a young woman to avoid doing things that might make my arms or legs big - like swimming, martial arts, or windsurfing. "If you get muscles you won't ever be able to wear cute clothes." Fortunately I somehow didn't give a damn what people thought, but a lot of girls buy into this, and forgo healthy, fun, empowering physical activity in favor of being acceptable to others.

Dar Williams' song "When I Was a Boy" perfectly reflects my experience. Click here to open a video of her performing it (opens in a new window): http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6zIB3piK0wE

"And now I'm in this clothing store, and the signs say less is more. More that's tight means more to see. More for them, not more for me. That can't help me climb a tree in 10 seconds flat. - When I was a boy - see that picture? That was me. Grass-stained shirt and dusty knees. And I know things have gotta change. They've got pills to sell. They've got implants to put in, they've got implants to remove. But I am not forgetting that I was a boy too."

No one at the dojo has ever been even subtly discouraging to anyone on the basis of gender. Expectations are appropriate to the students' experience, physical ability, and skill. But somehow in the context of Aikido recently, the issue of gender has been coming up. Someone mentioned the male:female ratio at the dojo a few weeks ago (about 3:1, I think). In a few small classes recently I’ve been the only woman. I don't think I would've noticed except that I was the only one in the women's dressing room. It doesn’t bother me in the least to train with just guys, but I do think it’s a shame that more women aren’t finding their way into martial arts.

The reasons why are many, and have been discussed ad nauseum with no agreed-upon answer. For many I'm guessing it's a lifetime of assertions about who we are ("Oh, you wouldn't like that, it looks pretty rough."), concerns over becoming physically unacceptable to others (having bruises, or keeping nails cut short, for instance), the discouragement of subtle low expectations (whether about ability or commitment), and maybe just plain never having been invited, or made to feel welcome once they join. Not welcome like an outsider who's being treated with kindness, but one of us.

A friend of a student was visiting the dojo one day months ago, watching a class. Trying to strike up a conversation I asked her if she'd ever done any martial arts. She visibly responded as though I'd asked her if she ate kittens for breakfast, and said something to the effect of "Oh heavens, no!" I was so taken aback by her repulsed reaction that I couldn't find a tactful way to ask what in the heck she meant by that. If I see her again maybe I'll follow up.

We may never have a solution, but meanwhile, invite someone, include everyone, and let people feel like they belong.]]></body>
	<date>02-25-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4732">
	<title><![CDATA[Uke/Nage - Horse/Rider]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[In Aikido, we train to be both nage (like the rider - connected, clearly directing the horse in a way that doesn't elicit confusion or a fight) and uke (like the horse - light, responsive, moving, centered, with no resistance to the rider's direction). This classic video of Stacy Westfall's nearly legendary ride demonstrates both beautifully. And it's a beautiful song, too. To the unitiated, it looks like she's "just sitting there," but she's controlling every movement - it's just really subtle.

Click here to watch on YouTube: [URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qIvYRZkklT0"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qIvYRZkklT0[/URL]]]></body>
	<date>02-23-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4731">
	<title><![CDATA[13 Days and Counting]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I have 13 training days left before my 1st kyu exam on March 9th.

It’s been a very difficult week for me, personally, quite outside of my comfort zone. But I’ve been learning to deal with conflict in a way that benefits everyone. And isn’t that the whole point after all?

I’ve been training really hard, with a lot of focus, and things are starting to come together. I’m seeing more patterns, groupings, and relationships, rather than dozens of separate techniques. And I’m starting to find some new subtleties and details. It still seems like there’s a long way to go, but I’m basically feeling on track.

There’s quite a large group of us all training for exams on the same day - from 1st to 6th kyu. We’ve all been supporting each other and training together, which has been a fantastic experience. We’ve also had a great deal of help from our very generous yudansha, who have spent hours with us refining techniques, clearing up confusion, and polishing the rough spots. I’m feeling very fortunate indeed to have them!

Tomorrow, Sunday, we have another three-hour open-mat session in the afternoon. I want to focus on smoothing out some techniques that I basically understand, but haven’t gotten into muscle memory very well yet. Slow, smooth, relaxed, repetition. Breathing is important, I hear, too. 

Right now, though, I’m really tired, and looking forward to a hot bath and a good night’s rest.]]></body>
	<date>02-23-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4724">
	<title><![CDATA[Threshold Spirits]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Big ideas seem to come together for me in the morning, perhaps before the rational, detail-oriented part of my brain comes online and takes charge. Earlier this week, when I was uncharacteristically up before sunrise, a larger theme came to me that will help tie my book together. And now this morning, blundering around the kitchen getting my coffee, I realized that two things I've been struggling with are really the same. I am on the verge of publishing my first book, and in a few weeks I have my first kyu exam. In both cases, I've alternately been unconcerned, and a little panicky. 

One day soon I will hit the Publish button, and my first book will go live on the Amazon store. And on March 9th, Sensei will call me up in front of the class, and for about 45 minutes I will bring forth everything I've got. No do overs. No excuses. I will wish I might have had more time for editing and rewriting. I will wish I had trained harder, spend more time, focused more clearly… But it will be what it is, and I will have to leave it at that and move on. 

I know I still have some time. Feeling rushed and stressed out will not help me. These are just stepping stones on much longer paths — there will be more books, and more exams in the future. No lives are on the line. In the greater scheme of what's important in the world, these are No Big Deal. In one sense this is a sane, adaptive way of looking at things. But I recognize it as a defensive strategy: "It's not [I]that [/I]important… I wasn't [I]really [/I]trying…" Minimizing the importance of something is a great way to protect against the sting of failure.

On the other hand, I don't take these things lightly at all. In each case I will be presenting to the world the work that represents me. "Here it is, the best I can do." For someone committed to, or perhaps attached to, doing everything as well as I possibly can, that's a frightening prospect.

My sempai, mentor, and friend, Karen, who is as smart, kind, and wise as they come, commented a few days ago when I was feeling rushed at only having four weeks left before my test: 

[I][B]"The anxiety is threshold spirits trying to carry you to the finish line. Remember that when they are shoving you. :-) "[/B][/I]

I will try to remember that, and embrace my threshold spirits, welcoming their shoving, and I will do the very best I can as I approach my two finish lines.]]></body>
	<date>02-15-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4723">
	<title><![CDATA[The Week of Valentine's Day]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It's been a bit of a disjointed week… since my post about Monday, I've helped in the little kids class on Tuesday, and participated in two classes Tuesday evening. In the second class on Tuesday, I got to make a request, so I requested that we work on timing and entries, from munetsuki and shomen-uchi. We worked on kokyu-ho, kokyu nage, and kote-gaeshi. That was really useful, and I feel a lot more comfortable with those, although I still feel like I'm only doing them in slow motion. I'd love to be able to spend some time really drilling on these techniques. I feel like a few hundred repetitions would be a good start.

Wednesday was a relatively pleasant but unproductive day. I woke up late, making up for a few nights of sleep deprivation, and then had a massage, took a hot bath, and saw the chiropractor, all in hopes of continuing the improvement in the nerve in my neck and arm. It's been doing a tiny bit better each day for a few weeks now. That sounds like a lovely, relaxed day, but I had things I needed to get done, and didn't make any progress on them at all. So in spite of appearances it was actually pretty frustrating and stressful. I helped in the older kids class, but skipped the evening training on Wednesday to go out for early Valentine's Day dinner with my husband, Michael. Wednesdays are test prep nights, and people stay late to train together, so I hated to miss it this close to an exam. But the alternative would have been to miss the weapons class and the advanced class on Thursday, not to mention going out on Valentine's Day, which is bound to be a busy time at restaurants. So we went out, and had a nice time together, with no crowds.

Thursday was back to business, writing all day, and taking care of a few chores before heading to the dojo. I sat for meditation and for the first time in months I was able to do so without my shoulder and arm hurting, and having to constantly reposition my neck and arms to keep my hand from going numb. Definitely heading in the right direction, thank goodness. In the first class we did some techniques, including katate-dori nikkyo, and a gyakute-dori irimi nage, with tanto in hand, using it to study alignment and the direction of energy. In the second class we did some slow jiyuwaza exercises, which were great for bringing a relaxed soft energy to the practice.

Friday morning and afternoon will include as much writing as I can cram in. On Friday evening, Sensei will be teaching a class in Tijuana. A friend and I will be meeting him at the border and participating in the class, which should be great fun. We know most of the students at that dojo from having trained with them before, both at their dojo, and when they've visited ours. It will probably be a late evening out, and we have classes on Saturday morning, with some exam prep to follow. There's another open mat session on Sunday as well. So lots of good stuff coming up.]]></body>
	<date>02-15-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4720">
	<title><![CDATA[Aggression and Compassion]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Last night's classes were all great fun, and the last one was a bit different.

First, in the kids class, we reviewed a very direct kind of kokyu-ho from gyakute-dori, focusing on extending energy out beyond Uke. It's interesting to watch the kids working on that. At first Sensei had them work by themselves, just standing in hanmi and extending energy through their outstretched, relaxed arms and fingers While they seem to get that idea of extension, when they went to working in pairs they seemed unable to trust that it alone was sufficient. Instead of simply extending their arm out past uke's center, most of them resorted almost immediately to trying to push Uke over by shoving into Uke's neck or face with their upper arm, and rotating across Uke's center, clotheslining them. We probably all do this, especially as beginners in this particular technique, but in everything really. It's hard to trust the correct energy and form will ultimately produce the best outcome, so we fall back on trying to force things to happen the way we think they should.

Next, in the all levels adult class, weworked on a few techniques from ryote-dori (grabbing both wrists from the front), including tenshi-nage, kokyu-ho, and an interesting combination of the two, where the near hand does kokyu-ho while the far hand essentially executes the top half of tenshi-nage. The class was very technical, in a kind of centering and meditative way, really focusing on the minutia of our movements. A few good "aha" moments there, and I got some very helpful feedback from a couple of my ukes.

As I'm training with my upcoming first kyu exam in mind, I'm noticing the sense of completing a 5,000-piece jigsaw puzzle. I have three of the corner pieces, most of the sides, and I can tell what most of the picture is going to be. Maybe I can see the whole barn, but a few key pieces are still out of place. And there are whole sections where I can't tell how it's going to turn out yet. In class it's like I find pieces here and there. Sometimes I know just where they should fit, and other times I'm not sure, and just take note of them. In a lot of cases I can tell where pieces are missing, and I remember that I saw them, somewhere, a while ago… But now I have to go back and find them. It's starting to come together, and I'm enjoying the process.

Then there was the fourth-kyu-and-up class… It was different from any other class I've participated in. Usually, of course, Uke's job is to provide a committed, clean, organized attack, appropriate to the technique being practiced. But this time, Uke was to be difficult, fighty, and explosive, complete with shouting, shoving, and hitting. Nage's practice was to be compassionate and soft, calming the situation.

It was really interesting seeing what each of us found easy and natural, and what made us feel awkward and uncomfortable. Some found that having compassion directed toward them felt intrusive, a violation of their boundaries. Others found it difficult to call forth compassion-for-no-reason, without the background of a situation that demanded it. I found it was challenging to continue exuding compassion in the first part of the exercise, when Uke was being bratty and dismissive ("Go away! Leave me alone!"). My natural inclination in that situation is to give up on them quickly ("Fine, whatever. Go be by yourself.") But strangely it was less difficult later, when they were being aggressive and combative — that was easy to deal with.

When it came to being Uke, being difficult, and explosively and continuously attacking Nage, everyone was able to access it, with varying degrees of sincerity and intensity. It's hard to be either explosive or compassionate with no content to it, so some impromptu role-playing came up as a natural part of the exercise. Some pairs fell into the roles of friends, one trying to help the other. Others found that the roles of parent and child worked well. Imagine the kind of energy behind "I understand you don't want to go to school, but you have to go," and "I'm not going, and you can't make me, and I hate you!!!" and you'll have a good idea of the kind of energies we were playing with.

The point of the exercise was to learn how to bring calm compassion to the situation, to quench Uke's rage, and resolve things with no one getting hurt. And also to feel the effect of that kind of energy when it's directed toward you. It was a very effective laboratory for seeing what works and what doesn't. As Uke, the explosive, fighty one, when Nage was soft and accepting, absorbing the energy and slowing things down rather than being defensive and fighting back, the effect was to take all the hostility out of the attack. Sensei said we could be like 500 pounds of feathers, or 500 pounds of bricks. Either way, it's still 500 pounds, still effective, but the feeling is very different. I noticed even when I had openings, I didn't really feel like taking advantage of them. It felt like punching a pillow — nothing there to fight with — and I just ran out of intention. But if Nage felt sharp, quick, and reactive, it was easy to keep coming in, looking for any opportunity to get the better of them and continue the attack.

I think in any situation where we are in that frame of mind, upset and aggressive, we really want to find a quieter place. We don't want to fight. If Nage can help us find that quieter place, we will willingly go there with them.

All in all, a great, balanced day of training. Some good focus on technical precision, and a wider look at the big picture, a reminder of what Aikido is all about.]]></body>
	<date>02-12-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4719">
	<title><![CDATA[Count Out Loud to 31 in Japanese]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[When I tested for 2nd kyu, almost a year ago now I was required to demonstrate the 31 jo kata. The 31 jo kata is a flowing series of 31 techniques with the jo, a wooden weapon that looks essentially like a rake handle. There are strikes, thrusts, blocks, and parries. The kata is sort of a pantomime of one side of a hypothetical fight against someone else similarly equipped with a jo. It's a fairly long and complex weapons exercise. The idea of the exercise, which was created by Morihiro Saito Sensei, is to demonstrate proper form and energy throughout (that is, crisp technique, good posture, and relaxed-but-focused movement and breathing). To be successful we have to understand how to do each movement well, and also memorize the order of the whole thing.

As part of training for that I had to learn to count to 31 in Japanese. We count the numbers of the techniques out loud, in front of everyone, as we do each movement of the kata. For others who will be testing for 2nd kyu, I will share here how I learned to do the counting.

It's easy to find information on numbers in Japanese. The sounds of the words are easy to make, and the rules for combining the numbers above 10 are very straightforward. It's not even a little bit confusing to understand it. Anyone can look up "how to count in Japanese," and have that information in seconds.

But you may have noticed that I didn't call this "How to Count to 31 in Japanese." Instead, I called it "How to Learn to Count Out Loud to 31 in Japanese, Under Pressure, and with Distractions." There's a bit of a leap between "OK, I looked it up, and I understand how this counting thing works," and actually being able to do the counting, out loud, in front of people, while performing the 31 jo kata. It's a different thing altogether. There's a rhythm to the techniques, and you have to say the words on time. Everyone is watching. Pressure? Distraction? Heck yeah! In the spirit of "train like you fight, and fight like you train," I came up with a way to learn to do the counting that simulated that pressure, in a distracting environment.

Before we can do that real-life counting practice, though, we still need the basic info - the "How to Count" part. So let's start there. If you are already confident that you know how to count, you just don't feel comfortable doing it out loud under pressure, jumped down to the next section, "Now, Out Loud, Under Pressure, with Distractions."

[B]Begin with Counting to 10[/B]

In Japanese, just like English, there are words for the numbers one through ten. To get through the teens, twenties, and thirties, we add a prefix of sorts. So it's very similar to saying "twenty-three, twenty-four, twenty-five" in English, but even easier because there are no weird exceptions, like "eleven, twelve, thirteen."

Here are the counting words for one through ten (spelling varies, and you can ask your dojo mates to help you with pronunciation):

1 — ichi — [ee-chee]

2 — ni — [nee]

3 — san — [sahn]

4 — shi — [shee] (note that yon is not used for counting)

5 — go — [goh]

6 — roku — [roh-koo]

7 — shichi — [shee-chee]

8 —  hachi — [hah-chee]

9 — kyu — [kyoo]

10 — ju — [joo]

Since we will use these words for the first ten numbers over and over,, they are the ones we really need to have down cold. Memorizing them is the first step.

Begin by reading them out loud several times, in order, to get familiar with the sound of them:

Ichi, ni, san, chi, go, roku, shichi, hachi, kyu, ju. Again…

Next, try to do a couple at a time from memory. So, look at a pair first, and then look away and say them both:

Ichi, ni.
San, chi. 
Go, roku.
Shichi, hachi.
Kyu, ju.

Now try bigger chunks:

Ichi, ni, san, chi.
Go, roku, shichi, hachi.
Kyu ju.

The sounds should start to feel familiar, like hearing a familiar song in another language, even if you don't understand all the words.

See if you can do all ten from memory. If you can't yet, that's OK, just back off and do smaller chunks again.

Ichi, ni, san, chi, go, roku, shichi, hachi, kyu, ju.

Keep working on that until you can say all ten. Take your time. Keep practicing until you can reliably count to ten from memory. We'll wait here.

Got it? Great!

[B]Counting Through the Teens and 20s[/B]

So far, so good. What you are probably experiencing now is that you can say all ten words, in order, but maybe you have some pauses where you have to stop and think about what's next, or if you get distracted you might get lost and have to start over. That's OK for now. You are in the right place to begin working on counting out loud, smoothly, under pressure, with distractions.

If you don't really have the first ten numbers down yet, go back and work on that a little more. You will use the same 10 numbers three times through, the first time, counting to 10, then through the teens, and again through the 20s. So you want to have them clearly in your mind. Don't worry about being fast or fluid yet.

We will be going out for a walk, with no notes, so you have to have this in your head first. (Well, you could take along a cheat sheet, but the idea is to be doing it without looking, as quickly as possible.)

Lucky for us, counting in Japanese is really simple and repetitive. To get the words for eleven through nineteen, we start with "ju" (ten), and add the same numbers above, like this:

11 — ju-ichi — [joo-eech] — ten-one

12 — ju-ni — [joo-nee] — ten-two

13 — ju-san — [joo-sahn] — ten-three

14 — ju-shi — [joo-shee] — ten-four

15 — ju-go — [joo-goh] — ten-five

16 — ju-roku — [joo-roh-koo] — ten-six

17 — ju-shichi — [joo-shee-chee] — ten-seven

18 — ju-hachi — [joo-hah-chee] — ten-eight

19 — ju-kyu — [joo-kyoo] — ten-nine

Twenty through 29 follows the same pattern. For twenty we start with "ni-ju" (two-ten), like this:

20 — ni-ju — [nee-joo] — two-ten

21 — ni-ju-ichi — [nee-joo-eech] — two-ten-one

22 — ni-ju-ni — [nee-joo-nee] — two-ten-two

23 — ni-ju-san — [nee-joo-sahn] — two-ten-three

24 — ni-ju-shi — [nee-joo-shee] — two-ten-four 

25 — ni-ju-go — [nee-joo-goh] — two-ten-five

26 — ni-ju-roku — [nee-joo-roh-koo] — two-ten-six

27 — ni-ju-shichi — [nee-joo-shee-chee] — two-ten-seven

28 — ni-ju-hachi — [nee-joo-hah-chee] — two-ten-eight

29 — ni-ju-kyu — [nee-joo-kyoo] — two-ten-nine

And finally, we need to get to 31 (you're on your own if you want to continue after that):

30 — san-ju — [sahn-joo] — three-ten

31 — san-ju-ichi — [sahn-joo-eech] — three-ten-one

So, now you have the words. Ready? Go! Oh wait, now we have to do the whole "learning how to count out loud, under pressure, with distractions" thing.

[B]Now, Out Loud, Under Pressure, with Distractions[/B]

If we practice counting at a relaxed, random pace, in the comfort of our own homes, we might be unpleasantly surprised when our accounting skills fall apart on our exam. With this exercise we will simulate the real-life atmosphere of an exam situation, but starting in a very slow and easy way. Just like learning to play a musical instrument, we need to start with a rhythm slow enough that we can be successful. As we become more skillful, we can increase the rhythm a little at a time. We could use a metronome, like musicians do, but I have found it easier, more fun, and more relevant to the testing situation to use the body as a metronome. And how will we do that?

Let's go for a walk.

If you have a place already that you are comfortable walking, great. If it someplace you walk regularly every day, like walking to and from the bus, even better. Distractions are a good thing — we don't want this to be too easy — but don't let your practice distract you from being safe. Remember to keep an eye on your surroundings, look out for traffic, and so on.

Set out at a comfortable and steady pace. Notice the rhythm of your walk — step, step, step, step — right, left, right, left — one, two, three, four. That's a good four beat rhythm for us to start with. Began counting, saying each number on the first of the four beats: "Ichi (step, step, step). Ni (step, step, step). San (step, step, step)…" if you are musically inclined, you can think of this as "Ichi-2-3-4, Ni-2-3-4, San-2-3-4…"

Try counting to 10 at that pace several times. Once you are comfortable doing that, try continuing through the teens and 20s, and on to 31. You are bound to get stuck here and there, or find that there are a few places that are problems for you. If you find you are running into trouble in the same place over and over, start from two or three numbers before that, and just practice those few numbers until you feel more comfortable. Then go back and see if you can do all 31, keeping with the same slow pace, every fourth footstep.

Without tripping or running into mailboxes or other people, try to continue your counting even when there are distractions. There will surely be distractions during your exam, so you want to get comfortable dealing with them now.

Once you are able to count fairly reliably at that pace, without rushing, or making too many mistakes, try counting every three footsteps: "Ichi (step, step). Ni (step, step). San (step, step)…" If this is too difficult to do smoothly, go back to every four footsteps for a while. As with our Aikido techniques, we don't want to rush. If we practice being hurried and sloppy, we will get good at being hurried and sloppy. Instead, we'd like to be good at being relaxed and smooth, so that's what we need to practice.

Don't increase the pace too quickly. This took me many days of walking during my lunch hours. Only go faster in your feeling very confident, even a little bored, at the slower pace.

If you are doing well counting in threes now, you can try twos — saying the number on every other stepI — either every right foot, or every left foot. That's getting pretty quick now. You can begin to imagine how you would count like this as you are doing the 31 jo kata.

When you are ready, try counting on every footstep. Realize that this is twice as fast as the previous step, so it's quite a leap. You can always go back to every other step if this is too quick for you at this point.

When you can count to 31 reliably, on the beat, with every footstep, walking around outdoors in a distracting environment, you will probably find it easy to count as you do the 31-count exercise you have been practicing. Congratulations, and I hope you do great on your exam!

[B]More Counting Exercises[/B]

Here are a couple of other things you can try, which can make it easier to remember the Japanese numbers:

[LIST]
[*]It can be easy to get in a rut of counting, almost as if the counting words were lyrics to a song in another language. We can recite them based on their sounds, but don't really have a clear understanding of what they mean. To get more familiar with the Japanese numbers, try the same exercise as above, but count only by the even numbers. And then try accounting by the odd numbers. If you're feeling really brave, try counting backward.

[*]When you are learning the numbers 1 through 10, get in the habit of identifying any single digit you see by saying the number in Japanese. At the beginning, don't worry about saying the actual value, just recite each of the digits. For instance, if you see the number 739, you could say "seven three nine" in Japanese: "shichi san kyu." Realize, of course, that this is not the same as saying "seven-hundred-thirty-nine." You are just identifying each digit. This exercise turns ATM receipts, grocery store shelves, and road signs into flashcards, so you can practice everywhere you go.
[/LIST]]]></body>
	<date>02-11-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4717">
	<title><![CDATA[Four Weeks to First Kyu]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Today marks the beginning of the four-week countdown to my first kyu exam on March 9. I spent the afternoon training with friends :D , and the evening discussing training strategies, among other things, over dinner.

I’ve been training with my exam in mind for a good while, but the date has seemed safely distant, off in the future sometime. I haven’t been too concerned with things that aren’t smooth, or for that matter that I hardly know it all, because it felt like there was a lot of time left. No worries. I’ve been dealing with a funky nerve in my neck and arm, fighting various colds  and coughs, :yuck:  and trying to get my first book finished and published. Just show up and train, there’s no rush… But now suddenly it doesn’t feel like I have much time at all! :crazy:  This is the time to snap out of that “whenever” thinking, and instead begin to bring a good bit more attention, precision, and fullness to everything. Now. 

I have technique notes written down here and there, and a few scribbles about things I need to work on. :confused:  I will feel more secure once I have them in one place, with a clear list of the things I really need help with. 

But first, I promised I would finish another blog post, about counting to 31 in Japanese. So that’s next, and then getting all my notes together in one place. Ready? Acck! Go!]]></body>
	<date>02-11-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4716">
	<title><![CDATA[A New Way of Writing]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Originally posted January 22nd, 2013 - Catching up on a couple of missed posts here.]

Well, I’ve run into an interesting complication with writing. I’ve managed to screw up the radial nerve in my left arm. My thumb and forefingers tingle and go numb when I use my right arm for things like the trackball or the keyboard. So, I’m trying an experiment. I am using the voice to text feature on my iPhone to dictate blog posts And other writing.

The good news is that Aikido seems to loosen things up. I trained for 12 days straight at the beginning of the year, and improved continuously. My physical therapist was very impressed. Then for one day on a Sunday, I didn’t train, and instead worked at the computer off and on. That about did me in! Even with frequent stops for stretching, PT exercises, and other movement, my neck and shoulders got really tight and painful.

I got back to training, slowly, with a few false starts, and yesterday managed over six hours on the mat. I’m no worse for the wear. If anything everything is a little looser. Today I have a class in the morning, and then another appointment with my orthopedic doctor. We’ll see what we can figure out.

Meanwhile, I had a great time over the weekend at the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, and at a seminar with Dave Goldberg sensei at Aikido Tijuana. I was very disappointed to not be able to take ukemi for some shodan exams there, on Sunday. Alas… I hope next time I will be able to. I am grateful that this injury at least is not keeping me off the mat, for the most part. I just need to learn how to write by speaking. It’s an interesting challenge!]]></body>
	<date>02-11-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4697">
	<title><![CDATA[Late at Night]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I hope my neighbors are in their beds, dreaming their dreams, late at night.
I hope they are sound sleepers, sawing logs, not bothered by much.
I hope they are not nosy; not peering from their windows with the lights out.

It's bad enough I feed the donkeys after class, and sometimes after dinner.
The braying at 10:30 could be trying if my neighbors were awake.
The clatter of cat food into dishes, and splashing of water into large bowls,
Might not be too bad. At least the kitties are well enough behaved.

I hope my neighbors are not fearful.

They would surely wonder what that crazy Eskin lady is doing now, 
out there in the dark, swinging and swirling a rake handle overhead
while the donkeys munch their hay.

"Has she at last gone completely mad?"

How could they know that practicing the 20 jo suburi in the stillness
is the perfect way to settle down before settling into bed?

If they do see, I hope my neighbors don't worry.

"Why on earth is she lying on the driveway, on her back, at 2 a.m.?"
Maybe they haven't seen the observatory in the yard.
Maybe they didn't read the news about the meteor shower.

"And why is that rake handle lying across across her chest?"
Perhaps they haven't noticed the raccoons,
Who've come to eat the cat food.]]></body>
	<date>01-09-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4691">
	<title><![CDATA[Intention and Attention]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Earlier this week as I was doing a few hours of mundane chores - tasks that required no mental effort - I noticed that my mind was dwelling on random things. I wondered about the kind of person who would leave a Mercedes SUV idling for 30 minutes near the open door of the dojo, while they waited for someone shopping next door. I admired the craftsmanship in a piece of artwork as I dusted it, and thought how we can be known by the quality of our work long after we are gone. I reminded myself, again, that I really ought to clean out my car. I thought about community, and how everyone contributes in their own way. I considered patching a few little nicks in some drywall, and wondered what a stray half-inch sheet metal screw might have fallen off of.

I noticed the amount of energy and creativity that was necessary to think these pointless, and sometimes negative thoughts, and decided it would be better spent planning the kids’ class I was going to be teaching later that day, or generating ideas for future writing projects.  If I was going to put so much effort into thinking about something, it might as well be positive and useful, right?

So, I tried that, and within moments was off thinking about something else - maybe the design of the stepladder, or how it is that some people can’t figure out which way to drive through our parking lot. I didn’t even realize my mind had wandered off, of course, until later. “Hey, wait a minute… Wasn’t I supposed to be outlining chapters in my head?” I tried again, and again, with very little success. I was reminded of Wendy Palmer Sensei’s idea of the mind being like a puppy. It runs off, bounding after this or that, and we need to call it back, over and over, until eventually it learns to stay with us for longer periods of time. My puppy mind wasn’t having any of it. Off in the next county, like a Bloodhound following a fresh scent trail. Alas.

That evening’s class was co-taught by our teacher, Dave Goldberg Sensei, and Miles Kessler Sensei from Tel Aviv, Israel. The two of of them would be leading the Evolutionary Aikido 2013 seminar over the weekend, and this class was a little bit of a warm-up/preview for us. It was also the first class of the year at our dojo, so some of the work we did centered around the transition from the old to the new year.

First we were asked to think of something we wanted to continue from the past. I chose my ability to change direction easily. I’m pretty flexible about changing circumstances. “OK, we’ll just do something different now.” It’s served me well, especially in the last few years, switching from horses to Aikido, and from my former career to writing. Dropping this and moving on to that. I think I’ve been getting better at it recently, with practice. 

Next we were asked to come up with something we wanted to let go of, or stop doing. Thinking of my inability to stay focused earlier in the day I chose being distracted. I’d like to stop being distracted from completing my intended task. Think of how much more I could accomplish, doing better work with less struggle! 

And then I realized that those were two sides of the same coin - the positive ability to change focus, to set off in a new direction, and the negative consequences of taking just any new direction unconsciously. It’s especially interesting given that one aspect of the seminar is going to be opposites, or things that are seemingly opposites. Too much of one or the other can be pathological, but when they coexist it can lead to a better outcome. I certainly have some material to work with, here! And it’s important, real stuff that’s present in my day-to-day life, not some “woo-woo” philosophical ponderings to be left behind come Monday morning. I need to be disciplined and productive if I’m going to be successful, but I also need to keep the openness and responsiveness, being willing to adjust as I go.

As we were training, I kept an awareness of my intention to stay focused on what I was doing - trying to let go of being distracted. Even then my attention would wander! That technique was like something else I saw recently. Did our friends from Tijuana have a long wait to cross the border? Were we getting too close to that other pair? Someone over there looked concerned - maybe they needed help with something. My tendency to do anything [I]but[/I] stay present was very strong, and very annoying! I’d heard people speak of Aikido as “moving meditation,” but I never really got that until just then, when I noticed how much my experience was like trying to stay aware of feeling my breathing.

I’ve seen something related to this before, about myself - in workshops with Sensei - that in my world productive work and joyful expression cannot co-exist. I have being disciplined and staying on task confused with stern, separate, dull, lonely punishment. Being expressive and happy means I’m not doing whatever I’m supposed to be doing. The opposite of that is pursuing whatever is interesting at the moment, socializing with friends, doing the laundry or even cleaning the donkeys’ corral. Work is hard, and play is fun. Even when I’ve chosen the task and it’s something I love, it triggers a part of me that rebels at doing it, and will do anything to run away. 

With three intense days of training ahead I am sure I will have many opportunities to confront and examine these issues. I [I]know [/I]there is freedom in discipline, love in work, and joy in productivity. My brain [I]knows [/I]that. Now if I can just begin to allow myself the [I]experience [/I]of it… I’m looking forward to the weekend, and to what comes after.

- - - - -

[I]p.s. I sat down to write this post earlier today, but found a hundred other things to do instead. Too distracted to write about being distracted. Ha! Now, after a solid, physical evening of training, I’ve finally been able to stick with it long enough (3 hours) to get it done. I’d be willing to have this process flow more easily.[/I]]]></body>
	<date>01-04-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4689">
	<title><![CDATA[What I Learned by Not Going to a Seminar]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[In addition to writing my blog, I am part of a group of women called "The Mirror," here on AikiWeb. We write one of the monthly columns, taking turns each time. My most recent one, "[B]What I Learned by Not Going to a Seminar[/B]" was published on December 31st. Enjoy...

"For months my teacher, Dave Goldberg Sensei, had been planning to participate in the Dead Sea Seminar, led by Miles Kessler Sensei and Patrick Cassidy Sensei, in Israel. There were to be other stops along the way, making this a 15-day trip for him. Before the seminar, Sensei would stop in Switzerland to train, and was to teach an Aikido Without Borders class in the Ramallah, in the West Bank. A couple of dojo mates were planning to participate in the seminar as well. It was a big deal, to have a contingent from our dojo going, and it would be the longest time Sensei had been away.

... [I][continue reading at the link below]"[/I]
[URL="http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/showthread.php?t=22101"]http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/showthread.php?t=22101[/URL]]]></body>
	<date>01-03-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4688">
	<title><![CDATA[New Year's Day, 2013]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Happy New Year to you!

I'm so excited about this year. I've spent the past 6 months, the last half of 2012, getting ready. I transitioned from full-time to part-time work so I could focus more on Aikido and writing. I've started organizing my work, found resources, learned new tools, and gotten ongoing coaching. I launched my own publishing company (which has yet to publish anything, but it'll be there when I need it), Shugyo Press. I've finished up projects, and gotten rid of things I'm not using. I've given musical instruments away, put horse stuff on consignment, and donated books. I've cleared out and cleaned up space, in my house, on my shelves, and in my mind. Yesterday, New Year's Eve, I spent the whole day cleaning, right down to the cobwebs on the ceiling and the gunk on the baseboards. Michael and I enjoyed a quiet little celebration with a long-time friend.

Now, fueled by a good night's sleep and two cups of coffee, I'm on a ridge looking over a vast plain. I have time to think and room to move. I won't try to plan out 2013 - there's too much I don't know - but I have an idea of the direction I want to take. I can see what lies just ahead pretty well, though, and I'm really excited about it. Here's what I have planned for the next few weeks:

Today, New Year's Day - Clean the dojo in preparation for a seminar this coming weekend, and then head to another local dojo, Jiai Aikido, for a joint Kagami Biraki training session and potluck with the nice folks there. What a fun way to start the year.

Tomorrow, Wednesday - Do final dojo cleanup. Help in the afternoon kids' class, or maybe teach it, depending on Sensei's schedule. Participate in the evening's class - our first class of the year - which will be co-taught by our Dave Goldberg Sensei and Miles Kessler Sensei. (Woohoo!)

Every free moment between these things, physical therapy (PT) exercises. Lots of stretching and strengthening. Something in my right shoulder is pulling on my spine, sending zinging, tingling sensations down my left arm to my thumb and forefingers. The good news is that most of what I do on the mat helps (although I can't take ukemi for ikkyo ura right now). I started PT a couple of weeks ago. It's going slowly, but I've got to get this resolved.

This Friday through Sunday, participate in a seminar at our dojo with Kessler Sensei and Goldberg Sensei. I'm really looking forward to this!

And the whole time, writing. Outlining, organizing, planning, and just plain writing. I'm participating in an ongoing group of writers, The Merry Inksters, who are a big help in staying focused and leaning the ins and outs of professional writing and publishing. Starting a week from today I'll be taking a local 5-week course on writing and publishing, too. My short-term goal is go have my first eBook (a little one, just for fun) available on Amazon.com by the end of February.

Meanwhile, in mid-January there's the annual Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar. This will be my 4th year participating, and I'm excited to see what this year holds. For the first time I won't be at all 5 days, though! On Sunday I'll be going to Mexico for shodan exams at Aikido Tijuana. That's going to be a great time.

Then more writing, and continuing preparation for my 1st kyu exam, which is scheduled for March 9th. A friend and I will be testing together. That should keep me plenty busy!

Now, time to get out of here and head to the dojo!]]></body>
	<date>01-01-2013</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4684">
	<title><![CDATA[2012 - Starting in a New Direction]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[IMG]http://25.media.tumblr.com/4c091b5c11bd4aa549644ef6780b1560/tumblr_mfpgjuw1dm1qa5ysdo1_500.jpg[/IMG]

2012 has been a year for taking a new direction. I turned 50, which is, even for an optimist, "halfway there." I almost certainly have fewer years ahead of me than behind me. I've developed an increasing intolerance for the idea of "getting around to it someday," and have been taking decisive action on many fronts. Years aside, I have more life ahead of me than behind. I have more choices, more resources, more opportunities, and more freedom - all the space in the world for experiencing, creating, and enjoying.

I've been letting go of lots of things - letting go of my identification with them - horse things, books, musical instruments. I'm selling a few things, and giving other things away, which is far more fun. I just took down my very outdated 180+ page personal website ([URL="http://www.LindaEskin.com"]www.LindaEskin.com[/URL]) and replaced it with much simpler page leading to some of my other sites. I'm cleaning up physical spaces, decluttering my environment and my mind, making room and time for things that matter.

I've decided I'm going to be a writer when I grow up. More accurately, I finally noticed that I am a writer, and started acting in accordance with that. At the end of summer I stopped working full-time in user experience, and instead am focusing most of my energies on writing professionally. I started out with the goal of writing two books - a quick, short one just for fun, to learn how the process works, and one about my experience of Aikido. What I'm finding as I get deeper into it is that there will likely be a small collection of books. In addition to writing consistently, I've been learning about writing tools (hooray for Scrivener!), book formats, and publishing options. I'm participating in The Merry Inksters, a support and coaching group for writers. That's been both very helpful and a lot of fun. I launched my own publishing company (with no products yet!), Shugyo Press, named for the ongoing, daily, transformative practice that Aikido is for me. I'm planning to have my first book out in a few months. 

I've been training right along, including helping in kids' classes, and even teaching a few sessions when Sensei was away (look for "The Mirror" column about that experience, coming soon on AikiWeb). I was lucky to be able to travel to some seminars, and participate in even more at our dojo. I am scheduled to test for 1st kyu in March, so now I'm preparing for that. 2012 brought many fresh insights, and a lot of new or deepening friendships. I'm grateful for every moment on the mat, and delighted to still wake up excited about training. My wish for everyone is that they can find the same thing in their own lives - something to be grateful for every moment, and to wake up excited to be doing. Maybe for you it's music, gardening, painting, research, or teaching. If you haven't found it yet, keep looking, it's worth it.

2012 been a very rewarding year, and I'm looking forward to the adventure that 2013 will certainly be.]]></body>
	<date>12-27-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4657">
	<title><![CDATA[Sensei Speaks (a haiku)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[B]This is the good stuff.
Focus hard. Listen closely.
Damn! I missed the point.[/B]

-----

[I]This is what happened when I hyper-focused on something I wanted to be sure to understand and remember. D'oh![/I]]]></body>
	<date>10-30-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4652">
	<title><![CDATA[To Do List]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Give the ancient little oak ukelele to your friend at work. She’ll enjoy it.

Sell your 5-string banjo, as simple as they come, in its solid case with the rope handle by which you’ve carried it to workshops. If you haven’t learned to play it yet…

Sell the basic-but-serviceable electric guitar, even though you love the curvy shape, and dark, polished wooden body.

Return the good electric one to Michael. He can have fun playing in its dozens of alternate tunings and different voices.

Keep your favorite acoustic guitar, and another to pass around at parties. 

Keep the little red electric one. It could be fun to goof around with.

Keep your mandolin and fiddle, too.

Pack up boxes of books. The programming books and cookbooks, Dilbert and Miss Manners, biographies and histories, physics and feminism. 

Drop off books on dealing with an addict. Your sister has been gone for years, and someone else at the recovery center will be needing them. 

Keep the books about Aikido, music, gardening, and horsemanship.

You are not going to single-handedly restore public access to trails through your community. Find someone else who can use your boxes of files, piles of notebooks, and rolls of maps. You are not the keeper of local history. Give these things to someone who is.

Take down the colorful glass suncatchers that were enchanting 20 years ago, but now just gather dust and block the view. The painting of koi can go, too.

Clear out the garage, too, that place where unneeded things go when you can’t quite get rid of them. Get rid of them now. 

That cast-iron dutch oven set you meant to donate to a raffle? Donate it.

Sort through those boxes of desk clutter from past jobs. Do you want to have a desk in an office again? No. Burn the boats.

Keep the tools, gardening supplies, and camping gear.

Keep the tractor!

Oh yeah… The saddle rack, covered in a dusty sheet, and the big cabinet full of nearly-new riding gear. Clear it out. English saddles and Western, and bareback pad. Bridles, stirrups, cinches, and blankets. Clean it up and drop it off at your friend’s consignment shop. Even the saddle rack goes. Most things in the dressing room of the  horse trailer, too. And all the clothes, the breeches, show clothes, jackets. Off to new homes.

Everything goes except that one saddle, handmade by a friend, which would perfectly fit a sweet-natured drafty little mare with no withers. Just in case.

Give away, donate, or sell anything you can. Throw the rest in the dumpster, and then have even that hauled away.

Make room for movement and openings for creativity. Clear out space for friends. Declutter, unclog, and open up. Dump the teacup.

——- :do: 

[I]It’s been very difficult for me to get down to some of the hard work of cleaning out things I no longer use or need. It finally occurred to me a few days ago that this process is very much like handling the estate of a loved one. These things represent a life that is over. They meant something to somebody. It’s hard to clear out things and say goodbye, even when they were your own things, and your own life. But the stuff from the former resident has to go if a new person is going to be living here. [/I]]]></body>
	<date>10-24-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4648">
	<title><![CDATA[Practice (poem)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Everything we do is training,
Like if we grouse about it raining,
We learn the habit of complaining.
Practice gratitude, instead.

We build our habits brick by brick,
That make us healthier, or sick.
Our actions cause these things to stick.
What we do, we will become.

We tell our passions just to hush.
We hurry things, and learn to rush.
We worry our spirits into mush
When we could chill instead.

Constant practice is our call.
Not “practice” as in basketball, 
A full-time thing, including all;
The way we live our lives.

There’s not a separate time or space, 
It’s every hour, and every place,
There is no finish, it’s not a race,
The practice is the goal.

Practice settling, opening, breathing,
Living, growing, even grieving.
These threads form the cloth we’re weaving
Into who we really are.

Feel into the body’s system
It has a certain ancient wisdom
We might discover, if we listen
Centered, grounded love.

[I][I’m not quite happy with this, but as I’ve hit the deadline I set for getting started on another thing today I’m calling it good for the moment and sharing it. I may edit it later.][/I]]]></body>
	<date>10-16-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4641">
	<title><![CDATA[What better reason to train?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[One morning recently a group of high school students visited the dojo to experience a special class, to get a feel for what Aikido has to offer us. They were a very nice bunch of young people - thoughtful, articulate, and open-minded. Aikido is a really broad and challenging subject to grasp in only an hour or so, but they picked things up pretty quickly, and made some very perceptive and insightful observations. It occurred to me that at their age they have developed quite good language skills, and still retain the clarity of vision and honesty that children have - not yet jaded.

A theme throughout the class was looking at Aikido as a practice of noticing and letting go of our resistance in life. Our natural inclination in relationship to others is to be light, open, joyful, loving, to see clearly, express ourselves, and trust. To be connected. But when resistance blocks that way of being we are left with anger, sadness, cynicism, living in fear and confusion. Shut down and alone.

At one point Sensei was demonstrating a blend, with me as uke. He was showing what it looks like when we are coming from resistance, tight, cringing, contracted. Maybe being pushy or reactive. I'm sure I've forgotten the exact words, but he was asking something like "what is my resistance keeping me from expressing?" The kids threw out a few answers safe answers. And then from one girl, "Your love for her."

There were some uncomfortable giggles. It may have sounded like she was teasing. But I think she was serious - it was a sweet and honest comment - and I think she nailed it. Our resistance, in relationship to others, whether it shows up as fear, uncertainty, shame, or whatever, keeps us from expressing our love for each other.

When we get right down to it, could there really be any better reason to train?]]></body>
	<date>10-08-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4634">
	<title><![CDATA[Acceleration. As in rocket sled.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This past month or so has been an amazingly varied, intense, and joyful period of Aikido for me. I've had a great time, and learned tons. I would not have said a few weeks ago that I was on a plateau. I wasn't feeling frustrated or stalled out in any way. But in the last few weeks I have felt a sort of acceleration kick in. Zero to 60 is one thing. But when you've already been doing 60... Wow. 

I'm not sure why it's been like this, but I'm enjoying the heck out of it, and waking up excited about each day. In my experience, as a native San Diegan, this time of year is one of beginnings. It's blazing hot for months, and then things start to cool off. Rain comes, and the hills start to go from gold to green. I associate the changing light and weather with the start of start of the school year, so it just feels like a time for learning new things. Also, I've been writing a lot here (not just the posts you've seen, but drafts for future posts, or just private reflections), plus putting my thoughts down on paper after class in a notebook I carry with me in my dojo bag. Writing helps me digest information, see patterns, and remember. I've been writing because I've been inspired by everything I'm experiencing and learning, but the writing also deepens the experience and solidifies the learning.

Actually, this all really started around the beginning of August. Sensei did some really revealing and inspired work with us on embodying qualities in our Aikido. We had several classes that, even though each was only an hour, generated the kinds of insights I might hope for from participating in a seminar. Lots of discovery and realizations. The kind of work that whaps you upside the head and wakes you up. I was in the midst of several personal transitions, discovering where I fit in, and the processes we did on in class helped me see more clearly the real issues underlying some situations I'd been suffering over.  

Later in August, while on vacation with my husband, Michael, I got to train at Portland Aikikai, in Oregon. They were very nice folks. I hope I have the chance to go back. If you're in the area, stop in and train (ask first, of course). They are a warm, welcoming group. I participated in three classes, with three different teachers. That was very challenging! Each one had a little different feeling to their class, and everything was a little different from what I'm used to. So I had to stay very awake! Even warm-ups were done a little differently. Training there was really fun, and mentally exhausting, paying attention that closely for that long. 

Also while on vacation I managed to sneak in an Friday morning class at Michael Friedl Sensei's dojo in Ashland, Oregon. I'd trained with Friedl Sensei once before, at the Aiki Retreat, and felt right at home. Here again, if you're in the area, get in touch with him about training. It was a pretty laid-back energy class, which was wonderful, because it was at 7 a.m., and I'm not sure I'd have been up to anything too terribly vigorous at that hour. I'd never trained that early before! At the end of class Friedl Sensei took a moment to explain why they were all (even himself) wearing white belts and no hakama. For a couple of months (if I remember correctly) each year everyone in the dojo wears a white belt. It's to remind them of Beginner's Mind, and that we're all on this path of learning together, even the teacher. I really like that idea, and it fits right into the sense of newness I've been feeling about training. 

On our way south we stopped in Chico, California, where I got to observe a couple of hours of Danzan Ryu Jujitsu classes at Chico Kodenkan (founded in 1939!). Aikido has roots in Jujitsu, but I'd never actually seen it before. So I was very fortunate that this dojo was about 3 blocks from where Michael went to play in a traditional Irish music session, and happened to have classes at the same time. Here I only went to watch, but the teacher (maybe Ken Couch?) was very generous about stepping off the mat to explain their teaching system and history, and to answer my questions. He said next time they'd get me on the mat. That would be fun! I also got to meet their Sensei, Delina Fuchs, a gracious woman who made me feel very welcome. Once more, if you're in Chico... Well, you know. :-) The class I watched included two senior students who appeared to be training for an upcoming exam, and a few children who were just beginning. A couple of the kids had to go early, leaving one very new boy and the two seniors in the class. The instructor had them do a really creative, fun Sumo kind of exercise in balance breaking that put the little newbie kid on an equal footing with the much more experienced, bigger students. I often find that watching the teaching and class management is as fascinating as seeing the techniques demonstrated, and this fun, effective exercise was a great opportunity for that. 

After returning from vacation, on Saturday, September 1st we had two shodan exams at our dojo. We've averaged about one a year since I started, so two on one day was a big deal. It was great to see two friends who have mentored and encouraged me from day one take that big step. Inspiring. And the next day (Sunday) one of our other shodans celebrated his 75th birthday! 

The next weekend, September 7th-9th, we had a seminar on Connection, co-taught by Denise Barry Sensei from Kuma Kai Aikido in Sebastopol, and our own Dave Goldberg Sensei. Part of it was at a retreat center in the mountains. We worked on what it means to be connected - to ground, to ourselves, to our partners, to others. We took a long look at how we relate to being connected. What qualities would a connected person have? What's easy/difficult for us about connecting. I really started to see connection in a broader context. That whole experience is still reverberating for me, and I'm sure will be for a very long time.

Back at the dojo I was available to help out in the kids' classes for the first time! During the past month I've been able to assist a few times with both the 5-7 year-olds, and the 8-13 group. I don't have a lot of experience working with children, and am grateful to be able to see how Sensei interacts with them, and to have my more experienced dojo-mates, Oya and Gilbert, as examples and mentors. He uses a balanced mix of action and stillness, fun and discipline, teaching and participation. It's been interesting seeing how they learn, and I got to participate in some fun games and exercises, too.

The week after our own seminar, I took the train (20 hours each way!) to a Weekend Intensive with George Ledyard Sensei, at Two Rivers Budo in Sacramento, on September 14th-16th. I've posted a good bit about that already. The short version is that it was three days of looking at things from a slightly different perspective, and was great fun. A little extra-special aspect of the weekend was that I had the opportunity to interview Ledyard Sensei. (One video is out on YouTube now, and the others will be available soon.) 
The next Saturday, the 22nd, we had kyu exams at the dojo. I got to be uke for a friend testing for 4th kyu. He did a great job on his test, as did the others testing that day. As is traditional, we all went for lunch afterward.

The day after exams, Sunday, a big group of us went to Tijuana, Mexico (about 20 miles south of the dojo) with Sensei, who was teaching a seminar, "The Evolution of Flow," along with Victor Alvarado Sensei of Aikido Tijuana. The trip was an adventure, the seminar was brilliant, and the party afterward was great fun. What a nice bunch of people! And of course the seminar was another path to seeing things with fresh eyes and feeling new energies.

Both at that seminar and in class a few times recently I've gotten to take ukemi for Sensei. I love having that chance to feel his technique. It means having to really pay sharp attention and be extra sensitive and responsive. It's an especially rich experience, and I really enjoy and appreciate having that opportunity.

Classes at our dojo are never "the same old thing," but this past week has been, for me at least, an intensive period of in-depth, precise, technical training. Honestly I don't know how much that's what's being taught, and how much it's that I'm paying attention more closely. Either way, the whole week has been like opening my head and pouring buckets of information into my brain (and body). I've been noticing bigger patterns and relationships between blends and techniques from various attacks. More layers to the onion. I've been taking pages and pages of notes after class, trying not to lose any of the precious details I've been noticing. This is what inspired my poetic post recently about trying not to drop any of bounty of delicious gifts from a friend's garden.

Wrapping up the month, on Saturday the 29th I took a 3-hour Self Defense for Women class at our local adult education center. I wanted to see what the class covered, how the teacher managed a roomful of newbies, and what kind of concerns the participants brought to the class. I get a lot of people asking me about taking Aikido for "self defense"/personal safety reasons. This is a class I would feel comfortable referring them to, if that's really what they want. It was interesting seeing how the participants approached training. Some were quite good at picking it up. One didn't grasp the concept of "pulling" an elbow strike to the solar plexis. (Ooof!) Another woman, in a game of balance-breaking, kept pushing off me when I was solid and she wasn't, and knocking herself over. And she thought I'd done it to her. Interesting... I wonder where else that happens in her life? It was a fun class, and yet another perspective.

What fun!  Lots of great classes, five dojos, three seminars, about a dozen teachers, working with kids, taking ukemi, shodan exams, kyu exams, four parties, travel, writing, high falls, technical work, personal process work... And I'm probably forgetting a lot, too!

Today I started out with a massage. Now I'm off with Michael to visit a great bookstore, listen to music, and have dinner with friends. And tomorrow... Another new month of Aikido begins. Yay!]]></body>
	<date>09-30-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4630">
	<title><![CDATA[Searu. Clarity.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I came upon this footnote yesterday, about the Japanese word "saeru":

[B]"*note: saeru is clarity, and Harry Watson notes that the word has strong poetic force, and says the best way to think of it is in relation to the clarity of the moon on a cold autumn night."[/B]

The specificity of meaning really struck me. What a beautiful image. "Clarity" alone is OK, but each of us might make up in our mind's eye something different that it means for us. I might envision a turquoise beach in a cove, where I can see all the way down to the white sand beneath the lapping waves. You might see a perfect crystal bowl, with sparkling facets splitting the sunlight into rainbows on the dining room walls.

[B]Saeru: The clarity of the moon on a cold autumn night.[/B]

It's easy to picture the outlines of trees against the sky, and sharp shadows on the colorless ground. We can feel the chill in the still air, which smells vaguely of damp earth. Searu. Clarity.

In class we are sometimes given an element to explore. Sensei will call out a word: Earth, fire, water, wind, smoke, life, steam… We try to manifest the feeling of the word in our Aikido. It helps us access new energies within ourselves that we may not have realized we possessed, or maybe have been afraid to show. A heavy, deliberate person might find a new lightness through being smoke for a few minutes. One who is quick and forceful might discover that they can flow and relax when embodying the character of water.

The meaning of each word is intentionally left open to interpretation. Water can smash to splinters boats left resting at their docks, tumble cheerfully with a invigorating whoosh over rocks in a riverbed, or trickle gently into a pool in a desert canyon, and it can change from one moment to the next. It's left to each of us to discover water for ourselves.

Other times, we choose our own qualities to work on: Grounded, direct, decisive, compassionate, loving, fluid, patient, passionate, honest, whole, committed, light, joyful, playful, solid, free…

For me, it helps to have a specific, vivid image in mind. When I first started training I really had trouble being compassionate in the way Sensei referred to as "ruthless compassion." I was unfamiliar and uncomfortable being powerful, clear, and direct. It felt mean-spirited and intrusive. Not nice. Brutal. Rude. It was difficult for me to access ruthless compassion. But then I found an image that really worked for me: A veterinary assistant. Picture a caring, kind, decent person safely but decisively restraining an animal that needs help. Not mean or brutal at all, but clear and direct. Loving, even. And the animal usually feels safer and calmer when handled that way. With that image I was finally able to start exploring the idea of "You, on the ground now, and stay there," without feeling like a jerk about it.

That's why I love that definition of "saeru". It conveys enough information that I can see and feel it. When I've worked with qualities in my Aikido practice I've usually had some vague image in mind, but the words alone elicit nothing in particular. I haven't been really conscious of the importance of getting a specific picture, but I think it would be helpful for me to do that.

I'll play with this idea more as I train. Not just "fluid", but fluid like smoke dancing upward from from a stick of incense in still air. Joyful as a Golden Retriever racing after her tennis ball again and again. Grounded like an ancient Oak tree rooted between huge granite boulders. Vivid, specific, and clear.

——-

[I]The quote at the beginning of the post was from a website shared on Facebook by Keith Larman, a professional sword polisher: [URL="http://www.nihonto.ca/go-yoshihiro/"]http://www.nihonto.ca/go-yoshihiro/[/URL]

Keith commented, when I mentioned liking the quote (which was only tangentially related to what Keith had been sharing about in the first place), "Yeah, Harry has it right on this one. Saeru carries some powerful meaning in this context. And Harry "Afu" Watson is the guy who translated a massive set of works on antique swords (the Nihonto Koza) years ago. A wonderful old Marine who has made life so much easier for those of us whose Japanese ain't that great… :) "[/I]]]></body>
	<date>09-27-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4629">
	<title><![CDATA[Abundance]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[From today’s classes, a bounty:
Blends, techniques, feedback, feelings.
Let it come to you. Relax. Center.
Keep your own alignment and things will work out.

Like armfuls of fresh vegetables from a friend’s garden.
I try to carry them all safely home,
Without dropping any between here and there.
A few escape my grasp and roll away.

But the others, the gifts I do hold onto,
These cool, smooth, deeply-colored orbs, 
coaxed to life from earth, water, and air…
Each is a delicious treasure.]]></body>
	<date>09-26-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4626">
	<title><![CDATA[Why seminars?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I recently participated in yet another Aikido seminar. In fact, it was the weekend immediately following one at our own dojo. Between the two weekends, as I was leaving after Tuesday night’s class, a friend observed that I do a lot of seminars, and must really enjoy them. She asked me what I get out of them. It’s a good question, and one that has a lot of answers.

I find seminars physically and mentally challenging, and that’s fun for me. Training with different instructors, and seeing techniques done in different ways help me get a broader view of the Aikido world. It also helps me see the “normal” way I’m used to doing things with fresh eyes. Sort of like doing everything with your non-dominent hand for a while.

I get to hang out with good friends I only see a time or two a year, some of whom I consider to be my mentors, or maybe more like sisters and brothers. We exchange stories, share ukemi pointers on the backyard lawn, and demonstrate techniques on each other, right in the middle of restaurants. We inspire and encourage each other.

Training with new people lets me feel some really different energy. It gives me a chance to learn to deal with that, and see things I need to work on. At my home dojo we really focus on committed, on-target, intentful attacks. At this seminar, with George Ledyard Sensei*, we did that too, but some of the training was a lot faster and harder than I’m used to. It was a great opportunity to notice where I get reactive, and also where I hold back and get tentative (and I got called out on it, too, LOL).

At first of course holding back in some cases can be appropriate. We were doing unfamiliar kumi-tachi, starting from a kamae that was new to me (gedan hasso), moving quite fast, just making contact with Uke, plus I was using a borrowed bokken, so starting out slowly made sense! It was an intense (in a good way) exercise, and I was very glad Aikido people are kind and patient. I didn’t even get to any basic level of competence in a couple of hours, of course, but I did start getting the idea (and didn’t hurt anyone).

We did a lot of empty-hand training, including combination attacks (two or three strikes in quick succession) on the last day, which were a blast. I went from completely blowing it and getting hit, to at least *noticing* the strikes, and sometimes even responding to them effectively. That was a whole new thing to play with. It was great fun, and helped me be more alert and relaxed.

On my way to the seminar and home again on the train, I was trying to take some really challenging photos, with my iPhone. I got ‘em, too! I got I got pelicans flying alongside the train. I got the head of the train going over a trestle near a curve right along the beach, and the whole train rounding a curve in the hills. I got an Atlas V rocket launch! I got deer browsing near the tracks. I got beautiful sunsets and sunrises, farmland and rolling hills. None of them are spectacularly good photos, and I missed many more (like the wild pig galloping alongside the train!). But it’s pretty cool that I could get them at all, using a phone, Trying to anticipate or notice an opportunity, frame the subject and foreground, focus, and shoot, while on a moving train in unfamiliar terrain is very different from the photography I usually do. I was not expecting great results. I shared my photos with friends on Facebook as I went. I am not looking to replace the SLR I normally use, and if I wanted to get really good photos I’d be spending hours on a single subject. It was a fun exercise, though! By changing things up I was able to see in new ways and be more creative without any expectation that I’d capture something brilliant. Sort of a way of reconnecting me with beginner’s mind.

That’s kind of how seminars are for me. I’m not looking to replace what I have - not searching for a better way. Just getting a fresh perspective, seeing things in a new light, noticing things I hadn’t noticed before. I always enjoy the challenge, and I’m always happy to come home.

And right after I post this I’m going to bed, to get up early on a Sunday and head to Tijuana, Mexico with a group from our dojo. Our own Dave Goldberg Sensei is co-teaching it, along with Victor Alvarado Sensei of Aikido Tijuana Dojo. Another new perspective, another way of seeing things. Looking forward to it!  


[B]*A few personal comments about Ledyard Sensei[/B]
This seminar I traveled to last week was with George Ledyard Sensei of Aikido Eastside, of Bellview, Washington. I’ve admired Ledyard Sensei for as long as I’ve been training. Actually, a little bit longer than that.

After I learned of Aikido, but before I ever ventured into a dojo, I wanted to find out if it was really what I was looking for. To that end, I downloaded a series of podcasts - interviews with Aikido people from several lineages. Interviewees included Robert Nadeau Shihan, Paul Linden, Ellis Amdur, and others. Each one’s discription of Aikido resonated with me in a particular way, and helped confirm I was heading in the right direction.

One of the interviewees was Ledyard Sensei. He discussed the very things I was interested in at the time, especially with regard to my riding and horsemanship – relaxation in the face of incoming energy, training in a way that supports people in handling progressively more threatening situations without developing tension, and dealing with many levels of fear. He helped me determine that indeed, Aikido was what I was looking for.

When I first started training I was completely lost, of course. Because at the time I could only train one evening a week I also spent a lot of time watching videos and reading about Aikido. I found Ledyard Sensei’s DVDs on Entries, and on Aiki, to be very clear and accessible. They helped me grasp and understand what I was seeing in my own training. Sometimes it’s just good to hear things said a few different ways, and Ledyard Sensei’s words about the psychology of perception and about motor learning made a lot of sense to me.

A couple of years later I had the privilege of meeting Ledyard Sensei at the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar in San Diego. Although I was, I think, just a 5th kyu at the time, he hung out with me at lunch, discussing Aikido politics and history, the joys and challenges of running a dojo, and a dozen other things.

I’m very grateful for Ledyard Sensei’s teaching and openness. I finally got a chance to train with him, and am very glad I did. Looking forward to the next opportunity.]]></body>
	<date>09-23-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4621">
	<title><![CDATA[Seminar with George Ledyard Sensei]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Here are some snippets from the [B]Weekend Intensive with George Ledyard Sensei[/B], September 14-16, 2012, at [B]Two Rivers Budo, Sacramento, California[/B]. [I](Note that all quotes here are as best I remember them - not necessarily exact.)[/I]"As a martial artist, you can never have too much sensitivity. What you want to eliminate is reactivity."

"There are those who train when they can, and those who train."

"The hands do not create power; they only give the power direction."

Introducing our upcoming bokken work:
"After lunch we're going to talk about the same stuff, we're just going to have sticks in our hands."

During the lunch break on Saturday I got to play with the high-fall practice spotting-rig thingie at Two Rivers Budo - that was fun! [Concept: Adam Fong,  Craftsmanship: Hannes Stein]

"The gears have to mesh before the drive gear can affect the other one. 
Don't start your tenkan [rotation] until you've made the connection with your partner." 

A few of the subjects discussed in studying irimi: algebra, physics, pick pocketing, black holes, motion receptors, attention, misogi, tomoe, drawing-in, and collusion.

On Saturday we had a short but awesome class with Yoshi Shibata Sensei, who introduced us to his "Yoshi Sticks" to help us see the direction of energy and connection between Uke and Nage.

Many thanks to Ledyard Sensei for three days of challenging, fun, and thought-provoking instruction; to Yoshi Shibata Sensei for an enlightening class on Saturday; and to Geoff Yudien, Adam Fong, and their students for hosting another great seminar.

[I]Something is amiss with tagging on the other version of my blog, but you can find all the original posts, with photos, here: [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/archive"]http://www.grabmywrist.com/archive[/URL] (16 of them, September 2012).[/I]]]></body>
	<date>09-18-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4620">
	<title><![CDATA[A Lifetime on the Train]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I][This is not particularly Aikido-related, but I wrote it on a 20-hour train trip on the way to an Aikido seminar this past weekend. Since I posted it on GrabMyWrist.com I figured I should share it here, too. I'll be compiling some brief posts and quotes from the weekend into a single post here later today, too. 
Linda][/I]
--------------------------

You think of the beautiful Italian woman you waited with at the station, conversing in Spanish - the common ground you share. She’s in your home town for 20 days, making a side trip today, with her sundress, cheerful tote bag, and elegant cream shawl. Utterly alone, yet happy and secure, 6,500 miles from home. The train calls you each to different cars, and with a smile and a quick wave you know you will never see her again. If she told you her name, you’ve forgotten it already.

You write in your red notebook, and a friendly-looking woman takes the seat next to you. Thankfully she nods and lets you be. As her stop approaches you strike up a brief conversation. She rides this train to work most days. Beats driving. She wishes you a good trip, and is gone.

You check Facebook. Another friend has lost her horse. Half a dozen in the space of a month. Neurological disease, laminitis, snake bite, heart failure… Best friends for years, decades… And now an empty stall and a broken heart. You wish her peace. She did all anyone could. Sometimes there’s nothing anyone can do.

At Union Station, with its leather seats and elaborately-tiled walls, you wait for your next train. You notice the young, rosy-cheeked woman next to you is not napping, but Ill. When roused she’s uncoordinated and slurring. She fumbles through her purse and finds a blood glucose test kit. Uh oh. She’s dropping things. You offer a small bunch of grapes, but she has to check first. It’s high. 340. No grapes, but thank you for offering. She seems a little more alert, but not right. You tell her you’re going to have to leave for your train in a few minutes, and ask if she wants you to find someone to help her. “No,” she assures you,”I’ll be OK.” You’re not convinced, and circle back after walking away. She’s gone. You hope she be alright as you hurry to your train.

Everything on the train is new and wonderful, until it isn’t. You learn where the food is, and how the bathroom works. You find your way around, discover a big empty room to play in, and covet the kettle chips they sell in the cafe car. Awesome, fascinating… And then ordinary.

Except for the big room. That doesnt get old. You keep returning to move and stretch, and you meet some people who are likewise desperate to get out of their seats, lie on the floor, reach for the sky, and breathe - the Tai Chi practitioner with sciatica, the woman who, with a little friendly prodding, joins you in a few minutes of swirling warm-ups, and leaves smiling, the Mennonite family with a tiny toddler in her modest coat-dress, glad to move unrestrained for a while, the old woman, who hangs on for support, but indulges in a few stretches as if she’s sampling a favorite childhood food she’d almost forgotten. And there are the ones who don’t come in. Some look wistfully, but their clothing or their sense of propriety prevents them from getting down on the floor on a train, where people might see them. There’s hope for them. Others look at you harshly, as if you are breaking the rules, down here messing around in the basement of the car, instead of sitting still in your seat like you’re supposed to. You feel bad for them.

A large group of old people have been in the observation car for hours, listening to the National Parks Rangers describing the areas we pass. Ladies with canes and little coolers full of healthy snacks to share. Men with green ball caps stating their military affiliations and wars in which they served. When the train reaches their station they all help each other down the steep stairs, and they are gone. You take one of the empty seats near the big picture windows.

You talk with your seatmate for hours. You’re from the same place and culture - San Diego, the beach, connecting with nature and movement - but two decades apart. He reads you the prayers he recites every day. You tell him about embodying qualities you want to develop. There’s a connection there. You each wander off, wander back.. Eventually it’s his stop. At least you member his name.

Now students board. School starts next week. The train picks up dozens at every station. They are on their way to their new beginnings, with their backpacks and smartphones. It’s late and they have a long ride ahead of them. You chat for a few minutes with young lady who just returned from China. The students crash in every horizontal space they can find. The train becomes a rolling dorm.

Your stop nears. You collect your trash, gather your things, and thank your car attendant. You wave goodbyes to a few of those you’ve met, who are still awake and happen to be on your way to the stairs. The train slows to a stop, you step off and vanish down the long ramp as it pulls away.]]></body>
	<date>09-18-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4589">
	<title><![CDATA[Birthday Rolls!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Yesterday was my 50th birthday. For those who I haven't already bored with this story in person, here y' go: 

When I turned 48 I hadn't been training all that long, wasn't in great shape, and my ukemi was way less efficient. We don't often do birthday rolls (mostly because people are out doing other things on their birthdays, I think), so I was kind of surprised, and really tickled when at the end of class Sensei called me up. He said "We have a birthday today. Linda Eskin is turning 18!" And I thought "Why you patronizing so-and-so [edited for civility], not expecting as much of me as of other students... Rrrr..." And then he threw me 18 times, and it about half killed me. :hypno:  LOL  I saw, and appreciated, the wisdom in what he'd done, bless his heart. 

But then afterword he said "And next year she'll be turning 17!" And I thought, "Why you... :grr: No way. That's just not cool." It sure as hell wasn't in my plans to get weaker and [I]less [/I] capable over time. But I knew in one year, which goes by pretty quickly, I probably wouldn't be able to do 49, so right then and there I made it my goal, and told him so, that I would be able to do 50 rolls on my 50th birthday (which was on a class day - yes, I checked, two years ago). 

I've kept that goal in mind this whole time, working on getting the effortful spots out of my rolls as best I can, training for endurance, and taking really good care of myself (icing injuries, doing my PT exercises, etc.). With my birthday fast approaching I did some extra cardio work, and tried a few sets of 20 or so at a time, to prepare and check myself. On Tuesday I wrenched my knee, and iced, massaged, and stretched like mad for two days. Yesterday I woke up with it feeling fine. :cool: 

I wasn't sure I could do it. 100 in a [I]class[/I], yeah, but 50 in a [I]row[/I], I didn't know. I was a little freaked out earlier in the week that I might have to give up partway through, and would look like an idiot in front of everybody. :o  I examined my egoic attachment to even attempting it, and tried to keep the whole thing in perspective. But dammit, it was something I said I was going to be able to do, and I really wanted to know if I actually could. 

A group of friends stayed after class and indulged me, with 5 of them throwing me 10 times each. I may still have looked like an idiot in front of everybody, but I did it. :D  

I'm actually really proud of myself that I was able to achieve a physical goal like that, having never even attempted something like a 5K run. Many thanks to Sensei and my very kind and patient fellow students for putting up with my silliness. And now, back to training.]]></body>
	<date>08-10-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4574">
	<title><![CDATA[Lighten up]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Exquisite. I had to [URL="http://dictionary.reference.com/browse/exquisite?s=t"]look it up [/URL]just now to be sure I had exactly the right word.

“Of special beauty or charm, or rare and appealing excellence, as music, or poetry. Extraordinarily fine. Intense; acute, or keen, as pleasure or pain. Of rare excellence of production or execution, as works of art or workmanship. Keenly or delicately sensitive or responsive.”

Yep. That’s it. Tonight’s classes were exquisite. Another of those “I don’t know how Sensei does that” evenings.

I’d better back up a few steps, since a lot of things came together for me:

[LIST]
[*]I’ve been reading Dan Millman’s “The Way of the Peaceful Warrior” in which his training includes some intense self-discipline, and he manages that successfully (mostly). I found that admirable, enviable, and lacking in my own life.
[*]I have signed up for the week-long [URL="livingembodiment.org"]Living Embodiment Conference [/URL]in November 2012, and I’m really excited about it, even though it’s not for months yet. Something about this work speaks to me, especially as experienced and expressed through Aikido.
[*]I keep telling myself I want to lose those last few pounds. And yet I find myself drawn to the kitchen, or mysteriously eating more than I really should. It’s not that hard, I’ve done it before… but it’s like I’m not paying attention. At all. 
[*]Over the weekend I had things I wanted to get done. I did some of them, but piddled around and neglected many others. By Sunday night my car was still a mess, and I hadn’t started my laundry. Then today I couldn’t seem to get my brain wrapped around my work until around noon.
[/LIST]

Habitual, unconscious, self-defeating behaviors have been getting the better of me, and I’m not proud of it. I drove to the dojo after work fairly fed up and disgusted with myself over my lack of self-discipline. I considered talking to Sensei, but got busy warming up, and forgot all about it.

The first class was a slow progression of exercises leading to a direct, penetrating kokyu-ho. Lots of feeling, receiving, and blending as uke, and giving clear, direct energy as Nage. I had the privilege of training with some very new people, and watching how Sensei worked with them on where they were holding tension, being out of alignment, or resisting. I try to check my own ability to observe, to see if I’ve noticed any of the things he’s pointing out. It was fascinating, as that always is, and I’m grateful to be able to observe his teaching close up, in addition to experiencing it myself.

So, I come to class all fired up to learn more about embodiment, and there it is, a major component of the first class. This happens a lot, and it’s not just me. It frequently happens that classes address something particularly relevant. People hear exactly what they needed to hear, or get to work through that thing that’s been on their mind. I hear of it happening very often. Maybe it’s [URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4ToUAkEF_d4"]one of those Shrimp Plate things[/URL], like when you buy a new car, and suddenly it seems like everyone is driving the same car. In any case, it’s magical when it happens.

The second class, Sensei said, was going to be jiyuwaza (free technique). Awesome. Great fun, a good workout, and always revealing. True enough, but this one also dug a little deeper.

It started with Sensei asking us to think of one way of being that, if we could be that way (or be more that way), our life would work better. (Not quoting here, just remembering it the way I understood it.) There is somewhere within me that little kid who wants to jump up, arm waving, and shout “Oooohh!!! Oooohh!!! I’ve got one!!!” Yeah, no long soul-searching required here: “My life would work better if I were more disciplined. Or maybe focused or something.” I tried escaping from it momentarily. “No, disciplined.” Done.

And again I had that experience of wondering if Sensei has installed a chip in my brain that gets scanned as I enter the dojo, or if he just reads minds naturally. In any case, I was delighted that the class was heading in this direction, because I needed it!

We started into the exercise by choosing two qualities that would support us in being that. Everyone arrived at their two. I chose whole (as in integrity), and committed. We did some work with those, embodying those qualities and expressing them in our jiyuwazas with each other. I felt grounded, sturdy, focused, aligned, and determined, but I also noticed that I felt serious, dark, heavy, dull, and alone. And that observer that we all have sat on my shoulder and watch me try to run away. I kidded around, I watched the pair next to us, I made light of something. I didn’t want to be there, as whole and committed. Huh…

I decided that whole and committed alone were dull and lifeless. So maybe another quality that would support me in being disciplined would be passion. It’s hard to be disciplined about anything if you’re not passionate about it. So I played with passion next - whole, committed, and passionate. Much better. More life, more power, more outward, more exciting. But still deadly serious, earnest, forceful… Still not a nice place to be. Effective, but somehow lonely and cold. Still dark and heavy. 

Dark and heavy, eh? Hmmm… What fourth quality would support me in being a more disciplined person? Lightness? Could self-discipline be light? Bright, airy, and weightless? So I chose that, as a counterbalance, or complement. In jiyuwaza it worked beautifully - whole, committed, passionate, and light - and was a lot more fun.

Wait, you mean one can be disciplined and joyful? Interesting… What sort of underlying, unnoticed, and unquestioned assumption about life would I need to have where learning that would be surprising? Oh, right! That being self-disciplined is to be serious, all work and no play. No fun allowed until you’ve done the things you’re supposed to do. Whoa… I checked in with what I was feeling. Yes, thinking about being a disciplined person feels, in my gut, like being sent to my room, or like being told I can’t play with my friends until I do my homework. Of course I want to get away, and be anywhere else! Of course I rebel at the perceived confinement, restriction, and separateness. 

What if my assumption about life and being disciplined was wrong? (Duh…) What if I can be a disciplined person who is whole, committed, passionate, and light? That brings up a whole different feeling - a sense of energy, potential, wonder, enthusiasm, togetherness, and freedom.  

Maybe it’s not only possible to lighten up and still be successful, maybe it’s necessary, for me. Hmmm… Well there’s something to play with (and remind myself of) tomorrow morning. And the next day, and the next.

I bowed in expecting to have a good time throwing my friends around the dojo, and getting thrown around in return. Yes, that was there. But also layer upon layer upon layer of discovery and learning? Dan Millman learns, in the book, that there are no ordinary moments. Indeed, there are no ordinary Monday night classes. I think “exquisite” pretty much nails it.]]></body>
	<date>07-24-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4570">
	<title><![CDATA[Always trust your cape]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I’ve been applying Aikido off the mat lately, in a big way. Feeling what’s actually happening, instead of imposing my interpretations or expectations. Blending with circumstances instead of fighting them. Seeing things from others’ points of view - and seeing others as cooperative partners, not in opposition. Keeping my center and integrity, speaking clearly and directly. Finding a resolution that leaves everyone in a better place. I’d be kind of impressed with myself for being so clever, except that it’s simply an effect of my Aikido training that I can’t not-do these things. Oh, I did plenty of resisting and fumbling around first, but ultimately the Aikido came through.

I’ll start with right now. So far this weekend has been absolutely wonderful. I am starting to decompress and breathe lately, and am getting caught up a little at a time.

Yesterday (Friday) afternoon I got checked for new glasses, which I need for an upcoming trip; my eyes aren’t happy about contacts lately. Then I had a couple of hours before going to dinner with family visiting from out of town, so I was able to putter in the yard, watering the native plants I put in months ago. Dinner was relaxed, and we all sat and talked and enjoyed each others’ company. Afterward, Michael and I went for a walk along the beach boardwalk at Coronado. Before bed I did some planning for upcoming projects I’m excited about getting started.

This morning I did a bit of writing on an idea that came to me while driving to the dojo. I’m getting over angry back muscles, so I just watched the first class and warmed up at the break. I was able to roll the length of the dojo and back, which was very encouraging. I participated in the second class - weapons. The 2nd-kyus and up had a great class on the first five kumi-jo, while the white belts went through the first 10 jo suburi.

After class I picked up food at the little farmers market store across from the dojo, and drove home eating bar-b-que potato chips. Not the best nutritional choice, but man were they good! This afternoon Michael and I used the tractor to take out dozens of accumulated trashcans of donkey manure, and filled our 3-yard dumpster to the brim. Later, he headed east with a friend to do some astronomy out where the skies are dark and the air is clear, and I went to a friend’s house to celebrate her birthday.

After coming home I picked up my guitar for the first time in many months, and discovered to my delight that not only can I still pretty much play the thing, but it’s easier than in the past because my arms and hands are stronger. I spent a few minutes watching our local mother raccoon and her babies eating on the back porch, and then I rinsed a huge handful of delicious cherries for a snack, and sat down to write this. And it’s still only Saturday. Bliss.

This pleasant, relaxed weekend isn’t something that Just Happened. A few months ago I was completely bogged down and overwhelmed. I was tired from working long hours for months, and frustrated because personal projects were piling up. I was falling behind on chores and house maintenance. I drove by my neglected plants on the way out the driveway, knowing I wouldn’t be able to tend to them any time soon. The neighbors dropped by to pick a bag of our amazing oranges, since we were just letting them fall and rot - they thought due to lack of interest, but really it was lack of daylight hours to pick them. The first time I noticed my bed of beautiful red Amaryllis flowers they had already bloomed and dried up and I missed seeing them at all. These are warning signs that things aren’t right. “Your life might be out of balance if…”

I couldn’t see a way to dig myself out, nevermind getting into a position to pursue some of my own work that’s really important to me, including writing. As you may have noticed, or maybe you even stopped noticing by now, I haven’t been writing much. Only a few gasps, coming up for air from time to time. 

I paid attention to what I was feeling, and finally recognized what was so: I was exhausted, frustrated, and burned out. I realized I was in a situation that didn’t work for me. Seeing something clearly that way is like seeing a hidden image in a drawing - once you’ve noticed it, you can’t not see it; it’s right there. I was being pulled in too many directions. I wasn’t able to focus or do my best work. I wasn’t happy at all. Once I saw that, I stopped trying to deny it, minimize it, or hope it would go away. I also stopped trying to figure out what was wrong, or who was to blame. Those things just didn’t apply. The reality was what it was. I simply wanted to change how I was handling it. 

If you’re swimming as hard as you can against a strong current, and still not able to keep up, the answer isn’t to try to swim harder, it’s to get out of the middle of the river. 

I needed to make a serious change: Somehow not work so much. Focus on one project at a time. Have time and energy for my personal work. Communicating that is an interesting challenge, and a risky one, but it was a risk I had to take. It felt like an irimi, an entering blend. Get close, see your partner’s view of the world, find a positive resolution. I spoke honestly, from the heart, about what I needed, and suggested a solution.

This week I am starting a new way of working: part-time, hourly, as needed. That means when there’s work, I can work, and when there’s a lull, I can focus on learning, writing, training, and finally getting some gardening done. I will be working almost exclusively off site, which I’m very happy about, since I do well with fewer distractions, a quiet office, and my stand-up (sometimes) desk.

My Michael is being supportive, and is looking forward to some of the house and yard projects I have planned. My employer, to their credit, is willing to give this a try. In theory, it should work well all around. I can ease the workload during busy times, and not be a burden on the payroll during slow times.

I’m taking a few weeks off, too. I’ll get caught up on some things, get started on others, and take an actual vacation with Michael - a two-week road trip to Portland to visit some friends. It’s been a long time since we’ve gone on a proper vacation and we’re both really looking forward to it.

There is no way before training in Aikido that I would have found my way to this outcome. I would have denied the reality of the situation. I would assigned blame and felt victimized. I would have avoided conflict by leaving my job (which I really do enjoy - just in smaller amounts), instead of initiating difficult conversations about alternatives. I would have moved toward a “resolution” that really didn’t work well for anyone. Regular training in embodying these skills, feeling, aligning, blending, acting with clarity and directness, is what let me be who I need to be to have this happen.

Tomorrow, Sunday, I get to sleep in. Eventually, we’re going to the Sea Chanty Festival at the San Diego Maritime Museum. I’ve been wanting to go for years, and somehow haven’t gotten around to it. On the way home I’m stopping by the office to clear out my desk, and leave it ready for a new hire who can now be in with the team. I’ll finally get my oil changed - another long-overdue chore. To top it off I have a massage in the evening. Joy!

———

By the way, the title of this post is taking from a Guy Clark song, “The Cape”. I highly recommending listing to it - right through to the last verse. :-) Enjoy: [URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6bZ37nexSY"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T6bZ37nexSY[/URL]

“Spread your arms and hold your breath, and always trust your cape.”]]></body>
	<date>07-22-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4544">
	<title><![CDATA[The Possibility of Balance]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Dang, I am really behind on posting. I read a quote recently that suggested one should meditate for 20 minutes a day, and if too busy for that, then meditate for an hour a day. It's a really good point. Pausing is in order. 

For horsepeople, perhaps think of meditation as a half-halt in the forward motion of life, a momentary slowing to regroup. Get your feet under you, collect, and then continue in a more organized, empowered way.

I have been just too busy. Mostly with work, and then with trying to get caught up from having been too busy with work. Things are slowing down now, and I've got a little breathing room.

More important, thanks to support from my darling hubby, and a willingness to be creative with working arrangements on the part of my employer, I am on course for creating a more balanced life in the long term.

Getting myself into a better daily rhythm is important. Sitting for hours on end is terrible for anyone's health, and particularly injurious to mine, I think. It really aggravates my peripheral neuropathy, so by the end of 8 or 9 hours everything hurts. It's a miserable experience, on all levels. Being able to be active for more of the day is something I'm moving toward at every opportunity. And getting enough sleep. That one's a challenge.

My goal is to have time and flexibility to pursue writing more consistently, to focus more deeply on my Aikido training, and get a hundred (+/-) projects done, or heck, started - house maintenance, yard improvements, a vegetable garden, that kind of thing. Oh, and simplifying, focusing, and decluttering. I have a lot of getting rid of things to do, to make space for whatever's next.

Meanwhile, here's a litte catching up since my last post, at the "O Sensei Revisited" retreat (May 18-20, 2012). It was a wonderful little camp in Occidental, California, just north of the Bay Area, in the woods. I had posted bits and pieces about the event, until the WiFi went out at the Lodge. And then I drove home. And then I went to work the next morning. And didn't come up for air until now. 

We had an amazingly good time. The people were wonderful, the food was good, the facility was recently built, and well designed, and the surroundings were beautiful. Twelve of us went from Aikido of San Diego. It was a great dojo bonding experience. Someday, we will bring Oya the tea she deserves. 

The workshop itself was brilliant. It'll get its own post, but it had a fairly narrow subject, which we explored in some depth, lead by Nadeau Shihan, with parts presented by several instructors, who each approached the work in their own way.

The trip home was a grand adventure, also deserving of its own post. It included great company on the road, visits with four friends on the way south, a solar eclipse, sitting in a river, incredible coastal views, elephant seals, horses, lots of coffee, and hours of delightful conversation.

Since returning, I have been working and training, mostly. I am very fortunate to be mentoring a friend for his upcoming 3rd kyu exam, which means extra training for me, paying closer attention to details than I often do, and enlisting the help of our generous yudansha to help us through the fuzzy parts.

It's also been a month or so of milestones, transitions, and beginnings happening around me. Again, subjects for another post, but for the moment I'll say it's been a time to look at where I am, where I'm going, and what it will take to get there.

Meanwhile, it's time to feed the donkeys, cats, skunks, 'possums, and raccoon, and then get to bed.]]></body>
	<date>06-20-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4514">
	<title><![CDATA[My Blog Goes on the Road]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[For 5 days, starting bright and early this Thursday morning (May 17th, 2012), I will be off on an Aikido road trip. I'll be driving to northern California and back for the [URL="http://www.aikidomtview.com/MayWorkshop/"]"O Sensei Revisited" workshop[/URL], at a lovely little camp/retreat center. You're invited to come along. You don't even need to pack, just get in the car!

Here's the description from the flyer:
[B]"The inner work of O Sensei should not be lost. Nadeau Sensei believes that it is critical to preserve this face of Aikido and to experience the O Sensei process of development. Through direct practice as well as techniques, weapons work, and discussions, we will highlight this aspect of O Sensei."[/B]

[URL="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?msid=202779919239793946558.0004bfcf9e718a7c2422a&msa=0&ll=34.795762,-118.300781&spn=8.016621,14.27124"]Here's a link to the Google Map of my proposed route[/URL]

I'm planning on posting all along the way, time and internet access permitting. 

[I][B]Please note [/B]that I will not be posting here. Instead, please go to [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com"]www.grabmywrist.com [/URL]to follow along. Why? Several reasons: There will be a lot more posts than usual, possibly several each day, a lot of it won't be about Aikido, and I'll be mostly posting from my phone. It will be a bit of a mess. :p  When I get back I'll write up a proper post here.[/I]

If all goes as I hope, there will be a class with Saotome Sensei on the way up, visits with a few friends, and an annular solar eclipse on the way back. The scenery should be amazing. I'm expecting the workshop itself to be an intense one, with five brilliant instructors over three long days. A dozen people are going from our dojo! There is something that feels important about this.

As for what you'll find here, there may be stories, photos, poems, rants, links to maps and places of interest, videos, a few surprises, and probably a lot of stream-of-consciousness writing about my experiences, both on and off the mat. I don't promise it will be good, or even interesting, but it will be honest.

Things may get a little bumpy. There will be more expression, from the heart and the gut, and less polishing and explanation. Expect typos and grammar wrecks. We might encounter detours, or get lost. (Although I hope this time I won't lock my keys in my car, for 3 hours, at a hot gas station in the middle of tall rows of corn, with baaa-ing goats nibbling at the drying weeds around the propane tank.)

It will be an adventure.]]></body>
	<date>05-13-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4503">
	<title><![CDATA[Three Years]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Today, May 5, 2012, it's three years since I first stepped onto the mat.

I had a post half written, about dates and seminars and exams, but wasn't feeling it. Those things aren't important. Instead, it's the tiny things that have made this year exquisite. Warm smiles, sharp corrections, chats over meals, and everyone growing and becoming more confident together - these are the things that continually open my mind and touch my heart. Little "aha!" moments, meditating on big questions, feeling and finding connection, and remembering how to let go and play. Laughter, joy, and vigorous jiyuwazas, jumping up to take ukemi as often as I can, and sinking into seiza to bow out at the end of class, breathless and elated.

How fortunate I am, to have this opportunity and ability to train, this insightful and inspiring teacher, and this loving and compassionate community, in our dojo and in the world! I am grateful beyond words.]]></body>
	<date>05-05-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4501">
	<title><![CDATA[A very busy past few months. Too busy.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It's pretty amazing how circumstances can get overwhelming sometimes. Take a 95% busy schedule, add 10%, and like a road at more than its capacity, things come to a grinding halt. Long hours working, weather that for months seemed hell-bent on raining during daylight hours every weekend, even a few fun events and projects... These things and others conspired to put me into to-do list overload, and off-the-chart stress for much of the beginning of the year.

I tried applying my limited skills in randori - dealing with multiple attackers - but it felt like doing randori in the middle of the freeway. I was at the end of all my ropes, and needed to make a change. I renegotiated some deadlines, completed a few projects, dropped some commitments, and thankfully the weather has been cooperating.  All the long overdue chores I'd been putting on the back burner, waiting for "when I'd have some time" are finally getting done. I got my oil changed, got new tires, and registered my car. I gave the donkeys their Spring baths, and got their former farrier out to correct a botched trim that left Clementine lame for weeks. I finally followed up with my PT about a hip injury from months ago, and got the all-clear on that. And I've done just enough yardwork that you can now see the California natives I planted in the Fall; they've been thriving on all the rain we've gotten. There's still plenty left to do, but the critical things are under control now.

As for Aikido, I have been training as usual, about 2 hours, 5 days a week. It is what keeps me grounded, happy, and healthy. I am so grateful to have a teacher and a community of friends who provide inspiration, support, and perspective. I've had some very rough days recently, but none so bad they could not be improved by the vigorous physical activity, connection, and joy of training.

About a month ago Patrick Cassidy Sensei came to our dojo. He and Dave Goldberg Sensei co-lead a 3-day Evolutionary Aikido seminar. That deserves several posts of its own. For the moment I'll just say that it was an extraordinary experience. I have a couple-thousand photos to go through, and a lot of thinking (or maybe meditating) to do about that weekend. Intense, and brilliant.

We had another round of exams at the dojo two weeks ago, so preparing for that with the test candidates was great fun.

This Sunday Sensei is offering a kumi-jo workshop for dojo members 4th-kyu and up. Wouldn't miss it. I'm not alone in that - the sign-up sheet is getting quite long!

The biggest thing (big, big, big!), coming up in only two weeks, is a 3-day retreat near Sebastopol, CA. The subject is "O Sensei Revisited" and it will be lead by Robert Nadeau Shihan and a group of senior CAA Division 3 instructors, including Goldberg Sensei. There are 12-14 of us going! I'll be driving up, making an awesome road trip of it, and I've had some very (very!) nice surprises for things to see and do along the way. I'm really excited about the whole adventure - the retreat itself, and the getting there and back.

More on that soon. Right now, sleep is a priority.]]></body>
	<date>05-02-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4471">
	<title><![CDATA[Doors]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This is an image that came to me in my work during the Evolutionary Aikido seminar this weekend with Patrick Cassidy Sensei and Dave Goldberg Sensei. If I could draw or paint, and had the time, this post would be a hand-drawn, sketchy animation. Maybe just a sequence of still drawings, one dissolving into the next. Since that would take me months, and the results would be poor at best, I'll give you the storyboard in words instead.

Scene: We are inside a big, closed room. We see a person in the room. There are some things in the room - a table, a chair, a bookcase, a phone, a television, dishes, a bed... Simple things for living.

Action: Our person is sitting, studying, working, exercising, eating. Living life, in their room.

Scene: The things, or the person's orientation in the room, make it impossible for them to see that there are doors, but we can see the doors. Or maybe there a faint outlines - maybe a lot of them - but our person doesn't notice them. Doors to other rooms? Doors to outside? Doors to who-knows-where... Unseen, unnoticed, unopened doors. 
Action: Our person continues living in the room. We see signs of aging.
Every so often someone outside the room opens a door a little, letting in a stream of of brilliant, warm light. We can see color and space through the open door. We hear something, maybe birds or voices.

Maybe our person notices, maybe they don't. Maybe they make a huge effort at sliding the bookcase to cover the open door, and go back to sitting, arms crossed, their back to the door.

Again someone outside comes along, this time flinging a door open wide, revealing a colorful, expansive scene, with nature, people dancing, lying on the grass. We hear indistinct happy conversation, and music.

Our person goes to the door. Looks out, looks back, and looks out again. Maybe some people outside beckon. The colors are beautiful. There's so much space. There's singing in the distance.

Our person steps cautiously out of their room. They nearly trip over a flower, and stoop to see what it is.

Scene: We pull back to see more of this space.

Action: Our person takes in their new surroundings, picks up energy, tries a little dance. They see a closed door near the open one they just came through, go to it, and open it a crack.

Through the crack we see two people sitting in their black and white room, watching a television. They turn, looking startled, to see the open door.

Our person trots off toward a group of others, tentatively at first, then remembering how to move freely.

Scene: The view pulls back slowly and continuously to reveal a long wall, with many more closed doors, and some open ones.

Action: A few people are peeking through their cracked doors. A few doors have been carefully boarded shut. Some people are standing and looking out through wide open doors, wondering if they should step through. Some are living in their rooms, with open doors, ignoring the doors. Perhaps some are cowering under their covers.

Others are out in the much larger, open, brilliantly colorful world, dancing, flying, exploring, playing, together. There is laughter and music and birds.

Scene: We pull back to show that the wall is endless, and that there are more endless walls, with doors. Pull back to show the whole planet, spinning in space.]]></body>
	<date>04-02-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4460">
	<title><![CDATA[What if you could...?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Every few months Sensei offers “Aikido In Focus” workshops. These are a series of “concise topical training clinics for accelerating both your Aikido and personal development.” They are usually about 2 hours long, on a Sunday morning. I’ve participated in every one since I started training, and they’ve been a huge contribution to my growth.

I have enjoyed them all, and have gotten immediate, useful feedback that has helped me improve my technique, or made me more aware of some aspect of Aikido I can be working with in daily training. But that’s not why I go, and that’s the least of the benefit.

Each one creates another small crack that lets new light in. It always takes me a while to figure out what that new light is revealing, but I know right away that it’s there. This time I’ve been sitting with it for almost a year, and I’m only just starting to make out the forms and patterns I’m seeing.

Back in May of last year (wow… has it really been that long?), in one of these workshops, we danced with the energy, exploring the elements in our Aikido, joining with the rhythm of the music. Getting out of our minds and letting emotion and body find expression through this different way of accessing what we already knew.

But the thing that mattered, the thing that stuck with me, and the thing that’s been gnawing at me since that day, was one split second at the very beginning. Sensei was introducing us to what the workshop would involve, and what we were there to explore.

I don’t remember the exact way he put it… If it was meant to really grab our attention, it was not overtly presented as such. Just an inconspicuous sentence among a few introductory thoughts, before we really got started.

“What if you could freely express who you really are?”

Something in that question, that instant, touched me deeply. I was surprised to find that for a moment I was blinking back tears. What if I could express who I really am? Really.

I didn’t know that I wasn’t. Haven’t I been having fun? Enjoying my training, doing interesting work, spending time with friends, and starting creative new gardening projects? But there was that feeling, the flicker of pain, the tightening of the throat, the knot in the gut. Just a flash. I noticed it, and set it aside to examine later.

The rest of the workshop was a blast. Joyful, expressive, playful. I had a great time, and discovered new ways to flow and move with and around conflict. But I kept thinking back on that flash of sadness. What was that about? Where had it come from. What was it trying to tell me?

For a long time after the workshop, I noticed something, but it was elusive. Malaise? Discontent? I found myself really struggling to get engaged with projects. Dreading sitting still. Resenting the dullness of repetitive tasks. Impatient. Wanting to write, feeling the urge to write, but with no thoughts coming up. Nothing there. Or more likely something there, but something well-hidden. Something suppressed. Something pushed away.

The workshop was titled “Aikido, Expressed” and was about “Breaking limiting patterns, and cultivating authenticity in your expression of Aikido.” For me it set me in motion in the direction of breaking limiting patterns and cultivating authenticity in my life. I’m not sure where it might take me, but I’m enjoying exploring the trail.]]></body>
	<date>03-16-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4459">
	<title><![CDATA[Seminar with Dan Messisco Sensei]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Here's a short video by Mark De Souza (who I finally got to meet here!) that's a very representative bit of the 3-day seminar with Dan Messisco Sensei at Two Rivers Budo in Sacramento, California. 

[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbVhoi-Y5Ts&hd=1"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cbVhoi-Y5Ts&hd=1[/URL]

When I signed up, I had no idea who Messisco Sensei was, or what his seminar might be like. I really enjoyed it, especially because the pace was very slow. By that I mean there was a lot of vigorous training, but plenty of time to absorb the information presented. Some seminars are very interesting, but there's so much thrown at you that it's hard to retain any of it. Here I felt I actually was able to experience, and experiment with, what we were working on, not just get a quick look and move on. I'll definitely be looking for more opportunities to train with Dan Messisco Sensei.

This was the first seminar held at Geoff Yudien and Adam Fong's new dojo. Three of us from Aikido of San Diego drove up, picking up a fourth friend along the way. We had a great time, start to finish. A classic road trip, with great truck stop food, long conversations, and amazing scenery. The whole Central Valley was in bloom (almonds, mostly). If you are planning to visit this dojo we would all highly recommend the Residence Inn, Cal Expo as a place to stay. They have big suites that are perfect for 3-5 people. Also, be sure to eat at Thai Chef's House, near the dojo, and the Mongolian BBQ across from the Inn.

I'll be going back to Two Rivers Budo when George Ledyard Sensei visits in September. Already looking forward to it.]]></body>
	<date>03-16-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4457">
	<title><![CDATA[Porch Sitting]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Today we sit on Sensei's deck,
the ocean glinting twenty miles away.

Weathered bamboo clatters softly overhead
as we settle in to sit, scattered lightly
like leaves blown into cool shady corners,
or lizards, basking on the warm wood in the sun.

I choose the shade.

Forty minutes? I'm used to just fifteen.
I see the sea, feel the air, 
hear the birds, and close my eyes
as Sensei sounds a small, clear chime.

A dozen little birds chatter down the hill,
a faraway crow gives three short caws,
and I wonder what might come up in forty minutes
that's managed to keep itself hidden from fifteen.

A small plane hums overhead, and I think of flying. 
When I flew I got bit, hard. I loved flying.
I had a great teacher, and a community of friends.
I was never going to stop flying.
And then I stopped flying.

I worry, briefly, about that rhythm to things.
Flying, engineering, music...
Is it just that, the rhythm of things?
They come, stay for a time, and go?
They go with good reason, but they go.

A neighbor's horse gives a sharp snort.
Right. And horses too.

What about Aikido? 
The thought of someday not training anymore,
not wanting to train, not missing it...
It's unimaginable, gut-wrenching.
But could it go, too, in time?

The flying, engineering, music, and horses,
those were things I was trying to become,
was trying to get good at, would be someday.
They were places I did not belong,
and was struggling to get to.
When I saw this about each one, I let it go.

As I begin to realize this profound difference
the gut unsnarls and breathing relaxes.

Aikido from the first has felt like home.
There's no trying, no struggle, no someday.
It's who I already am. 
I won't let that go. How could I?

Instead I let the worry go. 
It's silly, like worrying that I might 
somehow float off the surface of the earth.
The wind takes the worry like a kite with a broken string,
and in a moment I no longer see it in the sky.

My attention is drawn to the deck, to sitting.
I wonder how long it's been, and how much longer.
"Don't be looking for the end, keep going deeper."
I remember Kayla Feder Sensei saying once,

I return to breathing, 
noticing the thoughts that come,
and letting the breeze carry each one off.

Sensei sounds his small, clear chime again,
and I complete a last full breath.
When I open my eyes I'm mildly surprised
that everyone is further away than they felt.
But I'm very happy to see them again.]]></body>
	<date>03-12-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4441">
	<title><![CDATA[An Unlimited Supply]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Sensei asked, at the beginning of one of our meditation sittings, a question for us to consider: "What if you had an unlimited supply of something everyone on earth wanted?"

Deep breath in, and out. Letting the eyes close.

[I]*ding*[/I]

The obvious answer is our love. But does everyone really want love? My love? Do I want theirs? What if everyone wants everyone else's love? Why not give it to them? Why do we hold back? What would we lose? How would the world be if we all loved each other without reservation? Is there a downside to that?

What if it were our approval? Would it be better to give it to just anyone, freely? Does that really serve them? Or does that make it meaningless? If you are accepting and reassuring for no reason, that's kind of hollow.

But loving people doesn't make love meaningless. 

What if were a thing, like gold? Then the scarcity is exactly what makes it valuable. If you have a lot of it, and just dump it one everyone, then its value is lost. So by your intent to be generous you've not given anyone anything of real value. 

If you dole it out a little at a time, or to just a few people, it keeps it value. But are you doing that so the people who have it will appreciate it? Or so they will be beholden to you? Is it a selfish ego thing to hold back? Or is it wise stewardship of a resource? I suppose it's in how you think about it.

Deep breath in, and out, noticing the expansion in the ribs, and wooshing of air in the nostrils. In, and out.

It must be love...

Breathing in. Breathing out.

[I]*ding* [/I]]]></body>
	<date>02-25-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4436">
	<title><![CDATA[O Sensei Raised Horses!!!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I have wondered about this, and tried to find any information on whether O Sensei may have kept horses, or worked with them. I thought maybe... I knew he was a farmer, but he could have farmed by hand, or with oxen. I had not found any mention of horses, until just now, in The Art of Peace, by Morihei Ueshiba & John Stevens. From Part One - Morihei Ueshiba, Prophet of the Art of Peace:

[INDENT]"Looking for new worlds to conquer, in 1912 Morihei led a group of settlers from Tanabe to the wilds of Hokkaikdo, Japan's northernmost, largely undeveloped island. The group settled in remote Shirataki, and started to build a village from scratch. Morihei worked tirelessly to make the project a success. He put up buildings; cleared the land for the cultivation of potatoes, peppermint, and sesame; engaged in prudent logging of the great forests; [B]raised horses;[/B] and eventually served as a local councilman. (Despite Morihei's great efforts, the settlement never really succeeded. Crops failed the first few years, and there was a disastrous fire in 1916 that destroyed 80 percent of the village, including Morihei's first home. Morihei did learn how to tame wild animals, though, becoming pals with several big Hokkaido bears.)"[/INDENT]

O Sensei raised horses!!!

If anyone has more information, details, stories, references, anything, I'd love to know about it. Did he ride? Did he train them? Use them as draft animals? Did he raise them for sale? For meat? I'd love to add notes here with any links, book recommendations, etc. If you have anything to share.

And bears? I'd love to hear anything about that, too. 

I have always seen animals as a great common thread across time and borders. When I see a worn black and white photo of someone many decades ago, in a very foreign land, with a cat in the doorway, I know their life must have been quite different from mine, now, but I also know their cat was a cat like any cat I might know. I'm sure it meowed around their feet while they cooked, scratched at the door to be let in, and left dead "gifts" on the doormat. I know a little about their life, and know they can't have been so very different from me, really.

I've always wondered if O Sensei had a cat, too. I can see him after a long day regaling uchi deshi with stories of Shinto gods, and overseeing dojo activities, sneaking a purring kitty a bit of meat from his dinner. It makes him seem so human, and so timeless.]]></body>
	<date>02-20-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4432">
	<title><![CDATA[Life in the Dream World]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A couple of years ago, after my first few months in Aikido, I had [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/289861539/aikido-dream"]a vivid dream, which I posted about then[/URL]. When I woke up I could see and feel it in great detail, and I still can. It wasn't until later that day I realized it was about Aikido.

In the dream I suddenly found myself in a totally unfamiliar, incomprehensible new world. A simple, quiet, calm place, where the people seemed to share a sense of purpose and belonging. Sensei was an old, wise woman, a compassionate leader, trusted by the people. I knew there was no going back, that this was to be my new life. I was upset, but I knew I was safe. I knew the leader and the people could be trusted. 

And that's exactly how it's been.

On a recent Thursday evening, just two days before a friend's exam for 4th kyu, I limped into the dojo hoping I could at least sit for the 15 minutes of meditation before class. I had gotten out of a chair the wrong way, and badly screwed up something in my right hip. I'd been kept up by the pain most of the previous night, and had only gotten around the house that day by using a jo as a walking stick. My dear husband, Michael, drove me to the dojo, because he knows how I am. He insisted that I go, if only to watch. Bless his heart.

I had been training with my friend for her exam. When I got to the dojo I told Sensei that I wouldn't be able to take ukemi for her - he'd need to find someone else. In the past, never half as bad as this time, it had taken weeks for my hip to get better, and her exam was to be on Saturday morning. Sensei was unfazed. "In my world it's normal to be taking ukemi 2 days after you can't walk."

Really? Like a little kid hearing a fantastic story, I wanted to believe in it. I wanted to live in that magical world.

Let's just say I was skeptical. Hopeful, but skeptical.

Someday I will stop being surprised at this, or maybe, stubbornly, I will continue to be surprised every time: Sensei was right. He guided me through some stretches, and I was actually able to participate in both classes that night. By Friday night's class I was better still. By Saturday morning I had to think hard to remember which hip it had been. There were some big ups and downs in the next couple of weeks, and ultimately it got better. But that Saturday I was able to take ukemi for my friend's exam, no problem. More significantly, I had learned I could be perfectly fine in a much shorter time than I'd ever thought possible.

"In my world it's normal to be taking ukemi 2 days after you can't walk."

That's a pretty awesome world. That's the world I saw in my dream. It's real.

It's a world where we are pushed to go beyond our perceived limits, to explore outside of the arbitrary boundaries we have declared to be our reality. In this world teachers and friends don't buy into our stories and whining. Instead they lift us up and help us see further, and then kick our butts to get us into action. Sometimes they help us to understand that patience and gentleness with ourselves is part of the process, too. And we try to do the same for them.

In this world I've never encountered the sympathetic-sounding, but ultimately defeating excuses and dismissals I heard so often in my past: Don't expect too much of yourself; Don't get your hopes up; Not everyone can be good at this; Maybe when you are older; Maybe if you'd started when you were younger; Old habits are hard to break; It's rough out there, be careful; You can always do it just for fun; Don't work so hard, that's good enough; Besides, it's not like you'll actually need to know it, you'll never do anything with it anyway.

This is a world where it's OK to pursue mastery. It's OK to expect that continued growth and development are available to anyone who applies themselves. It's OK to be a serious student. It's OK to ask for support, and to give it, so we all grow together. It's OK for the impossible to be quite possible. It's OK to make big changes. It's OK to heal. And it's OK to do it right now.

The world I saw in my dream was a simple, quiet, calm place, where the people seemed to share a sense of purpose and belonging, and I knew the leader and the people could be trusted. It's a real place. I like it here.]]></body>
	<date>02-17-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4431">
	<title><![CDATA[Stop Resisting.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[It's funny how we have to keep learning the same thing over, and over, and over, and over again. An old lesson looks unfamiliar in a new situation. Principles that are old friends in one context seem strange when seen in a different light.

The lesson? Stop resisting. Stop denying. Stop wishing. Notice. Feel. Become aware of the actual direction of the energy. Not your story about it. Not how it was supposed to be. Not how you meant to have it work out.

Notice what's [I]actually [/I]happening. Blend with [I]that[/I]. Align with [I]that[/I]. Move into [I]that[/I]. Use [I]that[/I]. Act from [I]that[/I]. 

Being in harmony with the reality of the circumstances is the only place you have any power. You can't act from resistance, denial, and wishing. Effective action is only possible from awareness and acceptance. Not resignation, acceptance.

This is what's so. Stop dragging your feet, and [I]move[/I].

I think I get it… Again.]]></body>
	<date>02-14-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4429">
	<title><![CDATA[Master Pat, A True Force of Nature]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This is a guest post, by Michael Hancock, one our instructors at [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/"]Aikido of San Diego[/URL]. Originally from England, he teaches, and leads meditations, with a lovely Brit-dialect, respect for tradition, thoughtful insight, and a gentle sense of humor. Michael is an avid golfer, pilot and horseman, and when living in England was an accomplished polo player, having once been Chairman of the oldest club in the world, Silver Leys. He is an entrepreneur whose focus is on his family and community. Among other things, Michael is active in promoting and advising the [URL="http://rockonsteve.org/"]Wampler Foundation[/URL], providing camp and outdoor education programs for kids with physical disabilities. Enjoy.
 
----- 
[B]Master Pat - A True Force of Nature[/B]
[I]By Michael Hancock[/I]
[I]Written Early 2011[/I]
 
Because my Google search gave me little since he received an honor from the Japanese Ambassador on behalf of the Emperor in London several years back, I wrongly assumed he had since passed on. I'm back in England, and last night, by chance or providence, I'm nearby the dojo of ‘Master Pat' Stratford, my first mentor. 
 
It was 7.25 pm for the 7.30 start and the door was still locked. He looked old to me 25 years ago, but I was still surprised to see a pensioner struggling to climb out of someone's car and stagger across on crutches at 7.29 on the dot. Yes, same face and instantly recognizable except for a few more good vintages behind him. For a fleeting moment I wondered if this was a good idea, but I reintroduced myself anyway and he cheerfully engaged. We chatted about old times and old members for a short while. 
 
We sat for a few minutes to one side. I declined his offer of tea that I'm sure had an aromatic whiff of medicated navy rum as he drew on his pipe. He informed me that there are now eight aikido clubs in the Coventry area alone, but added that they are losing their way. He believes they are generically too mindful of ego and money. 
 
A couple of the old boys are still around, reminding me of the clichéd movies of boxers or ball players of a bygone age, still with the enthusiasm of teenagers and a wickedly dry wit that bantered between them. The warmth of camaraderie made me feel right at home again.
 
He shared with me his thoughts on Japan and said there is a lot of "crap Aikido" because the culture has changed so much as a result of the Americanization of the country after the war, and that most are now chasing the dollar and missing the fundamentals. I sensed an air of nostalgia or sadness when he added that no one turns up here anymore. Master Pat has an endearingly maverick character that is so likeable. He's the real deal. You cannot question his dedication, yet I think he inevitably divides opinion. 
 
Master Pat was sincerely and genuinely, "…worried for the future of pure Aikido, as there isn't another martial art that comes close to the practice of Zen and Budo. This is now just a club for black belts only, and anyone who wants to study Aikido, I mean really study." 
 
In fact, he is worried for the state of the world in general and was satisfied to be his age. He added that a couple of the other dojo owners still come back once a month or so and are very welcome. Years ago he would teach all over Europe, however, he still leads monthly Aikido events, albeit these days hosting at his home dojo as traveling is difficult.
 
Master Pat founded the Aikido Union of England in 1958 with the support of his teacher and close friend, Shigeho Tanaka Sensei. He explained how he has dedicated his life to the study since his time in Japan through the 1950's and 1960's. "Aikido was around long before the Samurai." He paused, looked me intently in the eye, "I am in my mid 80's and if it wasn't for Budo, I would have been dead thirty years ago. I am in pain 24/7, but never let it beat you, take charge of thought and you will never be depressed or stressed." 
 
I declined his invitation to train and told him I'm sporting an injury. He ordered me through his wry smile, "Don't be a soft nancy boy and get on the bloody mat, you've been in bloody America too long!" Ah yes, I remember him clearly now, and started to stretch. Six turned up last night and I made the seventh. 
 
After a brief warm-up, he stepped onto the mat a different person and I could not believe what I saw. He was incredible, so amazing. Master Pat transcended time and his presence was dominating. He focused on the essence of ‘feeling', in understanding the body. He ‘touched' my chest and I instinctively slapped out on the mat with a pounding in my lungs. Then he came around each of us and we dissected it. He was demonstrating the force of nature and allowing its power, "…without the laying on of hands, which will create resistance." 
 
I am somewhat ashamed for playing my part in not returning for 25 years, and to say that in my opinion, he is an under-valued magician, a somewhat forgotten Master that by all that is right, he deserves to have a huge entourage of followers surrounding him and absorbing this beautiful art while they can, not a mere half dozen. Inevitably, he won't be here for long. 
 
I learnt something about myself last night and will consciously embody some of his thoughts and his portrayal of ‘feel' in my own personal training hereon. In fact, I wish I could get back here again soon, but living six thousand miles away in San Diego creates its own difficulties. 
 
He declared while teaching something that still lifts and resonates with me. "There is nothing more perfect than nature. It has no muscles and no physicality. We must copy it. Everything else is bollocks!"
 
Thank you, Master Pat, you are one of a kind and still remain an inspiration to me.
 
[IMG]http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7198/6866194411_c97f0d4f46.jpg[/IMG]
[I]Master Pat Stratford, 8th Dan & Michael Hancock[/I] 
-----
 
According to the [URL="http://aikidounionengland.co.uk/news.php"]News page at AikidoUnionEngland.co.uk[/URL]:
 
On 26th May 2009 "Master Pat Stratford was awarded [by the Japanese Government] the honour of the 'Order of the Rising Sun' Gold & Silver Rays upon him in a special ceremony at the Japanese Ambassadors Residence, Kensington Palace Gardens, London. Master Stratford is the only 'Budo Sensei' outside of Japan to receive such a high level of the 'Order of the Rising Sun'."
 
On 6th November, 2011 "Master Pat Stratford [8th Dan], Honorary President and Chief Technical Advisor of the Aikido Union England, sadly announced that he would be retiring from active teaching on the tatami due to on-going knee problems and strict medical advice. He maintains his weekly presence at the dojo to give Technical Advice to the Instructors and will continue to attend each Aikido Course at Coventry as long as he is able to do so. …"]]></body>
	<date>02-13-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4409">
	<title><![CDATA[My Aikido Teachers]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This is sort of a sister post to [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/1598778686/my-aikido-timeline"]My Aikido Timeline[/URL]. Here I'll try to keep track of all the teachers I've had the privilege of training under. They are listed starting at the beginning, with most recent additions at the bottom, in order by the first time I trained with each. I will be adding to this post over time. Putting this list together just reminds me of how extraordinarily fortunate I am to have had this breadth of experience.

This is the initial version of this post. I will be keeping it up to date, more or less, here: [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/16810732267/my-aikido-teachers"]www.grabmywrist.com > my-aikido-teachers[/URL]

[B]Dave Goldberg Sensei[/B]
Chief Instructor, Aikido of San Diego
May 5, 2009 - My first day of Aikido training
To Present - Hundreds of training days, many workshops, and seminars.

[B]Mike Coit[/B]
Instructor, Aikido of San Diego
May 9, 2009 - My second day of training, and many classes since.

[B]Karen Kustejo[/B]
Instructor, Aikido of San Diego
May, 2009 to Present - Many classes.  

[B]Jay Palm[/B]
Instructor, Aikido of San Diego
May, 2009 to Present - Many classes. 

[B]Megan Palm[/B]
Instructor, Aikido of San Diego
May, 2009 to Present - Many classes.    

[B]Andy[/B]
Instructor, Aikido of San Diego
May - December 2009 - Various classes (mostly weapons).  

[B]Cyril Poissonnet[/B]
Instructor, Aikido of San Diego
May, 2009 to Present - Many classes.   

[B]Jason Lim[/B]
Instructor, Aikido of San Diego
May, 2009 to Present - Many classes (mostly weapons).  

[B]Michael Hancock[/B]
Instructor, Aikido of San Diego
May, 2009 to Present - Many classes.   

[B]Robert Nadeau Shihan[/B]
July, 2009 - Seminar at Aikido of San Diego
April, 2010 - Seminar at Aikido of San Diego
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA
July, 2011 - Seminar, Aikido of San Diego

[B]Kayla Feder Sensei[/B]
September, 2009 - Fall Retreat, Aikido of San Diego

[B]Hiroshi Ikeda Shihan[/B]
January, 2010 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego
January, 2011 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA
January, 2012 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego

[B]Frank Doran Shihan[/B]
January, 2010 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego
January, 2011 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA
January, 2012 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego

[B]Christian Tissier Shihan[/B] 
January, 2010 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego
January, 2011 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego
January, 2012 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego

[B]Wilko Vriesman Sensei[/B]
January, 2010 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego

[B]Francis Takahashi Shihan[/B]
January, 2010 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego

[B]Morihiko Murashige Shihan[/B]
January, 2010 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego

[B]Mary Heiny Sensei[/B]
September, 2010 - Seminar, Aikido of San Diego
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA
October, 2011 - Seminar, Aikido of San Diego 

[B]Lloyd McClellan, Shodan[/B]
January 2011 - Teaching his first class, Aikido of San Diego

[B]Patrick Cassidy Sensei[/B]
2010 - Seminar, Aikido of San Diego
February, 2011 - Gasshuku, Aikido of San Diego

[B]Jeff Sodeman Sensei[/B]
Spring/Summer, 2011 - Two ukemi seminars, Jiai Aikido, San Diego
January, 2012 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego

[B]Michael Friedl Sensei[/B]
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA

[B]Alan Best Sensei[/B]
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA

[B]Frank Blocksberg Sensei[/B]
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA

[B]Greg O'Connor Sensei[/B]
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA
January, 2012 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego

[B]Denise Barry Sensei[/B] 
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA

[B]Michele Simone Sensei[/B]
June, 2011 - CAA Aiki Retreat, Atherton, CA

[B]Chetan Prakash Sensei[/B]
Summer, 2011 - Jo Seminar, Redlands Aikikai 

[B]Mitsugu Saotome Shihan[/B]
September, 2011 - Seminar, Redlands Aikikai

[B]Kevin Choate Sensei[/B]
Fall, 2011 (?) - Saotome Seminar, Redlands Aikikai 

[B]Troy Farrow Sensei[/B]
January, 2012 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego

[B]George Ledyard Sensei[/B]
January, 2012 - Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, San Diego]]></body>
	<date>01-31-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4403">
	<title><![CDATA[My 2nd Kyu Exam (video)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I suppose it's a good sign that I'm too busy training to do much posting. :p   Catching up a little, from last weekend, heres the video of my 2nd kyu exam. I couldn't do suwariwaza (goshdarnit!) because my leg kept going into spasms. Other than that, I had fun, and discovered a hundred more things to work on next. 

[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CicJQO_q0UY&hd=1"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CicJQO_q0UY&hd=1[/URL]

My 2nd kyu Aikido exam, on 21 January, 2012. Many thanks to my mentor and uke, Cyril Poissonnet, 3rd Dan, whose teaching, coaching, and encouragement have been an important and happy part of my Aikido training from the beginning, and to Dave Goldberg Sensei, and all the teachers and students at Aikido of San Diego.

It's been a steady stream of "aha" moments since my exam.  More to come on that soon.]]></body>
	<date>01-26-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4399">
	<title><![CDATA[The Bridge Seminar 2012, Days 2-5]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, fine. I can't train 6 hours a day and keep up with blogging at the same time. So, here's a bit of catching up.

The seminar was a wonderful experience, with the ouchy exception of some persistent leg muscle spasms that started a couple of weeks ago. I got through most of it, and had a good deal of fun, but was also pretty limited in what I could do, and distracted, which was unfortunate.  

There were 6 guest instructors in addition to the main 3. Here's a quick summary of a few of the classes, to the best of my recollection.

Troy Farrow Sensei taught on Friday morning. We worked on a variety of swirly techniques from gyakute-dori (cross-hand grab), including one I do all the time in jiyuwaza, but can recall ever seeing anyone teach it. It was a fun, high-energy class, and a great way to get going in the morning.

Friday evening's class was led by Greg O'Conner Sensei, who I had the pleasure of training with at the Aiki Retreat last summer, too. His focus was on movements coming from sword technique, with a lot of cutting energy.

On Friday night I hustled out the door and back to my home dojo, [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/"]Aikido of San Diego[/URL], because Goldberg Sensei would be teaching the 90-minute class. I miss those lately, because he usually teaches the 90-minute class on Wednesdays (my date night). These longer classes are often more seminar-like in temperament, really going into depth on some aspect of Aikido as a practice, as opposed to techniques. It was a truly inspired class, and I'm very glad I was able to make it

Jeff Sodeman Sensei taught a class on injury prevention and safe ukemi on Saturday morning. It was a great one-hour reminder of the things we'd learned in one of his longer workshops last year. I especially liked one warm-up exercise that involved stepping out in 8 directions (to the front, to the front-side, to the side, etc. all the way around), at first a little, then deeper, and finally in lunges. Great for loosening up, and for building strength and coordination. And you can do it any time (while you wait for the coffee to brew, for instance).

I finally got to train with George Ledyard Sensei on Saturday evening, which was awesome. His way of communicating and demonstrating really clicks with me. I enjoyed his class, and got a lot out of it. We worked on a Daito Ryu method of learning to send a wave of energy over our partners, from our hara (center), getting inside the attack. It was interesting to play with that same energy later in the seminar, especially in Ikeda Sensei's class.

On Sunday, Lia Suzuki Sensei taught the morning class, but I arrive to late to join in (I really need to warm up first). I'm sorry I missed that one; I'd been looking forward to training with her. Sunday evening's class was taught by Murashige Sensei. By that time my legs and brain were too tired to participate, so I watched that one from the loft.

On Monday morning I only managed about the first 20 minutes. When muscle spasms get to the point where you cannot get yourself out of the way of Tissier Sensei, who has come to demonstrate something with your partner, it's time to get off the mat. So I watched again, and took some photos from the loft.

That night I was doing much better (seems that shikko is the killer, for the moment), and was able to participate in both classes at my dojo. Like many vacations, it was great fun to get out, to see and learn new things, but wonderful to come home, too.

All in all a tremendous experience, and I'm looking forward to next year!]]></body>
	<date>01-18-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4394">
	<title><![CDATA[The Bridge Seminar 2012, Day 1]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[For the third year running, I am participating in the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar in San Diego, with Doran Sensei, Ikeda Sensei, Tissier Sensei, and 6 guest instructors. ([URL="http://sandiego.aikidobridge.com"]sandiego.aikidobridge.com[/URL]) 

Today, Thursday, was the first of five days, and just ran from 6-8 p.m., but I'm exhausted, so this is going to be quick. :-) I'm taking vacation time (Thursday-Monday) for the seminar, so I had the whole day free. Naturally I filled it with all kinds of fun. Here's how it went:

[INDENT][LIST]
[*]Set the alarm for oh-dark-hundred. 
[*]Hit snooze about 6 times.
[*]Jump out of bed, soak food for the donkeys, eat.
[*]Feed donks.
[*]Shower, grab my stuff, and head to my home dojo (Aikido of San Diego).
[*]Participate in a 90-minute conference call from the dojo (was there alone), so that I could be there on time to train with Jean, who has her 5th kyu exam coming up next week.
[*]Train with Jean for an hour.
[*]Participate in the the first session of our new 8-week Low Impact class, which was really a nice experience.
[*]Hang around and chat after class.
[*]Mozy on home. Eat a banana and raw nuts on the way.
[*]Have a 90-minute massage, in an attempt to un-spasm my left calf and hamstrings, which seem hell-bent on preventing me from practicing suwariwaza.
[*]Have a hearty snack of nachos, grab a fresh gi, and run out the door.
[*]Forget my phone. Oh well.
[*]Get to the seminar with maybe 5 minutes to spare. Change, get on the mat, bow in.
[*]Have a fantastic time training. Get a few things easily, and totally miss a few others.
[*]Spot another friend every few minutes. Grab them to train with. Grab new people, too.
[*]Be glad the mat isn't as crowded yet as it's going to be tomorrow.
[*]Have a blast. Notice how time flies. Bow out, and circle up.
[*]Tell friends about a dozen times that I can't go to dinner, I need to go home, feed donkeys, and get some sleep. Get convinced to go out for dinner anyway. Just really quick.
[*]Spend two delightful hours catching up on news, discussing teaching methods, considering breakfalls, and wondering what the nearby diners must have thought of our "animated" conversations.
[*]Drop a friend off at their hotel.
[*]Head home, start laundry, feed donkeys, write this blog post.
[/LIST][/INDENT]
It's 12:45 a.m. Next up: Bed. Back on the mat at 8:15 a.m..]]></body>
	<date>01-13-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4393">
	<title><![CDATA[A Warp in the Fabric of Time]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Between work, the holidays, the server being down for a bit, and training even more than usual, I've gotten the two versions of my blog out of sync. As it's nearly midnight, on the first evening of a 5-day seminar, I will resist the urge to fix that right this minute,

When I do fix it (in a few days, I promise) I'll date those posts as of the dates I originally posted them on GrabMyWrist.com, so the two match up. That means 3-4 new posts will appear before this one. 

For the next few days, though, I'll be posting about the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, happening now (Jan. 12-16, 2012) in San Diego.]]></body>
	<date>01-13-2012</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4375">
	<title><![CDATA[Expectations, Failure, and Persistence]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A friend from work shared a link today to this article: [URL="http://blogs.hbr.org/cs/2011/11/the_trouble_with_bright_kids.html"]The Trouble with Bright Kids[/URL]. It describes some research on [I]the kind of positive, praising feedback [/I]we get when we succeed, and how that can influence our chances of success on future attempts. It’s also interesting to read how girls/women and boys/men are affected differently.

It really rings true for me. Or hits a nerve. Or maybe it’s both. I was one of the “high ability” kids (possessing an innate quality, as opposed to making a “strong effort”). I went through school accompanied by a litany of desperate admonishments by my teachers: “You’re one of the brightest students in the class. You should be getting better grades.” Mind you, no one in the school system did a thing to help me learn how to do that, they were just constantly disappointed in me.

It wasn’t until college, when I took Cognitive Psychology, and Psychology of Learning & Perception, and put the principles into practice, that I figured out how to succeed in school. Went from Cs and Ds, and academic probation, to all As, on the Dean’s List.

What I realized after reading the article, and thinking it over on the way to the dojo, was that the whole issue is skill-area dependent. Or at least it seems that way to me.

No one ever told me I was athletically gifted (in spite of being a very physical, coordinated kid). I was never on any teams, or competed at anything. And here I am being patient with myself, and sticking to it, learning Aikido in my late 40s, and loving it.

I hear about people who have gotten the message (I would assume) that they are physically talented - like people who have been very successful in team sports - who get discouraged quickly when they try Aikido. “I’m supposed to be athletic, but this is difficult for me, I must really be a failure.”

I would guess it would be the same kind of pattern with anything: music, art, math… If you start out thinking something should come easily to you, it could be easy to feel like a failure for doing merely ordinary work - or worse, finding it seriously challenging. But if you expect it might take real effort and time to achieve even basic proficiency, then it’s not a disappointment to have to make that effort, and it’s easier to let it take as long as it takes.

For teachers (academic or martial arts) it’s something to keep in mind when working with children. And it’s something to consider when judging our own “failures” harshly, and something to look at when we’ve given up on ourselves.]]></body>
	<date>12-06-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4364">
	<title><![CDATA[No 2012 Aiki Retreat. Now what?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, bummer. It’s official. The CAA “Menlo Retreat” is on sabbatical for 2012. The hope is it will return, in some new form, in 2013.

I’m disappointed to not be going next summer. I was really looking forward to seeing everyone, and doing nothing but training for a whole week. My dorm things are still/already packed from last summer.

I feel very fortunate to have had the opportunity to experience it at least that one time, to have met so many really wonderful people and participated in a warm, inclusive Aikido tradition.

I’m looking forward to 2013, and to helping create the event, in whatever way I can help. For now, we can all stay in touch and post photos and stories about past Retreats, share ideas and info about the future, and keep the soul of the event alive. If you are on Facebook, there’s the Aiki Summer Retreat Fans page you can “Like” to stay in touch. And check the fan website: [URL="www.aikiretreat.com"]www.aikiretreat.com [/URL]from time to time.

Please share the links with your friends from time to time, so they can be in the loop about the new 2013+ Retreat. Invite them to go, when details emerge about it. If 2013 is going to be the beginning of a new and successful event, we’re going to have to support it. 

Meanwhile, take the week of vacation time and the money you were planning on spending to go to the Retreat, and find another Aikido event to enjoy and support. Start with those at your own dojo, of course, and pick any other event(s) you think might be worthwhile. Go, and bring some friends along with you. It’s our participation (and volunteering to help out, where possible) that keeps them happening.

I know so far that I’m going to the San Diego Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar (my 3rd year) in San Diego in January. At the end of March I’ll be doing the Evolutionary Aikido Seminar at Aikido of San Diego, with Patrick Cassidy Sensei and Dave Goldberg Sensei. For a summer “away” seminar or retreat I have about 8-10 options so far, but haven’t made up my mind. In any case, I hope to see you on the mat soon, and at the Retreat in 2013!]]></body>
	<date>11-28-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4288">
	<title><![CDATA[Enjoy Reading This Post]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[B]"Breathe in, and enjoy breathing in." 
"Breathe out, and enjoy breathing out."[/B]

Patrick Cassidy Sensei, from Aikido Montreux, was here teaching a seminar recently. While instructing us in an ukemi exercise he told us to do something (basically a way of rolling around smoothly on the mat), and then he added the instruction to "enjoy doing" what we were doing.

Huh…

Until that moment I had seen enjoyment as a passive thing that might or might not happen, depending on the circumstances.  But he presented enjoyment as a deliberate, volitional act. "Enjoy doing this."

It's something I've been exploring since: Enjoy driving to work. Enjoy washing your hair.

I was reminded of it this morning, when Thich Nhat Hanh, a Buddhist monk, was leading a meditation at the Plum Village Online Monastery, and gave the instruction above, about breathing.

Enjoy.]]></body>
	<date>08-20-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4280">
	<title><![CDATA[Ten Things You Can Learn from Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[LIST=1]
[*]How to be soft.
[*]How to be firm.
[*]How to move.
[*]How to be still.
[*]How to teach.
[*]How to learn.
[*]How to flow around obstacles.
[*]How to be the center around which things flow.
[*]How to fall.
[*]How to fly.
[/LIST]]]></body>
	<date>08-12-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4279">
	<title><![CDATA[Ten Ways to Help Out at the Dojo]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[As a member of the dojo community we often want to make a contribution in some way. As a beginner there's often precious little we can do. We can't teach. We often don't know enough to jump in and take on dojo projects. But there are little ways we can help out. Keeping the dojo nice is one way any of us can do a little something.

Sometimes we don't notice the little details because we are looking at them all the time. And sometimes we just don't know what do. Here are some ideas. They will of course vary between dojo. Check with your dojo cho, sensei, or sempai before taking on anything too risky (like painting the walls a new color!). These things are probably pretty safe ways to pitch in:

[LIST=1]
[*]Pick a small area that doesn't get cleaned often, and take it on. Like a cabinet, or the strips along the walls that daily vacuuming doesn't get.
[*]If you have a green thumb, pull weeds, deadhead the old flowers, prune what needs pruning, or maybe bring a few plants to fill in gaps in the landscaping.
[*]Wipe down the door jambs or baseboards.
[*]Wash the windows. Or just one window. Clean the mirrors.
[*]Seek and destroy all the cobwebs! Escort the spiders outdoors and turn them loose.
[*]Take the rags and towels home, wash and fold them, and return them.
[*]Take the rugs outside (far away from any open doors) and beat the dust out of them.
[*]Clean out the refrigerator, or the microwave.
[*]If you have dressing room curtains, vacuum the dust off them.
[*]Tidy up a closet or supply cabinet.
[/LIST]
Taking care of your space is a small but meaningful way to support your dojo community. Make it a moving meditation, an act of gratitude, and enjoy.]]></body>
	<date>08-11-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4277">
	<title><![CDATA[Ten Tips for Your First Weapons Class]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I][Another in my series of "Ten Things" posts. I was going to call them "Ten Tips" but some are going to be "Ten Ways," "Ten Reasons," etc.][/I]

When I first started in Aikido weapons held no fascination for me at all. I never watched Samurai movies. I was not fascinated by Ninjas. OK, so yeah, I had a throwing star years ago, but that's about as far as it went. I wasn't planning on training with weapons at all, in fact. And then one time I had my days mixed up, and ended up in a weapons class by accident. And I loved it. Go figure.

Weapons training can help us understand open-hand techniques better, and helps develop better alignment and grounding. At our dojo we can start training in weapons right away. The classes are not reserved for advanced students. In fact one student recently did the weapons class as his very first-ever Aikido class, and he did fine.

Weapons work can seem mysterious There's more confusing etiquette and tradition to figure out, and even more new words to learn. Plus there are people swinging sticks at you! It can be a little intimidating. So if you're thinking about trying weapons classes, but are a little nervous about the whole thing, take heart, you will do just fine. Here are ten tips to help you jump in:

[LIST=1]
[*]In my experience at our dojo, just before class the instructor will announce which kind of weapon you will be using. The long straight ones are "jo" and the shorter curved ones are "bokken." The little ones in the basket on the floor are "tanto."
[*]Most dojo have some school weapons, that anyone may use. If you aren't sure which are OK, ask. At Aikido of San Diego these are marked "ASD" on the end, and the rest of the weapons belong to other students. At another local dojo there are separate racks for "public" and "private" weapons. In general, don't mess with other people's weapons. Another student will be happy to help you pick one out if you aren't sure what to do.
[*]What I have seen people do most often is a standing bow toward the shomen, holding the weapon horizontally in front of them, when they step onto the mat, and when they step off the mat after class. At your dojo people may do seated bows. Keep your eyes open and follow the example of the senior students.
[*]Be very aware of what's going on around you whenever anyone is training with weapons, and watch out behind you when you are training. It's easy to hit the wall when you raise a weapon to strike. Watch out behind and around other people when you are on the mat! We aren't used to people doing things behind themselves, or out to the side, but if you walk behind someone as they are coming around for a strike you could get clobbered.
[*]Notice where others place their weapons before and after bowing in (to their left or right), and how other students hand weapons back and forth with their partners (horizontally? vertically? with a bow?) and follow their example. I recently went to a weapons seminar where nearly everything was done the opposite of what I'm used to doing. When in Rome, and all that!
[*]Control your weapon during training. Don't throw or drop it by accident! It should probably go without saying, but… No horseplay. Or Ninja/Samurai play, either. Be respectful and safe. These are real weapons and they can cause real damage.
[*]It's OK to rest the end of your jo on the mat, but never use a jo or bokken to help you get up off the mat, and never lean on it for support. This puts permanent dents in the mat - especially with bokken that have a pointy end. Golfers won't need to be told this. They know better than to use a club when getting up from the ground. Same idea, except in golf it's the club that would be damaged. In Aikido it would be the mat.
[*]Never hit or touch someone with a weapon, even gently, when practicing. It's rude. Always stop short of touching them.
[*]Stepping on or tripping over a weapon on the mat is an easy way to get injured. When we aren't using our weapons for a few minutes during class (such as when only one partner needs to have a weapon), we put them down right up against the wall.
[*]Be alert to any local oddities, regardless of what you might have read or heard of as being "the correct way" of doing things. Some dojo have interesting little customs of their own. For instance, even though it's not "normal weapons etiquette" to do this, when we are sitting and watching the instructor demonstrate a technique we often tuck our weapons around behind us, against the wall if there is in any danger that someone might step on them.
[/LIST]
See? That's not so bad. Pay attention, train safely, and have fun!]]></body>
	<date>08-10-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4274">
	<title><![CDATA[Ten Tips for Visiting Another Dojo]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I][I've been meaning to write up a series of "Ten Tips" posts, for all those subjects where I have a little of this and that to say. This is as good a topic as any for the first one.][/I]

I love it when aikidoka from other dojo come play with us. It's fun to meet people from all over the world, and to learn a little about how things are done in other places. I don't travel a lot, but if I did I'd sure want to visit other dojo, meet folks there, and get my Aikido fix!

I've been to a few other dojo for seminars, talked to a lot of people from other schools, and I've been confused myself when trying to figure out how things work in new places. So here are a few pointers for figuring out "the way things are done" that might help you feel more at home when you train somewhere else:

[LIST=1]
[*]Most dojo welcome visitors of any affiliation. Knowing the affiliation or lineage can be interesting, though. The dojo where I train for instance, Aikido of San Diego, is affiliated with Aikikai, through the California Aikido Association (CAA), under Division 3, headed by Robert Nadeau Shihan.  
[*]Notice (or ask) how are instructors and others addressed? At our dojo only Goldberg Sensei is addressed as "Sensei". At some dojo any instructor who is teaching at the moment is addressed as "Sensei."
[*]Belt colors, if they are used, can help clue you in to the level of your training partners. We have a few belt colors (6 & 5 = white, 4 & 3 = blue, 2 & 1 = brown), and only yudansha wear hakama. In some schools, belts are white for all kyu ranks. In others, everyone wears hakama. So don't assume that people wearing white belts are newbies, or that those wearing hakama are yudansha.
[*]At every dojo where I've trained, and in the seminars I've been to, people don't line up in any particular order. But at some dojo, people do line up according to rank, so keep your eyes open to figure out where you should sit.
[*]We usually don't clap when we bow in. In some schools, the instructor leads bows with two claps, or sometimes four. Always follow the instructor's lead.
[*]In many schools, everybody trains with everybody else, and lower-ranked students are encouraged to approach senior students and ask them to train. But at some dojo students train with others near their own rank. In some schools lower-ranked students do not approach seniors, they wait to be asked.
[*]At the dojo where I train, we usually change partners throughout the class. At some dojo you stick with the same partner through the whole class.
[*]In some places you try a technique two times, and then switch with our partner, while in others each partner does the technique four times before switching.
[*]In many dojo it is OK to unobtrusively step off the mat for water (we often keep a water bottle near the edge of the mat), or to go to the bathroom if you must. Do this during training times, never when the instructor is demonstrating a technique or speaking. At some dojo leaving the mat for any reason is strongly discouraged, and you should ask first (don't just duck out). If you think you might need to excuse yourself during class, ask a local student how things are done, or just watch the others who regularly train there.
[*]Also notice (or ask) how you should return. We bow in without interrupting the class and return to training, and a standing bow is OK. At some dojo you would wait, in seiza, at the edge of the mat for the instructor to allow you back into the class, and do a seated bow when you are acknowledged.
[*]Enjoy!
[/LIST]

If you are in San Diego area on business or vacation, come play. You will be welcome. You can find directions, mat fee, etc. here: [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/membership.htm"]http://www.aikidosd.com/membership.htm[/URL]]]></body>
	<date>08-08-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4268">
	<title><![CDATA[Train as Fast as You Can]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[One of the things we focused on in Cyril Poissonnet’s class tonight was speed. We worked on training only at a pace where we could still do the technique well. We noticed how we would often get impatient and rush, and our form would fall apart. It was a really useful exercise to train keeping an awareness of that. I should incorporate it into my day-to-day training.

Cyril demonstrated doing a few things slowly, and correctly, and then speeding up to the point where they fell apart. He instructed us to go “as fast as you can,” but only as fast as you can. If your technique gets sloppy, slow down to a speed where you can do it well.

It reminded me of something similar Patrick Cassidy Sensei told us during his most recent seminar at Aikido of San Diego. Cassidy Sensei asked if we knew what speed people are supposed to drive on the winding mountain roads of Switzerland. No one knew. The answer, he said, was “as fast as you can.” I’m sure you can imagine the confused looks! 

“And no faster.” 

Of course Cassidy Sensei was making the same point. Don’t go faster than you are able. Important advice in many areas. We all feel pressured, we all rush, we all want to get there sooner. And as the saying goes, “the hurrieder I go, the behinder I get.” We often need to slow down to do it right.

In the arena of horse training (if you’ll forgive the pun), you’ll hear “the more you rush, the longer it takes.” I have a t-shirt from Robin Shen of Enlightened Horsemanship that says “I train my horse slowly because I do not have the patience to do it quickly.” You can’t gloss over important steps in training. You need to do them correctly, or you’ll spend ages later trying to undo your mistakes. Or you’ll end up in trouble when you suddenly discover one of the “holes” in your horse’s education.

In military firearms training they say “slow is smooth, smooth is fast.” I like that way of putting it. The way to get to fast is through smooth. The way to get smooth is to go slowly. Hurrying won’t get you there at all.

In my musical training, teachers constantly reminded me to slow down, play it correctly, use a metronome. Oh, the tedium! “Yeah, yeah… OK sure, I’ll do it.” And then I’d “practice” playing faster than I could. I was imprinting playing badly, of course. I was learning how to screw up, not how to play well, at speed or otherwise.

The thing that finally got the point across, for me, was a week-long fingerstyle guitar workshop with Woody Mann, at the Augusta Heritage Center’s Blues Week in West Virginia. I knew he was an incredible player (treat yourself, [URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IR11zjbUOU8"]listen to him in this YouTube clip[/URL]). What I discovered was that he’s a brilliant teacher as well. It just didn’t look anything like I expected. Here I am, having flown across the country and driven for hours to the Middle of Nowhere to Learn to Play The Blues. Awesome! First day of class we get acquainted, get comfortable, and start playing. Slowly. Really slowly. With a freaking metronome. Seriously? “One and two and three and four and…” I came all this way to do this?

But we all did what he said. Our little group class worked through about 4 tunes, practicing together several hours every day with Woody’s guidance and instruction. We learned a lot, of course. New techniques, tips, cool sounds… But mostly we played the songs, slowly, together. And smoothly. Cleanly. With expression. It was almost hard to notice that we were playing a little faster each day. We never did fall apart. By the end of the week we were all playing all the tunes… well! And up to speed! Amazing.

I never would have really gotten it about slowing down enough to play correctly if I hadn’t been essentially “stuck” doing it for a week. 

I know this works, this training slowly. I just need to remember every day to do it. Thanks, Cyril, for reminding me today.]]></body>
	<date>08-03-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4266">
	<title><![CDATA[Weapons Words - The Big Picture]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I][Note - This is the latest in a series of posts about Aikido Words. Each of them is tagged "words" here. You can also find a page listing all of them on the other version of this blog: [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/words"]www.grabmywrist.com/words[/URL]. There are also some links to video examples there.][/I]

Weapons work shares many words with open-hand training, but weapons also have a lot of words of their own. There are a bunch of numbered things, too, and those can be really confusing until you have a sort of framework for understanding them.

So here are some words about weapons stuff, starting with the basics. There will be another couple of posts going into jo words and bokken words. Often you'll hear technique names with the numbers in Japanese. That will be another post, too.

I'm just going to cover the wooden weapons we use in regular training here. Maybe we'll look at katana, shinai, iato, shinken, and other weapons words later.

[B]The Sticks[/B]

[B]Jo [/B]- The longer straight one that looks like a rake handle.

[B]Bokken [/B]- The somewhat shorter one with a little curve to it, like a sword. Also sometimes referred to as just [B]ken[/B]. You'll also hear [B]tachi [/B]in the names of bokken or sword exercises.

[B]Tanto [/B]- The little one, about the size of a hunting knife.

[B]The [I]Kinds[/I] of Things We Do with Sticks[/B]

One of the most confusing things for me, when I was first trying to figure this stuff out, was sorting out the kinds of things we were doing. Not the specific instances, but the groupings. One exercise would be a suburi, another would be a kata, sometimes we practiced awase... I couldn't figure out what was what.  It's hard even to describe. Let's just get right to it.

[B]Suburi [/B]are discrete techniques, or very small groups of techniques, that you do by yourself. They are the very first things you learn.

They are like learning words or phrases in a language. You'll put them together later to form more complex expressions and conversations.

You will see the suburi referred to in numbered groupings, like the "20 jo suburi" or "ken suburi 1-7" For some reason the jo suburi have names, and the bokken suburi are numbered. We'll get into those in detail in a couple of other posts. 

[B]Kata [/B]are sets of techniques, still done alone, strung together in a prescribed way, each flowing into the next.

If we stick with the "suburi are like words" concept, kata are like poems. You memorize them and recite them. Like reciting poetry, everyone will have their own subtle ways of expressing kata, but we don't change the words.

You'll hear numbers when talking about kata, too. The "31 jo kata" is everywhere - it's a string of 31 movements. You'll also see the 13 jo kata, which has 13 movements. No reason you couldn't make up your own, either, but mostly we practice the set ones handed down to us. There are bokken kata, too.

[I]This is where the numbered stuff starts to get weird.[/I] The jo kata are made up of the number of techniques in the name: 13 jo kata, 31 jo kata, etc. But the bokken kata are numbered: bokken kata 1, bokken kata 2, etc.

But back to the [I]kinds [/I]of things we do…

[B]Awase [/B]are prescribed sets of techniques that you do with a partner. One partner in an awase does a familiar suburi or kata, and the other partner does the appropriate techniques that complement it. These are basic exercises to learn timing and distance when working in relation to another. The suburi you have been learning will begin to make more sense in the context of practicing awase.

If suburi are words and phrases, and kata are poems, then awase are very simple conversations, the kind you learn when studying a new language. "Good morning." "Good morning." "Where is the library?" "Is there there, on the left." "Thank you." "You are welcome." Very simple, perhaps a bit formal, and not quite how a real conversation might go, but a necessary step in becoming fluent. 

The two simplest are left awase, and right awase. [I]Then there's a little more number weirdness…[/I] You'll hear the "5th awase" and "7th awase" mentioned. These are just partner practices incorporating the 5th and 7th suburi. (There are no 1st, 2nd, 3rd, 4th, or 6th awase.)

[B]Kumitachi [/B]and [B]Kumijo [/B]are partner practices that more closely simulate an actual fight, using the bokken and jo, respectively.

The distinction between awase and kumitachi/kumijo seems fuzzy to me. There is a partner practice based on the 31 jo kata, for instance, that I see referred to both as the 31 jo awase and 31 kumijo.

[B]A Last Comment About Numbers You'll Hear[/B]

[I]The numbers for suburi have nothing to do with the numbers in the names of kata.[/I]

When you see "20 jo suburi" or "ken suburi 1 through 7" those are just describing which ones we're talking about. If you have to do the "bokken suburi 1-5" on a test that's just the first five descrete bokken techniques. Saito Sensei created a set of 20 jo suburi for us to practice. They are 20 separate exercises.

The 31 jo kata, on the other hand, is a single flowing exercise incorporating 31 movements. [I]Note that the 20 jo suburi are not the 1st 20 movements of the 31 jo kata.[/I] They are completely separate things.]]></body>
	<date>07-31-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4258">
	<title><![CDATA[A Gateway]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Sensei has announced that there will be an uchi-deshi program at our dojo, beginning in mid-summer. You can contact him for details (via the [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com"]Aikido of San Diego website[/URL]) if you are interested in participating.

It looks to me like a rare and valuable opportunity to train intensively, deepen one's understanding of Aikido, learn to teach, test one's own limits, and discover new possibilities, all under the guidance of a truly gifted teacher.

It also looks to me like a right of passage. Forging, like seeing combat, for a future military officer. A gateway. How one moves from casual student to serious practitioner.

Right now I'm not in a place to walk through that gateway. I don't know if I ever will be. I hope, maybe, somehow, someday... There's a little fear and frustration about that. What if I'm not able? What if it's not there? A sense of loss. And there's reminding myself that upset from thwarted intention just points to a commitment.

It's OK, though. There are cracks to peek through, high places where one can see over, and a lot of space to explore on this side of the wall. For now.]]></body>
	<date>07-22-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4254">
	<title><![CDATA[Practicing &quot;Low Falls&quot;]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[High falls, hard falls, break falls...

Just the names conjure up tension. I have fun practicing them, and am improving (softer/safer). But I also end up with some interesting bruises and sore spots now and then, from doing them in a slappy, braced, breath-holding, brute-force-ish kind of way.

We go about learning to do them in a relaxed, easy way, but at some point between the working up to them and the doing them my brain flips from [I]"swoosh"[/I] to [B]"wham!"[/B]

A few days ago when one of our instructors said we were going to work on high falls (Yay!) a fellow student jokingly suggested that we should "work on low falls instead."

Huh... I think I like that idea!

The point isn't to get lots of air, it's to land comfortably, with as little impact as possible. Keep (or get) your head low to the mat. Reach over and touch the mat as you rotate into rolling down softly. No "wham!"

Thinking of them as "low falls" takes a little of the edge off, and is a handy reminder that the idea is to get low, not high. 

I think I'll call them low falls from now on.]]></body>
	<date>07-20-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4243">
	<title><![CDATA[My 3rd Kyu Exam - Video]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[As usual, here's my exam video:
[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tin-jzgLmWI&hd=1"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tin-jzgLmWI&hd=1[/URL]
This link goes to the HD version - probably best watched full-screen. If you have a slower connection, change to one of the lower-res versions.

Feedback (which I know will be constructive, on AikiWeb!) is welcome. I'm pretty happy with how I did, but of course can see lots of things to work on for next time. :p 

I figure now that I have 4 exam videos, they deserve their own playlist. So here it is, starting at 6th kyu (in case you have nothing better to do). LOL http://www.youtube.com/pla&#8203;ylist?list=PL0F5D81895C5E5&#8203;A30

My 6th kyu exam has around 9,500 views so far. Every month or two I get a nice comment from someone who's been encouraged in some way by my exam videos (usually a new student who is freaking out about taking their first test, as I was). One of my favorite comments came in a few hours ago, and just made my day:

"You're amazing, Linda-sama. I started train Aikido last week, but before - I had lot of doubts: if I am too old, people are bad, everything will be bad. I'm waiting about two years for my first train. But i taste it, and became addicted of this art. Thank you, for recording. Good luck! (sorry about my english)"

Sweet. :)]]></body>
	<date>07-10-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4241">
	<title><![CDATA[3rd Kyu Test Prep - The Real Story]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A few days ago I posted a note to myself on preparing for my upcoming 3rd kyu exam. My test is tomorrow morning. Here's how things have really gone:

[LIST]
[*]Do laundry and cut your nails two or three days ahead. [check]
[*]Go to class on Friday night.
[*]Stay after to work out a few questions on some techniques.
[*]Pick out a jo and bokken to use, and put them where you can find them on the rack.
[*]Decide to burn off some nervous energy and get settled by cleaning a little.
[*]Put on music.
[*]Sweep the mat, vacuum, wipe down some stuff, clean up cobwebs.
[*]Take out the trash and recycling.
[*]Check out the jo, and discover a rough spot. Find another one you like better.
[*]Decide it's important to remove the years-old "Made in Japan" sticker from the jo.
[*]Find the Goo Gone. Remove the sticker goo and create a little clean spot.
[*]Decide to clean the whole jo with a damp rag and a little soap.
[*]Notice that it's not a slick as it should be. Find weapons repair kit in dojo bag.
[*]Oil jo. Run through the first 10 jo suburi just to be sure it still works OK.
[*]Close up and go home.
[*]Get confused about the start of yon no suburi while driving.
[*]Feed cats and donkeys.
[*]Review your Giant Spreadsheet of Technique Notes.
[*]Try a slow-mo in-motion technique on husband to be sure of how it goes.
[*]Set up the coffee maker for morning.
[*]Notice that it's late.
[*]Decide to wash hair in the morning instead.
[*]Write a blog post.
[*]Go to bed.
[/LIST]
Still working on that whole masakatsu agasu thing...]]></body>
	<date>07-09-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4239">
	<title><![CDATA[Freeing Ourselves from &quot;I Can't...&quot;]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Recently a teacher wrote a frustrated blog post about their students not training enough to really improve, not participating in seminars with visiting instructors, and not supporting the dojo community.

The context was Aikido, but it could have been music, horsemanship, or anything else. I see the same thing happen all over. 

We mostly live in the same world. We have jobs, families, and other things going on in our lives. But if we want to get good at something, anything, we have to put in the hours. And if we want our teachers, schools, and arts to be around for us, and for others, they need our active participation and support. 

What does that look like to me? Join, and pay your dues, even during times you can't train for a while. Pitch in and help with projects and events. Invite your friends. Promote your art publicly. When teachers are generous enough with their time to write books or produce videos, buy them. Show up and train, and support each other.

Something I've noticed about people's participation (or the relative lack thereof), is a common way of thinking and speaking about priorities. "I can't…" "I would, but…" "I have to…" It's disempowering. It robs us of the opportunity to engage fully (at whatever level is appropriate). When we're honest with ourselves about where we are, and what's true for us, we have some power in the situation. When we whine about our circumstances we become victims to the choices we've made, and powerless to change.

One response to the above teacher's post struck me as a perfect example of this kind of speaking. I don't know their actual situation, and don't mean to pick on them, it's just that they provided a perfect example to discuss. The commentor said something to the effect of "I wish I could train more, but I just can't. I have to be home to have dinner on the table every night." Really? You have to? Either this person is enslaved or imprisoned (unlikely), or is making the choice to be home with their family rather than head to the dojo after work. That's a perfectly fine choice, but don't whine about it.

When we speak the truth, which is likely something closer to "I love the idea of training daily, but it's more important to me to provide a good dinner for my family every night" then we not only honor our real priorities, but we can actually see them clearly. When we see them clearly, we can choose freely whether to change them or not. When we speak as though we have no choice, we actually cannot see that we do have a choice. Our unspoken (and often unexamined) real priorities control us, instead of the other way ‘round.

So as an exercise, I invite you to look for these things in your own speaking (even/especially if it's only in your own head):
[LIST]
[*]"I cant, because…"
[*]"I wish I could / I would / I'd love too, but…"
[*]"I'm too busy / broke / etc…"
[/LIST]Carefully examine the real situation, and reword them. Notice if you feel either happier with your current situation, or if you feel more able to change it. 

Some examples:
[LIST]
[*]"I can't. I don't have time." vs. "It's more important to me to relax, away from people, in the evenings."
[*]"I wish I could, but I have to work." vs. "I would rather save my vacation time for something else," or "I chose to work in a field/job without any flexibility in the schedule," or "I'm afraid to ask my boss for time off."
[*]"I'm too old." vs. "I'm afraid it will be too physically challenging," or "I'd be self-conscious being the only one there over 20."
[/LIST]
There are cases where you really, truly, factually can't. I can't join the Navy. I'm too old. Fine. But mostly our limitations are lies we tell ourselves, to give ourselves a comfortable way out. Once we realize the truth is "I'd be self conscious…", and not really "I can't…" we can chose either to let being self-conscious stop us, or to give it a go anyway. "I'm too busy" keeps us from seeing how we really choose to spend our time. Even if the reality is "I don't know how to," then at least we can explore how to, and not be stuck up against "it's not possible."

When we shift from "I can't. I have to be home to have dinner on the table every night," to "I don't train every night because it's important to me to provide a good dinner for my family," we open up some freedom to explore options. Maybe making big dinners on Mondays and Wednesdays could mean great meals from leftovers on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Maybe, if the real issue is spending time with family members, breakfast together could be the solution. Maybe finding a dojo with morning classes is the answer. Or maybe the truth is "Training at that level really isn't important to me." That's fine. But we can't explore these things as long as we're stuck in "I can't… I have to…"

Some issues I've dealt with, or am working on:
[LIST]
[*]"I can only train one night a week, because I'm busy every other night." I gave up other commitments, changed my work hours, and now I train 4 nights a week.
[*]"I wish I could ride my horse more." I realized that was a familiar story I was telling myself, but wasn't true for me anymore. Now my horse is off with a potential new person, and I can stop feeling bad about not getting around to riding.
[*]"I can't ever be an uchi-deshi because I don't have that kind of freedom, and besides, I'm too old." I've changed my speaking on that to "I'd love to train at the level of focus and intensity one would find as an uchi-deshi. I don't how see to do that right now, because I have a job, a home, and a husband, and I don't know if I'd be physically up to it, but it's a possibility I'm open to exploring."
[/LIST]
I love to hear about places where you've shifted from "I can't…" to something more powerful. Even if it's only "I want to, but I don't see how yet."]]></body>
	<date>07-07-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4237">
	<title><![CDATA[3rd Kyu Test Prep - Notes to Self]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Test Date: Saturday, 9 July, 2011,
Test Time: Immediately following a 9 a.m. class

Dear Self,

You will have a happier day, and a more successful test, if you follow these instructions:

[LIST]
[*]Do laundry and cut your nails two or three days ahead.
[*]Go to class on Friday night, then go home.
[*]Set out gi, clothes for going to lunch, weapons, Gatorade, banana, & a protein bar.
[*]Review your Giant Spreadsheet of Technique Notes.
[*]Sit quietly and visualize doing your entire test beautifully. Twice.
[*]Go to bed by 10:00. Set two alarms. Put the iPad down. Sleep.
[*]Get up at 6:00. As in Out Of Bed. Feet on the floor! Make coffee.
[*]Eat a big 3-egg and cheese breakfast before doing anything else.
[*]Put the iPad down.
[*]Feed critters, shower, get dressed, and leave for the dojo.
[*]Listen to "Powerful Energy" playlist in the car. Visualize the whole test.
[*]Eat a banana and a protein bar.
[*]OK, OK, yes, you may check in on Facebook. Sheesh.
[*]Be on the mat by 8 a.m. 
[*]Warm up. Stretch. Breathe. Explore the space. Your space. Relax.
[*]Drink a Gatorade, and refill your water bottle.
[*]No matter what happens on the way, or in class, focus, breathe.
[*]Remember your posture, your freedom, your happiness, connection, and the ground.
[*]Remember that you are well prepared for this.
[/LIST]

Bow in with gratitude and joy.
Your Self]]></body>
	<date>07-03-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4219">
	<title><![CDATA[Aiki Retreat Road Trip]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[On Saturday morning I head off on my big Aikido adventure of the year, a road trip to the week-long Aiki Retreat at Menlo College in the Bay Area. This is my first live-in, out-of-town Aikido seminar, and I'm really excited to be going! Summer camp! Woohooo!

The instructors are Robert Nadeau Shihan, Frank Doran Shihan, and Hiroshi Ikeda Shihan, and Mary Heiny Sensei. I've been in seminars with each of them twice before, except for just one seminar with Mary Heiny Sensei. I'm looking forward to exploring their teaching in more depth.

I've been keeping [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/3968363303/aiki-summer-retreat-2011-prep"]my to-do and packing lists in an earlier blog post[/URL]. Everything is done except for vacuuming the car, putting on the new wiper blades, and printing a sheet of contact info in case my phone falls into a water trough or something.

I'll be taking two days to drive up, and two days back, visiting horsey friends along the way in Fresno, Livermore, and San Juan Bautista. [URL="http://maps.google.com/maps/ms?doflg=ptm&ie=UTF8&msa=0&msid=202779919239793946558.0004a55d5a7b72670d567&ll=36.102376,-117.432861&spn=6.877019,14.27124&t=h&z=7"]Here's a map of my route[/URL], if you're into that sort of thing. 

I plan to post a lot of photos, observations, insights, and other random blabbering at [URL="http://www.GrabMyWrist.com"]www.GrabMyWrist.com[/URL], from my iPhone, so my blog (only there, not here) will be rather busy and random for a while. Expect typos and incomplete thoughts! I'll be on the road June 11-19. I won't be checking email while I'm away, so use Facebook (I'm easy to find) or text messages (619 368-4333) if you want to say hi. 

Hope to see you there!
Linda]]></body>
	<date>06-10-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4209">
	<title><![CDATA[Resistance]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A friend recently gave me a book she thought I might enjoy, and I really have. It's the sort of book that whatever you open it up to, there's something relevant to whatever's going on. It's poetic without being sappy, and inspiring without being preachy. Calming. Sensible.

Just yesterday day a friend on Facebook mentioned that it must have been really sad for me to give up riding. My reply began "Surprisingly not all that sad. Trying to remain committed to something I was really no longer committed to was difficult. Finally seeing things clearly was a relief. …" And just hours later I randomly picked up the book, and opened it to this, which is also relevant to Aikido technique, and Aikido in everything:

[B]Resistance[/B]

Everyone will tell you
"Change is hard,"
Transformation is the greatest
Challenge
On your spiritual journey.
But it's not true.
Change is not hard.
Resistance to change is
Hard. 
If you let go
Surrender into the 
Fear
Willingly
Open your fists and
Release
All you are clutching
And simply be still as the 
Winds of transformation
Blow through you
Then everything in you that is
Not free
Will be carried away with the
Leaves and dust and debris
Lifted into the air and
Gone
And all that will remain
Is
Peace.
See?
Transformation is
Easy
If you stop trying so hard to change
And
Like a strong breath clearing a
Palmful of ashes
Just let the
Wind
Free you.

by [B]Nicole Grace[/B], 
from her book:
[I][B]Bodhisattva - How To Be Free[/B]
Teachings to Guide You Home [/I]]]></body>
	<date>05-28-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4208">
	<title><![CDATA[Who will we have become?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Sick with an ordinary cold
Nothing to do but wait it out
And feel sorry for myself
For missing class

Instead I settle in with videos
Random classes decades ago
Years before even my teacher 
First heard of Aikido

Awkward, white-belted beginners
Fresh-faced, eager, nameless ukes
Who have these people become?
Teachers? Writers? Leaders?

Do I know them?
Are they the ones showing the way now?
Do I go to their seminars?
Read their books? 

I think of our time, my fellow students, 
Even the awkward, nameless ones
Who will we have become
When people look back on us?]]></body>
	<date>05-24-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4198">
	<title><![CDATA[Year Three - Another Beginning]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Today marks the beginning of my third year in Aikido.

When I first started training, I meant to become a better horseperson. I have, but part of the process has been to discover that I don't want to have a horse of my own, and so he is off with a friend, looking for his new person.

At first I thought I would not bother with weapons. I've never been into swords and ninja and samurai. I was just going to stick with the open-hand stuff. Instead I discovered that I love weapons work.

When I first called Sensei to ask about training, I explained how I could only be at the dojo one night a week. Now I train four or five days a week, plus workshops and seminars.

At first I disregarded the "woo-woo" stuff I'd heard about. Now I see that the emotional, energetic, spiritual, and embodiment aspects are where the real fun is. Well, there, and flinging each other around the dojo. 

This year is a new adventure. I see a few familiar things on the horizon, a couple of seminars, and testing for 3rd kyu in July, but mostly I'm walking the path in wonder, open to discovering whatever lies ahead.]]></body>
	<date>05-05-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4189">
	<title><![CDATA[Training with My Whole Heart]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[About this time next week, if all goes according to plan, I will be packing up Rainy’s things, feeding him a few last carrots, and sending him off to live with a friend. She will be evaluating him, training him, and ultimately finding him a new person, and a new future. He’s bored and lonely here, and too talented to spend his youth puttering around my backyard with just two donkeys for company.

Rainy will be taking a day-long trip north to the bay area, in a big box stall on an air-ride semi-trailer. At the farm he will be living in a pasture with three playmates, and will be working with a trainer several days a week. It’s going to be a little rough on me, saying goodbye, but he’ll have fun there.

I am giving up riding. More accurately, I am giving up lying to myself about being a rider. Sure, I’ll go out with friends, or to a dude ranch now and then, but I’m letting go of saying that any day now I’m going to get around to taking regular lessons, training in dressage, doing groundwork in the yard, and putting some miles in on the trails. It hasn’t happened in the nearly 15 years I’ve had horses, and it’s not going to happen. It was a story I told about who I was, one I was very attached to, but it wasn’t true. It’s time to stop telling it.

I have had plenty of frustrations. I have faced challenges. I have been discouraged, injured, sick, busy… Rather than pointing the way toward this realization, those things actually kept me from seeing it. I thought things would be different when when my mare was healthy. I’d finally be able to commit to the time when I had the perfect job. Once my health was back on track, then things would work out. And after I’d gotten Rainy, it was that he wasn’t quite trained, and when he was a better horse, and after I had a year of Aikido behind me so I could be a better horseperson for him, then I’d ride all the time. Well I have the perfect job, I’m healthier than I have been in years, maybe ever, Rainy had a very successful four months of training, I’ve been training in Aikido for almost two years. Short of winning the lottery and hiring staff, the circumstances don’t get any better than this. And I’m still not riding.

It took me a year to fully recognize and explore the reality of the issue - to be certain I wasn’t just frustrated or discouraged with riding, or temporarily swept up in the intensity of learning a new discipline. Possibly looking for a shiny new identity to glom onto. The truth is that I work, I train, I write. I do gardening and photography. I spend weekends doing chores, running errands, and going on adventures with Michael. What I do not do is ride my horse. 

The central focus of my life has become Aikido. Not Aikido to improve my horsemanship. Not Aikido to become a better rider. Not for balance or strength or safety. Not in order to. Just Aikido.

When I finally saw and accepted where I was, and where I was going, after one Tuesday night’s class about exactly that - noticing where you are, noticing where you are going, and accepting it, so that you can go effectively in that direction - I wrote a note to Sensei, who had been an occasional sounding board as I worked through the decision, or maybe discovery. Putting it down in words, finally telling someone, made it real for me.

That next evening in class I felt more “there” than I ever had. Rooted where I was, not drawn off balance by the pull of another side of myself, having somewhere else I should be, or trying to exist in two places at once. Several people commented, both in class and afterward, that my technique was really good. Things seemed simple, clear, easy. Settled.

Lao Tsu said ”When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.”

At first, maybe a year ago, I found this whole idea very upsetting. It was contrary to everything I’ve seen myself to be for most of my life - everything I worked very hard to be. I pushed back, denied it, and tried to find ways around it. I explored it over many months, sat with it, and now have accepted it. Rather than feeling a sense of loss, there is a sense of freedom. New space to explore. And integrity. Coming into alignment with myself.

[INDENT]“Tie me up and hold me down 
  (Oh, my traveling star) 
Bury my feet down in the ground 
  (Oh, old road dog) 
Claim my name from the lost and found 
And let me believe this is where I belong”[/INDENT]
James Taylor, “My Traveling Star”]]></body>
	<date>04-12-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4163">
	<title><![CDATA[Revised - Summer Camp! (Packing Lists)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[NOTE - I originally published this as a link to grabmywrist.com, where I also post this blog, but decided the whole list should be here, too. As I go along I'll only be updating the other one, but when all is said and done I'll post a revised/final version here, too. Enjoy!]

This summer, June 12-18, I'm going for the first time to the Aiki Summer Retreat at Menlo College, in Atherton, California (in the Bay Area). The sensei are Robert Nadeau, Frank Doran, Hiroshi Ikeda Shihan, and Mary Heiny Sensei, plus other instructors in the evenings. (If you're going to the Aiki Summer Retreat at Menlo College, drop me a note! I'd love to meet up there, and get to know some of the names here as real live people. :-) )

It's the kind of thing where you stay in the dorms, eat in the dining hall, swim in the pool, and eat, breathe, and sleep Aikido for a whole week. I'll be driving there and back (about 10 hours each way). Part seminar, part summer camp, part road trip. Woohoo! 

I know a bunch of folks who have gone before, both fellow students from Aikido of San Diego, and people I've met at seminars (and am looking forward to seeing again!). Dave Goldberg Sensei has gone many times, and says he's never had a bad day there (besides, it's a cheap vacation). Cathé, a dojo mate, went last year and has given me a whole array of great tips for having a great time.

Being the planning, list-making sort, I've been planning and making lists. If you're going, too, you might find them helpful. Check back from time to time, as I will be adding to these, I'm sure. Here's what I've got so far:

TO-DO LISTS:

Car
[LIST]
[*]New tires
[*]Alignment
[*]Oil change & check fluids
[*]Wash / vacuum
[/LIST]

Other Chores
[LIST]
[*]Shop for food & supplies
[*]Do laundry. Write name in all my gi / belt.
[*]Arrange horse & donkey care. Others may not need to do this. ;-)
[*]If going alone, arrange to visit with friends on the way up and back. 
[*]Print a list of critical phone numbers, in case of phone failure.
[*]Set up iPad and iPhone with tunes, playlists, photos, and videos.
[/LIST]

PACKING LISTS:

Everyday Stuff
[LIST]
[*]Wallet
[*]Checkbook
[*]Purse
[*]Notebook
[*]Pens
[/LIST]

Road Trip Stuff
[LIST]
[*]Maps
[*]Roadside emergency kit (triangles, tools…)
[/LIST]

Food
[I]Note that I don't eat meat (except for fish), or gluten (wheat, barley, rye). I don't like onions or garlic, and am mildly allergic to cinnamon and walnuts. So I'm hard to get along with. When I go to events where food is included, I bring my own, too. If there's something there I can eat (salad, fruit, cheese), great. If not, I won't starve. I have been told there is a microwave in the dining hall, and a Trader Joe's across the street from the college, so picking simple things up and cooking them there should be easy, too. [/I]
[LIST]
[*]Nuts
[*]Instant Thai soups w/ rice noodles
[*]Instant coffee
[*]Tea bags
[*]Big insulated mug
[*]Thermos
[*]Spoon, fork, and knife (big enough for cutting up fruit)
[/LIST]

Cooler
[LIST]
[*]Ice packs (for icing joints, etc.)
[*]Yogurt
[*]Tofu
[*]Cheese
[/LIST]

Toiletries
[LIST]
[*]Toiletries kit - remember that this is a dorm, with bathrooms down the hall.
[*]Shampoo & conditioner
[*]Blow dryer & straightening iron
[*]Brush & comb
[*]Fingernail / Toenail clippers
[*]Callous remover
[*]Lotion, sunscreen, hand repair cream (Burt's Bees - highly recommended)
[*]Road trip emergency medicines: Tylenol, Tums, Immodium
[*]Vision stuff: Contacts, glasses (regular and reading) eye drops, soaking solution, contact case, spare set of lenses, sunglasses
[*]Breathing stuff: Saline nose spray, Sudafed
[*]Ladies, if you need girl stuff, add that to your list, too!
[/LIST]

Training Things
[I]If you are a dan-ranked sort of person, remember your yudansha book and hakama, too. I don't have to worry about that yet![/I]
[LIST]
[*]Gi (several)
[*]Underpants
[*]Sports bras
[*]Sweat-wiping cloths
[*]Flip-flops
[*]Water bottle
[/LIST]

Weapons bag
[LIST]
[*]Jo
[*]Bokken
[*]Tanto
[*]Weapons Repair Kit (oil, sandpaper, rag)
[/LIST]

Play Clothes
[I]I am told it can be pretty warm there, but the weather stats I've seen don't look all that bad. I'm figuring on summer weather, with maybe a cool evening or two thrown in. [/I]
[LIST]
[*]Yoga pants
[*]Jeans
[*]Belts
[*]T-shirts
[*]Tank tops / undershirts
[*]Light jacket
[*]Swimsuit
[*]Underpants
[*]Bras
[*]Socks
[*]Hat
[/LIST]

Dress Clothes
Guys, you might want to skip the dress. Heck, I might even skip the dress. I just want to plan one outfit that would be appropriate if there's a trip to an off-site sit-down restaurant or something.
[LIST]
[*]Dress
[*]Shoes that go with dress
[*]Necklace
[*]Purse
[/LIST]

Things for Aiki Follies?
[I]This is a mystery to me so far. Props? Guitar? Clown shoes? We shall see…[/I]
[LIST]
[*]_______________________
[*]_______________________
[/LIST]

Dorm Living
[I]I am told the dorms are austere, with concrete floors. I think basic bed linens are provided. Some people bring area rugs. (Some even bring flowers in vases!) I'm figuring a rug and/or mat for stretching. A small fan can be really nice. Been there, done that: U of W dorms for the Oshkosh EAA Airshow. Damn… We thought we were going to melt. People who'd been there before packed big box fans on the plane! Others tried to buy locally, but all the stores ran out.[/I]
[LIST]
[*]Area rug
[*]Yoga mat
[*]Fan
[*]Pillows (two buckwheat hull-filled ones I can't live without)
[*]Zafu
[*]Towel / Washcloth / Rag
[*]Towel for pool
[/LIST]

Photography
[I]Camera
3 Batteries
2 Chargers
Several SD Cards
Case[/I]

iThings
[I]Reportedly, the dorms have WiFi. It's slow, but it should do the trick. I'm on AT&T… No idea what coverage is like there.[/I]
[LIST]
[*]iPhone
[*]iPad
[*]Phone earbuds (with mic)
[*]2 chargers
[/LIST]

Physical Therapy / First Aid
[LIST]
[*]Yoga mat
[*]Foam roller
[*]Stick (or Tiger Tail)
[*]BioFreeze
[*]Arnica
[*]White sports tape
[*]Vet Rap
[*]Band-Aids
[*]Lamb's wool
[*]Moleskin
[/LIST]

That's is so far. Expect this to change (grow) between now and then. I'll probably post some amendments afterward, too - things I didn't need after all, or wish I'd brought. If you have any suggestions, especially if you've gone before, I'd love to hear them. See you there? I hope!

[Here's the version of my [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/3968363303/aiki-summer-retreat-2011-prep"]Aikido Summer Camp Packing List [/URL]that I'll be keeping up to date as I think of changes.]]]></body>
	<date>03-19-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4148">
	<title><![CDATA[Knowing the Principle]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This excerpt from [B]The Book of Five Rings [/B]reminded me of something Sensei said in class recently, in the context of techniques versus principles. My recollection of the point is that if you hunt for techniques in jiyuwaza ("When my partner attacks like x, I should do technique y."), you will be limited in the freedom, flow, and appropriateness you can achieve. Even if you get really good at it, you will still be only really good at a self-limiting system of operating. Your mind will always be getting in the way of free expression. Instead, by internalizing the principles, the appropriate techniques will appear easily. 

[INDENT]"The Great Learning speaks of consummating knowledge and perfecting things. Consummating knowledge means knowing the principles of everything that people in the world know. Perfecting things means that when you know the principle of everything thoroughly, then you know everything, and can do everything. When there is nothing more you know, there is nothing you can do either. When you do not know the principle, nothing at all comes to fruition.

In all things, uncertainty exists because of not knowing. [I]Things stick in your mind because of being in doubt. When the principle is clarified, nothing sticks in your mind.[/I] This is called consummating knowledge and perfecting things. [I]Since there is no longer anything sticking in your mind, your tasks become easy to do[/I]."[/INDENT]
From [B]The Book of Five Rings - A Classic Text on the Japanese Way of the Sword[/B]
By Miyamoto Musashi
Translated by Thomas Cleary]]></body>
	<date>02-27-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4147">
	<title><![CDATA[Words: Huh? What's Everyone Saying?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[[URL="http://www.aikiweb.com/blogs/my-path-17246/a-few-words-4137/"]An introduction to my Words posts[/URL], if you haven't read it yet.]

Everyone's first few days (weeks? months?) of training can be disorienting and overwhelming. You need to learn how to dress yourself, how to sit, how to stand… Acck! You also hear a lot of new words - Japanese terms and phrases. When I was hearing them for the first few times I couldn't even make sense of them enough to remember them so I could look them up later.

Here's a huge tip: Almost every dojo, including ours, has a list of common terms in the dojo handbook! Be sure to look there - it's very handy. 

For my first Words post, here are some you will hear in every class. They are mostly the same from dojo to dojo. You'll be saying them often, too. Here goes:

[B]Onegaishimasu[/B]

[OWN-ah-GAH-ee-shee-mahs  Note that the "u" at the end is silent. A good way to remember it is that it sounds a little like "Oh my gosh, a mouse!" To help with spelling, remember that it starts with "one".]

You will hear and say this at the beginning of class, when Sensei and the class all bow to each other, and when you approach another student to ask them to train with you (you both say it). I've heard several interpretations of it. Whatever the exact translation, in practice it is a polite request which functions as "would you please train with me?" 

[B]Domo arigato gozaimashita[/B]
[DOE-moe ahr-ee-GAH-toh GO-zah-ee-MASH-ta  When I have heard native speakers say it, it sounds like there is a comma after domo, like this: "Domo, arigato gozaimashita."]  

Everyone says this when Sensei and the class bow to each other at the end of class. It means "thank you very much for what you just did."

[B]Arigato [/B]means thank you.

[B]Domo [/B]is an polite, formal intensifier, like adding "very much" in English, except it comes first (like muchos grácias in Spanish).

Sometimes, informally, you will hear people just say "Domo" by itself. In that context it's used like "thanks."

[B]Gozaimashita [/B]places the thanking in time, relative to the action. Roughly it's used like, "for something you've already done." Here you are thanking someone for having just trained with you.

You may have also heard "gozaimasu" [go-ZAH-ee-mahs, silent "u"]. That's used when thanking someone for something they haven't done yet. Like "Would you pick up some milk at the store? Thanks!" It's also used for something that was just done, sometimes, so you will hear people saying it at the end of class, too.]]></body>
	<date>02-26-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4137">
	<title><![CDATA[A Few Words]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Several people have asked me recently about some of the words we use at the dojo. I've sent them some info privately, but what the heck, I might as well share with everyone. 

It drives me nuts to not understand what's being said. Even worse, to use words I don't understand, repeating them by rote. So I've tried my best to make sense of the terminology around Aikido. In most cases the explanations I give will simply be my own understanding of the meanings, tricks I use for remembering them, etc.

Some of the things I intend to cover include
[LIST]
[*]Numbers and counting-related words
[*]Attack and technique-related words
[*]Names of things
[*]Weapons technique names
[*]Commonly-heard Japanese greetings and phrases
[/LIST]
These posts will be as accurate as I can make them, but will all be informally based on my own very limited understanding. I will try to give some indication of how sure I am of what I'm saying, and if I'm just plain wrong please tell me so (and if appropriate I'll go back and correct things). Any pronunciation tips I give will only be for how I've heard them spoken in the context of training, not The Correct Japanese Pronunciation. In no case should anything in these posts be considered authoritative. I do hope it will be helpful, though!

When I know of solid sources of information I will point those out. There are a few very good books, websites, and podcasts, both for learning Aikido-specific terminology, and for learning to speak Japanese.

I will tag each of these posts Words so you can click that tag in the header of each post to see more posts about words. You can also [URL="http://www.aikiweb.com/blogs/my-path-17246/category/words.html"]go directly to a page here that will catalog all my posts about Aikido terminology[/URL].]]></body>
	<date>02-18-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4130">
	<title><![CDATA[Things Your Sensei Says?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Someone on Facebook recently asked what your sensei says regularly that sticks in your mind & helps inform your Aikido or other Martial Arts practice mentally, physically, or spiritually?

I actually misinterpreted the question as asking about things Sensei says about Aikido that inform my life outside the dojo. Off-the-mat Aikido. Here are the things (not his actual words, of course) that came to mind, plus a few more, that stick with me:

[LIST]
[*]Constant reminders to settle, check our own posture and alignment. Be in integrity with ourselves. 
[*]Attend to doing what we are doing as well as we can, not to trying to make it affect our partner.
[*]Notice where we are, and where we are going. Being aware of these things is what allows opportunities for positive transitions to arise.
[*]Keep our eyes up and see the big picture. Don't focus attention on the attack.
[*]Work with others at their level. Help them be safe, and don't pile on information or levels of detail or finesse they are not yet able to understand.
[*]It's not about having a soft or a hard style. It's about being appropriate to the situation. 
[*]If you operate at the mind-based level of planning each action based on if-then decisions leading to codified responses, you won't experience freedom in your actions, and you will always be limited in what you can achieve.
[*]And one that I heard for the first time in tonight's class, that seems to fit here: If your attacker wants to retreat, build them a golden bridge on which to get away.
[/LIST]
Important lessons for every aspect of life.]]></body>
	<date>02-11-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4123">
	<title><![CDATA[Before &amp; After]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We did a simple little cleaning project today at the dojo. The bamboo around the garden had gotten mildewy with the recent rains. It had become worn and mottled, attacked by the elements. It took only a little time and elbow grease to reveal the warm natural color and solid structure that was still there under the grime. It's beautiful again. 

I took before and after photos with my iPhone. Afterward a few of us went out for lunch. We were talking about how we got started in Aikido, and how we'd changed because of it. Our Befores and Afters.

It wasn't until I thought about the photos I'd taken that the parallels came to mind. The bamboo started out shiny and fresh, as we all do. The seasons took their toll. Ugliness and disease were winning out. It had started to look like maybe we should give up, and pitch it in the dumpster. But Sensei knew what was underneath all the crud. So we worked together, put in a little effort, and brought it back. 

That knowing what's under the crud that's built up, that working together, that little effort and elbow grease... That's what we do, with Sensei's guidance, in Aikido. We bring each other back.

(You can see the before and after photos here: [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/3132247978/bamboo"]http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/3132247978/bamboo[/URL])]]></body>
	<date>02-05-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4113">
	<title><![CDATA[The Stillness After the Seminar]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[So about that seminar, finally... I had a [I]great [/I]time at the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar a couple of weeks ago. Doran, Ikeda, and Tissier Sensei taught again, and this time each also did a tanto (knife) class. I got to train and hang out with some really nice folks I met there last year, several of my Aikido rock star heroes, and some new friends I hope to see again soon. I even got to have a house guest for the duration. On the basic "having a good time" scale, it was way up there. Lots of fun.

I love training at the level of intensity available at seminars - really focusing on nothing else for several days, without distraction. I definitely plan to be back next year, and am looking forward to 4 days with Patrick Cassidy Sensei in February, the Aiki Summer Retreat at Menlo Park in June, Robert Nadeau Shihan some time this summer, and our dojo retreat in the mountains in the fall. And some day, on my wish list, George Ledyard Sensei's Weapons & Randori Intensive. There's something about that removal from everyday life to just train that allows for breakthroughs. More on that another time.

It was interesting to notice that this year I got more frustrated and impatient with myself. Last year I was only a 6th kyu with about 6 months of training behind me. My most fervent wish at that point was to not make a complete fool of myself - to clap at the right time when bowing in, address the instructors appropriately, and to not be an embarrassment to my dojo or teacher. This time around, as a 4th kyu training for 18 months, I thought I should know something. Not in the "yeah, yeah, I already know how to do ikkyo" sense (I'm not that thick headed), but when I missed the point of an exercise at first, or failed to execute a technique as smoothly as I'd just seen demonstrated (or flat out screwed it up), I found I was kicking myself, thinking I should be able to do better. Many, many (many) times I had to remind myself that the instructors and almost everyone else on the mat have been doing this for much, much longer than I have. There's a little voice in my head, reminding me: "Patience, Grasshopper." 

People now have been asking me what I learned. It's hard to say. Yes, there were some cool new (to me) techniques, new (to me) ways of doing familiar techniques. There were reminders, about atemi, dealing with different energies, what-ifs, and so on. And there was a lot of really interesting work with the tanto.

It was a great opportunity to see and feel a lot of different kinds of ukemi. There had been a very good discussion going on AikiWeb about ukemi at seminars, and in particular one where Ikeda Sensei was teaching. So I had that on my mind, and was more aware of various styles and philosophies of ukemi than I would have been otherwise. Right from the start there was plenty to pay attention to. There was one person who repeatedly walked right through me, zombie-like, instead of doing the connection exercise we were shown. A couple of others basically launched themselves into breakfalls when I showed some intention of doing a technique. But the vast majority tried to give honest feedback - not fighting, but not letting me continue in ignorant bliss if I didn't have them. And many, bless their patient and generous hearts, coached me in being a better uke - in particular providing better attacks. Ukemi and connection was a major focus in Tissier Sensei's classes, with one really valuable exercise taking most of a 75 minute class. I like to think my ukemi got a little better from all this. A little... I hope.

Mostly, the seminar somehow seems to have left me more open, more receptive - left some cracks that let a little more light through. There's a kind of clarity and stillness, like when you can hear sounds you never noticed before after living in a quiet environment for a while. Or maybe it's more like the peaceful silence after a loud concert. It's hard to describe. The past couple of weeks at my own dojo have been particularly intense. My mind has been quieter, and I find I am hearing things in a new way. Exercises I've done before, words Sensei has said before, hold new levels of meaning, as if I were going back and re-reading a book I read as a child, and am finding that there was much more to it than I realized then. ("Oh... [I]That's [/I]what that whole scene was about...") Another layer of the infinitely-layered onion has been revealed.

---
p.s. There are several very short posts from the seminar, some with photos, on the [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com"]www.grabmywrist.com [/URL]version of my blog.]]></body>
	<date>01-28-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4104">
	<title><![CDATA[At the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar 2011]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm very fortunate that the [URL="http://sandiego.aikidobridge.com/schedule.aspx"]Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar [/URL]is held in San Diego at [URL="http://www.jiaiaikido.com/"]Jiai Aikido[/URL], where "travel" for me involves only a 40-minute commute. It starts this evening, and goes through Monday morning.

I'm sure I'll be writing up some blog posts here afterward, but during the seminar I'll be posting little bits and pieces from my phone each day, but only to the other version of this blog: [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/"]www.grabmywrist.com[/URL], so check that out, if you're so inclined.

I am looking forward to seeing the wonderful people I met last year, and making new friends, too! If you are there and want to get in touch, you can email me at:
[INDENT][B]lindaeskiniphone at gmail.com [/B]<< use the @ symbol, of course.[/INDENT]Or text or call me at [B]619 368-4333[/B]
See you there, or back here, or something. :-)]]></body>
	<date>01-13-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4102">
	<title><![CDATA[Uke and Schoolmasters]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[There is a very good discussion on the AikiWeb forums, about uke collusion in practice/training. It's particularly relevant for me, because I will be participating in the Aikido Bridge seminar later this week, where Ikeda Sensei will be teaching, and where there will be lots of opportunities for refining my own ukemi, and observing the ukemi of others.

One of the comments there, about how professional athletes train, brought something to mind: In horseback riding the relationship between the rider and the horse is very much like the relationship between Nage and Uke. 

The rider (Nage), through their cues, posture, weight shifts, placement of attention, and so on, is able to affect the balance and motion of the horse (Uke). It should not be a battle - it should be a partnership. They are not in opposition. Horse training essentially is training the horse to be a good uke - sensitive, not reactive, not anticipating, but moving as directed when the rider makes a request correctly. 

Of course, beginning riders are hopelessly uncoordinated about their weight, center, attention, posture, hands, feet, etc. A horse that refuses to budge, or who can't understand what is being asked, would only frustrate them. Thankfully there are talented, experienced, angelic horses referred to as "schoolmasters" who and understand, and who happily play along with these fumbling newbies. A good schoolmaster lets the rider get the feeling of what a correct trot, balanced halt, or smooth canter depart should feel like, even when the rider doesn't know how to ask perfectly yet. 

These horses, bless their hearts, can also perceive the skill level of their riders. While they may jog along sweetly for a little kid flopping around on their first ride, they may just as well require quite correct riding from someone more advanced.

In essence, the schoolmaster colludes, but only as much as is appropriate for the level of the rider. Pretty amazing ability, for a horse, but they do it regularly.

My understanding is that a good uke should provide that same kind of feedback to Nage. With a beginner, one may have to essentially guide them through the motion at first, by doing the ukemi as though Nage had performed the technique correctly, even if Nage didn't really have their center, or didn't take their balance. With a more advanced nage, feedback more along the lines of "Nope, I ain't goin', you don't have me" might be more appropriate. 

Of course, there are good-natured, willing horses who simply do not understand, perhaps through lack of experience, what the rider is trying to ask. And there are others who know exactly what the student is requesting of them, but who have a "betcha can't make me" attitude. The former may grow into happy and useful schoolmasters with experience. The latter will likely end up paired with riders who have similarly been trained in the "make 'em mind you" philosophy of horsemanship, where force, conflict, and opposition are just the way things are done.

As a human uke, I'd sure rather work toward being more like the schoolmaster.]]></body>
	<date>01-10-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4100">
	<title><![CDATA[Service and Community]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We've recently had a few project days at the dojo - a New Year's Cleaning Day before our first training of 2011, and yesterday re-stretching the mat cover, now that it's settled in after its first 6 months in use. And back in June and July we helped prepare the new location, move there, and clean up the old place.

It's one of things I really love about our dojo, and probably about martial arts schools in general, that it truly is a community, where people pitch in to help. That we [I]can [/I]pitch in and help. There's a sense of belonging and ownership that's comes from serving in that way, and it's available to everyone, of any rank. As a relative newbie who cannot contribute much else, personally, I really value that opportunity.

In so many of our other day-to-day experiences we pay our money, get what we paid for, and call it even. We are not allowed past the "Employees Only" signs. There are "No user serviceable parts inside." We are kept out, not authorized, not needed.

In a dojo, it's a community. When your neighbor is putting up a barn or their crop needs to be brought in before a storm, you don't wait to be asked, you pitch in and help. And sometimes you bring food, too. You get more out of service than you ever give, and more than you could ever pay for. It's how the community, your community, is created, and it's a privilege to be a part of it.]]></body>
	<date>01-09-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4099">
	<title><![CDATA[Happy New Year, 2011]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I hope everyone's holidays were peaceful and happy. Mine were laid back, no big deals. Some family, some friends, a great hike on New Year's Day… And we adopted two kitties, after being catless for a few months. All in all a nice time.

It's a new year, but there's nothing really new. The rhythms of seasons, work, and the dojo continue like heartbeats and breathing, regular and reassuring. Last year, 2010, was mostly wonderful. No big vacations, no winning the lottery. I ended the year healthier than I started it, which is great (and for which I credit my Aikido training - and not at all just the physical part). But the big thing is that the little things went well. Just regular daily life - meaningful, engaging work, things going pretty well for family and friends, and training more, and getting more out of it than I could have imagined at the start of the year, and thoroughly enjoying every minute.

Pauliina Lievonen, one of the team that writes The Mirror column on AikiWeb.com, posted this on her Facebook page at the end of the year:

[INDENT]"New year's resolution: More of the same. :-) "[/INDENT]That really hit the nail on the head. Sure, there's room for improvement. There are things I'd like to do better, goals to be met, etc. But all in all, I'm very happy, and looking forward to continuing on in the same way, as much as possible.

I hope your 2010 was like that. And whether it was or wasn't, I hope your 2011 is the kind of year that leaves you hoping for more of the same.]]></body>
	<date>01-09-2011</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4082">
	<title><![CDATA[Roll Model: Lloyd McClellan, Sho-Dan]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[We had a sho-dan promotion at our dojo recently, a 73 year-old gentleman named Lloyd McClellan. 

Lloyd's story is his to tell, but I'll share my own experience of Lloyd. 

When I started training, at 46, I read a few things by George Leonard Sensei. Leonard Sensei had also started Aikido at 46, I believe, and had written an essay titled "On Getting a Black Belt at Age Fifty-Two." He went on to become a 5th dan. I found these bits of information very heartening. 46 was not "too late." 

From my newbie perspective Lloyd has been training "forever." He is older, he is senior to me, and he is competent, kind, generous, a good teacher, and he's strong as an ox. Those things are great, and worthy of admiration, but didn't surprise me that someone who'd been training forever would have those qualities.

Lloyd is also a just plain cool guy. He wears a cowboy hat and a cowboy mustache, and he drives a pickup. It would surprise me if there weren't some cattle at some point that back up that hat. 

He knows his limits on the mat - he doesn't roll a lot, doesn't sit in seiza - but he doesn't let them stop him. I've seen him frustrated, tired, and in pain, but I've never seen him discouraged.

But the most impressive thing about Lloyd didn't really strike me until his sho-dan demo came up. Lloyd started training when he was 65. I don't know if it ever crossed his mind to ask himself "what am I thinking, starting a martial art at my age?" If it did, he didn't let it stop him. 

I want to be like Lloyd when I grow up.]]></body>
	<date>12-08-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4064">
	<title><![CDATA[&quot;Were you nervous?&quot;]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA["Your form was fine." Sensei said when he came to discussing my 4th-kyu test. He was giving us each feedback in the post-exam circle of promotion candidates. "Were you nervous?" he asked.

Huh... Nervous? I had felt really well prepared. I hadn't been afraid I would screw up any particular techniques (but of course I did anyway). I knew I was really focused. Intent on giving it my best. I had sort of half-assed my previous test (5th kyu), and had instantly wished I could've done it over - done it right. But there aren't do-overs on tests. This time I was doing my darnedest to nail it.

"Yeah..." I allowed, as best I can recall saying, "not totally freaked out, but I was probably a little nervous."

Liar.

I was totally freaked out. The weird thing is that I didn't recognize it. Sure, I made a couple of mistakes on jo suburi - the one thing I thought I really had down, and there was that one technique where my back heel came off the ground and I noticed my leg was shaking... I didn't recognize that I was nervous. It's not OK with me to be nervous. Nervous is fearful, uncertain, and weak. I don't get nervous.

What I did recognize was a feeling, one I'd had after my first and only piano recital as a teenager. I had played "Come Sail Away" by Styx. I played it just fine. But when I was done and sat down I had to ask someone how I'd done. It was like I hadn't even been there when I was playing. At the end of my test I'd had the same feeling. I thought I'd done basically OK, aside from a few dumb mistakes, but it was like I wasn't quite in the same room with my body when I was doing it.

Not present.

I was almost surprised, when I watched the video afterward, to see how many people were there on the mat. For the most part I'd been unaware of them. I think the walls of the dojo could have fallen away and I would not have noticed.

Unconscious.

Oops...

I have learned that Sensei sees right through me. When he offers what seems like a casual observation, it's worth taking a good look at it.

One of my reasons for practicing Aikido in the first place was to learn to stay present and relaxed in the face of overwhelming physical threat, and take effective action. Hmmm... Instead, in the face of a kind teacher, a supportive group of dojo mates and a limited set of techniques I had been reviewing and refining for weeks, I went away - out of my body and out of the room, was wound tight as a high E string, and screwed up things I knew like the back of my hand.

"Were you nervous?"  "Oh, wow... Yes, I really was!"

Sounds like I have something to work on.]]></body>
	<date>11-18-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4061">
	<title><![CDATA[4th Kyu Exam - Video]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[As promised:
[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fuGsMi4MhOQ"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fuGsMi4MhOQ[/URL]

A few rough edges. (Darnit, I do *so* know those jo techniques!) But on the whole I'm pretty satisfied. 

Even better I'm excited that I get to train in the 4th-kyu and up classes now. A chance to feel completely lost and incompetent all over again. :p]]></body>
	<date>11-13-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4059">
	<title><![CDATA[Aiki Football]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[One of the aspects of Aikido we are constantly exploring is that if an attacker or body does not perceive a threat (such as a strong grab or hard block) they will naturally not react defensively (or at all). Staying relaxed and soft can help the other person become relaxed and soft, too.

This football play by Driscoll Middle School is a great example of this idea in action:
[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UIdI8khMkw"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0UIdI8khMkw[/URL]

The guy with the ball doesn’t tuck his head and charge through the line, instead he walks through like he has no place special to be. It’s so soft, relaxed, and casual the whole opposing team fails to perceive the threat - until he starts to run, and then it’s too late. Freaking brilliant. (And legal, too.)]]></body>
	<date>11-11-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4055">
	<title><![CDATA[To 4th Kyu &amp; Beyond!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My exam for 4th kyu is one week from today. I'm excited, and starting to feel almost ready. I have gotten so much from my practice these past few months, and have been having a blast training.

Several of us who will be testing have been on the mat 4 to 5 days a week lately, staying late to train together after class, helping each other and working with our mentor, who has his hands full between me and two 3rd-kyu candidates. I've got a jump on the 3rd kyu test, at least, when I eventually get there! I've being doing ukemi for them when I can, and going through all the jo and bokken suburi that are on their test (mine are a subset of theirs). We've all learned and grown a lot together, and gotten closer as friends, too.

I am mentoring someone for the first time, too. She will be testing for 6th kyu, and I will be her uke. She is a joy to work with, and I'm looking forward to her test!

Since my 5th kyu exam in February I have trained 143 days (so far), helped with moving the dojo to our really nice new location, trained in two seminars - Robert Nadeau Shihan, and Mary Heiny Sensei - and assisted with the logistics of the latter. I've participated in two Aikido In Focus workshops with Sensei, watched a lot of exams, and enjoyed several dojo parties. I've gotten more comfortable with working with brand-new beginners, doing my best to provide ukemi that lets them get the feel of techniques - or at least doesn't get in their way. I've been having way too much fun practicing my first breakfalls. Woohoo-whoosh-thump!

Because it's a question a lot of people ask, yes, there is a colored belt associated with 4th kyu: Blue. There is no universal meaning to belt colors in Aikido. At our dojo 6th-5th are white, 4th-3rd are blue, and 2nd-1st at brown. Until just a couple of years ago our dojo went with the more traditional white for every rank until you get to shodan (first black belt). But it's helpful, especially for brand new students who don't know everyone yet, to have some indication of the level of proficiency of the person they are working with. 

Rank for its own sake is not important to me. I will be the same person, doing my best (and screwing up, too), no matter what. But rank sometimes does have its privileges; 4th-kyu students and up can participate in the advanced classes on Monday and Thursday nights. I've been watching them lately, sometimes glad I have the luxury of just observing, but more often itching to get out there and play, too. Soon... :-) On Monday, November 15, actually. Not that I'm counting. ;-)

The months ahead are full of even more exciting things!

In December we will have a student doing his shodan demonstration. I always enjoy training with him, and benefit from his feedback. He's a lot of fun, doesn't let me get away with ineffective technique, and he's strong as an ox. He's also 73. He has a few limitations, but does not let them stop him or ruin his fun. He has been training his butt off lately. I wanna be like him when I grow up!

In January I will be training in the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar for the second time. It's 5 days with Ikeda, Tissier, and Doran Shihan, plus several guest instructors. I really enjoyed it last time, and met a lot of very nice people - many of whom I've keep in touch with on Facebook throughout the year. I am looking forward to seeing then again, and meeting others, too.

In February Patrick Cassidy Sensei from Aikido Montreux in Switzerland will be coming to Aikido of San Diego over the Presidents Day weekend. I've heard only great things about his teaching! He comes to our dojo about once every other year, and I just missed him when I started training 18 months ago. So this will be my first time getting to train with him.

March through May are blessedly quiet. Time to just train. Get into a steady rhythm and let it all settle in. Play with Rainy the horse more as the days get longer, and maybe build those raised veggie and herb gardens I keep promising myself.

In June I am planning to go to the 35th Annual Aiki Summer Retreat at Menlo Park for the first time. It is a week-long live-in camp at a college - Sunday evening through Saturday morning! The dates & instructors aren't up yet, but last year it was in mid-June, with Ikeda, Doran, and Nadeau Shihan, and Mary Heiny Sensei as a guest teacher. If you're going to be there, drop me a note, although I'm sure we'll meet each other in any case. If you're from Aikido of San Diego, think about going! People from our dojo, including Sensei, have gone before, and I'd love to get a group together for this year. It's a cheap vacation, and a heck of an opportunity.

Whew... That's what's on the horizon. Fun times ahead. Lucky me. :-)

If I don't post again before my test it's because I'm busy training. Or icing things. Or stretching. Or sleeping. Or drilling myself on the names of the weapons techniques so I don't forget them under pressure. And trying to remember to go to the wrist, the wrist, the wrist, not the elbow, in nikyo ura. Oh yeah, and breathing. In other words, having entirely too much fun.]]></body>
	<date>11-06-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4054">
	<title><![CDATA[If you respect people…]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I ran across this quote recently, and quite liked it, especially in light of some recent conversations about Aikido. At first it seemed in line with the fairly mean-spirited “Stupidity Should Be Painful” sticker on my guitar case. But on further reflection it’s much more compassionate - about expecting the best of those around you. 

[INDENT]"Most people accept stupidity and incompetence in every form they come across because they would rather be seen as easy-going and friendly than to get what they pay for and want. But the really easy-going and friendly people are found where _competence_ is rewarded, stupidity is an accident to be ignored, and incompetence has a cause worth fixing. If you _actually_ care for the people around you, you don’t allow them to be stupid, and if you _respect_ people, you are not afraid to have zero respect or tolerance for (some of) their actions."[/INDENT]
[URL="http://www.xach.com/naggum/articles/3184839641292968@naggum.net.html"][I]Erik Naggum [/I][/URL](RIP)]]></body>
	<date>11-06-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4051">
	<title><![CDATA[Rivers and Stars]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I was benched by a cold tonight. Darnit. And Tuesdays are my favorite nights, too. Waah! Not too a big deal, I know. It will pass, and I'll be back on the mat soon enough. Just the same, there was the gnawing undercurrent to the evening, knowing I was missing something important and irreplaceable.

In so much of my learning life there are second chances. I can read a book again, watch a movie as many times as I like, review meeting or class notes, catch a webinar or conference presentation later online, search email for a keyword and bring up everything I've ever communicated about that subject. It's easy to scan an article or report, knowing I can look it up later if we really need it.

Not so with Aikido. When I miss something, it's gone. As ephemeral as a sunrise. Wild, undomesticatable knowledge, transmitted person-to-person, body-to-body. I've only been training for a year and a half, but in that time I have heard virtually none of the same things repeated. Yes, a lot of the same techniques, but never shown or explained in quite the same way. There has not been a single moment when I've thought "Oh, this again. We already went over this." There is always something precious conveyed. Every class is inspired - and inspriing. Hence the frustration at missing an evening.

Heraclitus said: 

[INDENT]“No man ever steps in the same river twice, for it's not the same river and he's not the same man.”[/INDENT]

Billy Collins, former U.S. Poet Laureate described the situation perfectly in his poem [URL="http://daphne.palomar.edu/makins/did_i_miss_anything.htm"]"Did I Miss Anything?" [/URL]I highly recommend reading it. Here's an excerpt:

[INDENT]"Did I Miss Anything?
...

Everything. Contained in this classroom
is a microcosm of human experience
assembled for you to query and examine and ponder
This is not the only place such an opportunity has been gathered

but it was one place

And you weren't here."[/INDENT]



Sigh...

So tonight, after an evening wasted puttering around feeling puny and restless and sorry for myself, I made my evening visit to feed the donkeys before bed. It's about 70 degrees outside, with a crystal clear sky, moonless and starry. Orion is a little higher in the east than last night, and the night before that.

Eeyore and Clementine were happy to have their dinner - especially their carrots. While they were crunching away I stared up at the stars on this perfectly beautiful night. Good old reliable stars right where they should be, like they always have been, and always will be.

And another thought came to mind. Like the stars, Aikido will always be there. It will always be available to me in some form, and I will always be able to practice it in some way. I will never be able to see and understand it all, but the opportunity to keep looking and wondering will never go away.

I like that thought.]]></body>
	<date>11-03-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4046">
	<title><![CDATA[Humor &amp; Humiliation]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I have long suspected that that is an Instructors' Course at Aikido Summer Camps or Association Meetings where teachers learn techniques for making us laugh at ourselves (and cringe a little), to improve our technique and awareness, or jar us out of habitual patterns of thinking.

Every Aikido teacher I've encountered - Sensei, the yudansha at our dojo, and visiting teachers alike - to the best of my recollection, has used pointed humor and sometimes pretty stern shaming in their teaching. Mostly it's really funny, and often includes some very good physical comedy. And it drives the point home like a nail gun.

"This is what some of you look like. I'm exaggerating, but only a little." 

I have to laugh, and at the same time *facepalm* I see that once again I have let my arm trail behind my center in a tenkan, or completely forgotten to hold Uke's shoulder down when setting up the pin for sankyo. D'oh!

One whap upside the head I received in a recent one-on-one session on suwariwaza was "They call it 'knee walking' not 'duck walking'." The teacher, whose natural, flowing, centered shikko is an inspiration, then proceeded to show me exactly what my "duck walking" looked liked. Oh no... It was both mortifying and very funny.

A teacher could very "politely and respectfully" explain the rationale, physics, and anatomy behind their instructions, and demonstrate again the "preferred" way we should be working toward, blah, blah, blah... But that's explaining, not training.

By poking fun the message gets through loud and clear. Even though the "duck walking" correction was softened with gentle humor I was still very motivated to never get caught moving that way again. Ever. Yikes.

I'd love to be a fly on the wall in that Instructors' Course some day. I'll bet it's hilarious.]]></body>
	<date>10-23-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4043">
	<title><![CDATA[Being seen, and seeing]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[There are many times when I am struck with gratitude for my teacher. Here is a man who has trained in Aikido for many years, who is a perceptual genius, and who has devoted himself to sharing the art with his students.

The physical experience of training with him is that of being enveloped - utterly controlled, and completely safe. The emotional sense is one of total freedom to try, fail, and learn, again completely safe, trusting.

That is not to say it’s all sweetness and nice, painless, or comfortable. Sensei sees through pretense, to the heart of the matter, and is willing to be direct and honest. Sometimes a seemingly off-hand comment cuts deep. My initial reflexive reaction is to defensively discount it as a moment of temper or frustration perhaps, or simply something misperceived. “That’s not so.” “I am not like that.” “He’s wrong.”

But it’s probably true that more it stings, the more accurate it is, and the harder I’ve been trying to hide it. 

I’ve learned to allow for the possibility, even in my initial denial (which I now recognize as automatic, and meaninless), that there may be some truth there. “What did I do, or how was I being, that created that perception?” Of course, there is no differentiation between how I am perceived and who I am really. There is no “real us” that the world never sees. There is only how we come across to others.

It’s a privilege to work with someone who sees so clearly. No one has ever had such faith in me to be open to straight, direct coaching, has been so unphased by honest communication, or so committed to helping me find my own way, with no expectations or obligations imposed. He helps me to see who I am.]]></body>
	<date>10-20-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4040">
	<title><![CDATA[How am I limiting myself?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I have posted about past [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/focus.htm"]Aikido In Focus workshops[/URL]. They are held at our dojo, and led by [URL="http://www.goldbergsensei.com/"]Dave Goldberg Sensei[/URL]. Each (as the name suggests) focuses on one aspect of Aikido. I've done all that have been offered since joining the dojo, and each its own way has been life changing.

My first, just over a year ago, was called "Relax, It's Aikido." You can [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/206547974/relax-its-aikido"]read about my experience of that workshop here[/URL]. The work we did in that short morning session let me see there was a whole way of being I had unconsciously walled myself off from, and allowed me to regain access to that way of experiencing life.

So here we are with another workshop coming up this weekend. I signed up for it weeks ago. I'm looking forward to it in the way one might normally reserve for going skydiving, or doing a ropes course: Excited, nervous, hopeful, maybe a little scared, giddy... I try to balance this against the reality that this is just a 2-1/2 hour one-time thing, with one very human sensei leading it, and a varied handful of students. Who knows how it might go. I try to not get my hopes up about what could be accomplished in so short a time. But then my past experiences tell me that significant insights and changes are possible.

Here is the subject of this workshop:

[INDENT][B]In what ways am I getting in my own way?
How am I limiting myself?
What should I be "looking at" in my own practice?[/B][/INDENT]

Interesting. I don't feel frustrated or stuck. I haven't been on a plateau. I'm preparing for my upcoming 4th kyu test. I'm enjoying training - especially working with the brand-new newbies. I feel like I've been making decent progress. I don't feel limited, or like I'm getting in my own way. Of course, I don't suppose I'd see it on my own, even if I were, now would I?

Past Aikido In Focus workshops have been recorded on video, which we review together at the end. This one will not be. Instead it is to be a very personal training process, requiring "an open-minded and mature approach from each participant." Hmmm...

It's possible I will learn that I'm pretty much on the right track, and I should just keep up the good work. It's more likely, however, that I will get my ass handed to me in one way or another.

In any case, I've been living in the question, "How am I limiting myself?" At the same time, I'm not trying to figure out in advance what I might discover. My experience of these workshops is never what I expect, and what I've learned about myself has usually had little to do with the stated subject. So I'll just go.

I have no idea what I will discover, or if I will share here what I learn about myself. Whatever's there, I'm open to seeing it.]]></body>
	<date>10-19-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="4003">
	<title><![CDATA[A Mysterious Gift]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Sometimes my brain seems like hard, dry ground. If too much information is poured onto it, a lot runs off, and down the gutter. More soaks in from a gentle rain than from a fire hose. Even so, it sometimes sits in pools for days before it settles into the soil. Eventually the ground softens, and some time later I begin to notice hints of green. Tiny leaves of knowledge, sprouting.

Sometimes bits of information are more like ping-pong balls, fired from all directions. I see them all, but can only grab so many before they bounce away. I might notice that several went off into a corner, and I can go and collect them later, but many more escape. 

And then there are times like tonight, when something precious is gently offered. I accept it with both hands, not sure what it is, and hold it as tightly as I dare, for fear of dropping it. It seems fragile, and important. Rare. I turn it this way and that in the light, feel the roughness and smoothness of it, and listen for any sound. Perhaps if I sit quietly enough, and look into it long enough, I will understand its message.]]></body>
	<date>08-24-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3999">
	<title><![CDATA[Practicing Love]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[One of my horsey friends, [URL="http://www.lisaillichmann.com/"]Lisa Illichmann[/URL], posted this yesterday in a discussion thread about some ongoing hatefulness or other in the popular media. This is so well stated, and relates so well to Aikido training, that I asked her if I might share it here. (And she said that I may.)

[B]“Anger, like any strong emotion, is addictive. We actually begin to enjoy the rush of anger (which really is only a form of fear), it makes us feel right - some injustice has been done to us - and this, of course, makes the others wrong. 

Interestingly enough, the same is true with strong feelings of love. We can just as easily become addicted to the rush of love. And more interesting, both of these emotions can be trained, honed and perfected. All we need is conscious practice in order to go from fear to love. (Emphasis is on the word “conscious.”)”[/B]

For me, the dojo is the place to practice. And make a little change. And practice. And fall back into familiar patterns, and see that, under the magnifying glass of Aikido. And practice some more. “…conscious practice in order to go from fear to love.” So well put.

Frank Doran Sensei says simply, and to the point, [B]“Practice kindness.”[/B]

[URL="http://www.goldbergsensei.com/post/967610583/todays-so-desu-ne-moment"]Dave Goldberg Sensei says, in his most recent blog post[/URL], [B]“Love is the glue between Yin and Yang—Uke and Nage. If you let the glue set and harden you lose the qualities that make your Aikido compassionate. You will not be a protector of *both* Uke and Nage. Keep the glue alive and vibrant so that it will stick to anything.”[/B]

O-Sensei is quoted as having said [B]“True budo is a work of love. It is a work of giving life to all beings, and not killing or struggling with each other. Love is the guardian deity of everything. Nothing can exist without it. Aikido is the realization of love.”[/B]

Practice, practice, practice…]]></body>
	<date>08-21-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3990">
	<title><![CDATA[Meditation in the New Dojo]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The same ocean breeze is here, warmed and softened as it made its way inland up nine miles of wide river valley, Still familiar, but stronger near these hills on the north side, it wanders in through the broad half-open door. The bright high note of two small bells invites us to settle deeply into sitting, breathing.

The river to our west flows in silence, but the distant freeway's roar could be a river's roar. Breathe. Spiraling fans above confuse and redirect the breeze. Inhale. The river-scented air expands our lungs and our awareness. We sit on what was fertile bottomland a hundred years ago. Exhale. Settle.

The breeze touches our necks and lightly strokes our hair, like a lonely ghost glad to find company. An empty tanker truck rumbles and bounces down the road. Inhale. Inspire. Inspiration. Breathing.

The soft mat and the hard floor and the fertile soil and the flowing river cradle us, sitting, eyes closed, in their open palms.

The mission's bell, still just a whisper here, sounds more urgent on this side of the valley. It calls the farmers in from their fields as it has for centuries, not knowing they are long gone, the farmers, and their fields too.  Exhale, and let them go. We cultivate something else here now. Our work nourishes the spirit.

The two small bells guide us back as the mission's bell falls silent. The breeze remembers its direction and continues, through another door and up the valley.]]></body>
	<date>08-11-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3989">
	<title><![CDATA[Rediscovering Joy]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Amazed at the joy available in Aikido. 
[I]I mean, WTH?[/I]

Breathless, smiling-for-no-reason joy.
[I]Joy for no reason.[/I]

Excited-to-get-up-in-the-morning joy.
[I]Joy in everything.[/I]

Full of energy, comfortable in my body.
[I]Embodied joy.[/I]

Settled mind, leaping heart, yearning.
[I]Forgotten joy.[/I]

A song you loved and hear again.
[I]Every word a friend.[/I]

New messages, new meanings, new joy.
[I]Listening anew.[/I]

Fresh ears, fresh eyes, an open mind.
[I]Fresh joy.[/I]

An open body in clear air. Connection.
[I]Love in motion.[/I]]]></body>
	<date>08-11-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3984">
	<title><![CDATA[Back to work]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A few months ago I said I felt "[URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/612508684/bread-dough"]Like Bread Dough[/URL]," letting things settle in as a new 5th kyu. I decided to allow myself to spend some time just showing up and training. I have indeed been doing that, while mostly concentrating on other things - training my horse, getting some health questions answered, helping move the dojo, and doing my work and a few house projects. While some of those things are still ongoing, I've found that lack of focus on my Aikido rather unfulfilling, and now I'm eager to get back to work. Looking forward to class tonight!]]></body>
	<date>08-09-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3940">
	<title><![CDATA[A Tree in a Hurricane]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've had a bit of a scare recently. I will not be fine (who among us will be, really?), but I'm a lot better off than I feared. 

The past week was difficult. I had just started outlining a twenty-year plan for my life and career from 47 to 67. I'd ordered a stack of interesting books, and made a list of mentors to talk to. There were things to learn, possibilities to investigate... Exciting stuff.

Then I stumbled onto what sounded like some very bad news during a routine physical. Suddenly the future didn't look like it was going to be much fun. I don't scare easily, but I've never been so afraid.

It was like being in a hurricane, struck by new information and realizations like 2x4s hurled in the wind. In that hurricane, Aikido was the deeply-rooted tree I was clinging to. Friday night's class (see my previous post about it) could not have come at a better time or been more perfect. (How does Sensei do that?) Everything I've learned about meditation, breathing, staying present, being in my body, moving in, keeping my center... It all came into play. On Monday, when I should have been up in the mountains training my horse, I arranged for him to be turned out to play, and went to the dojo instead. Clinging to my sturdy tree. Another two classes last night kept me grounded.

Today I got test results that added up to very good news. More tests ahead, and ongoing management. But I was already doing that.

Aikido is probably the best thing I could have been doing for the past year, and into the future, both physically and emotionally. I had cut back recently to 3 days a week to spend more time with Rainy. But I'm going to try to go at least 4 days, 5 when I can, at least for now. Something else will have to give. Maybe I'll have to hire a trainer to work with Rainy during the week.

This whole adventure has been a good reminder. Treasure every moment. Take nothing for granted. Don't put things off. I'm so glad I went to that 5-day seminar at the start of the year, that I've been able to train so much, that I'm working regularly with my horse, that I spend lots of time with my husband having fun together, that I do rewarding work I enjoy, that I spend time in nature... There are a few things I need to be doing more - that I shouldn't be putting off. Someone said "it's not the things we do that we regret, but the things we do not do." When you have opportunities to do what you love, take them. You never know if you'll have the chance later. 

Right now I have every expectation that I will continue to have those chances. <whew!> So it's back to crafting that twenty-year plan, moving forward, with optimism. It will definitely include Aikido. Right after I go out for dinner and walk with the love of my life.]]></body>
	<date>05-26-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3938">
	<title><![CDATA[Good Ukemi and Life]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Life lessons from last night's class, in which Sensei focused on good ukemi in freestyle:
[LIST]
[*]Be present in your body.
[*]Don't move, or take a fall, in anticipation of what you think is coming.
[*]Feel what's actually happening.
[*]Stay soft and responsive. 
[*]Spring back the moment the pressure is off.
[*]Keep your integrity. 
[*]You have more power in the situation when you have a solid base.
[*]Keep moving. Do something. Don't just stand there and wait for the attack to come.
[*]By choosing how you invite the attack, you will be better able to deal with it.
[*]If your balance is really taken, go with it. Make the new direction yours. Own it. 
[*]Keep your center, and be ready to respond to openings for reversals.
[/LIST]

Important points to take to heart, in Aikido and in everything.

Along those same lines, via my friend William Cummings on Facebook yesterday:
[I]"I am an old man and have known a great many troubles , but most of them never happened ."[/I]
- Mark Twain]]></body>
	<date>05-22-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3936">
	<title><![CDATA[Like Bread Dough]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've really been enjoying training lately, even though I have been at the dojo somewhat less to make time to work with Rainy, my horse. I look forward to classes like a kid on Christmas morning. I'm having fun with Rainy, and we're progressing well, but I miss Aikido on the days I don't go.  

The connections and similarities between Aikido and horsemanship go much deeper than I had expected. That will be the subject of my next column for "The Mirror" on AikiWeb, in June. I'm constantly making wonderful discoveries in that area, and hearing virtually the same words from my horsemanship teacher and Sensei. There have been a few jaw-dropping moments with each where all I could think was "did I really just hear them say that?"

For most of this spring, summer, and probably fall I am in a really wonderful place with respect to dojo life. I'm not close to testing (my next exam will be for 4th kyu), and I'm not advanced enough to mentor others. I don't have any seminars coming up. Nothing in particular is expected of me. I feel like bread dough that's been left in a warm, quiet place to rise. The ingredients are all there, and well mixed. There's nothing to do but let them expand and mature. Just train.

I can almost feel the synapses in my brain making new connections, as the discrete skills and pieces of information I've accumulated over the past year weave themselves together. Recently, after being off the mat for a few weeks with a minor muscle strain I felt like I'd been away forever. I was sure I'd forgotten half of what I barely knew in the first place. But there it was. My body remembered.

This kind of somatic learning has been a very interesting new experience, and something I am beginning to explore in more depth. It's fascinating being the one it's happening to, and sort of watching it from the the inside.

While I do enjoy the intensity of working toward an exam, or being ready for an upcoming event, training with no particular goal is very pleasant and rewarding. I feel more able to explore different aspects of techniques, focus on ukemi, and be satisfied with improving and ingraining. Refining and deepening my understanding, rather than accumulating new pieces of information. I've also been watching how others teach, because from 4th kyu onward there's the possibility of being asked to mentor others who are preparing for their tests.

Because I have no responsibilities, I've been free to take on other little things. Cleaning this or that, bringing flowers for the shomen from time to time, getting video of some exams, and so on. We will be moving the dojo to a new location in July, and I'm looking forward to helping with that however I can.

But mostly I'm just enjoying training.]]></body>
	<date>05-19-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3927">
	<title><![CDATA[Milestone: One Year in Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I am celebrating the completion of my first year in Aikido by staying home and fighting off a cold. I really wanted to be on the mat tonight. Instead I have the opportunity to practice writing with only half my brain engaged. My apologies if I ramble.

It's hard to believe it's already been a year, but it also seems like a lifetime. In some ways, it has been a lifetime. I am not the same person I was when I first stepped onto the mat.

It would be impossible to overstate my gratitude and admiration for my teacher, [URL="http://www.goldbergsensei.com"]Dave Goldberg Sensei[/URL]. He passes on the touch of the founder through his technique, speaks our dojo community into existence, and embodies a safe space for discovery and transformation. He demonstrates that one can be vulnerable and strong, gentle and effective, trusting, allowing, patient, generous... These have been more powerful lessons than any exercise or technique I've learned.

I have trained 155 days. I've participated in seminars and workshops. There was a dojo retreat, picnic, exam days, lunches, and parties. I've learned a little about Japanese culture and language, martial ethics and history, and met the most wonderful people. I reached my goal of losing 40 pounds, and on the whole am much healthier (the present cold notwithstanding) and stronger. I've developed some discipline in other areas where I had been, frankly, a slob about things. I still have a long way to go.

I've tested for 6th and 5th kyu. Whoever said your first test is the hardest one was right, I think. But I need to guard against overconfidence. I forgot how fully I threw myself into training up to 6th kyu, and did not train as well as I might have as my 5th kyu test approached. Yes, I trained a lot, but not with the same focus and attention as at the beginning. I've been trying to reclaim that, while allowing the process of learning to happen, like healing, in its own good time.

I came to Aikido hoping to develop skills that would help me in my riding and horsemanship. So far, so good, in those terms. But it has gone so much deeper than just those skills, in directions I never anticipated. I have been experiencing how one learns motor skills, and watching how to teach in that realm. I now have my horse, Rainy, boarded where I can work with him regularly through the summer, with a great teacher, in the company of others on that same path. It has only been a few weeks, and already we are making more progress than in the past two years. If I've been a little behind in my blogging, it's because I've been at the barn.

I came to Aikido determined and fearless, and have learned to temper those qualities with patience and judgment. I've learned to notice and treasure the cycles and rhythms of dojo life. I discovered that I really like training with weapons, and meditating. I've learned to be a little more gentle with myself, let my mind be a bit quieter, to allow others more space and time to be who they are.

Touching and being touched, even being hit or held, was never a problem. But it took me a while to get comfortable with watching people. At first it felt awkward to even casually look on as techniques were demonstrated, never mind openly studying another's body, movement, and posture. It seemed rude, intrusive, and inappropriate. Now it's an aesthetic delight and a source of wonder, like hearing beautiful music, and learning to pick out the bass lines and sing the harmonies.

After a lifetime of doing my best to dismiss what my body and emotions had to say, I have begun to allow myself to feel, and to acknowledge that feelings have legitimacy. I have discovered a whole world of somatic psychology, body work, motor learning, and conscious embodiment that I had never been aware of, and am finding it fascinating. My skeptical, literal, rational brain would have dismissed most of it a year ago, but enough direct experience tends to shut down those objections pretty soundly.

Robert Nadeau Shihan, my teacher's teacher, when discussing dimensions of ourselves in our recent seminar, said "You don't know who you are, really." New dimensions reveal new aspects of ourselves. I've been catching glimpses. Some have been surprising. Each has felt a little like coming home - right, familiar, and comfortable.

On one of my first visits to the dojo someone asked me "So, how long are you going to do Aikido?" It seemed like such an odd question that I couldn't even form an answer. I'm sure I just gave a confused stare. The answer was then, as it is now, "For the rest of my life."

OK, Earth, take us for another spin around the Sun. Let's see what there is to see on this trip.]]></body>
	<date>05-04-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3898">
	<title><![CDATA[Learning to Be a Better Uke]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[One of the yudansha who teaches at our dojo, Cyril, uses a variety of people as Uke when he demonstrates techniques. It makes classes that much more intense, because you never know when or if you'll be called up, so you'd best pay sharp attention.

Learning to be a good uke is really important to me, for a lot of reasons. A lot of the most valuable learning in Aikido comes from ukemi. Like learning to move with and into the energy and situation, rather than fighting against it, for instance, not as a way of giving up, but to keep one's center and regain balance. Being a good uke isn't just falling, it includes providing committed attacks so one's partner can practice effectively. Ukemi seems to be where I find growth and discovery happening, more than in practicing techniques as Nage.

So I'm grateful every time I'm called up to help demonstrate a technique. Even when (and it seems to be the case more often than not) I screw it up in some spectacular way, and have to be shown what was wanted. Although he is incredibly gracious about it, I hate being incompetent. Crawling under a rock has sounded like a good plan on a few occasions.  

I learned early on, however, that abject humiliation, even in front of the whole class, will not kill me. The only thing to do is shake it off, note the correction, focus, and do better the next time. 

Actually, I'm grateful for the correction, and for the fact that even after I screw something up pretty thoroughly, I'm called up again. He doesn't get mad, and he doesn't give up on people. I thanked Cyril last night for his "persistent and good-humored attempts to help me become a better uke."

If I pay close enough attention to how he gently guides and redirects students it could help me become a better teacher, and better person, too.]]></body>
	<date>04-01-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3889">
	<title><![CDATA[Body, Border Collies, &amp; Beer]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Every month or two Sensei offers an [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/focus.htm"]Aikido In Focus workshop [/URL]at the dojo. This time the subject was jiyuwaza, or freestyle. One-on-one practice, using whatever techniques are appropriate to the circumstances. Jiyuwaza is great fun. It's also a source of endless frustration because I get in my head and freeze up trying to think of what I should do next, instead of going with the energy given to me by my training partner. I go to these workshops regardless, because they are always a valuable experience. But an In Focus workshop on the "free" in freestyle? Heck yes, sign me up. 

Aside from being familiar with the format and the topic of the workshop, I had no preconceptions or expectations. Honestly, I hadn't even had time to think about it.

Every time I go to the dojo I take a few minutes on the way there to consider what I would like to get out of the experience. My hope for today was that I could let myself be open enough to get it.

I got to the dojo, warmed up, and bowed in.

These workshops are really experiential. You feel them. They get into your muscle memory and emotions. It would be very hard to write up any kind of synopsis. What it looked like was about a dozen people on the mat, talking briefly at first, moving into a standing body-awareness exercise, and then on to slow and simple, then progressively faster and more complex, partner practices that ended with people doing some really nice, flowing, centered freestyle. At the end we sat on the mat around a television, and watched video of our practice, critiqued ourselves, and got feedback from Sensei and the other participants. That's not telling you much, but that's what it looked like. 

And a Lamborghini looks like a car. Y'know, doors, wheels, an engine...

The first of several "Aha!" moments for me came during an exercise we've done quite a lot. We walk around the mat at random, and randomly settle into a grounded, centered, aligned stance for a few moments. Then back to walking, and settle again. And then continuing with circling and settling. I had not realized it, but I'd been patterning. I had been alternating right/left foot forward in the stance I settled into. No big deal. 

Wendy Palmer Sensei, in her book [B]The Intuitive Body - Discovering the Wisdom of Conscious Embodiment and Aikido [/B]speaks of the mind being like a puppy, running off, investigating everything, sniffing around... Through the practice of body awareness she describes in the book, we learn to lovingly call our puppy-mind back to sit quietly at our side for longer and longer periods. 

If the mind is a puppy, mine was a Border Collie this morning. Border Collies are herding dogs. They have a clear idea of How Things Should Be, and they actively work to make them be that way. If the cows get out, into Some Place Cows Should Not Be, a Border Collie will get upset, and will go herd them back into their pasture.

This morning, in that first simple walking-circling-settling exercise, a space that opened up on the mat in front of me called for circling to the right. So I did. My Border Collie puppy-mind was instantly beside itself! "Woof, woof, woof!" We had just circled to the right the previous time, so we were (according to the pattern I did not know I had adopted) supposed to circle the left this time!

Thanks to the work we had just done on getting into our bodies I had done what there was to do. I was able to notice, from a somewhat detached perspective, that my mind was going off about it. I had not thought about it first, and then rejected the option of circling to the right. I just circled. 

It was a little thing, tiny, but significant. I felt the space. I moved without checking in with my mind. I noticed my thoughts, but they carried no weight. I was thrilled. 

One point Sensei brought up that stuck with me is that we can't "stop thinking so much." The mind just goes on thinking. Thinking about trying to think less doesn't make for less thinking. Instead, Sensei suggested that we focus on being present in the body.

The exercises at the start of the class were to help us get into our bodies. I should make a habit of doing them every morning.  We've done them before, in other workshops, and they have a profound effect on me. I find I'm more open and aware, quieter, more balanced... It's a state that's incompatible with frantic rushing about. Time moves more slowly. I'm able to more fully experience whatever it is I'm doing at the moment. Peripheral vision expands. It's the calm that comes from being in nature. It's a state I usually only get to after a week-long vacation. I'd like to get there more.

Near the end of the workshop, when my partner and I were waiting our turn on the mat in front of the rest of the group, there was a minor injury. Everything stopped, people went to help, and ice packs were brought out. The person was made comfortable on the mat where they could continue watching, and the next pair was called up. 

I noticed an interesting thing: Whatever that state was that I'd been in for the past hour and a half was shattered. I had been feeling relaxed, confident, and looking forward to our turn to "play" just moments before. But now suddenly found I was right back into thinking about what techniques I'd do, and worrying that I'd freeze up. And there was something physical, too. Some new awareness, or something missing... I'm not sure. It was like snapping out of hypnosis and wondering why you're standing on a stage in front of all these people, holding a microphone.

The good news is that, having just been in a better place, I recognized that I was not there now. Sitting there, I went back to the exercises from the start of class, feeling the mat supporting me, doing an inventory of tensions and sensations throughout my body. I was mostly able to get back to that place. 

You know how it is when you crack open a beer after a long day? The "pssst" when the cap lets go? The cold condensation and wet glass and label against your palm? You lift the bottle, and immediately relax a little. "Ahhhh... Life is good..." Your problems seem a little less troubling, and your friends seem a little more dear. The beer has done nothing at this point. It's all you. A conditioned response. You can jump into that zone on just a few cues. I have the same kind of experience when I step onto the mat before classes in the evening. Everything else from the day drifts off on the breeze, and there is only the present reality of the dojo. This is something I'd like to explore with getting to the state of being that was evoked in the workshop. With practice, it should be available more quickly, naturally. We have the skill to make that shift. We do it automatically and unintentionally all the time. I'm going to play with doing it intentionally.

I spent the rest of the day quietly doing errands and chores, reflecting, feeling what there was to feel, and wondering in gratitude at the privilege of working with such a gifted teacher and guide. I am always amazed at what can be experienced in only a short two hours. Often these workshops take days to sink in. I can still feel the energy resonating. There's more there.]]></body>
	<date>03-22-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3873">
	<title><![CDATA[Sen-sei]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I got the book “Holding the Center - Sanctuary in a Time of Confusion” by Richard Strozzi-Heckler recently. I finally picked it up to begin reading it last night, and randomly opened it to this paragraph, in the chapter on Teachership:

[INDENT][I]“The kanji for sensei is a man leading an ox by a nose ring. This indicates that through wisdom and intelligence a teacher is able to guide even that which is difficult and resistant. Sen depicts the earth giving birth to a plant, which in turn yields a flower or fruit. From this image we are reminded that life comes from life, that learning and growth come from a living transmission. Sei is often spoken of as Heaven, Human, and Earth united to create something new and useful. With the symbols placed together, sensei or teacher is someone who has more experience than us, whose consciousness is more expanded, who has walked before us on the path that we are now on, and who embodies a vision of the world that is more powerful than the one we now live in. Sensei is able to guide students on the steps that are necessary for them to gain proficiency in a specific discourse. A teacher is someone willing to cultivate our own life so that it will bear fruit.” [/I][/INDENT]

While the explanation of the symbols escapes me*, the sentiment rings true. The entire chapter is a very interesting look at what it is to be a teacher.

*Specifically, is it a man leading an ox, or a fruiting plant, and human/heaven/earth? Or does one of those explanations refer only to the symbols, and the other to the meanings associated with the pronunciations? I've done all the Googling I can, and have come up with no other references (besides those quoting this book) to the man leading an ox idea. The first symbol in the kanji for sensei looks a little like the symbol for an ox, maybe...? I hope someone who understands Japanese and kanji will comment and clear that up.]]></body>
	<date>03-13-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3862">
	<title><![CDATA[Questions for My Teacher's Teacher]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My teacher's teacher is coming to our dojo in April. My teacher, Dave Goldberg Sensei, is a student of Robert Nadeau Shihan. [URL="http://aikidosd.com/nadeau_seminar.htm"]Nadeau Shihan will be leading a seminar at Aikido of San Diego, April 9-11, 2010.[/URL]

Nadeau Shihan, 7th Dan, trained in Japan with O Sensei in the 1960s. He has been teaching Aikido since 1965. He runs two dojo: Aikido of Mountain View, and City Aikido in San Francisco. His students have included several of my favorite Aikido authors: George Leonard, Wendy Palmer, and Richard Strozzi-Heckler Sensei. He is a founder and division head (Division 3) of the California Aikido Association. It is an honor to have him come to work with us.

I had the privilege of training with Nadeau Shihan last year, before I'd even tested for 6th kyu, and very much enjoy and "get" his approach to teaching. I'm really looking forward to training with him again, now that I have a tiny bit more experience and perspective.

This year, Friday evening will be a question and answer session. We've been invited to submit questions. I thought it might be interesting to share my questions here. If you want the answers, come to the seminar. Not that all, or any, of these will be asked, of course. Lots of people will be asking questions. This is just my unfiltered list - the things I wonder about.*

[B]Your Experience of Aikido[/B]

Q: What brought you to Aikido?

Q: Is there something in your background that made you particularly receptive to, or inquisitive about, what has been available for you in Aikido?

Q: Did you find support and validation in Aikido for who you were already, or did Aikido change you?

Q: Is there something you wish you'd discovered or realized earlier in your Aikido training that would've helped you grow or learn? Or something you actually did discover or realize, that fundamentally changed your approach or understanding?

Or perhaps is there something you hope your students can grasp (or let go of), that would help them? Is there something you see your students struggling with, that you wish they could just *get* more easily?

Q: Are there activities you find to be complementary to your Aikido practice? (Meditation, gardening, ...) Would you recommend them to others, or does everyone have to find their own way?

Q: In your experience of the larger "I" knowing who you are (such as why you love "junk," or love movement), were those sudden realizations, that you immediately saw ("Aha!) to be true? Or did you go through a lot of seeking and questioning before you discovered what was so for you?

Q: Do you continue to make discoveries about yourself through your practice of Aikido? How has that changed over time?

[B]Aiki[/B]

Q: What kind of change of consciousness, or development of consciousness, is possible through Aikido? What might that look like, in people's lives? In a community? In the world?

Q: How does Aikido work? How much is mechanics, psychology, emotion, spiritual, energetic? Or do those characterizations even make sense in the context of Aikido?

[B]The Art of Aikido[/B]

Q: If Aikido is a way of helping to bring peace and happiness to the world, what is the process by which you see that happening?

Q: How has Aikido changed since you first came to it? Has it expanded and strengthened? Or lost focus, gone off the tracks, or become diluted?

Q: What are your hopes for the future of Aikido, and how might that future come about?

[B]Teaching, Sensei, and Students[/B]

Q: Do you see a correlation between the reasons people come to Aikido, and their likelihood to stay with the practice? Or maybe, does it matter why people walk through the door of the dojo, or just that they do?

Q: What do you see as the best way to teach Aikido? Does the teacher convey knowledge directly, simply demonstrate, or support the student somehow in making discoveries on their own?

Q: What do you see as a Sensei's place in a student's life? Instructor of practical skills? Role model? Spiritual guide? Counselor? Parental figure? Friend?

Q: What do you hope your students (or students of Aikido in general) will get from practicing Aikido?

Q: What do you hope your students (or students of Aikido in general) might contribute to Aikido?

[B]Your Experience of O Sensei[/B]

Q: How would you characterize your relationship with O Sensei?

Q: Did O Sensei make requests of you (and of others, if you know), like "Go back to the U.S. and teach this"? Was he teaching his students to teach, necessarily?

Q: You have said that O Sensei had a process by which he could quickly jump into a bigger / higher level of himself. Could you tell us about the nature of that process? (Was it a physical practice? Meditation or prayer?)

Q: Do you think that Aikido today is (or is becoming) what O Sensei envisioned for it? Is it growing and spreading as he'd hoped? Affecting humanity as he'd intended? Better / worse / different?

Q: If you could spend an evening talking with O Sensei now, what would ask him? Or tell him?

[I]In thinking about these questions, it struck me that the world might be a much different place for many, many people, had a certain young Robert Nadeau not somehow connected with Aikido. Just another example of how one pebble can make waves affecting an entire ocean.[/I]
-----
[I]*It occurred to me the day after posting these questions (and sending them off to Sensei) that I'd be interested in hearing others' answers to them as well. If you teach Aikido, or have just practiced for a long time (however you define that), please feel free to copy some or all of my questions, and answer them on your own blog or Web site. I'd appreciate a mention, and please let me know where I can go to read your answers. Thanks![/I]]]></body>
	<date>03-08-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3857">
	<title><![CDATA[Elevator Speech: What is Aikido?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Every so often someone will ask me "So, what's this Aikido thing that you do?" They may have some idea that's it's "kind of like karate," but they rarely know anything more. I usually end up stammering something about it being "a martial art, sort of like Tai Chi, but Japanese, and not really like Tai Chi, but there's no punching and kicking. There's this blending, and going with the energy, and... Oh heck, just come watch a class some time." Pathetic.

So I've been thinking that I should come up with an Aikido elevator speech, for just such occasions. An "elevator speech," if you haven't heard that term, is a very brief, clear statement, usually about what you do professionally, or what your company does. Something you can say when you talk to someone for a few seconds in an elevator.

There are a few tricks to an elevator speech. Obviously, it has to be short. It has to be engaging, easy to understand, and memorable. Less obviously, but most important, it needs to evoke in the listener the correct understanding. That does not mean that your explanation needs to be complete, or even accurate. It means that you have to say something that causes the right picture to form in their mind, taking into account their experience, vocabulary, and state of mind. You might even need to consider their age, gender, cultural background, etc. You have to speak in a way that they get it.

Let's look at the answer to "So, what do you do?" from one of my past careers. I was [B]"part owner, and operations manager, of an industrial equipment distributorship selling fueling system components to major oil companies and repair contractors. We sold leak detection systems, day tanks for emergency generators, bulk fueling systems for marine and aviation applications, and..." [/B]Well, you see, your eyes have glazed over already, haven't they? You probably stopped paying attention at "operations manager," or certainly by the time you got to "fueling system components." And you almost certainly have no idea what a day tank is, unless you run a high rise or hospital. By trying to be complete and accurate (not to mention sounding all businessy and official), I have entirely failed at communicating what I did. I may also have left the listener feeling stupid for not understanding me.

What I ultimately came up with, which worked very well, was [B]"I run a warehouse that sells equipment for gas stations, y'know, like pumps, hoses, and nozzles, and really big underground tanks." [/B]Now they have something they can relate to - things they can picture. They know what a warehouse is, and probably have some idea of what running one is about. They go to gas stations all the time. They have experience with gas pumps. They can easily imagine really big underground tanks, even though they may never have thought about them before. And I said it all in a very natural (for me) vocabulary so it didn't sound like something invented at a company meeting about elevator speeches. Presto! In about 7 seconds they knew exactly what I did. They got it. They felt smart for understanding, and sometimes even were brave enough to ask a question or two.

Incidentally, those big things you drive up to are really called "dispensers" - the "pumps" are down there with the underground tanks, where you never see them. But nobody knows or cares about that. We're not trying to say accurate things, we're trying to help the listener create an accurate picture. Just call them pumps. You can explain later, if they care.

An elevator speech about Aikido, then, might need to address preconceptions the listener could have from watching action films, or knowing someone who did another martial art when they were a kid. It should avoid using Japanese. It might need to reassure someone who thinks you could be prone to violence, or encourage someone who's thinking of trying it out themselves. And your words should help them imagine what Aikido might look like. Images are very memorable. Use color, size, numbers - anything to help them see it in their minds.

[B]Aikido is a martial art based on classical Japanese arts and Samurai traditions.[/B]

In the first 5 seconds we've explained a lot, and with a little luck we've grabbed their attention and imagination. OK, it's a martial art. That probably confirms what they were thinking already. A Japanese martial art. OK, cool. With roots in classical arts. Oh...? They may not know what classical Japanese martial arts are, but it sounds good - and it's even accurate. (This is not the time to start explaining about daito ryu and O Sensei.) They've almost certainly heard of Samurai, and have some idea what they were about. They probably think that's cool. And there's something there about tradition. So far, so good.

[B]We wear white gis, and we all practice together on mats in a big dojo.[/B]

This is a little bit of an easy break, after that intense first sentence. A mental resting place. They may not know the word "gi" but in the same breath we've told them it's something white that we wear. They will probably have seen enough movies to know what we mean. (Yes, I know they are called gi, or dogi, with no "s", but like the "gas pumps" we need to be understood right now. Worry about teaching them Japanese later.) Likewise, even if they don't know the word dojo, we've told them it's a big space with mats. They know what a high school gym looks like, so they can picture this, too. They may even feel a little smarter, because they've just understood us perfectly well, even though we used some unfamiliar words. And they know that we all practice together. Not only does it help paint the picture of the physical environment, there's also a nice ring of community in it.

[B]We use weapons and empty-hand techniques to learn how to resolve conflict fluidly and effectively, instead of reacting out of fear or tension.[/B]

Weapons are important in the practice of Aikido, but I'm mentioning them here for another reason: Knowing that we practice with weapons may help counter any "wimpy" impressions they may have about Aikido. We also have "effective" in there. If you are talking to someone who seems a little cautious about the whole "martial arts are scary" thing, just start with "We learn how to resolve conflict..." Without really needing to understand any details or philosophy of the practice, we've got "resolve conflict, fluidity, and effectiveness" overcoming "reaction, fear, and tension." Who wouldn't want that? And again, it's accurate.

That might be enough for them to absorb right now. We've explained a little, piqued their curiosity, and we haven't overstayed our welcome. Here's what we have:

[B]Aikido is a martial art based on classical Japanese arts and Samurai traditions. We wear white gis, and we all practice together on mats in a big dojo. We use weapons and empty-hand techniques to learn how to resolve conflict fluidly and effectively, instead of reacting out of fear or tension.[/B]

Stop there, and see if they have any questions. Remember to keep answers very short and simple.

You'll want to come up with your own elevator speech, in your words. Just remember to follow the guidelines above. Speak so the listener understands. Give them what they need to paint the picture in their mind.

If they are interested in knowing more, invite them to watch a class at your dojo! They'd likely be shy about coming, and afraid they'd be out of place or in the way, so let them know it's a common occurrence, and that they'd be welcome:

[B]Come with me Friday night and watch a class. People do it all the time. We have chairs for visitors, and sometimes have two or three people checking it out. New students are even required to watch a class before they can join, so it wouldn't be weird at all. [/B]

I'd love to hear your Aikido elevator speech! If you've come up with a good, quick explanation, please share it in the comments!]]></body>
	<date>03-05-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3836">
	<title><![CDATA[I'm Destroying Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The comments on YouTube, about my 5th kyu exam, got off to a predictable start with [I]"good luck in a street fight no offense"[/I] [sic].

From looking at the person's recent comments on other people's videos, this is one of the nicest things they've said to anyone. Most of their other comments are downright vulgar.

My reply: [I]"None taken. In my 47 years I've never been in a street fight, and don't intend to go around starting any scraps in pubs. :-) My practice of Aikido has nothing to do with fighting."[/I]

That apparently hit a nerve with someone in Poland, who said (ellipses his - I did not edit this): [I]"..and that this the reason this unique, interesting and demanding martial art is dying....cause people like You practice aikido with firm belief that it has nothing to do with fighting..sad..."[/I]

I could just delete their comments, but what the heck, let's see where this goes. I'm sure I won't change their minds, but others coming along and reading the comments might find the discussion interesting. I responded:

[I]"Aikido is not dying, never mind being killed off by 'people like me.' Yes, it comes from centuries of fighting arts, and yes, it is effective. But O Sensei did not create it to help people become better street fighters.

The goal of most non-sport martial arts is not fighting. It's interesting that even in my video comments field you are trying to start one. If you want to fight, find others who want to fight, and have a great time. I'm not opposed to that, it's just not what I'm up to."[/I]

I'm pretty sure that won't be the end of it. There are a lot of people who are certain that becoming a better fighter is the primary, and only valid, purpose for practicing martial arts, and they typically try to promote that view through rudeness and bullying of anyone who practices the arts for any other reason. I wonder if fencing, kendo, tai chi, and archery catch the same kind of flak? Dressage actually does, on occasion, when people point out that a not-quite-perfectly-responsive horse could mean one's death on the battlefield.

I am no scholar on the subject of martial arts, but in my very limited experience I've not met any serious student or teacher who felt that fighting was the goal. Engaging in fights is never a desirable outcome. But if you must defend yourself or others, of course you should be able to.

So far, I've mostly been able to. Perhaps it's whatever confidence and presence I gained from a summer Judo class in 3rd grade, 6 months of Tang Soo Do in high school, or a very physical self-defense course in college. Maybe it was my practical, moral upbringing in a stable home. Could be a bit of street smarts from walking, biking, skateboarding, and taking the bus everywhere, and working a paper route for 3 years, as a girl, alone. Or knowing I can handle myself coordinating convoys of rigs rescuing livestock in the face of raging wildfires. I don't go looking for danger or confrontation, but I don't run, either. Attackers love weak, fearful targets. I've never been weak or fearful. I've been jumped and beaten once, by a predatory gang in junior high school, but I've never gotten into a fight, on the street or otherwise. I consider avoiding fights to be the bigger victory than being proficient in winning them.

According to Kevin Blok Kyoshi (7th Dan in Yoshinkai Aikido), weak people cannot enforce peace. Blok Sensei teaches defensive tactics for police officers, and non-physical crisis intervention. He is an expert on the effective, practical application of Aikido. But even with that background (or maybe because of it) he speaks of Aikido as a path to peace and happiness. In his interview for the "Aikido - The Way of Harmony" podcast (which I highly recommend listening to), he speaks at length about bliss. He says that true budo is about love. (Listen especially starting at the 43 minute mark.) "You want to change the world, to make it a better place." ... "It starts with you. The center of your universe is you. Don't go to try to make other people happy, and blissful, and loving, and caring, if you can't do it with yourself."

George Ledyard Sensei put it plainly on his Web site, www.aikieast.com:

[B][INDENT]Aikido 
It's not about fighting. 
It's about not fighting.[/INDENT][/B]
Aikido takes a disproportionate amount of criticism, but the goals of promoting harmony and not fighting are not unique to Aikido.

In high school I practiced Tang Soo Do - Moo Duk Kwan (a "hard" Korean art), for all of 6 months or so. I came to it to learn how to be violent, effectively. Instead I learned how not to be. Yes, there was sparring (which is great fun), and tournaments (including the requisite smashing of concrete blocks, demonstrated by the Master of our school), but it was made clear from the outset that we weren't to be engaged in any fighting outside of class. Self control and good character were the goals. It was an art in the budo tradition, even if it included organized competitive fighting.

I still have my notebook from 30 years ago. In it, along with several lists of Key Points, Principles, and Creeds, copied earnestly by hand from the sign on the dojang wall, is the Tang Soo Do Pledge:

[B][INDENT]We pledge to contribute to the happiness of the human race with the sword and the pen, using any ability we possess in pursuit of justice for everyone, attempting to unite the perfect harmony and further the traditions of Tang Soo Do.[/INDENT][/B]
I took it that pledge seriously then, and I still do.

I learned decades ago to resolve conflict without physical violence, intimidation, or rude behavior. I came to Aikido for a lot of reasons, none of which were about becoming a better fighter, or even for self defense. I wanted to learn to relax and breathe, to have better balance, and to be able to stay focused and take effective action in the face of overwhelming physical threat. I am getting those things from my practice, but there is so much more available.

I am learning there are a lot of kinds of "fighting." Fighting what is. Fighting what I feel. Fighting who others are. Resisting. I still have a lot of fight in me. I'm not practicing Aikido to develop that, I'm practicing Aikido to let that go.]]></body>
	<date>02-15-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3828">
	<title><![CDATA[Inspired Teaching]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[The other day in a weapons class Sensei wanted to work with bokken, and before class was considering what to focus on that day. The class ended up being an intensive little workshop, essentially, with lots of emphasis on breathing, correct technique, and incorporating weapons into familiar techniques, such as ikkyo.

Sensei's classes are frequently, no, usually, like that.  "Just a regular weeknight class" is never "just" anything. 

After class I usually thank Sensei, if he's not busy talking to someone. "Thank you, Sensei," I say, adding something like "I really enjoyed the class," or "that was really interesting." Even, maybe especially, when the class was challenging, or even frustrating. 

It's polite to thank your teacher, and sometimes I feel like it might come across as only that. Just being polite. But there's nothing contrived about my gratitude. I deeply mean every word. (And I've told him so.) 

Classes are always inspired, never rote or perfunctory. Familiar techniques are presented in fresh ways, new subtleties explored. Sensei considers the response his words might elicit in a given student, knows just how much pressure or breathing room each person might need that day. He gauges the mood and abilities of the assembled students, and tailors the content of the class accordingly, on the spot. He sees endless detail in the mass of movement on the mat and offers strategic corrections, all while planning the next technique, managing the energy of the group, and keeping track of the time. 

It all looks perfectly natural. For Sensei, it probably is. Just like it's perfectly natural for a hawk to swoop at blinding speed through the branches of a tree, appearing on the other side with dinner in its talons. Perfectly natural from a lifetime of practice, and amazing to witness. It is as interesting to observe the teaching as it is to learn and practice the Aikido.

But as a student each class is a tremendous opportunity - to improve my Aikido of course, but also to examine my way of being, and to discover how I might take Aikido with me into the world. I am consistently blown away by the care and attention that goes into each class, and I am grateful for every opportunity to train under such a remarkable teacher.

Domo arigato gozaimashita, Sensei.]]></body>
	<date>02-12-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3826">
	<title><![CDATA[What I Meant To Do]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[If you read my post about my 5th Kyu test you may recall that when I sat down at the end of it I thought “Darn it. That wasn’t how I meant to do that!” It felt mechanical, uncommitted. Sensei's feedback was that it looked like I was "being careful." That wasn't how I meant to do my test, and yet... That's exactly what I did. I've been doing a lot of thinking about that since Saturday.

Aikido provides a laboratory, in which to learn about who and how we are in many areas of life. Or maybe a mirror, in which we can see ourselves more clearly. Interactions can reflect how we are with authority, trust, risk, arrogance, and so on. We can learn what scares us, what makes us happy, where we shut down, or where we step up. 

It often takes several days for a lesson to sink in, for me. I'll remember a phrase or an expression, and the significance of it will come to me, finally. I suppose it's similar to working out a problem, and a whole new way of looking at it pops into your head as you're walking to get the mail.

I had such a moment this morning, out feeding Rainy and the donkeys. I was rushing because I was running late. I meant to clean the pen before a rainstorm arrived, but I didn't have time. I was going to get up at 5:30, so I would have enough time, but I hit snooze until after 6:00. I planned to get to bed early, but didn't. I had intended to get to work on time, by 8:00, but I was late... again.

I had been thinking, since Saturday, about [I]why I was being careful [/I]during my test, and at other times in Aikido, and in other areas. That's still a valid question, worth exploring.

But another one that didn't come to me until this morning is this: [I]Why do I intend to do one thing, and then do another?[/I] All. The. Time. 

It's a good question; one I will ponder as I brush my teeth and get to bed, late, again.]]></body>
	<date>02-10-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3818">
	<title><![CDATA[5th Kyu test &amp; beyond]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[First, I passed. For those into belt colors, that means I'm still a white belt. I'll be posting the video (which I have not seen yet) later today.

[Update: [URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8bhlXh91Ksg"]Here's the video[/URL].]

I wasn't worried about passing, though. I was more interested in doing well. Or at least doing my best.

I did OK. Only one or two brain cramps on techniques, and I didn't shut down during jiyuwaza. A few minor "D'oh!" moments, but nothing horrid.

On the good side, I knew the names of everything, and the basics of how each technique went. Watching the 4th kyu test (the next one I'll have to take) I realized that I know those names and techniques, too, basically. And even a lot of the ones on the 3rd kyu test. I felt reasonably relaxed and present, and was able to breathe and focus pretty well.

On the room-for-improvement side... I really felt like something was missing, like I was "demonstrating how the techniques go" instead of *doing* the techniques. Like kind of half-singing a song to get across what the lyrics are, as opposed to really putting it out there like you mean to be heard. It felt half-hearted, uncommitted, low energy... something like that. When I sat back down in the line afterward, while watching the others, I knew I hadn't done my best, but I didn't know why. I wished I could've had a second chance, to get up there and do it like I had intended to do it. "Darn it. That wasn't how I meant to do that!" Oh well.

An interesting life lesson there... How often do I - do we - start out with the intention to really knock one out of the park, and then fade into "wait, that's not how I meant to do that" territory? Not for lack of skill, but from some momentary lethargy or lack of focus. Or maybe it's fear of trying, really whole-heartedly Going For It, and falling flat anyway.  

I didn't knock it out of the park.  I'm not proud of how I did, from a performance standpoint. But on the whole I'm OK with it. It was diagnostic, revealing. I know now where I stand. My perception of how I did on the test was consistent with the feedback I got. Sensei said it seemed like I was "being careful." I'm sure I was. I usually am a little tentative, a little light (not soft), and uncommitted, when practicing. Going through the motions.

The reason I've been conscious of for that is that I'm not sure of the technique - not sure I'm doing it right - and that I'm afraid that if I do it wrong I'll hurt my partner (particularly on things where one could bend joints in unnatural ways). I have also felt a general need to refrain from being forceful. I am reasonably strong, and it's easy for me to slip into using strength to try to "make" a technique work. I am more comfortable with more powerful technique (on both sides of the partnership). It's more familiar, and more fun. But I've been careful to try to keep that turned way down, to focus on finesse over force. Maybe, with some basic competency now, I can judiciously and correctly incorporate power into my Aikido.

Another reason I've just seen today is that you can't "really" fail if you aren't "really" trying. It's time to start really trying; doing Aikido like I mean it, all the time. By that I don't mean being stronger, harder, and more forceful with people. Just committed, honest, and real. Really strike. Really feel the energy. Really take Uke's balance. Really do the pin. Really throw them. And if that means making some blunders and looking like a goof along the way, so be it. 

New goal: Do it "the way I meant to do it" every time. Really.]]></body>
	<date>02-06-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3815">
	<title><![CDATA[Downs &amp; Ups of Exam Prep]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My exam for 5th kyu is Saturday morning - tomorrow. When I first started working with my mentor a month ago we began with a sort of diagnostic run-through of the exam. I knew all the technique names, and basically what they were. There was plenty of room for correction and refinement, but I wasn't completely lost. I felt like I was on a pretty good trajectory for being ready by exam day.

Then in mid-January I did a seminar, which was great fun, and a tremendous experience. I loved it, but it was exhausting, and dumped a whole lot of new information into my little 6th-kyu brain. :hypno: 

The next couple of weeks were difficult all around, and left my confidence a bit battered. :(  I couldn't seem to do anything right in class. Friends on Facebook were commenting that my Aikido posts had been negative lately.

I accumulated a dozen or so small injuries and ailments - a jammed thumb, a knee that didn't like to bend, sore shoulders and neck muscles, a stomped foot, assorted bruises and tight muscles, etc. I found myself stiff and guarded. Lingering symptoms from a cold in December returned, and my breathing was getting clogged up during class. One night I must have been dehydrated, and whited out (and sat right back down) when I stood up quickly from seiza. 

Last Wednesday I had the worst bout of vertigo since starting Aikido. The world was spinning. I felt seasick and was tipping over and falling into things. Feeling grounded isn't even a possibility in that state.

Vertigo also causes a cognitive hit, from all that brain CPU being used just to navigate in the world, I guess. It's like the brain fog that rolls in when one has a cold. When I worked with my mentor last Friday, terminology I had down solid a month ago was lost in the fog. Techniques I've done well enough a hundred times were incomprehensible. I felt overwhelmed by how much I had left to learn.

There were other little things. Work seemed to be a morass of interruptions, distractions, and conflicting priorities. I couldn't seem to get caught up on chores at home. One night a car easily going 100 mph very nearly rear-ended me on the freeway. The universe was not being kind.

Then on Sunday I participated in one of Sensei's "In Focus" workshops, this time on ukemi. These workshops push us a bit. They are always revealing, and usually fun. While some of the exercises in this one were indeed fun, on the whole the experience was, for me, profoundly discouraging. The toes on my stomped foot were numb. I'd rolled funny on one shoulder, so my whole arm hurt and my fingers were tingling. I was told, and could see in the video, what I was doing wrong, but couldn't feel it. It felt right, but wasn't. Without accurate perceptions how can one make corrections? I'd had a similar experience, where I could not grasp *how* to learn something else in the past, and in that case I just give up entirely. So running into this particular personal brick wall was hard. Giving up Aikido is not an option, but I couldn't see my way around the wall. A very perceptive fellow student gave me a bit of a pep talk (or a kick in the butt), but it was still a difficult day.  

Less than a week to my test, and it felt like my Aikido, barely held together with duct tape and baling twine on a good day, was falling apart. Sunday night my status on Facebook said "Linda Eskin is looking for the lesson, hard."

By Monday morning I decided I had to dig myself out of my rut. I remembered to take my allergy meds so I could breathe. I drank plenty of water, and walked at lunch. I stocked up on Gatorade and bananas to keep dehydration and muscle spasms at bay. I skipped going to the dojo to stay home to rest and heal, and to really study. I watched videos of each technique, reviewed my old descriptions of each, and wrote out new ones. When anything wasn't clear, I noted that, so I could ask about it.

On Tuesday I visualized the whole test over and over. As I fed Rainy and the donkeys I heard the words Sensei will say, let myself be aware of the little crowd of parents there to watch their kids' tests, felt what the cool blue mat will feel like, smelled how the mid-morning air will smell when it comes in across the little stream out behind the dojo, and heard the birds singing in the reeds. I saw and felt each technique in picture-perfect detail. :cool:  I ran through it again as I got ready for work. Once more while I walked at lunch. And again as I drove to the dojo.

Tuesday night I did both classes. We reviewed all the techniques I was having trouble with, and did some great work on jiyuwaza. After class I got to practice with my mentor and with my fellow 5th Kyu candidate. We both did the whole test, plus jiyuwaza with each other. We got video of everything, and posted it so we could review it during the week. I felt so much better! Not quite ready, but confident that I could be ready by Saturday. :)  Back on track!

Wednesday was another day off from classes. I iced and rested the ouchy parts, studied and visualized the techniques, and went out to dinner with my dear husband, Michael. Ended the day feeling more settled.

Yesterday morning, Thursday, I put together a playlist of positive, high-energy music that I love, and listened to that while driving. In the middle of a long day of meetings at work I managed to get outdoors once, sit quietly, and do the whole test again. The weapons class in the evening was very calming and reassuring. I may not be any better at weapons than at anything else, but I find them easier to comprehend. So weapons classes generally leave me feeling like I might have a bit of a clue about this stuff. I stayed late to watch some of the advanced class, write some notes and be sure I had all my questions down to ask my mentor on Friday. The class was doing some really interesting work on feeling shared energy and going with it. I'm very glad I stayed. I left feeling quietly excited, happy, and very grateful to be able to train with Sensei and my dojo mates.

Tonight is a 90-minute class with Sensei, and then a full run-through of the exam with my mentor. I'm really looking forward to both.  All I have to do tomorrow is show up, relax, breathe, and have fun. :)]]></body>
	<date>02-05-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3808">
	<title><![CDATA[Great Trip, Happy to Be Home]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Long time, no blog post! After the recent seminar, circumstances promptly dumped me back into my normal life. Work was busy. The weather was insane, with the most dramatic storms we've seen in years. The power was unreliable for days. Rainy the horse, and the donkeys, have needed extra tending with all the rain and muck. And after one 6-hour power failure our refrigerator broke for good, which meant an evening throwing out everything, and filling an ice chest with enough to get by on. It's been like camping in our own house. On top of that, I've been training all I can, because my 5th kyu test is coming up a week from Saturday.

Now work is settled back into a good steady pace. The rain is coming down more gently. The new fridge arrives tomorrow, and we're making a restocking run in the evening. Training for my test is proceeding apace. Almost back to a normal routine.

For the past week I've been wanting to post something to sum up my experience of the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar. It was such a long, intense, diverse, and new experience it's hard to know where to begin, so I'll start at the end.

I've lived in San Diego County all my life. It's a lovely place. People from all over come here for vacations. Whenever I've flown back into San Diego on a commercial flight there have been people visibly and vocally excited about coming here, many for the first time. "Yay! We're in San Diego!!!" It doesn't matter where I've been, what I've seen, what I've been doing, when I come back here I have that same feeling. It's not only that it's familiar and comfortable, it's really a beautiful, rich, amazing part of the world. I'm very lucky to live here, and happy to be home.

Coming back to my own dojo after the seminar, which actually was my vacation, was a similar experience. I feel so fortunate to have a great "home" to return to. Tonight's classes just reinforced that feeling once again. I'm very lucky to live here, and happy to be home.

The seminar was the first Aikido training I'd done outside of events with my own dojo. The facility was lovely, and the event (in its 4th year, I believe?) was well-run. Thank you again, to Jeff Sodeman Sensei and everyone at Jiai Aikido who made the seminar possible. Everyone I met was friendly, helpful, and serious about training.

The teachers were amazing, of course, kind, often funny, and very generous about connecting with students at all levels. I had the privilege of working with each of them several times, and tried my best to stay present and really get what I was feeling. Ikeda Sensei was like grabbing a cloud - just nothing to hold onto. It seems that the wonder of this stuff working never grows old for him. Several times he allowed that "It's weird!" Many of Doran Sensei's techniques included what I think of as the kind of misdirection used by magicians. He often taught with a very charming sense of mischief. On the last day I and another white belt (just there for that day, I think) were trying to work out the details of some seemingly impossible technique, when Tissier Sensei stopped to offer us a few words of encouragement. Such a gracious man.

I've never done anything so physically and mentally intense, for so long, before. I was very glad for all the Aikido classes I'd been doing, the walking at lunch, the time on the elliptical trainer, and heavy yard work. I came home utterly exhausted (but exhilarated) each night. I had told my husband, Michael, to basically consider me to be "out of town" for the duration; to make his own plans for the evenings. That was a good call. I had just enough energy left to throw my dogi in the wash, feed the critters, shower, eat something, set the alarm clock, and collapse into bed.

I cannot come close to remembering everything we covered in those 5 days. I certainly can't describe it with any accuracy. Here are some of the impressions that particularly struck me:

Tissier Sensei - Emphasized economy of motion. His speed was incredible. There were techniques he demonstrated "slowly" and some parts where just blurs, they happened so fast. He also worked with us on looking where we were going (for instance, to a point on the floor, and not at Uke's hand). This point really stuck with me for two reasons. First, it made an immediate, clear improvement in the feel of the technique when I did it. Second, it's very familiar from horseback riding - jumping in particular. You don't stare down at a jump as you're going over it, you're already looking to the next one. Your attention (or intention, really) on the next jump naturally helps guide you and your horse to it - it's palpable. And the effect is the same in Aikido.

Ikeda Sensei - Taking Uke's balance at the first touch. Subtle, internal waves. Giving the impression of something to grab, but nothing being there. I was able to see little glimmers of this working, like seeing the shadow of a fish in dark water. I caught a glimpse. I know it's there, somewhere.

Doran Sensei - Lots of very sensible techniques, presented in clearly-explained chunks I could mostly manage to understand. I got it about the train coming, and getting off the track. I got it about catching the shomen strike like catching a fish on a hook. I got it about using atemi to get Uke to take their own balance, so you don't have to.

These things were just moments. An image here or phrase there that was able to snatch up and tuck into my memory as they flew past in a hurricane of information for 5 days. There were also the guest instructors, and dozens of training partners, and new friends, who I learned so much from. It was a pretty mind-blowing experience. I'm already looking forward to going again next year.]]></body>
	<date>01-27-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3804">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikido Bridge - Sunday]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I had a great time today (Sunday) at the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar at Jiai Aikido in San Diego. I found myself understanding a bit more, able to do a bit more, and somehow not being quite as exhausted or sore at the end of the day as I was on Saturday. Maybe one eventually gets used to training all day? LOL All in all a really enjoyable day, and I feel like I can actually apply some of what I learned.

The guest instructor this afternoon was Francis Takahashi Shihan, 7th Dan. He was very generous about working with everyone, and has a warm sense of humor. He will be holding an Intensive Practice on Saturday, February 6th in Alhambra, California. Go if you're anywhere in the area!

After the seminar tonight a really big group went out to dinner at Todai (a Japanese buffet). A few of us stragglers were still hanging out and talking as the staff tried to close up for the night. A special shout out to Wayne. Looking forward to training with you and everyone on Monday morning.]]></body>
	<date>01-18-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3802">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikido Bridge - Saturday]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Another amazing day. I'm learning a lot about attending seminars. Sit in the middle, so you can hear. Drink more water than you think you need to. Eat something at each break. And now I know that if you throw the morning's sweaty gi in your car at lunch, all the windows will be fogged up when you go to leave in the evening.

There are a lot of levels of understanding at work. There are some things I just Do Not Get. I can't even understand what's being explained, never mind attempt it. There are other things I understand, conceptually, but cannot begin to do at all. Someday... Then some things I get glimmers of success, and could see being able to do them with some exploration and practice. And there there are the ones where I Really Got It, and was able to do the technique the way it was shown. Woohoo!

This morning's sessions included a good mix of all those things. A few "duh... what"  moments, and a few "aha!" moments, with a lot of everything else in between.

At lunch a few of us went to the park at the bay to take a quiet break, and just rest. We ended up with a dead battery, but luckily another friend was able to come rescue us with a jump start, and we all got back in time for the afternoon sessions, which started at 3:00.

About midway through the afternoon I was really tired, and my knee was tight from sitting around on the lunch break. I and some of the people I was working with were not catching the subtleties of whatever was being shown, and were sort of just trying stuff. I almost bowed out, figuring I was wiped, and not getting anything out of the rest of the day anyway. Maybe I could grasp it better by just watching. But then I got to work with a couple of folks who got what was going on. Their technique was great, and/but not subtle at all. I did a whole bunch of the hardest falls I've done in Aikido (not high breakfalls, just going down hard) and had no problem with that. The technique was really effortless to do, sneaky, and very effective. LOL It was actually hard to [I]not [/I]drop Uke like a ton of bricks. Then on the next technique we did quite a lot of pitching each other rather forcefully into forward rolls. All of that kind of woke me up, and I was able to make sense of at least some of the rest of the afternoon.

In the evening there was a beer social at the dojo. It was great to have a chance to sit and chat with some of the folks I've met. I'm starting to put names, faces, and dojos together. I'll probably finally get a few names right on Monday, when the seminar ends. ;-)

Now I'm in that state of mind when one is immersed in an experience over a few days where you start to hear your own thoughts in the accents of dialects of the people you've been listening to all day. Even the way I was moving when doing my laundry and feeding the critters felt different. Weird zone to be in. I'm completely wiped out, and on my way to another hot bath and early bedtime. Back at it in the morning!]]></body>
	<date>01-16-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3800">
	<title><![CDATA[Bridge Seminar - 2nd Day]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[What a long day! I’m exhausted. A hot bath and a good night sleep (and some ice packs on my knee) are at the top of the priority list, so just a quick post tonight. I need to sit down with my notebook and try to remember what we did today. It’s all in there somewhere, but describing much of it is beyond me at this point.

The guest instructor this evening was Wilco Vriesman Sensei from the Netherlands. ([URL="http://ca.video.yahoo.com/watch/4077657"]Here is a video of him at another seminar - not today[/URL].) He had a really interesting way of breaking down the areas of the body, and which area does what. A sort of short hierarchical checklist one can go through when doing techniques to be more aware of where things are falling apart. I would love to spend more time on it (and will try to be aware of it when I’m practicing). There was a lot packed into that one hour!]]></body>
	<date>01-15-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3798">
	<title><![CDATA[Bridge Seminar - 1st Evening]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar 2010 - First Evening

Umm... O... M... G...! What fun! I've met dozens of lovely people (and I'm sure will have to be reminded of their names in the morning) from all over California and the West - a few from the Bay Area, some from Boulder, Colorado, one who drove down from the Tahoe area, I believe. Some are even from here in San Diego. ;-)

Each of the three featured instructors, Ikeda, Doran, and Tissier, taught for part of the evening tonight (from 6-8). I wouldn't want to guess how many participants there were tonight, but it's a big dojo, and it was pretty crowded - we lined up two rows deep, the length of the dojo. A very good environment for developing eyes in the back of your head - both to find a safe place to fall (or to throw someone), and to keep an eye on the instructors, who move through the dojo stopping to work with groups here and there. They are all very generous, patient, and approachable. When Ikeda Sensei wasn't teaching, he was in the loft getting video of the event.

There were at least 5 people from my dojo, and I think I got to train with all of them, but we weren't sticking together overly much. The evening was very fast-paced. The instructor would show a technique, possibly pointing out a detail or or two, and set us to training for a few minutes. Then another, and another... I may have found a cure for thinking too much: Train so fast you don't have time to think. :-)  I got to work with a couple dozen people or so, and experience a huge variety of feels, body types, styles, temperaments... Well, a lot of variety. I got the idea of most of what was being shown, and was able to do most of it OK. Nikkyo is still a mystery. LOL At one point Tissier Sensei picked me out of the crowd and had me try the technique we were doing on him, and later demonstrated a different technique on me, and worked with my partner on it for a few minutes.  I also got to train a couple of times with Jeff Sodeman Sensei, whose dojo, Jiai Aikido, hosts the seminar. My little 6th-kyu head is spinning a little from all of this. Haha. Seriously, it was great fun, with tons of new... I don't want to say "information," but lots of new stuff to play with.

By the way, the floor, which I'd been concerned about because it looked and sounded hard in the video of an earlier seminar, is perfectly fine - not squishy-soft, but firm and springy, and very comfortable to move and fall on.

If you want to see the image on the back of the seminar t-shirt, check this same blog at [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com"]http://www.grabmywrist.com[/URL]. If I heard correctly, Sodeman Sensei created the design. In any case it's very pretty.

At the end of the evening I met someone who knew my name because he reads my blog! Now I can't think of his, dangit. That was very cool. (If you're reading this, thanks! And come say hi again!)

Time to feed the critters (who had a late lunch today), grab some dinner and a shower, ice a few things, and get some sleep! Back on the mat at 9:30 in the morning!]]></body>
	<date>01-14-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3797">
	<title><![CDATA[It's Seminar Time]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Starting this evening I'm off to the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar (14-18 January, 2010, at Jiai Aikido, in San Diego). For anyone who's curious, here are some videos (by others, from other events) of the three featured instructors:

[B]Christian Tissier Shihan[/B]
[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlf_2mMpoyY"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zlf_2mMpoyY[/URL]
"Christian Tissier 7th dan Aikikai Shihan, Austria, Vienna, Matsumae Budocenter, 19-20. 12. 2009 "

[B]Hirsohi Ikeda Shihan[/B]
[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1DeDi9EU4s"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S1DeDi9EU4s[/URL]
"Hirsohi Ikeda Sensei demonstrating the principles of "aiki" during a class at the ASU Summer camp in Colorado."

[B]Frank Doran Shihan[/B]
[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyvk_zA8dV8"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dyvk_zA8dV8[/URL]
"Frank Doran Shihan at Aikido Summer Camp in the Rockies 2007."

And you can go to Shutterfly for a slideshow of [B]photos from the 2007 Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar[/B]:
[URL="http://share.shutterfly.com/view/flashShareSlideshow.jsp?sid=8CcNHLdy2aMN6"]http://share.shutterfly.com/view/flashShareSlideshow.jsp?sid=8CcNHLdy2aMN6[/URL]]]></body>
	<date>01-14-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3793">
	<title><![CDATA[The Near Future]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This weekend, Thursday through Monday, 14-18 January, 2010, I will be participating in my first big seminar at another dojo. It's the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar, at Jiai Aikido in San Diego. The featured instructors are Frank Doran Shihan, Hiroshi Ikeda Shihan, and Christian Tissier Shihan. What a privilege! Several other students from Aikido of San Diego will be attending, too. I'm looking forward to training with them, and to meeting new friends there. At least one of my Aikido friends from Facebook will be at the seminar. I may be posting to my blog in the evenings, but only if there's time after dealing with the critters and getting enough sleep.

The following weekend is our dojo community service project. On Saturday we will be doing a work day at the ranch where our Retreat is held. That should be a fun time.

On January 31st Sensei is offering an Aikido In Focus workshop on Ukemi. These workshops are only 2 hours, but those I've done so far have each provided a great opportunity to explore some aspect of one's Aikido. I'm really looking forward to this workshop.

Next month, on February 6th, I'll be taking my exam for promotion to 5th kyu. I've started reviewing the techniques, and working with my mentor, and of course training at every opportunity. I don't feel entirely lost, but will certainly need every moment of preparation I can squeeze in before that date!

March 21st brings another Aikido In Focus workshop with Dave Goldberg Sensei. I'll also be going to a non-Aikido thing, the App Masters conference by User Interface Engineering, later that same week. Maybe I'll wear my "Don't Make Me Think" t-shirt to both.  

In April, Robert Nadeau Shihan, my teacher's teacher, and a direct student of O Sensei, is coming to Aikido of San Diego for a 3-day seminar the 9th through 11th. I was fortunate to be able to participate in the seminar when he visited last year, and am excited about getting to work with him again.

May 7-9 I will be participating in a horsemanship clinic with Kathleen Lindley. Kathleen spent a year on the road (as basically an uchi deshi), training and teaching with Mark Rashid, the horseman and author who introduced me to Aikido. It would be helpful if I were to be working reasonably well with Rainy by then, so we can best benefit from our time with Kathleen. 

May 15th brings another round of exams at the dojo. I will surely not be testing that time around (well... unless I blow it this time!), so I just get to watch and learn.

May 22nd will be our dojo's annual Spring Picnic. The Spring Picnic was the first dojo event I went to, shortly after I first started training (on May 5, last year). It was a great chance to get to know everyone a bit, and I'm looking forward to this year's, too.

Whew! It's going to be a busy and fun few months ahead.]]></body>
	<date>01-12-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3790">
	<title><![CDATA[Being Inspired]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Our dojo lost a good friend this past week, Keo Power. Sensei shared [URL="http://www.goldbergsensei.com/post/316545024/remembering-keo"]a lovely tribute [/URL]on his blog, and I urge you to read it. I had never met the man. From everything I've heard about him, and the few photos I've seen, I wish I'd had the opportunity.

Some months ago a friend advised me to feel and be inspired by the love and sweat of all those who'd gone before me on the mat. Keo not only trained on our mat, he helped create it, along with much of the rest of the dojo. Tonight, during meditation before class, I let myself be open to feeling his presence. Afterward I spent a few moments noticing the places where I know his hand touched this little world I love so much.

Our dojo is physically beautiful, and an oasis for the spirit. Much of that was his doing. I don't know if one's contemporaries can become kami, but I like the idea that Keo, a generous and passionate man I never met, will always be present in that space.]]></body>
	<date>01-06-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3788">
	<title><![CDATA[How to go to your first big seminar]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I have been around music and horses for many years. In both of cases there are festivals, seminars, workshops, and clinics. I've been to many local one-day workshops with touring guitarists and fiddlers, weekend-long annual festivals with hundreds of music workshops going on all day, 4-day riding clinics with world-famous horse trainers, and even one week-long live-in camp in West Virginia to work on fingerstyle blues guitar. These are always intense, worthwhile experiences. Even in cases where the workshop is above my skill level it's fun and useful to see what could be possible at some point in the future. Workshops are a great way to learn new skills, discover new ways of looking at things, meet new friends, and reconnect with old ones.

My way of thinking about these things is if the opportunity presents itself, take it. I'm not much of a flat-picker, but when Dan Crary offered a local workshop, darned right I went. When the Mark Rashid comes to town for a horsemanship clinic, if I can manage it, I sign up. I always benefit from going, and it's always money well spent.

So going to an Aikido seminar at some point this year seemed like the natural and obvious thing to do. But with large animals to care for (or to haul off to board), and inner ears that don't like air travel (not to mention the expense of flying and hotels), getting to one of the big summer camps didn't seem feasible.

I was whining about just that online back in October when someone pointed out that the [URL="http://sandiego.aikidobridge.com/default.aspx"]Aikido Bridge Seminar, 5 days with Shihans Tissier, Doran, and Ikeda[/URL], was coming up in January, right in my own backyard. OK, not exactly in my backyard. It's actually in a building were I used to have a business. Three world-class teachers, no travel required. How could I say no?

For the benefit of other newbies I thought I'd share my experience of how to go to your first big Aikido seminar:

[LIST=1]
[*]Learn that there is a killer seminar happening right near you, months away. Get all excited about it, but wonder if you'd be nuts, as a middle-aged 6th kyu student, to go to it.
[*]See that your sensei is on Facebook chat that moment, and ask him if you'd be nuts to go. He says you'd be OK.
[*]Sign up right then.
[*]Jump around the room all excited about getting to go to your first big seminar outside of your own dojo.
[*]Knowing that having some background and context helps you understand teachers better, order the videos of the 2007 seminar, so you can see what this is all about.
[*]Sit by the door and wait for UPS.
[*]When UPS shows up run and pop one of the videos in the DVD player. See that 90% of the participants are in hakama. Hear that the floor sounds awfully hard.
[*]Panic.
[*]Notice that several of your friends from the dojo are in the video, and one is Uke for a couple of the teachers a lot of the time.
[*]Start breathing again.
[*]Pester everyone who's been to past Aikido Bridge Seminars for information on what it's really like.
[*]Recruit your fellow students to join you, and experience great relief knowing that there will be several friendly faces at the seminar.
[*]Watch the DVDs again.
[*]Realize that [URL="http://sandiego.aikidobridge.com/schedule.aspx"]24 hours on the mat over 5 days[/URL] might be more physically taxing than you'd considered.
[*]Start training harder. Change your work hours and sleeping habits to get to more classes.
[*]When your husband goes out of town for 2 weeks go to every available class. Notice that this doesn't kill you, but learn a few hard lessons about eating, sleeping, and setting aside everything else in life for the duration.
[*]Request more vacation time, rather than trying to squeeze the seminar in before or after work.
[*]Keep training. Keep doing the exercises your PT recommended. Keep saying that you really ought to start doing more cardio work on the elliptical.
[*]Order another gi for the seminar, so you can change into a dry one at the lunch break each day.
[*]Watch the DVDs again. Start to see the techniques, and hear what the teachers are saying.
[*]Fall off your horse on Christmas. Get a little dinged up and worry that you might not be able to do the seminar.
[*]Come down with a cold that same night. Remember the month-long Cold From Hell last year, and and worry that you might not be able to do the seminar.
[*]Hit both problems with everything you've got. Vitamin C, zinc, rest, fluids, echinicia for the cold. Ice, stretching, and arnica for the bumps and bruises.
[*]Recover from the cold in only 3 days.
[*]Go to the dojo and discover that you can roll without the bruises hurting too much. Get all excited and jump around the room.
[*]Notice that the calendar says January, and that the seminar is JUST TWO WEEKS AWAY.
[*]Remember what you've been saying about how you ought to be doing more cardio training.
[*]Panic.
[*]Actually get on the elliptical trainer and get to work. Two weeks is better than nothing.
[*]Start a list of things to take to the seminar: Water, coffee, protein bars, bandages, tape, notebook, pens, paperwork, gi, an ice chest with ice packs in it...
[*]Order feed, catch up on chores, stock up on groceries, do laundry. Arrange life so there's nothing else that needs to be handled during the seminar.
[*]Relax.
[*]Get all excited and jump around the room.
[*]Keep training.
[/LIST]
Only 11 days to go. Not that I'm counting. :-)]]></body>
	<date>01-03-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3787">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikido smiled...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[In 2009 I came to the dojo. I intended to be serious about Aikido, but could only spare one night a week. I was busy, you see. I was just there to learn some skills I could use.

Aikido smiled, offered a wrist, and I grabbed.

And now, here at the beginning of 2010, without having felt any force to struggle against, and without quite knowing how I got Over Here, I am facing a new direction, looking back with new eyes at who I used to be, and looking forward to a new year of continuing discovery.]]></body>
	<date>01-01-2010</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3784">
	<title><![CDATA[&quot;The Kihon Waza of Horse Training&quot;]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[B]This post is a "reprint" of a Facebook Note written by Cherie Cornmesser [I](also known, here on AikiWeb, as Shadowfax)[/I]. [/B]Cherie and I seem to operate on the same wavelength about a lot of things. We are both long-time horsepeople (although she is much more experienced than I am). We are both new to Aikido, starting in spring of 2009, and are both 6th kyu now. We are fans of horseman & aikidoka Mark Rashid. We both like playing with nages who don't baby us. About the same time I was flying off Rainy last week, Cherie was writing this.

[I]Cherie Cornmesser lives in Southwestern PA. A graduate of Meredith Manor Equestrian College in Waverly, WV. She has gone on to train horses professionally on a limited basis, focusing on developing a partnership between horse and rider as a team. She is also a professional hoof care provider using the barefoot methods commonly referred to as natural hoof care. Cherie was introduced to aikido and began to study it in June 2009 after seeing clinics by horse trainer Mark Rashid and with the encouragement of her friend, martial artist, Rodger Pyle. She currently trains under Garth Jones and Tara Meyer at Allegheny Aikido in the Squirrel Hill neighborhood of Pittsburgh, PA.

Thank you, Cherie, for allowing me to share your writing. With that, grab a cup of coffee and get comfortable. This is well worth reading:[/I]

[B]"[/B]While the rest of the world has been immersed in celebrating the season, I have spent today deeply immersed in my favorite subjects. Aikido and horses. Now, to be honest I've mainly been reading books, web sites and viewing video on aikido but always horses are there in the back of my mind. Most times, during my training at the dojo, I am looking for ways to relate the things I am trying to learn to the thing I know best which is training and riding horses. Occasionally things flow in the opposite direction.

This afternoon I took a drive out to see my mare, Baby, and drop off the monthly board check. As usual I checked in the lounge to see if anyone was around. A couple of fellow boarders were there so we had a little chat which led to me telling them about a recent trail ride.

It was the first real snow of the season. Just a week ago. My friend Joanna and I were excited to finally go for a trail ride in some real snow. Minion has just come off of 8 months of stall rest for an injury and spent the summer slowly getting back into shape. Baby was barely ridden last winter due to bad weather conditions. Needless to say this was an exciting event for the horses too.

Every little plop of snow falling from a branch was a cause for suspicion on Baby's part. Every time Baby slipped in the mud Minion found it a reason to spook. Needless to say it was keeping both of us on our toes. 

As is our usual pattern we stopped in a field to let the horses graze a little, while we were chatting and catching up. It was beautiful and quiet up on that hill. I wish I had been able to take pictures. Then in that silence there was a sound. Some other people were out riding as well from two hills over, about 1/2 mile or so away. The sound carried across the valley to us even though we could not see them. Both horses reacted.

Baby and I heard the sound at about the same moment. I felt the energy ripple through her body as her head started to come up. I lifted my right rein and put my right leg on her in a firm but quiet manner. And she stepped quickly around to stand facing the direction that the sound had come from. 

Minion OTOH reacted as if shot. His head flew up and he bolted like a race horse from a starting gate. I should mention that both horses have been raced, on the track, in the past. Baby for two years and Minion for six. So anyway as I watched him fly past me I observed this. Joanna's reaction was a little behind but she quickly caught up, lifted the left rein, applied the left leg and had her horse shut down in three strides. Within a few moments a potentially disastrous event became a non event. All because of the time spent on basic training…kihon waza.

In the Japanese martial arts Kihon Waza, basic training is the foundation of all that comes after it. Without it one cannot develop the instinctive memory to move in the ways that one will need later when performing full techniques in real time. Often as new students we are told again and again to go slow, to work on each step little by little. Not to focus on the end result. Not to worry about the technique or the throw. In other words don't be in such a hurry to hit the trails when you don't know how to stop, start and turn. 

Many people who have not focused on those basics might learn how to move in a pattern and create the technique, but it will only work in artificial surroundings. Planned circumstances and such. When a real situation occurs they lack the ability to react because they have not instilled those all important basics into their core. Sure they can think their way through it but they cannot use it without conscious thought. In the real world this is not going to work. And so this is part of the reason, I think, that many people believe that aikido does not work in real life. People seem to feel the same about equine basics.

There are many different methods of performing these steps but the steps themselves are generally the same. Some training methods focus only on using the rein, some use leg, some both. Some use clicker training. All have the same goals and general pattern.

The method, I describe below, most closely resembles that of John Lyons but incorporates techniques and ideas from many other trainers as well as from my own experiences as a horse trainer and college education.

So what are the equine basics that saved my friend and prevented the accident on that snowy ride? First and foremost give to pressure. A horse's natural inclination when pressure is applied to him in any way is to lean into it. To fight it and go against it. People are very much the same way. If someone pulls on your arm you lean back and resist. In aikido we are trained to let go of resistance and to move forward into and around the pressure. So too, horses are taught. We teach them first to move one spot. Just to yield the smallest bit. Slowly we build it until we can ask them to move any body part away from pressure that is put on it. 

Commonly the first thing taught to a horse beginning saddle training is give to the bit. Pressure on the rein asks the horse first to dip the nose only a small bit. A fraction of an inch. Slowly we teach the horse to continue to yield by way of rewarding the horse's give with a release. That is the full taking away of the pressure at the moment of the give. We begin to ask the horse to stay in the give position for longer periods. Never asking him to stay longer than he is comfortable but teaching him that he can comfortably do so for longer periods by the reassurance that there will be a release. The horse begins to trust us to take the lead.

After the horse has mastered this give on both sides of his body we add to it. We begin to apply leg pressure and ask the horse to move his hind end. In time and with many hours of training we teach the horse to yield his body in different ways. To become, as it were, in the martial sense a good uke (ooo-kay). 

Uke in Japanese means to receive. The one being acted upon. The one who is guided through the technique. A good uke will stick close to his leader, nage (nah-gay) and follow them as they are guided through the technique. It is in uke's best interest to do so since, in aikido, techniques can be quite abrupt, even violent and not to follow nage closely could mean serious injury.

For the equine uke, following his rider's guidance is important as well. The rider's guidance insures the safety of both as they perform maneuvers such as the amazing patterns of the cutting horse or the feats of the cross country jumper or even to negotiate a slippery trail on a steep hillside. The two must work in harmony in order to remain safe. 

Through the basic steps of training the horse and rider learn to act as one. Without having to think about all of the steps needed to perform a maneuver no matter how quickly that need may arise. Many people neglect these long tedious boring sessions of training, in favor of getting out there and doing the technique, enjoying the ride. But when the test comes… can they pass? Will they maintain the unity with their horse, flow through the technique and come out safe and centered? Most likely not. In the best case they wind up with an excited nervous horse and a rider who finds the entire experience unpleasant. These incidents will continue to occur more and more often until the two can no longer remain a team and the horse is sold. In the worst case one or both of the pair will wind up severely injured… or worse.

That day's ride in the snow was a good lesson. Not only did it show my friend how well all of that tedious boring time spent in the arena, instead of out on the trails, paid off. She has a long way to go in building her relationship with Minion but she also has a lot to be proud of in bringing him so far. I know I'm very proud of them both as my students. It also reminded me that, even though my horse and I knew it well, it was in our best interests to make sure we continue to revisit hose basic teachings and keep them fresh so that when the time comes again they will continue to stand us in good stead.[B]"[/B]

[I]Cherie Cornmesser 
12/25/2009[/I]]]></body>
	<date>12-28-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3783">
	<title><![CDATA[Rainy, and Real-life Ukemi]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[You might recall that the person who introduced me to Aikido is Mark Rashid, a teacher of horsemanship, author, and Nidan in Yoshinkan Aikido. I had participated in one of his horsemanship clinics in February of 2009, after my large, young horse, Rainy, got scared at the beginning of a ride in the mountains, gave a few good bucks, and I came off.

I’ve not ridden Rainy except maybe once or twice around the backyard since starting Aikido in May 2009. Now that I’m a lot more fit, and in somewhat better control of my breathing and body language, I thought it might be time to start riding again. My plan was to ease into it with a few minutes of walking around the backyard. Walk, turn, walk, whoa. That kind of thing. Easy peasy. Maybe another little ride tomorrow, and one Sunday, maybe.

Everything went fine today until a neighbor somewhere out of sight made a small, sudden noise. That wasn’t a problem, but Rainy’s reaction was. He spun and bolted. My limited ukemi skills served me well. When I realized I was so far off balance there was no recovering I bailed in an organized way. I was able to let go as I fell, which is surprisingly hard to do. I was able to aim away from Rainy’s legs, and toward a clear patch of soft ground just beyond a log and before a tree trunk. I must have rolled, and slammed into the tree, because I know I was diving forward and to the right, head-first, but ended up on my left side, with my feet tucked under me. Most of the road rash and bruises are down my right side: elbow, upper arm, upper and lower rib areas, hip and thigh. I have matching small-but-hard hemotomas on my mid-forearms, where I must have hit an old irrigation pipe that sticks up there. (At least I had the foresight years ago to cover it in 2” PVC pipe, to soften any such collision.) The thing that couldn’t be helped by rolling and splatting into everything as softly as possible was that Rainy’s hoof caught an 8-foot-long 6-inch peeler log as he ran by, and tossed it across the middle of my upper back.

Michael was watching, and I hollered that I was OK, but I didn’t want to move until I was sure everything was working properly. Fingers, check. Toes, thank goodness, check. Neck, no pain. Back, only the breath-catching feeling that I’d just been hit with a heavy log, but no real damage. I got up, gathered up Rainy, who was standing near the house, snorting, and got back on. After a short but successful little ride to assure us both that Riding Isn’t Such a Big Deal I hopped off and let him loose in the yard.

There’s no real damage - nothing that time and ice packs won’t heal, thankfully. But it was a pretty clear wake up call that I need to take a few giant steps backward, and start training Rainy from the beginning. No hopping on and riding for a good while yet, even around the yard. Lots of groundwork ahead. Lots of tiny steps, and tiny goals. Patience, and diligent, focused work on a thousand little details that make up the bigger picture of a good working relationship with one’s horse.

Today’s little wreck was discouraging, but diagnostic. I know where we stand, and the direction we need to go. It’s going to take some work, but the challenges are not insurmountable.]]></body>
	<date>12-26-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3782">
	<title><![CDATA[Introducing Rainy (“Right As Rain”).]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Rainy is my Percheron x Paint/Quarter Horse gelding. He’s about 5 years old, 16 hands tall, and 1,400-some-odd pounds. Rainy loves water, carrots, oranges, and belly scratches. He is a sweet-natured, pushy, friendly kind of character. Not a mean bone in his body. But he’s young and “green” (not highly trained). He can spin quickly enough and run fast enough to avoid being eaten by the lions he imagines are lurking in the bushes.

Some of my upcoming posts are going to be about applying Aikido to riding and horsemanship, so you might as well know who I’m talking about. :-)

[I]You can see a photo of Rainy this morning here:[URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/300805476/meet-rainy"]http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/300805476/meet-rainy[/URL] (the other site where I post this blog).[/I]]]></body>
	<date>12-26-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3780">
	<title><![CDATA[A Better Attitude]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Enjoying the first beautiful, quiet morning of a 4-day holiday weekend. No classes for a few days, but the two last night were so rich it may take 4 days for everything to sink in. The first offered a powerful new perspective on familiar techniques, and the second taught calm focus under pressure. I am so lucky to have such amazing teachers.

I’ve been much more relaxed, and really enjoying training, having discovered and let go of my energy on testing. Last night when Sensei was walking around watching our practice I was still trying to get it right, of course. But instead of worrying that he’d notice my mistakes when I made them, I was hoping that he would. He did, of course, and provided very useful feedback and clarification. So grateful for amazing teachers, and for being able to take responsibility for my own attitude about learning.

And now, a few days with my sweetie pie, family, and friends, puttering in the yard, time with the critters, and riding Rainy for the first time since starting Aikido.]]></body>
	<date>12-24-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3775">
	<title><![CDATA[Return to Center]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[INDENT][I]Soft eyes, quiet mind.
Notice thoughts and let them go.
There! Feel it and move.[/I][/INDENT]

Great seminar today, about getting off balance, returning to center, discovering what’s possible now, and acting on that. How wonderfully appropriate (and enjoyable). I’m left with noticing when I’m thinking, planning, and trying to direct, rather than just seeing what’s in front of me, and doing what’s available.]]></body>
	<date>12-20-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3773">
	<title><![CDATA[When Goals Go Bad]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A couple of months ago, roughly, I set a goal for myself of training [I]as if [/I]I were going to be testing for 5th kyu on February 6th, the next day tests are held at our dojo. As I said in a post about it then, my goal was not to [I]test [/I]that day, or even to be [I]ready to test [/I]that day, just to train so that I could be as prepared as possible.

What I was hoping to avoid was what I did before my 6th kyu test. In that case I was bopping along happily training in whatever came along in class (which is great), but not paying any particular attention to what techniques that would be required on the test. When my name appeared on the Dreaded Dojo Whiteboard (where Sensei writes the candidates names), I found I had a lot of learning to do. So I was hoping to at least be less blindsided if my name were to appear this time around.

If you've read my last few posts you know that I've been uneasy about something recently. I couldn't put my finger on it, though. It felt like some mashup of grief, disappointment, pressure, and feeling very inadequate. But I couldn't put my finger on a reason. There were no circumstances to support feeling like that, or none that I could see.

What was really out of character was Thursday night, in weapons class. I was freaked out at not feeling like I had one of the techniques down clearly. I didn't know it, and felt like I should've known it. Sensei was walking around the mat watching and correcting people, as senseis do when they are teaching, you know, normally. I was really concerned that he might see that I didn't know what the heck I was doing. Mind you, I fully realize the absurdity of that thinking, on a lot of levels. Just the same... I could hardly make myself breathe, I was so wound up.

I blogged about that on Friday morning ("Stupid Ego"), and one of my friends commented "[I]hmmm just wondering but would it have anything to do with you having set a deadline for your next test? Perhaps not realizing it but feeling the pressure to get up to the next level by a certain time period might be part of the issue[/I]." My first reaction to that was basically "no, no, that's not it, I wasn't really trying to test then, blah, blah..." But the more I thought about it, the more I see she nailed it. I was saying I wasn't really trying to test this time around, but really... I was kinda hoping I'd would.

(For those readers who aren't familiar with martial arts, you test when your teacher decides you are ready. You don't ask to be considered. You, of all people, are the least qualified to make any determination about your own readiness. You just train. If your teacher says you're ready to test, you test.)

How it works at our dojo is that before you can be considered to test for 5th kyu you have to have done at least 40 training days (not hours or classes) since your 6th kyu test. I  have been really pushing to get there, and just hit 40 just a couple of weeks ago. Suddenly at 40+ there's the possibility of being considered for testing. At least a month before your test you need to find a senior student who is willing to mentor you. I've talked to a few, and have had a few in mind, just in case, because if your name appears on The Whiteboard you'd best get busy finding a mentor, fast, especially if you have a preference for who you work with. Because the next test date is February 6th, and everyone needs to have a mentor at least a month ahead of time, if you're not called to test by the first few days of January, you're not testing this time around. So there's a pretty narrow window time there.

Anyway... I've been assuming (probably wrongly, but there goes my little mind & ego, running off together) that Sensei has been watching to see if I'm within shooting distance of testing in February. And I've been putting a lot of pressure on myself to not screw up, and really feeling it when I do (inevitably) do just that.

My friend's comment finally rang true when I put the dates together and discovered that the unidentifiable knot in my gut started about the time I hit 40 days, when testing became a possibility. Once I realized that I really did have some attachment to, or at least attention on, being called on to test, I was able to let that go a little, and the knot started to unwind. I had a wonderful time in Friday night's class, just training.

Enthusiastically getting to the point where something is a possibilty, and actually doing it, are two very different things. Like signing up to go skydiving is a different experience from jumping out of the plane. I've spent a few months training as though I intended to be ready to test in February. I signed up for the skydiving trip. Do I have an opinion about whether I could actually be ready to test? Sure. I have a lot of opinions about that, some of them in direct contradiction. And, quite correctly, they count for nothing.

I find I'm consciously having to let go, and let go, and let go of any attachment I have to the whole testing thing. What there is to do is to train, relax, learn about Aikido, and have fun, so that's what I'm going to do.

[I]Big sigh...[/I] There, that feels so much better...]]></body>
	<date>12-19-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3770">
	<title><![CDATA[An Aikido Dream]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I usually don't dream weird dreams. I usually dream about work, or about something I have to do the next day. Boring. But last night I had a really strange dream. I'll tell you about it first, and then what I think it represented.

[INDENT]The dream started with me arriving, as if by transporter, or warp in the space-time continuum, in a room. It was obvious there was no way of going back where I'd come from. There was a doorway or hall, and women were coming in or walking through in small, quiet groups. I was pleading with them to tell me where I was, who they were, where I should go, what I should do. They could see I was lost, and seemed sympathetic, but couldn't understand what I was asking, and I couldn't understand them. They took me to another room where I met with an older woman who seemed to be their spiritual leader or counselor. She could see I was very upset by this time, but she too could not give me any answers. Through body language and touch she let me know that I was safe there, and that she understood, if not my story, at least what I was feeling, and that I was OK.[/INDENT]
At first glance I figured I must be watching too much Star Trek, and didn't give it a lot of thought. But as I started going over the details in my mind I came to a different interpretation. The rooms were simple and plain, white and wood, with no decoration. The women were soft-spoken, and clearly part of a tight community where they knew and understood each other without a lot of talking. They were all dressed alike, in loose-fitting cotton garments in subdued tans and beiges. I was in a new world, with a new language, and it was clear I was going to be spending the rest of my life there. I felt utterly lost. I couldn't understand what was going on, or what was being said, and was sad and frightened about that. I didn't know what to do, what was expected of me, or how to find out. Their leader, who clearly had the confidence of the others, was kind and sympathetic, but could not give me any answers, only reassurance and support. I knew they were good people, that I was safe, and that they were willing to accept me into their community.

Given my frustration in class yesterday over feeling completely incompetent, along with the past week's sense of feeling closed off or guarded, I'm thinking the dream was showing me a picture of Aikido. It's a new world, a new language, a new community. Most answers can't be gotten by simply asking. My usual ways of learning don't work. It's understood that I'm lost. But I'm safe, among friends, with a caring, perceptive leader, and in time will feel at home.

The weirdest thing about the dream might have been explaining to Sensei tonight before class that in it he was a wise old woman. :-)]]></body>
	<date>12-18-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3768">
	<title><![CDATA[Stupid Ego]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I like to imagine that I am a rational person. I would like to believe that I don't care so much what other people think. It's nice to pretend that I have enough sense to know that a beginner is not expected to do things perfectly all the time. Or ever.

So why was I wound tighter than a sharp E string last night in class, when I felt like I didn't know how to do a technique correctly? I reminded myself to breathe, drop my shoulders, settle, breathe, drop my shoulders... It had no effect on the fear of humiliation turning my stomach into a knotted wet rag.

Watching myself from a sort of disembodied perspective it was pretty funny. Like "You idiot. Knock it off. You're a freakin' 6th kyu. Get over yourself." But even when you know you're being ridiculous it's not always easy to shift to a more effective way of being.

It's easy being a total newbie. It's OK to know nothing at first. There's no pressure. Maybe I've reached a point where I expect that I should know something by now. After a whole, what... less than a year?

And so here I am, being impatient with myself for being impatient with myself. Stupid ego.]]></body>
	<date>12-18-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3766">
	<title><![CDATA[Flowing]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[In tonight’s class we played with being relaxed, staying unified, and flowing. It was a wonderfully focused and pleasant class, actually very relaxed, unified, and flowing in its own right. What was particularly nice was the effect it had on my energy.

I’ve been in a sort of mysterious “energetic funk” for the past few days. Not tired, not sick, but feeling sort of physically and energetically closed and guarded about something, the way one’s muscles can be tight to guard a painful joint. In class on Friday I was really stiff, nothing felt smooth, and simple movements eluded me. I felt ungrounded, off balance… I found myself holding my breath and scrunching my eyebrows. It was evident enough that I got feedback twice in class (as Uke) about relaxing into the technique instead of fighting it. Saturday was a little more fun, but still with something “stuck” that I could not identify. I sort of lived in the question over the weekend, of what “it” might be that was keeping my gut and my energy in knots, but I never happened upon an answer.

Whatever the cause, tonight’s class was the cure. I found myself breathing freely, standing solidly, moving smoothly, and smiling easily again. What a relief! And when I find myself feeling off balance next time, now I have some things I can play with to try to get back in sync with myself. :)]]></body>
	<date>12-16-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3761">
	<title><![CDATA[Taking Aikido with Us]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I love going to the dojo. It's a centered, focused, bullshit-free experience. The etiquette, aesthetic, and whole feel of of the place make being there a real pleasure. The people are friendly, supportive, committed, and working toward shared goals. There is structure, but there is constant discovery and newness, too. At the end of a trying day it's wonderful to walk through that door, take a deep breath, and put everything else aside for a while. I love being there, and I miss it when I can't go and train.

The obvious solution is to go and train more. And that's not a bad idea. But it's not possible to train all the time. There are also family, work, home, animals, community, and other interests. Oh yeah, and sleep.

More important, the point of training is not to escape from the world, it's to make the world a better place. I've been thinking lately about what I can take from Aikido training and apply to other areas of life.

I'm not talking about what people typically mean by "off-the-mat Aikido," which is more (as I understand it) about using Aikido principles to resolve conflicts in other areas of life. Blending with someone's point of view in a business meeting, for example.

I'm thinking more of what it is about training that makes that such a compelling and rewarding experience. What works - practically, logistically, spiritually, personally - about doing Aikido that makes being at the dojo such a joy? What practices can be applied to work? To horsemanship and riding? To relationships and community? Even to daily chores? Everything from the mundane, like doing stretching exercises before engaging in strenuous activities like riding, to the bigger pictures, like creating and nurturing a sense of community.

I'll be posting some thoughts on this from time to time, and would love to hear yours, too.]]></body>
	<date>12-13-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3758">
	<title><![CDATA[Enjoying Weapons Classes]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've been doing more weapons classes, and really enjoying them. There's something that feels more centered and focused about working with weapons. Well... most of the time, anyway.

[B][INDENT]We practiced tonight with the jo,
and some things were starting to flow.
But grace was not to be,
'cause I fell like a tree
when I caught my foot on Nage's toe.[/INDENT][/B]

I'm fine, thank you. ;) Just got my feet tangled up and fell plumb over sideways. Thud. 

I demonstrated just a little bit more competence during the rest of the class, at least. I don't know what it is about weapons that makes techniques involving them seem so much simpler - or at least more comprehensible. Maybe it's just that introducing a single straight line into the equation adds a hint of order or a point of reference to the usual wiggly confusion of arms and wrists. In any case, I find weapons classes to be quite a lot of fun, and very rewarding.]]></body>
	<date>12-10-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3751">
	<title><![CDATA[Love, Seduction, and Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Have I got your attention? Good. ;-) It's not a trick. This really is about love and seduction. And Aikido.

I walk at lunchtime. One day while I was walking, I was writing a haiku in my head. I went through a dozen or so versions, from various perspectives. It was shortly after an experience in class where Sensei demonstrated being connected with one's partner. It was very disconcerting, but in a very pleasant way. It got me thinking "this must be what it means to look into someone's eyes and steal their spirit." It was disarming enough that poetry was rattling around in my head long after the class ended.

[INDENT][B]You look in my eyes.
Breath leaves me, balance is gone.
You steal my spirit.[/B][/INDENT]

It wasn't (only) that my ability to resist the technique had been overcome. More like my will to resist it just crumbled. Or maybe even the desire to resist. I [I]wanted [/I]to go with it. And then was left wondering [I]what on earth that was[/I] that he had done.

Maybe everyone above 5th kyu and up is having a good snicker that I'm just figuring this out. ;-) Snicker away. I'm alway happy to create a little merriment. Is this the whole point, of all the blending, and joining, and getting inside the technique?

[INDENT][B]Look into his eyes.
Take away his breath... balance...
And steal his spirit.[/B][/INDENT]

It started to gel a little for me tonight, when Sensei was coaching my partner, kind of jokingly taking him aside, saying that the blending we were working on could feel like seduction. And that people like that, and are more willing to go with your energy, and resist less. It was a brilliant point, of course, well illustrated. It was also kind of embarrassing. Essentially, "Here, try doing this technique as though you are trying to seduce her. Go." Now seriously, I hang out with lots of older horsewomen - a raucous and earthy bunch. There's not much you can say or do to embarrass me. But I think I might've blushed a little.

It's funny, culturally, that we are comfortable bringing forth aggression, fury, conflict, and hatred. We think that's normal. We wouldn't think twice about producing a loud and fearsome kiai or well-placed atemi to evoke terror and throw our partner's concentration off, if that were called for in a class. But somehow it's terribly awkward, and a little unacceptable, to project gentleness, longing, warmth, and love, and to evoke the same in others - even when the end result is still to unbalance them, to our advantage. That's a kind of weird dichotomy, and it's kind of a shame.

When I finally arrived at a version of the haiku I was satisfied with, I realized it wasn't about kokyu ho anymore. I ended up sending it to friend who was intellectually determined not to fall in love with a woman he'd met, but his heart was telling him otherwise. I was cheering the heart on, of course:

[INDENT][B]This time I won't fall.
I take your hand, brace myself.
I fall anyway.[/B][/INDENT]]]></body>
	<date>12-08-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3742">
	<title><![CDATA[Coming Back After a Holiday]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Our dojo is closed over major holiday weekends. Over the Thanksgiving break there were no classes Thursday through Sunday. 

I went to class Wednesday night (unusual, for me), and tonight (I would normally have waited until Tuesday). Still, 4 days away seems like an awfully long time.

I noticed something interesting in both of the classes tonight, I think. We were having fun, and laughing like we always do, but there seemed to be a little different intensity and concentration. It was quieter than usual. During some exercises it sounded like a library (with soft falling, of course). 

It reminded me of the silence one hears just after a group of hungry friends sets down to dinner.]]></body>
	<date>11-30-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3741">
	<title><![CDATA[Body Awareness (Quotation)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[INDENT]"Aikido is obviously an art form that is expressed through the body, which gets information from our sensory awareness. That means feeling. … Feel what’s happening now, act on that information, and trust."
—
[I][URL="http://www.goldbergsensei.com/"]Dave Goldberg Sensei[/URL], from a past blog post “[URL="http://www.goldbergsensei.com/post/223953220/the-case-for-more-body-awareness"]The Case for More Body Awareness[/URL]”[/I][/INDENT]

There is so much of value just in this one post from October that it’s worth reading again from time to time. And if you haven’t been following Sensei’s blog, here’s your chance to start.]]></body>
	<date>11-29-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3738">
	<title><![CDATA[Gratitude]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Aikido has been the primary focus of my thoughts and activities this year. Studying and practicing Aikido has changed my life for the better in many ways. This Thanksgiving I am particularly grateful for everyone I've met so far along this path. Here are a few who come to mind:

[LIST]
[*]My parents, for enrolling me in a YMCA summer Judo program in third grade. In addition to being a fun introduction to martial arts, the reflexive breakfall response probably saved my head years later in a bad fall.

[*]Master Fred Kenyon, my Tang Soo Do teacher in 1979, for introducing me to the side of martial arts that wasn't about violence, even though I came to him to learn how to be violent. 

[*]Mark Rashid, for showing me that one's horsemanship could benefit from practicing Aikido.

[*]Jeff Davidson and Bob King Sensei for their [URL="http://www.podcastalley.com/podcast_details.php?pod_id=45858"]"Aikido - The Way of Harmony Podcast"[/URL], and all their interviewees, for teaching me a lot about Aikido before I ever set foot in a dojo.

[*]My husband, Michael, for his enthusiastic support and love.

[*]Visiting teachers, writers of books, and producers of videos, for making a wide range of knowlege and viewpoints accessible. Way too many to list, but in particular George Ledyard Sensei, for his "Principles of Aiki" DVD series.

[*]Jun Akiyama, for the worldwide community of friends and teachers here on AikiWeb.

[*]Janet, Jo, Cherie, Ashley, Tara, Mark, Robin, Carlos, Flo, Michael, Paul, Joe, Karen and a hundred others, for sharing their friendship, knowledge, and encouragement on AikiWeb, Facebook, and Twitter. 

[*]My Aikidoka friends at work, Dennis, Tony, and Brooks, for being kindred spirits.

[*]Sue and Frode, for standing at the door and wondering.

[*]Chiyomi, for setting me on a path of fitness and correct body mechanics that I certainly would not have found so quickly, if ever, without her help.

[*]Doug Hoeck[URL="http://www.hoeckpt.com/"]http://www.hoeckpt.com/[/URL], the physical therapist who helped me back to soundness after I hurt my shoulder. (And a few other times, too.)

[*][URL="http://www.fitnesswithoutwalls.com"]Sheila Schneider[/URL], for coaching me in correct body mechanics and strengthening to support my Aikido and riding.

[*]Donovan Waite Shihan, and the team at [URL="http://www.aikido3d.com"]Aikido 3D,[/URL] for creating a great tool for visualizing techniques and learning their names.

[*][URL="http://www.youtube.com/lordosaya#p/c/23DAFDF8D7FF50BC"]"LordOsaya" on YouTube[/URL], for posting his early training and tests. His "n00b" and "5th kyu grading" videos are an inspiration to new beginners.

[*]All my fellow students at [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com"]Aikido of San Diego[/URL], for being great examples and good friends.

[*]Johnathon, for having a great deal of patience when I knew nothing at all.

[*]Scott, for mentoring me through my 6th kyu test, and teaching me as much about teaching as about technique.

[*]Daniel, for walking just far enough ahead of me on the path to give me something to reach for, and for being great fun to train with.

[*]Jay, for expecting a lot, and being a great example.

[*]Megan, for being a model of how a high level of proficiency is entirely compatible with gentleness and kindness.

[*]Mike, for being just the right blend of encouraging and exacting.

[*]Jason & Cyril, for particularly fun classes, which I sometimes think of as Aiki Playtime, although there's a good bit of serious teaching and learning going on there!

[*]Andy, for steady, reliable weapons classes, where one can focus on getting the details correct.

[*]Karen, for clearly breaking down the details of techniques, and being a patient and kind teacher.  

[*]My teacher, [URL="http://www.goldbergsensei.com"]Dave Goldberg Sensei[/URL], for creating a dedicated community of friends, and guiding us with clarity, humor, love, and ruthless compassion, and for teaching excellent technique and much, much more.

[*]Robert Nadeau Shihan, for being my teacher's teacher.

[*]O Sensei, for thinking this whole thing up, and for sharing it with the world.
[/LIST]

Domo Arigato Gozaimashita 
<rei>]]></body>
	<date>11-26-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3737">
	<title><![CDATA[Scanning the Instruments]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[When flying a plane, one thing a pilot does, to be sure things are working correctly, on course, and safe, is to frequently scan the instruments. Check the altitude, check the heading, check the airspeed, etc. Look around for traffic, communicate if needed... Check the altitude, check the heading, check the airspeed, and so on. Scanning the instruments lets you detect little problems quickly, and fix them before they become bigger problems.

I'm finding that paying attention to each aspect of my Aikido would be a similarly good idea. Am I breathing freely? Does my posture have integrity? Am I centered, and grounded? Am I aligned with Uke/Nage? Try to work out the next step of that new technique... Am I breathing freely? Does my posture have integrity? Am I centered, and grounded? Am I aligned with Uke/Nage? Notice the little problems quickly, and fix them.

Inattention to one aspect or another in Aikido has similar consequences to inattention in flying. Going faster than you're capable of going safely. Heading in the wrong direction. Unintentional flight into terrain.

Doing a frequent scan of a few key points could help keep me on course. It's something I'll play with, and see how it goes.]]></body>
	<date>11-25-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3734">
	<title><![CDATA[Happy Birthday Sensei!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A thought, in appreciation of my teacher, [URL="http://www.goldbergsensei.com"]Dave Goldberg Sensei[/URL]:

[INDENT][B]"It is something to be able to paint a particular picture, or to carve a statue, and so to make a few objects beautiful; but it is far more glorious to carve and paint the very atmosphere and medium through which we look. To affect the quality of the day - that is the highest of arts."[/B]
[I]Henry David Thoreau[/I][/INDENT]

Happy Birthday Sensei!]]></body>
	<date>11-23-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3732">
	<title><![CDATA[Looking Back on 16 Days]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Well, this post is a bit late, I meant to have it up on Sunday, but Monday will have to do.

If you've been reading regularly, you know that I just completed my own personal sort of 16-day Aikido Intensive. I was on my own for 16 days, so free to ignore the niceties of civilized life. Like sitting down to meals. Or having conversations. I took the opportunity to do as much Aikido as possible, to see what that would be like.

It was a sort of vacation for me - not from work (there was plenty of work done), but a vacation from normal daily life. It was a personal challenge. Could I do that many classes? Could I keep myself healthy and sound? It was a trial run, and practice, for a 4-day seminar I'll be doing in January. It was a great opportunity, to do such a variety of classes, and gain so much experience in such a short time. It was a learning experience, in which I discovered a lot about myself. It was hard. And it was a tremendous amount of fun.

Committing to being in classes every evening meant leaving work an hour early every day. That meant getting in an hour early (and I am [I]not [/I]a morning person). It meant kicking butt during the time I had available. And I did it. The work got done, and done well.

I learned that sleep, and days off to rest and reflect, are critical, as is eating well, both for physical endurance and healing, and for being able to mentally absorb what I was learning. I need time for lessons to sink in - time to think about what I've learned.

Like any adventure, I'm glad I did it, I'm glad it's over, and I'll miss it. Tonight will be the first night since the 5th that I [I]could go to class[/I], but won't. I'll be tending to my horse's injured hoof, having dinner with my husband, maybe doing a bit of reading, and getting a good night's sleep. But I'll also be very aware of what I'm missing, and feeling a little sad about that.

Would I do it again? Not next week, no. Exactly the same way? No. But would I do it again? Hell yes.]]></body>
	<date>11-23-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3731">
	<title><![CDATA[Whew! (day 16 of 16_]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I]This is a quick post about today's classes. Tomorrow I'll put down some thoughts about the whole 16 days.[/I]

There were 2 classes today: Weapons, and open hand.

In the weapons class we did the first [URL="http://www.aikiweb.com/weapons/jo_detailed.html"]10 jo suburi[/URL]. I think I'd done them all before, but at any rate none were a mystery, so I was able to focus on doing them correctly. I need to work on my timing. I was coming in ahead of the strike, which isn't a terribly good idea. I'm feeling pretty good about most of the jo techniques I've learned. I'm sure they are very crude at this point, but I think I have the concepts down enough to practice a bit on my own, and recognize at least some of the things I might be doing wrong.

In the second class we worked mostly (entirely?) on preparing to do breakfalls. (Yay! :D  Something I have done nearly none of before today.) Not exactly [URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YMpBpM38TMg"]like this video shows[/URL], but that's the idea. I was with a group doing really easy, low stuff (like early in that video), while most of the class did more advance practice (like later in that video). Even the "easy" stuff feels really awkward and scary at first! Like "no way, I'll die." :p  LOL But by the end of class it was feeling much more natural.

It's not that I'm in any hurry to be doing spectacular high falls, but I feel a little "at risk" not knowing the basics. Like driving a car without knowing where the brakes are. So I was really glad to start working on this a little. :) 

More tomorrow about the whole experience of my 16-day "Personal Aikido Intensive" experiment.]]></body>
	<date>11-21-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3730">
	<title><![CDATA[TGIF (day 15 of 16)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This has been a very busy running-full-out kind of week at work. :crazy:  For some it's been a pretty rough time. Everyone was quite ready to get started on the weekend this afternoon. For me it's been mostly fun - the kind of work I enjoy, just lots of it, on tight deadlines. My body has had enough of sitting at a desk and using a trackball, even though I did get out for a quick walk at lunch. My brain could use a cooling-off period, too. Thankfully, I got to a good stopping point, and even entered my time for the week, before shooting out the door at 5:00.

I managed to pop a temporary crown off a molar today.  At 5:10 p.m. On a Friday. While driving in heavy traffic. On my way to the dojo. That's always the best time for that sort of thing, you know. [I]D'oh! [/I]Naturally I just stuck it back on, smooshed it down real good, and went on to class. Now I'm being very, very careful when I eat. Great.

Tonight's class was a lovely respite from the madness. (I just looked up "respite" on Dictionary.com to be sure I am using it correctly. I am. [I]"a delay or cessation for a time, esp. of anything distressing or trying; an interval of relief."[/I]) I got there early enough for plenty of warming up and stretching, and for the meditation period. When class started we did a lot of very soft rolling exercises, and then one putting each other into a forward roll, and being aware of where the connection and center was. Lots of attentiveness to keeping alignment and integrity. It was a pretty meditative, mindful sort of class.

In spite of all that, it was physically a difficult class. My left upper-back/shoulder have hurt for 2 weeks, so rolling on that side (well, for the first 10 or so times each day), or breathing deeply, both feel a little like I've gotten the wind knocked out of me. :yuck: Before class even started my left hip and right knee were unhappy (sitting for meditation didn't help). To warm up before class I started to jump up and down a few times, and my ankle immediately hurt. One partner missed my arm doing ikkyo, and poked me right between the eyes. I almost got stepped on about 4 times, but the key word there is "almost." Since [I]actually [/I]getting stepped on twice this month (once on each foot) I've been more careful about that, and got my feet out of the way this time. And I have a few new bruises. No real harm done (although my knee worries me a bit - it's an ongoing thing). Hooray for Arnica gel and ice packs.

There were a couple of techniques that I and my partner were both not feeling real good about yet when we had to stop practicing during class (shomen-uchi ikkyo, omote and ura), so we stayed after for a few minutes to work on them (and on katate-dori shihonage). I'm learning to be very happy with "better." We definitely got them "better."

I've been noticing the same thing in class, that I may not have a whole technique down, but I get some aspect of it right, or even if it's not perfect, the overall thing flows a little more smoothly. Trending in the right direction is a good thing. I'll take it.

Class ended on a more-contemplative-than-usual note, with Sensei reminding us that Aikido is not about attacking and defending, not me and you, but about the shared energy between partners. Good thoughts to take us into the weekend. :)]]></body>
	<date>11-21-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3728">
	<title><![CDATA[Hard Day, Fun Weapons Class (day 14 of 16)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Day 14 of 16. Today at work was harsh. Plowed through work all day long, and then an hour before I had to leave, I realized there was a huge chunk more that had to be done. If my day were randori, I'd let myself end up in the middle, and all the attackers were on me. I haven't been out walking for 2 days, and my legs felt like achy blocks of concrete. My left shoulder has been bugging me, so I was icing it at my desk.  I wouldn't have gone to class, except that I said I was going to. I didn't figure my brain could absorb a lot more today. I was tired and overwhelmed, and really feeling the need for rest. 

That all vanished after a minute or two on the mat. Everyone was in a wonderful mood. I had plenty of time to warm up. My front and back rolls were better tonight. I got most of the techniques at least halfway correct. I felt focused and centered, and had a very pleasant time in class. Yay!

Tonight was a weapons class with Sensei. We did tanto, which I think I've only worked with once or twice before. Even techniques that sometimes turn my mind into a pretzel seemed easier.

I was gonna go to class anyway, because I said I would, but now I'm really glad I did.

Off to dinner and a quiet evening, with more energy that I'm going to need for another intense day at the office tomorrow.]]></body>
	<date>11-19-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3727">
	<title><![CDATA[Better Day Today (13 of 16)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A much better day today (day 13 of 16). Not great, but better. And a lot of fun, in any case. There were two classes this evening, one with Sensei, and one with one of the yudansha. I managed to do some of the techniques reasonably well, but on the whole it was one of those days when I can't tell front from back, in from out, or left from right. I got a few techniques inside out, upside down, or just plain screwy. Back falls weren't happening so well, and I don't know why. Sigh...

On the positive side, I was happier with my front rolls tonight. A little rounder, a little quieter. We did a short jiyuwaza in the second class, which was fun, and I did much better than I have done recently. And kokyu dosa really seemed to come together at the end of the second class. :)  A nice way to end the evening.

Tomorrow night is a weapons class, with Sensei. I've only done one with him before - the first weapons class I ever did (I found myself in it by accident) - so I'm really looking forward to tomorrow's class.]]></body>
	<date>11-18-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3726">
	<title><![CDATA[How Not To Do It (Day 12 of 16)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[One of the woes of having the privilege to train under a teacher with an unflinching commitment to his students growth as Aikidoists is that the feedback sometimes stings.

Last night, in spite of my intention to go to class tonight, I stayed up to the wee hours to watch a meteor shower. That was stupid. Tonight, not having had enough sleep, I went to class anyway. That was arrogant and selfish.

I actually felt pretty good, and thought I was doing well for most of the class. But particularly toward the end my rolls got sloppy, and I wasn’t really focused. And I failed to notice that.

Sensei, being a perceptive and experienced teacher, noticed. He stopped class early, with a few words about how injuries are more likely when people are too tired to roll correctly, and how he doesn’t like injuries happening at his dojo.

Thank you, Sensei. It won’t happen again. My apologies to you and to my training partners.

In the words of Mark Rashid, horse trainer and aikidoka, “now I know how [I]not [/I]to do it.”

Off to get a good night’s sleep…]]></body>
	<date>11-17-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3724">
	<title><![CDATA[Two Classes, Plus a Meteor Shower]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tonight’s post is being pre-empted by a meteor shower. The quick version: Two awesome classes tonight, the first with Sensei, the second with Cyril. Both flew by. It’s great to have Sensei back. More later. Heading out to the back yard to stare at flying rocks.]]></body>
	<date>11-17-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3722">
	<title><![CDATA[Day 9 of 16: End of a Great Week]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Today, Saturday, wrapped up the first week of my 16 day Personal Aikido Intensive. I'm delighted and relieved to be able to say I've been having an awesome time, and am excited about having another full week ahead.

Next week I'll be in classes Monday through Saturday. M, W, & Sat. are two-class days. That's 9 classes, 5 of which will be with Sensei. This past week (M-Sat) he was away, and the yudansha ([URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/instructors.htm"]meet most of the teaching staff at Aikido of San Diego[/URL]) taught all the classes. I really could not have picked a better time to do this, because for the past week there has been a tremendous variety to the classes, and for the next I'll have 5 days in a row of classes with Sensei.

The whole 16-day thing kicked off with a killer Friday night class with Sensei. I think he was trying to tire us out so we wouldn't be too hard on the yudansha during the week. :p  It was an absolute blast. :D  Sensei taught again on Saturday morning, and we did several really interesting exercises, including a walking-pace randori practice that looked like "Night of the Living Aikidoka" as 6 uke wandered, zombie-like in the general direction of each nage. Then Terry, Bill, and Doug had their exams, and there was the dojo party and potluck with the Sumo suits. (If you haven't seen the video yet, you can find it on [URL="http://www.youtube.com/LindaEskin/"]my YouTube channel[/URL].)

The classes during the week were all as different as they could be, and offered many opportunities to try completely new things, hear familiar things explained in new ways, focus on different details, and so on. If I'm remembering correctly, I got to train with Megan, Jay, Cyril, Andy, and Karen. Classes were really well attended all week, too, and ran like clockwork, as usual.

This morning was a pretty fast-paced, interesting weapons class with Jay. We worked with the jo, doing still more techniques I hadn't yet seen. (I just tried to run through them all with my barn jo after feeding the critters this evening. Ah, the joys of long, dark nights and open outdoor space.) It sounds like there may be more opportunities to train with weapons, which would be great. 

Next was an open-hand class with Mike. Lots of complicated (for me... sigh...) techniques. Some I got, and some I was befuddled by. The really annoying ones were a couple that I nailed on the first attempt, and then couldn't get right again. I've been finding lately that I'm much less frustrated with myself when that happens. I just keep trying, and don't go into panicky brain cramps. The class was a lot of fun, and thankfully I ended on a good note by getting the last technique right.

After class we cleaned the dojo and headed off to our respective weekends. Next up: Two 1-hour classes on Monday, with Sensei, and Cyril. But first, chores, resting, playing with the critters, and dinner with a friend.]]></body>
	<date>11-15-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3721">
	<title><![CDATA[It's a Lot Like Line Dancing (day 8 of 16)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm going to keep the brief, because come hell or high water I am going to get 8 hours' sleep tonight.

Have you read the two diaries that make their way around the Internet every so often? One is by a cat, and one is by a dog. The cat reports the horrors of his captivity, while the dog is excited about everything that happens, all day long:

[INDENT]8:00 am - Dog food! My favorite thing!
9:30 am - A car ride! My favorite thing!
9:40 am - A walk in the park! My favorite thing! [/INDENT]
(From [URL="http://www.wanderings.net/notebook/Main/DogDiaryVsCatDiary"]http://www.wanderings.net/notebook/Main/DogDiaryVsCatDiary[/URL])

My experience of Aikido all this week has been reminding me of the dog's diary: "Woohoo! My favorite teacher.  Yay! My favorite kind of class. Awesome! My favorite people to train with. Oh, good! My favorite techniques."

---

The teacher tonight asked me (since I've been to a lot of classes this week) what techniques we had been working on in the classes. Or at least what kind of work we had been doing. I could only come up with a very short list. I really should start being more conscious of that, I suppose. So I'll try to post a very brief summary of at least a few memorable points from each class, mostly to use for my own review.

Tonight we did a lot of bokken work:
[LIST]
[*]Cutting, one direction, and then with irimi
[*]8-directions cut (happo giri)
[*]Front rolls, and back slap-falls (?) with bokken
[/LIST]
We also did a bit of open-hand jiyuwaza.

A fairly large class, with a broad range of levels, learning happo giri looks a heck of lot like a big group of folks trying to learn a line dance. It went very smoothly, and none of us whacked each other. I couldn't help but think of [URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h_nGCZ-vH0o&annotation_id=annotation_483278&feature=iv"]The Electric Slide (video on YouTube)[/URL], though, as we all stepped and turned at the right angles, all together. A music video would be hilarious.

---

The most recent exams at the dojo were last week. Exams come around every few months, with the next date being February 6th, 2010. I don't know if I'll be testing then (for 5th kyu), and I don't care. But I am setting it as a personal goal for myself to [I]be on track to test then[/I]. That means paying even more careful attention to the techniques that are on the test, training thoughtfully, etc.

We each work with a senior student when preparing for an exam. It's our responsibility to find a mentor, so I've been doing some watching and thinking about who I might want to work with some day. At least if my name does appear on the Dreaded Dojo Whiteboard, I'll have an idea of who to ask. 

To be clear, my goal is [I]not [/I]to test on February 6th. I am not even [I]hoping [/I]to test then. That's up to Sensei, of course, and I'm not in any hurry to "get there" anyway. The goal is to[I] train as if [/I]I will be testing, regardless.

OK... Off to bed. Two classes first thing in the morning. Right after my 8 hours of sleep.]]></body>
	<date>11-14-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3720">
	<title><![CDATA[Weapons Class (Day 7 of 16)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tonight's class was weapons. We usually focus on one weapon per class, and tonight it was jo (my favorite!). We did the first 12 jo suburi, and a combination of several at the end. I think I've only done 1 through 5 or 6 before tonight. I definitely had not seen the bigger swirling-the-jo-around techniques - those were fun!

I really like weapons classes, for the opportunity to work independently and slowly. It's possible to focus on the mechanics, alignment, center/base, staying relaxed, breath, posture, and so on, without the rush of doing partner practice. I wouldn't want to train like that exclusively, but it's nice to be able to break things down and work on what you need to work on. 

I also like that once I get something basically down, I can practice it at home on my own. (I keep a spare jo in the barn for that.)

Tonight I was really happy about most of what I did (not really lost at any point). I felt much more solid and settled than usual during the techniques. Between techniques, however, I caught myself being a bit busy and unfocused in the way I was moving. I've seen what that looks like in videos (it looks ridiculous and goofy :freaky: ), and have been trying to be more conscious of it. So tonight I tried my "being someone else" approach ([URL="http://www.aikiweb.com/blogs/my-path-17246/on-being-someone-else-3671/"]see that blog post[/URL]). Sort of "how might this look and feel if I were...?"  It worked beautifully. No "trying" just doing. And then feeling what it felt like to be doing things that way.

There was a second class tonight, normally for 2nd kyu and up, but tonight anyone could stay for it. I was very tempted, but also very tired. I would've been the only one below 4th kyu. I decided to stay if by doing so I would make an even number of students (6), but as luck would have it the number came out odd with me (7), so I passed on participating. Probably for the best, as I was really wiped out from little sleep and a very fast-paced day at work. It wasn't until I was on the way home I remembered that I also had to get the barn ready for a feed delivery in the morning, so it's a good thing I didn't stay later.]]></body>
	<date>11-13-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3718">
	<title><![CDATA[A Much Better Day (Day 6 of 16)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I sure didn't get everything perfect today, but I did a lot better. 5-1/2 hours of sleep instead of 4, and actual meals (big, hearty salads), meant more energy. Last night's bath, plus a few sessions with ice packs, had everything feeling better today. More water, less coffee, more focused.

Not perfect... Still not enough sleep. I didn't eat or drink enough this afternoon. Having a good dinner now, with ice packs scattered about as needed, and heading for bed ASAP. I'm glad I seem to be able to get things going in the right direction, instead of getting more sore, and more tired.

Tonight (day 6 of 16) there were two classes, so I did them both - 2 hours, total. It's the first time I've trained on a Wednesday, because I usually have another commitment in the evening. So these classes were new ones for me.

The first class (open to all students) was the biggest class I've done, aside from the Nadeau seminar in July. The second class is "only" open to 6 kyu and above. (I'm 6th kyu - that's the level where you've proven some very basic competence at simple things - graduated from kindergarten, essentially.) There really is no set pattern to how classes are run, aside from warm-ups, but this week in particular, with a variety of yudansha teaching while Sensei is on vacation, they are even more variable. It's great to hear things explained in different ways, do new exercises and techniques, and experience a little different temperament to each class. 

I finally learned something that has been driving me nuts for months. I've seen the ukemi for tai no henko done two ways - staying rooted where you are, basically, or sort of spinning to face Nage (and keep your own alignment). I failed to see the pattern to when it was done one way versus the other. It seemed capricious. I'd almost accepted it as a koan of sorts - someday it would become clear to me why each way was randomly wrong half the time. [I](I suppose I should have, um... asked?)[/I] At any rate, someone (and I've very sorry that I can't remember who) pointed out that the difference is static practice (kihon waza?) versus doing the whole thing in-motion. Oh!   

Something I was especially aware of this evening, although it's always the case, was the attention to detail, kindness, patience, and generosity of spirit of everyone I have the privilege of working with. Everyone is careful with their partners, thoughtful in giving perceptive, helpful feedback, and really warm and caring about each other. (And I'm not just saying that because I know some them read my blog. Really.) It's a wonderful environment to practice and play in.

I found out today that yet another student will be signing up for the Aikido Bridge seminar. So that makes at least 4 of us from Aikido of San Diego who are going. Yay!

For the last couple of days the muscles under my left shoulder blade have been in spasm. Patient trigger point work last night and this morning helped, but even so, by the time I got to the dojo it was the sort of thing that made me not want to even take a deep breath. I considered not going to class, but I'm too stubborn to wimp out. Fortunately, like last Friday, a good workout with a lot of rolling got it feeling nearly perfect. Much, much better. By some great stroke of luck, I was also able to schedule a massage today for Saturday afternoon. Really looking forward to that! 

In the second class we did a simple, short jiyuwaza (freestyle series of attacks). By that time I was pretty tired, and really did a rather pathetic job of it. One thing I am proud of, however, is that I was able to mostly stay connected visually and energetically with my partner, in both roles (Uke/Nage). I was focusing on them, not the attack. As Nage I think I managed to mostly keep coming in and offering, not backing down. But then I couldn't seem to manage a single coherent technique. Oh well...

We had the opportunity to try a two-uke jiyuwaza (randori?) at the end of the second class. I would have loved to done it (in either role), but I was just too exhausted and dehydrated (in spite of drinking water all through class) to do anything else. I hope we have the chance again, when I'm not wiped out.

All in all, a tremendously fun evening. I left the dojo already looking forward to tomorrow night. But for now, a hot shower and sleep.]]></body>
	<date>11-12-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3717">
	<title><![CDATA[Training for Training]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Before I got horses, I got chickens as "practice livestock," to see if I was up for the whole feeding-and-cleaning-every-day-and-night thing. I made some mistakes, and learned a lot. After a year, and still enthusiastic, I tore out trees, got the yard graded, put in a barn and fencing, and dove into horse ownership better prepared for having had that experience with the chickens.

In addition to being fun and worthwhile on its own merits, this two-week period of training at every opportunity (now at only day 5 of 16) serves a similar purpose. This time it's to help me be more prepared for the [URL="http://aikidobridge.com/"]Aikido Bridge seminar in January[/URL]. And true to form I've made some mistakes and am learning a lot. A few lessons so far:
[LIST]
[*]Do not take on any other projects. Like grocery shopping, laundry, or cooking food. Get that stuff out of the way well beforehand.
[*]Do not make commitments that keep you up into the wee hours. Aikido on 4 hours' sleep and 10 cups of coffee is way less fun that you might imagine.
[*]Get plenty of sleep for at least the week before. Going into a more-intense-than-usual training period coming off a week of sleep deprivation is stupid.
[*]Don't plan anything at all in the evenings. Feed the critters, take a hot bath, go to bed with ice packs on anything ouchy.
[*]Eat as well as possible. Living on snacks (healthy ones though they may be) is not a good strategy for having lots of energy and endurance.
[*]Warm up and stretch in the mornings. Being tight and achy before class usually leads to guarded rolls and falls, which leads to more tightness and discomfort.
[*]Remember what trigger points are, and how to use them.
[*]Do not try to sneak in a few hours of extra work "in your spare time." There isn't any.
[/LIST]
I'm sure there are more, but I'm too tired to think of them. Time for some stretching, a hot bath, and, well, 6 hours sleep. Sigh.]]></body>
	<date>11-11-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3713">
	<title><![CDATA[A Little More Freedom]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[There is class on Monday (day 4 of 16), but because of a prior commitment I won't be there. So no training notes for day 4. It's the only day I'll be missing class.

Instead, I offer this, about my recent experience of trying to write a little information about my background:

[INDENT][B]Leaving Some Things Behind[/B]

I started to explain who I
Have been throughout the years

Justify my limitations
Perhaps excuse my fears

The stories told of loss and pain
And how life wasn't fair

Like dirty water to a fish
The stories were just there

But the more I wrote
The more it seemed
Those stories weren't mine

They'd lost their hold
And left me free 
My own life to define

[I]Linda Eskin
Copyright © 2009[/I][/INDENT]

I know, intellectually, that we need not be defined by our pasts. We can start now, where we are, and create our own futures anew. I had [I]known [/I]that, but still felt ensnared by a litany of Perfectly Good Reasons for being who I was. They were some really solid reasons, too.

But when I sat down recently to list these things they suddenly seemed insignificant, powerless, and pointless. Not like something I should [I]try to ignore[/I], and move ahead in spite of, but truly meaningless, at a gut level. It felt ridiculous even to be writing them down, and so I stopped.

I’m sure there will be times when stories from my past will seem more present and real than they do right now. But I won’t forget this.]]></body>
	<date>11-09-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3712">
	<title><![CDATA[Go Out and Play]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Day 3 of 16. No classes on Sunday. A quotation for the day:
[B][INDENT]"The delight of mountains, rivers, grasses, trees, beasts, fish, and insects is an expression of the Art of Peace."[/INDENT][/B]
[I]Morihei Ueshiba (O Sensei)[/I]]]></body>
	<date>11-08-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3711">
	<title><![CDATA[Sumo Suit Smackdown at the Dojo]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[On Saturday morning we had a really interesting class, with lots of fun exercises, including a sort of 6-uke slow/easy randori, which was really enlightening. Then there were exams - two for 6th kyu, and a 4th kyu. Dang, that 4th kyu test looks challenging (and exhausting).

After class we had a BBQ/potluck party, with inflatable Sumo suits. We often have some kind of party after exams, plus this time Jason and Karen (the two in the video, along with Sensei) were celebrating 10 years in Aikido. A fantastic time (and lunch) was had by all.

You can see more videos of all the fun on my YouTube Channel, under Aikido of San Diego: [URL="http://www.youtube.com/LindaEskin"]http://www.youtube.com/LindaEskin[/URL]]]></body>
	<date>11-08-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3709">
	<title><![CDATA[Working Hard, Playing Hard]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This is the day one of my 15-day personal Aikido Intensive. Tonight included lots to think about - refining some well-known techniques and exploring some new ones. Awesome class. After a very challenging week at work (at lot of which was engaging and rewarding, but still…), I really needed it, too.

Several of the techniques we worked on involved falling or rolling - quite a lot of it. I had been kind of stiff and achy all day, and the first few rolls I did before class weren't pretty (or pleasant) at all. But by the end of the class my partner and I were playing pretty hard (by my standards, at least), and it was sheer fun. And afterward I felt a lot better than I did when I walked in.

As I was driving home I thought about my first phone conversation with [URL="http://www.goldbergsensei.com"]Dave Goldberg Sensei[/URL]. I knew I wanted to do Aikido, and was looking into training at [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com"]Aikido of San Diego[/URL]. I had heard somewhere about a low-impact class, and thought that might be what I needed, since I've had an abundance of foot, arm, hand, and shoulder problems (with all the associated PT, surgery, orthotics, etc.). Sensei explained that he'd tried that kind of class at some point, but he preferred that things be more inclusive, with everyone in the same classes. He said I wouldn't be expected to do anything I couldn't handle.

Part of that conversation was some nonsense from me about only being able to train once a week, and would that even be worth doing - and would he even have me as a student if that's all I could make time for. Thankfully, he said "A little Aikido is better than no Aikido," and invited me to come observe a class.

I had several concerns about doing Aikido. Because of foot problems I rarely wear sandals or go barefoot, even around the house. Walking from the car to the dojo in flip-flops was the first time in several years I'd worn anything other than fairly rigid, supportive shoes or boots. I felt naked. I considered taping my feet, but hoped I could handle working on the mat without that.

I've also had trouble with vertigo. On a few occasions it's been so bad I could not stand up, walk, or even look around. Completely debilitating and miserable. Last Christmas I spent two days sitting still and staring into the distance. When I managed to walk to the barn to feed Rainy and the donkeys I was so disoriented I had to hang onto things, and got seasick anyway. It's harmless, but awful. I've done months of PT for it, worked with vestibular disorders specialists, etc. I couldn't even lie down flat without risking starting the spinning all over again.

In class, of course, the first thing to do was to learn rolls, with one of the senior students. I didn't know what would happen when I tried - if the dojo would start spinning, if I wouldn't be able to stand up… And I told them so, because seeing someone in that condition can be fairly worrisome to one who isn't familiar with it. I had even arranged to call for a ride home, just in case I wasn't able to drive.

After that first class, in May 2009, I had some pretty sore muscles, but nothing injured my shoulders or hands. My feet felt OK on the mat. And the rolling didn't start the world spinning. (Woohoo!) Most of those problems are things I still need to take care about, but they haven't stopped me, and all have improved since I started doing Aikido.

I got to thinking about all this as I was driving home. How lucky I am to be able to do this at all, physically. How grateful I am for Sensei's stand on inclusive classes, and for giving a "one night a week" student a chance. How wonderful it is to just feel good in my body, even (especially) while playing pretty hard.

So if you see me grinning like an idiot while getting tossed across the dojo, now you'll know why.]]></body>
	<date>11-07-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3706">
	<title><![CDATA[My own 2-week Aikido Intensive]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Thanks to a happy fluke in my calendar, my next two weeks will be my own personal Aikido Intensive. It means being at work an hour early (and I am [I]not [/I]a morning person). I’ll have to kick butt on caring for Rainy and the donkeys, and on doing my strengthening exercises in the mornings and evenings. But I know it will be well worth it. It’s also going to be a particularly intense time at work, with some long hours, so Aikido will be a good re-centering time each day. And that's all my days will be - sleep, chores, exercises, work, Aikido, critters, work, sleep.

It starts this Saturday with an Aikido class, watching exams, & dojo party (and making a salad Friday night). There will be Sumo suits! Naturally I’ll try to get a cool photo or video to post. :p 

Next week I plan to train Tuesday through Saturday. Sensei will be away, so the classes will be taught by several of the yudansha. I’ve trained with most of them before, and am looking forward to experiencing their whole spectrum of approaches to Aikido and teaching throughout the week. There’s only one I have not had the opportunity to work with yet, but have been wanting to. I think he’s teaching two of the classes. Woohoo!

The following week Sensei is back, so the week will have an entirely different awesome quality to it. I plan to train Monday through Saturday that week.

I hope I can do that much! I’m really excited about seeing how near-daily training is different from the sporadic 2 or 3 days a week I’ve been doing. It’s going to mean being really careful not to injure myself, and aggressively staying on top of any sore, achy, or irritated bits. There are going to be lots of ice packs involved, since I don’t do anti-inflammatories. Oh, and getting plenty of sleep - that will be an interesting challenge.

I’m planning to blog every day for the two weeks, if for no other reason than to help with my own recall of everything. It might be pretty straight training notes. We’ll see.]]></body>
	<date>11-05-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3704">
	<title><![CDATA[Be gladdened.]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[B][INDENT]"Create each day anew by clothing yourself with heaven and earth, bathing yourself with wisdom and love, and placing yourself in the heart of Mother Nature. Your body and mind will be gladdened, depression and heartache will dissipate, and you will be filled with gratitude."[/INDENT][/B]

[I]Morihei Ueshiba (O Sensei), from The Art of Peace, translated and edited by John Stevens[/I]

A month ago I would've thought of this as some lovely idealistic vision, but it's becoming my real daily experience.]]></body>
	<date>11-04-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3700">
	<title><![CDATA[How Aikido is Changing Me]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I]Note: I also posted this at [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com"]www.grabmywrist.com[/URL], where the text was accompanied by a photo of a butterfly on an orange blossom in my backyard.[/I]

There’s been a discussion on AikiWeb lately, “[URL="http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/showthread.php?p=244503"]Aikido Changed My Life![/URL]“ about the ways one has been changed by Aikido.

I have been practicing Aikido for only a little over 6 months. Even in that short time I have had many experiences of not recognizing myself, more so in the past few weeks.

The changes I can explain are changes I have intentionally made - better fitness, weight loss, a more disciplined approach to some things at work and home. (I shared some of these in a post before my first exam “[URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/post/197906348/reflections-at-the-1st-milestone"]Reflections at the First Milestone[/URL]”, and will share more recent ones another time.) In making these changes my practice of Aikido is a piton* in the rock face - a source of support and safety that enables me to climb higher.

But there are many changes I cannot explain. I’m happier, more settled, less cynical, more focused. I’m more aware of the emotions of people around me, more willing to be open and vulnerable with people, filled with gratitude, deeply touched by kindness. I’ve grown, and watched others grow. Things that were hard are easy. I never expected this.

This path is taking me through some unfamiliar but breathtaking territory.

[I]*Pitons (“PEE-tahn”) are those metal pins that mountain climbers pound into cracks and then hook onto to keep them from falling to their deaths if they slip.[/I]]]></body>
	<date>11-02-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3697">
	<title><![CDATA[Your Teacher is Always Right]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Since my last post was about looking for the lesson in everything your teacher does, I'll expand on that a bit with a realization I came to recently about being a student.

I'm a user experience analyst by day, writer, former technical communicator, and amateur horse trainer for fun. In each of those contexts I hear the same kinds of statements: "They're just lazy." "They're too dumb to understand." "They're being difficult on purpose."

When you are a writer, user experience designer, teacher, or horse trainer, and your reader, user, student, or horse isn't "getting it" (let's just call that whole group "students"), it's always useful to assume that the problem lies with you.

It's not that every failure of a student [I]is [/I]your fault, but coming from that assumption is where you find your power to influence the interaction. This is a point I've been making for years. [I]You [/I]aren't using language they understand. [I]You [/I]are asking more than they can do at the moment. [I]You [/I]haven't sufficiently grabbed their attention. [I]You [/I]haven't engaged them sufficiently in learning.

If, in your mind, your student "really is too dumb to understand" there's nothing you can do about that but whine and justify your failure. But if it's that you are presenting the subject in a way they aren't able to grasp, then you have the power to change that. By adjusting your communication style so that this student (however dumb they may "really" be) can understand, you can reach them. If users aren't reading your 400-page manual, maybe it's because it's deadly dull, and hard to browse through quickly. Change that, and maybe they'll turn to the manual instead of calling Support. If your horse is "being a pain" maybe you've made learning difficult and frustrating for them. Figure out how to make it easy and rewarding, and watch their "attitude problem" disappear.

These are things I've been saying for ages. It's your responsibility to reach them. If you aren't reaching them, it's your fault.

Recently, as a new Aikido student, I've seen online several instances of students (often total newbies like myself) who have decided that their teacher isn't quite all there when it comes to teaching, managing the dojo, or executing techniques. Or sometimes there are just subtle variations in things different teachers or sempai say or demonstrate, which lead a student to doubt that person.

In watching these discussions, and my own reaction to receiving conflicting information, I've discovered an equally powerful complement to the above position: [I]Your teacher is always right.[/I]

Yes, of course there are teachers who should not be teaching. And if you really have one, leave, and find a better teacher. But in general, when you are the student, the most useful position to adopt is that your teacher knows what the heck they are talking about. As above, it's not that your teacher[I] is[/I] always right, but by assuming that they are you stand to benefit the most from their teaching.

If something doesn't seem logical or effective to you, you [I]could [/I]say to yourself "This doesn't make any sense." If your teacher presents a technique that's different from how you've seen it done somewhere else, you could decide that your teacher doesn't have a clue. So there you are, with a clueless teacher who's teaching things that don't make sense. End of story on them - and on your learning.

The more useful position, that your teacher is always right, leaves you asking the questions like "I don't understand this -what am I missing?" or "This is different from what I'm used to seeing - how is this way better?"

Instead of shutting down, mentally, you are engaged in ongoing exploration and questioning, looking for opportunities to expand your learning.]]></body>
	<date>10-31-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3692">
	<title><![CDATA[Look for the Lesson]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[In any interaction with Sensei I assume there is a lesson - that Sensei knows exactly what he's doing, and there's a point to it.

In a recent class we were doing an exercise, each walking straight toward Sensei and turning tenkan to avoid his bokken swings, sideways at our midsections. I did OK the first time through, and got back in the end of the line.

The next time I was up I was ready. Was it going to be right or left? Watching for any sign... a shift of weight, tightening of arm, or settling of a hip. I knew what was coming, and was ready for it. I tried to be equally ready to tenkan out of the way to whichever side, depending on the direction of the swing. When it was my turn I moved toward Sensei trying not to favor either way. Trying to not anticipate one or the other, left or right...

And he tsuki'ed directly into me.

I'm sure he had to pull the thrust to keep me from impaling myself, even though I folded in the middle and backed off. And the class and I had a good laugh. Dammit. I didn't see that coming.

I can't say whether he really meant it as a lesson, or if he was bored with going to the left and right, or was just having a little fun. But I took it as a lesson - although it didn't quite sink in until a couple of days later, when I sort of got the joke and started laughing as I was feeding the horse and donkeys. I had been ready for something I "[I]knew[/I]" was coming. I was planning what I was going to do, based on my expectation of what I was sure would happen. I was not open, perceiving, and responding to what was actually happening. Now I get it!

As far as I'm concerned, the exercise was a direct, intentional lesson in what can happen when I think instead of feel. Sensei knew exactly what was going on in my head, and pointed out the potential consequences in an immediate and visceral (or eviscerating?) way that I was sure to remember.

Did he [I]really [/I]mean it that way? Maybe not. I don't actually believe that teachers always do everything so deliberately. It's just that it's most useful for my own training to assume that they do, and always be looking for the lesson.

It wouldn't surprise me a bit if he [I]did [/I]do it very much on purpose.

I'm grateful for having "gotten the point," in any case.]]></body>
	<date>10-29-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3683">
	<title><![CDATA[Commit first, then figure it out]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Something I have found fun and useful in several areas of life (music, riding, and now Aikido) is to commit to doing or participating in something, and then figure out how to make it happen. For instance, I might commit to being at a weekend horse camping event. Then I have to get after making sure my truck and trailer are ready to go, get my horse used to loading in the trailer, etc. I don't wait until I'm ready, and then commit. I commit, and then use that commitment as a reason to get off my butt and get ready.

I recently signed up for a 3-day riding clinic in March. I've done virtually nothing with Rainy (my horse) for months. So having a date in early spring when we have to be capable of participating in clinic (plus having the truck and trailer current on maintenance, etc.) is a good goal. I've promised to be there, and paid in full. Time to start getting ready.

Now just this past week I have signed up for the [URL="http://aikidobridge.com/"]Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar (http://aikidobridge.com/). [/URL]It's in mid-January. I figured with 3 months to work on everything in general, and to get in better shape, I should be OK to participate in a 4-day seminar without dropping dead. :p  I just need to put in some extra time, focus during class. It's a killer opportunity, but it's just a seminar. No biggie.

And then the videos I ordered arrived, of the same seminar from past years. Uh oh. :eek: Mind you, I just did my 6th kyu exam. Nevermind "beginner's mind," I have beginner's everything. The video shows about 50 yudansha and about 2 mudansha, really going at it. On tatami mats (read: not very forgiving at all). :eek:  LOL I really am going to die now. I can see the headline: "Local Woman Dies of Humilation and Bruises" :dead: 

I'm kidding. I really am looking forward to it, and very excited about participating. But dang I'm glad I have 3 months! Getting my rolls and falls as soft as possible is one thing I'll really be focusing on. If I start getting sore there I'll get tense and guarded/defensive, and that won't help anything. And luckily I'll have a few weeks in November where I can really step up my training, from my usual 2 days a week to nearly every day. And I've been slacking off a little on stretching, strengthening, and icing. No more of that. Back at it.

As with any of these things I commit to doing, it's great motivation for doing whatever it takes to get prepared. This looks a little deeper than the deep ends I'm used to jumping in, but I can swim even in deep water. :D]]></body>
	<date>10-24-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3671">
	<title><![CDATA[On Being Someone Else]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A bunch of random-but-related thoughts have been swarming around my head lately like so many butterflies that won't alight long enough to permit a decent photograph. So I'll try doing what I've done before here when I can't herd ideas into coherence - I'll just blurt them all out and see if there's anything useful among the lot.

[B]Thought #1: [/B]When I was preparing for my first exam (6th kyu) one of the things I had to work on was basic jiyuwaza (dealing with free-form attacks by Uke - all simple grabs at this level).

Jiyuwaza was really intimidating for me. It wasn't fear of getting hit or grabbed - I've done sparring before (and besides, I knew my mentor/uke wasn't out to get me, really). It was fear of looking stupid, not being able to think of what to do. Brain cramps, basically. It felt to me like being asked to sing a song I didn't know. I didn't know what to do. Deer in the headlights time. Hated it. My mentor, Scott, would suggest practicing jiyuwaza, and I'd melt into a heap of whining about how I hated it, and wasn't any good at it. "Oh no, not that."

Luckily I recognized that for what it was. In addition to Scott's very capable coaching about what to actually do during jiyuwaza, one thing that really helped me was dressage coach Jane Savoie's advice to say to myself "I love doing jiyuwaza! It's my favorite thing! This is my chance to have fun and play!" Yes, I actually said that stuff every time - in a convincing enough way that my brain started to buy into it. (Bless Scott's heart for not falling over laughing.)

Another thing (finally, we get to the point…) that helped me tremendously was that I'd recently done jiyuwaza in class with one of the yudansha who has a particularly fun and self-assured presence. You fall or roll, and he's Right There when you come up, hand outstretched, with a look like "well, what are you doing goofing around on the mat - let's go!" Scott cited him as an example to follow. That was great, because while I didn't know quite what he did, exactly, I did know how it felt. So rather than trying to do the things he was doing, I just tried being him. It worked beautifully. The "doing" came along with the "being" without thinking about it.

[B]Thought #2: [/B]Robert Nadeau Shihan, in his interview for the "Aikido - The Way of Harmony Podcast" (also available on iTunes) discusses the futility of trying to do something one cannot do. One example from the podcast is learning to deal better with pressure. Rather than trying to handle pressure as our current self (which we've already determined has a problem with pressure), we can instead grow into someone who can deal with pressure better. I'm starting to see, I think, that one can make that jump to a new "someone who" very quickly in some situations.

[B]Being too aggressive:[/B] A few classes ago I "got caught" being too… forceful? aggressive? I was frustrated, and trying to make a technique work by muscle and speed (as if I had any chance of that working). Eyes hard. Breath short. Not controlled. Not cool. No aiki happening. Sensei of course saw that and called me on it. (Thank you, Sensei.) (Grrr, Self.) Not what I'm training for.

[B]Being too floppy: [/B]In a seminar on Connection earlier this month (see my post about that) we used video. Aside from all the usual "I look like a goof" stuff one notices in video, I saw that what I was doing was not consistent with how I felt, or what my intention was. I looked floppy, uncentered, unbalanced… Acck! I don't feel like a floppy, uncentered, unbalanced person, but there you go. And really, what I saw on the video was consistent with some ongoing problems I've been having in my technique, like failing to grab solidly, not wrapping my thumb around to hold on. Wimpy, weak, unsure. Yuck.

[B]Noticing a way of being:[/B] Recently I noticed something about the way Sensei was working with ukes. (See my earlier post "Vet Tech Analogy") From that post:  "There was no rushing, no anger, no malicious intent. What I saw was calm, composed compassion, along with undeniable power and absolute control. It suddenly reminded me of watching a veterinary technician (vet tech) control an animal patient." It was exactly what I was not doing. It's exactly what I want to be doing. Soft, controlled, effective Aikido. But until I thought of "vet tech" I didn't really have an image for that. It seemed to be a huge collection of behaviors to be learned (and it is that, too, I know), rather than a unified way of being.

[B]Thought #3:[/B] Wendy Palmer Sensei, in her book "The Intuitive Body - Discovering the Wisdom of Conscious Embodiment and Aikido," suggests ways of letting our bodies teach our minds. One of the things we can learn from out bodies is about having certain qualities. Rather than complaining "I wish I weren't so scattered," or even making the more affirmative statement "I have great focus," Palmer Sensei suggests asking of our bodies "What would it be like if I had more focus?" and feeling what our bodies have to tell us. We can do this with any quality we want to embody.

Palmer Sensei suggests picking one quality at a time, but I have two that sort of grabbed me. The first is tenderness. "What would it be like if I had more tenderness?" That's kind of missing for me, so I'm trying on that question. But that didn't feel quite complete. Something else was missing. Firmness. "What would it be like if I had more firmness." Hmmm…

[B]Putting things together:[/B] So for the past few classes (and everywhere else) I've been playing with these ideas. "How would it feel to handle Uke like a vet tech would handle a big, strong, scared puppy?" "What would it be like if I had more tenderness?" "What would it be like if I had more firmness?" It's definitely a different way of thinking than trying to remember to do things differently: grab more solidly, stay soft and quiet, etc. but it seems to be helping with those things. I'm starting to see the possibilities in "being someone who" does things the way I'd like to be doing them. It's an idea I'll be playing with more.

[I]"Don't do something different, be someone different."[/I]]]></body>
	<date>10-21-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3660">
	<title><![CDATA[Connection (and Riding)]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I’m just back from this morning’s seminar on Connection, and things are only just starting to sink in. So I’m sure I’ll have more thoughts (or feelings?) on this eventually. But here are a few things that stood out for me at first glance.

We did an exercise where we did shomenuchi ikkyo, ura waza, but without touching each other. Just staying together through the technique in a sort of magnetic way. It was pretty easy and slow at first, and as Nage it felt a bit like operating a marionette (a puppet operated at a distance by strings). But then we switched partners and I was working with someone doing it quite a bit faster. And I, when I was Uke, had to keep up! It required a lot more alertness, and willingness to actively move with Nage’s direction. He’d spiral backward and downward quite fast (it seemed), and I had to move to stay with him. A strange experience, throwing oneself!

A little light went on there. I have been relying on Nage to physically move me through techniques. Not actively resisting, but not actively extending into the technique, either. Shutting down. Being done unto.

Later, while doing kotegaeshi, I injured the back of my hand - I think by getting behind Nage’s motion, instead of staying with him. No biggie, but it blew up a little, so I sat out for a while to do the ice, pressure, & elevation thing. It gave me a chance to watch and let things sink in.

Everyone was working on a reversal technique, and exploring the idea that staying connected and active is what lets you be (as Uke) in a position to do the reversal. It occurred to me that staying actively engaged and connected, instead of shutting down and being done unto, is one of the things missing in my riding. I already knew this on one level - that I tend to shut down when “things get a little Western.” It’s one of the specific things I came to Aikido to work on.

Today’s work gave me a slightly different perspective on it. I’ve been thinking in terms of “don’t shut down.” But that doesn’t give me anywhere to go. “Not shutting down” is hard thing to [I]do[/I] - because it’s a negative. (Go ahead and try not shutting down.) One of the things I know in horse training is that you can’t train a horse to not do something. You have to train it to do something else that is incompatible with the undesirable behavior. Something like “lower your head in response to rein pressure” is trainable, where “don’t toss your head” isn’t. The head lowering precludes head tossing.

I’d even thought, in my things I want to get out of Aikido, as far as “be able to take effective action in the face of overwhelming physical threat” (like when your 1,400 lb horse is bucking across an open meadow). But that’s hard to [I]do[/I], too, because it’s too vague. Or maybe it a consequence of something. There’s a step missing.

“Stay connected with your partner,” on the other hand, is something specific one can do. It’s specific and immediate (or ongoing, actually). It naturally precludes shutting down and being done unto. So there’s something I can work on. Staying connected with my horse. Going from “being bucked with” to “back in control” is a reversal of sorts, one that connection makes possible.

There was a lot more. It amazes me how much one can get out of two hours of focused work. I did a few things I’m kind of pleased with, some I’m not. In a few cases the things I’m pleased with were things I was doing wrong (or poorly), but could at least tell that I was doing them wrong, and was able to make some corrections. There’s a lot about what I saw on the video (no, it’s not on YouTube) that is in jarring conflict with how I see myself, and how I want to be seen. One of the things Aikido has helped me discover is that abject public mortification won’t kill me. Don’t hide from it, learn from it. There’s never any concern that I might run out of things to work on. ;-)]]></body>
	<date>10-11-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3659">
	<title><![CDATA[Vet Tech Analogy]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[Originally posted on my blog www.grabmywrist.com, on 10/10/2009, at 4:25 p.m., when AikiWeb was down.]

I’ve heard it said that Aikido is more like police work than like the military. You want to control a bad situation, keeping everyone as safe as possible. There’s nothing comparable to storming in and taking out the enemy. It’s an analogy that resonates with me, and has been very useful in explaining to non-Aikido friends why my training isn’t about fighting or beating people up.

But I’ve noticed something in the past week that brought another image to mind. First, I was watching Sensei working with some of the yudansha. There was no rushing, no anger, no malicious intent. What I saw was calm, composed compassion, along with undeniable power and absolute control. It suddenly reminded me of watching a veterinary technician (vet tech) control an animal patient. Vet techs have a variety of techniques they use to immobilize a animal so it can be safely treated without hurting them, the veterinarian, or itself. The animal is absolutely controlled, but with no intent to cause it harm, only kindness and sympathy. It’s done firmly, so there’s no question in the animal’s mind that it might be able to get loose, but no more force is used than necessary. It’s interesting that the animal usually feels safe, and calms down.

Later I got to experience being Uke as Sensei demonstrated a technique. The analogy held up. There was no pain, or even force, but there was also no question of resisting, and a sense of total safety.

It’s easy to imagine some of the sense of safety being due to working with someone you trust implicitly. But cats don’t trust vet techs, and they still seem to have that experience.

If we can use Aikido with actual attackers (in whatever context), to evoke that calming sense of utter control and safety… Well, it’s an image I’ll keep around and play with, to see how well it fits.]]></body>
	<date>10-11-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3658">
	<title><![CDATA[Don't Push So Hard Against the World]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[In the last few days I'm finally finding my feelings and discoveries about the [B]Aikido In Focus [/B]seminar, called [I]"Relax, it's Aikido"[/I] (August 23rd, 2009, one in [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/focus.htm"]a series of seminars by Dave Goldberg Sensei, Aikido of San Diego[/URL]) forming themselves into coherent thoughts. OK, so I think slowly.

I didn't know what to expect from this seminar. Relaxation is something I knew I needed to work on in my riding, at least, and it was bound to be a pleasant enough experience, so I signed up. I regularly go to a 90-minute class, and the seminar was only 2 hours, so I wasn't expecting miracles.

But I knew immediately that something deeply important had happened to me in the seminar. The best I could do at the time was to see it as a mental image of hands lifting a stuck Roomba (a wandering robotic vacuum cleaner) out of a corner. Or perhaps more poetically, a little fish being helped from a tide pool into the open sea. (Funny that I think "kohai" sounds like it should be the name of a little fish.) There was a distinct sense of being set free from a tightly bounded existence, and having a vastly expanded space in which to live and play with others. I noticed friends laughing, and it made me happy. I seemed more receptive to the emotional states, both positive and negative, of people around me. Something happened, but I couldn't say what it was.

There's very little of the visceral, experiential "doing" of Aikido that I can put to words. I think that's why I end up writing poetry about a lot of it - because that's evocative, not rational or explanatory. This is really challenging for me, because the way I get things into memory frequently is by writing them down. So I sometimes feel like have only the most tenuous hold on newly-gained knowledge until I have put it into my own words. And when friends have asked me what we covered in the seminar, the best I could do was to blabber incoherently that it was a lot of fun. I could say there were these really cool exercises we did, but I couldn't even describe those in any context that would make sense.

One of the things that started off this crystallization of amorphous thoughts just recently has been my discovery of a beautiful song, with this chorus:

[B]Don't push so hard against the world.
You can't do it all alone,
And if you could, would you really want to,
Even though you're a Big Strong Girl?

(Come on, come on, lay it down.)
The best made plans...
(Come on, come on, lay it down.)
Are your open hands.[/B]

From [I]"Big Strong Girl"[/I] by [URL="http://www.debtalan.com"]Deb Talan[/URL], on the CD [I]"A Bird Flies Out"[/I] (available on iTunes)

The seminar itself was great fun. Very pleasant and relaxing (as one might expect). We started with a sort of whole-body inventory - finding tension and letting it go, getting centered, breathing. When everyone was in a soft, relaxed space we moved on to doing lots of fun exercises, mostly interacting with each other. I could describe who did what, and how it all looked, but that would be beside the point.

It's telling that when I mention or think of the name of the seminar, I almost always get it wrong. I remember it as being about [I]"feeling" [/I]- about letting yourself feel. Sensei created a safe, trustworthy environment in which to experience relinquishing control, and going with the feel of things. We got to experience [I]responding [/I]naturally and effectively by [I]feeling [/I]each others' movement and energy, moment-by-moment, and not trying to decide ahead of time, by [I]thinking[/I], what we [I]should [/I]be doing.

The way I see it there are two ends to the spectrum that was revealed: A tense, forceful, controlled way of being versus being relaxed, open, and following the feel (an expression horsepeople will recognize). As you might have guessed by now, I tend to live on the controlled end. I know how things are supposed to be, and have some pretty good attachment to trying to make them be that way. That can be fine in some circumstances, like knowing and following traffic laws so nobody gets killed. But as a way of life it's somewhat limiting.

OK, it's a lot limiting. Days after the seminar, still on a vague sort of indescribable high from the experience, I finally started to see that bigger picture, and it hit me hard: I haven't been letting myself feel. I habitually operate from already knowing, and forcing, rather than from perceiving and allowing. In response to a lot of physical pain over many years I mostly stopped hearing what my body had to say. I like people, and am happy to interact with them, but I don't let them affect me, really. My emotional dial only goes from 3 to 7. In shutting out grief and disappointment I've also shut out joy and hope.

[I]I haven't been letting myself feel.[/I]

And then there I was, suddenly in tears, realizing the cost of living like that, and seeing the potential in letting that go. I've never experienced that level of emotion from a... a what... Epiphany seems too strong, too cliche, but yeah, that's really it. ("[I]a sudden, intuitive perception of or insight into the reality or essential meaning of something, usually initiated by some simple, homely, or commonplace occurrence or experience.[/I]") A sudden insight about who am, how I am, bought on by the simple experience of relaxing, and letting myself [I]feel, and act on feeling[/I] for a couple of hours.

The experience opened a broad crack in a thick wall. There's light streaming through, and I can get to the other side, but I have a lot of work ahead. It still seems natural to hang out on this familiar, comfortable side of the wall most of the time. But with ongoing conscious examination of my experience and actions it should become easier to stop "pushing so hard against the world."

I suppose that perceiving the reality of a situation, including movement, direction, balance, and energy of one's partner, could have implications for one's Aikido as well. Maybe the "best made plans" aren't plans at all, but "our open hands."]]></body>
	<date>10-07-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3656">
	<title><![CDATA[Discovering Connection]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I suppose it's true that in any pursuit, the more you learn, the more you realize how little you know.

At a few points thus far in my short Aikido journey I've had glimpses what might lie along the road ahead. Vague outlines of the tops of distant mountains. A barely perceptible pre-dawn glow from a city beyond the forest. Is that the wind, or the roar of a far-off river?

I had one of those glimpses recently, when Sensei demonstrated in a simple technique the difference that connection makes. No connection. Connection. Twenty seconds out of a ninety-minute class, and the impact was profound. More about that, please!

From this shore I've seen a bird fly in from another land, away over the horizon. [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/focus.htm"]Next Sunday we row out to begin exploring it.[/URL] I can't wait.]]></body>
	<date>10-04-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3653">
	<title><![CDATA[Aikido? Or Riding?]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've had this idea rattling around in my head for quite a while. I think students of either discipline will recognize these points - and will probably be able to cite many more.

[B]Aikido? Or Riding?[/B]
[I]Linda Eskin[/I]

Heels down, chest open, eyes forward. Breathe.
Relax your shoulders, soften your elbows. Breathe.

Look where you want to go
And you will go there.

Close your hands.
You're not holding a teacup.

Don't look at the ground.
The ground isn't going anywhere.

Drop your center.
Get deeper, more stable, grounded.

Let your eyes be soft.
Take in the entire scene.

Be straight and light, 
Like a string is lifting the top of your head.

Heels down, chest open, eyes forward. Breathe.
Relax your shoulders, soften your elbows. Breathe.

Be firm and clear.
Direct your partner with certainty.

The stick is not for hitting.
It's an extension of your body.

Flow with your partner.
Feel their energy and go with it.

Ask for no more
Than your partner can give.

Close your eyes.
Feel your way through the movement.

Align your body and intention. 
Your energy goes where your center is pointing.

Heels down, chest open, eyes forward. Breathe.
Relax your shoulders, soften your elbows. Breathe.

Don't hurry things.
The more you rush, the slower you get there.

We're all beginners.
It takes a lifetime. Just keep practicing.

.]]></body>
	<date>10-02-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3651">
	<title><![CDATA[Patience My A...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Tonight I was frustrated with myself, as usual, when I still couldn't get a technique right on the 4th or 5th try. My partner, as he's done several times before, just smiled and told me to be patient.

I was reminded of the sign which hangs on my office door: "Patience My A...". I originally bought it (at the local tack store, of course) because it so perfectly described how I felt most of the time. Obstacles be damned, let's get things done! That's a good thing, right?

And with most intellectual challenges I get right up to speed. I can become fluent in information, ideas, facts, concepts, and vocabulary really quickly. Throw me in a deep end, and I'll swim. I do it all the time in my work. I think my proficiency with that kind of learning makes it all the more annoying that physical learning doesn't work the same way.

Our bodies only "get" things just so fast. Rushing is counterproductive. If you play guitar, maybe you remember learning a barred F chord. You were never going to get it. It sounded awful, and felt awkward. You must not be doing it right. It was impossible, probably for months. And then one day it was just there, and it was easy. There were some tips to learn, of course, but hurrying, using more muscle, and getting mad at yourself didn't help a bit. You just had to practice.

There are days when one Aikido technique or other is that barred F chord. I can see how it's supposed to go. Everyone else is doing it gracefully and effectively, but I can't do it to save my life. Hurrying, using more muscle, and getting mad at myself never help. I still try them all, of course, but I'm getting a little better at recognizing that mental state, letting those things go sooner, and getting back to patiently, slowly, calmly trying again, and trying again, and trying again.

Robert Nadeau Shihan said something* that really helped me understand the conflict between my expectations of myself ("the I-self") vs. the reality of the way I learn physical skills (the functioning system), and to be more patient (when I remember). He said:

[INDENT]"The functioning system should be able to move along the way that[I] it [/I]moves along, without being inflicted on negatively, or improperly, by an I-self system." 

"...it has great growth capability, the functioning system, but it has its own timing, and its own way of doing it. See, the self is kind of big and vast. I mean,[I] in a split second [/I]I can imagine myself in Kauai, on the beach, having a fish dinner at my favorite restaurant. You know, [I]in a split second, it's like I'm there[/I]. But for my body to move, my body has to move the way that it moves. So I can't get mad at myself if I can't physically go..." and the interviewer finishes, "to the beach and eat your fish dinner." "Yeah," Nadeau continues, "They both have their own rules, if you would. ..."[/INDENT]

[I](*In his interview with Jeff Davidson for the "Aikido - The Way of Harmony Podcast," available on iTunes.)[/I]

There's also something Sensei said, when I was restless about getting back to training after an injury. Perhaps I should flip my sign over, and paint it on the blank side:

[INDENT]"There's no rush."[/INDENT]]]></body>
	<date>09-30-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3646">
	<title><![CDATA[GrabMyWrist.com is Live]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My Aikido blog is live at [URL="http://www.grabmywrist.com/"]http://www.grabmywrist.com/[/URL] 

The same (basically) as my AikiWeb blog, & I'll run them in parallel. You can't comment on the other one. It's more for people who aren't on AikiWeb already. It's a bit easier to browse, has more photos, etc. But it's not a replacement for this AikiBlog.

Happy reading,
Linda]]></body>
	<date>09-27-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3645">
	<title><![CDATA[Rhythms Around the Dojo]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I think I've noticed an interesting rhythm to what is covered in classes: As exams approach, about every 2 months, classes focus more on techniques that are required for the exams (thank goodness!). Just after exams, we get to try some more interesting things. Both of the classes I did today covered new (to me) ground. Fun stuff!]]></body>
	<date>09-26-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3643">
	<title><![CDATA[Another Poem: &quot;More Than Technique&quot;]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A few days ago I was reading some of the past newsletter articles on the [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com"]Aikido of San Diego[/URL] website, and was in a writing kind of mood, so I rewrote Sensei's "Subject of the Season" article from the Spring 2009 newsletter as a poem, just for fun. (This one actually came before the one I posted a few days ago.) I thought you might enjoy it.
-----

[B]More Than Technique[/B]
[I]by Linda Eskin
Derived from Dave Goldberg Sensei's Spring09 Newsletter[/I]

Words are not the essence of poetry.
Techniques are not the expression of Aikido

Poetry evokes, conveys, inspires.
Aikido balances, grounds, frees.
Brushes and paint are not the artwork.

The toddler, barely walking, dances freely.
Express your Aikido fully, from the beginning.]]></body>
	<date>09-24-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3638">
	<title><![CDATA[Poem: Feeling]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[You know how being cooped up inside all day makes you want to run and play once you get outdoors? I think writing deadly dull things like software specs does the same for my writing. I have to run around and play. I've been reading some of our dojo newsletters online, and although they are written in prose, I hear what's said as poetry. So because I tend to rewrite anything that crosses my path, I've been running around and playing with rewriting newsletters as poems. I can't say if this a "good" poetry, but I hope it touches you.


[B]Feeling[/B]
[I]by Linda Eskin[/I]
[I]Inspired by some things Dave Goldberg Sensei has said in class, and in [URL="http://aikidosd.com/Fall08.htm"][U]Fall 2008 Aikido of San Diego newsletter[/U][/URL].[/I]

Connect with The Earth.
Ground yourself deeply, solidly,
And experience her silent power.
Let The Earth support you.

Connect with The Heavens.
Perceive the vastness of the sky.
The stars are always above us.
Let yourself breathe in The Heavens.

Connect with Your Body.
Fill where there is emptiness. 
Relax where there is tension.
Let Your Body speak. And listen.

Connect with Nage.
Attack with your whole heart. 
Bring your gifts of energy and direction.
Go fully where Nage takes you.

Connect with Uke. 
Let yourself welcome their gifts.
Respond with ruthless compassion.
Take Uke where they are going.

Connect with Your Self.
Notice where your heart is grounded.
See where balance has been lost.
Let Your Self return to a solid base.

Connect with Everyone.
Notice where our hearts are grounded.
See where balance has been lost.
Be the space for Everyone to connect.]]></body>
	<date>09-23-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3637">
	<title><![CDATA[GrabMyWrist.com]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[:D  I just acquired the domain name www.grabmywrist.com LOL I found that it was available, and like finding a great sale on something I don't really need, I bought it.  :p 

Don't bother going there - there's nothing there yet.

Now to figure out what to do with it... I'm kinda thinking something bloggish. Possibly funny, possibly practical, possibly about being a beginner in Aikido. (Hey! Something I know about!)

Ahhh... A blank slate. :rolleyes:]]></body>
	<date>09-22-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3632">
	<title><![CDATA[6th Kyu Exam Video]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I had my exam for 6th kyu this morning. You can see the whole thing on video here: [URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZR4eKhpRXE"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=NZR4eKhpRXE[/URL] Commentary and feedback are invited, of course. (This is the same video I posted on Facebook, in case you've already seen it there.)

At our dojo ([URL="http://www.aikidosd.com"]www.aikidosd.com[/URL]) we start as unranked. The first test is for 6th kyu. 

The exam covered:
- Ukemi: forward & back roll
- Katate-dori: tai no henko, shihonage (omote & ura) 
- Shomen-uchi: tenkan & irimi, ikkyo (omote & ura) 
- Jiyuwaza: grabs 
- Suwariwaza: kokyu dosa

What I've been telling my non-Aikidoka friends is that this test is a little like graduating from kindergarten. I had to show that I basically know my colors and can tie my own shoes. Simple stuff, but hard for a beginner to master. :)

Most of the feedback I got was very positive. :D There were a few hiccups: 
- I was mentally off-kilter from having just run back from the restroom (there had been a line). Everyone was already seated on the mat, and my exam was first. So it was run back, sit down, get up, go! :eek: 
- I was winded from rushing, and it took a few minutes to recover from that at the start.
- I got dizzy/spaced from rolling, :hypno:  so blew my first hanmi (for the shomen-uchi tenkan), and then almost fell over. (D'oh!)
- I was not expecting to have to do shikko (knee walking), so I had no idea why Sensei was asking me if my knees were injured. :confused:  I think that was my only real deer-in-the-headlights, "duh" moment. I had never tried it on the mat (only once at home), but got through it OK.
- Sensei pointed out afterward that my kokyu-dosa (suwariwaza) could be bigger, with better extension.
Overall I'm very happy. Naturally I wanted to nail every last detail, but I did OK, and didn't embarrass my teachers. ;) I'll take it.

I had a great time preparing for the exam, and was lucky to work with a very capable mentor. I have never felt so much on the receiving end of the "it takes a village" (to raise a child) concept. In addition to learning from Dave Goldberg Sensei and the other instructors, I have learned from nearly everyone in my dojo, and from others as well. Maybe I can start helping others along now and then (on simple stuff, for the moment).

Now that I have been through the testing process once, I'll be paying attention in a slightly different way in class now (and likely taking notes after classes). And I'll certainly be paying more attention to the names of each technique.

Having achieved this little first step, one of my next goals (in addition to working toward 5th kyu, and getting in better physical shape, of course) is to begin to explore applying what I'm learning in Aikido to my riding and other work with my horse. I'll be posting those adventures here, too.

Many thanks for the ongoing encouragement. :)]]></body>
	<date>09-19-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3630">
	<title><![CDATA[Reflections at the 1st Milestone]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This Saturday morning I will arrive at a milestone of sorts on my Aikido path - my first test, for 6th kyu. I've done 36 training days over the course of four and one half months. I can't believe it's only been that long - it feels like a lifetime (in a good way). Some reflections on my journey so far:

Early on I injured my shoulder, and I have recovered completely from that injury. I have lost 20 pounds. I worked with a personal trainer/PT to set up an exercise program, and am in better shape than I have been in years. I've made new friends at the dojo, locally, and online, and have reconnected with still more friends through Aikido. I've seen several rounds of tests, including the Sho-Dan test of one of my favorite sempai. I've learned that I like (and need, really) meditating before class. I've been to a dojo picnic, a party, and camping.

I've always enjoyed learning, so I dove into Aikido from many angles. Even before looking into local dojo I listened to all 9 episodes of the "Aikido - The Way of Harmony" podcast. I have listened to them again since, many times since, and I'm sure will many more. Together they are a great introduction to Aikido, and I hear them in a completely new way each time I listen.

I've read a nightstand-full of books, including "The Art of Peace" (O Sensei) of course, "Aikido and the New Warrior" (edited by Richard Strozzi-Heckler), "The Way of Aikido - Life Lessons from an American Sensei" (George Leonard), "Aikido for Life" (Gaku Homma), and "In the Dojo - A  Guide to the Rituals and Etiquette of the Japanese Martial Arts" (Dave Lowry). Shifflett's "Aikido Exercises for Teaching and Training" has been a great help generally by providing a broad look at training and learning, and specifically by sharing good information on stretches and exercises that address some problems I have had for years. And of course it was the horse trainer Mark Rashid, and his book "Horsemanship Through Life," that brought me to Aikido in the first place.

I'm currently browsing through "Aikido and the Dynamic Sphere" (Westbrook & Ratti) A bookshelf of others awaits, include all three of Ellis Amdur's books, Donn Draeger's 3-volumn set "Martial Arts and Ways of Japan." Those may be just the thing for cold evenings after the time changes. (Daylight and nice weather are cherished commodities for horsepeople.)

Videos have provided still more information and inspiration, including Ellis Amdur Sensei's DVD, "Ukemi from the Ground Up," George Ledyard Sensei's 3 DVD (videos) set, "2006 Seminar on Entries," and many, many shorter, less formal videos on YouTube. I've also found "Aikido 3D" (software) to be a very useful tool for reviewing the mechanics of techniques. It's perfect for those "how did that technique go, again?" questions that haunt one late at night.

I had no interest in weapons at first, thinking of them as a kind of interesting sideline for people who are into that sort of thing. Now I have my own set, and enjoy training with them every bit as much (if not more, on some days) as I enjoy open-hand practice.

So far I've participated in classes at the dojo with Dave Goldberg Sensei, of course, and also with most of the yudansha: Mike, Karen, Jason, Megan, Cyril, and Andy. Each has an entirely different style of teaching, and they all complement each other beautifully. I've also been fortunate to participate in several seminars with visiting instructors.

Robert Nadeau Shihan came to our dojo in late July for a two-day seminar on "Aikido as an Art of Harmony," giving us all an opportunity to look through the lens of Aikido at how we are in other areas of life. His coming here also gave me a "be healthy and back on the mat by" date when recovering from my shoulder injury. I've never been so proactive about healing, and by gosh it worked. It took a little convincing to get my brain to realize that rolling would be OK again (you can read my earlier post on that process), but I did it, pounding heart and all.

Our own Dave Goldberg Sensei, who's August Aikido In Focus workshop, "Relax, it's Aikido," had me giggling with the fun and joy of it all, and days later awash in tears as I realized how much I had been guarding myself against feeling, in my body and my heart, for a very long time.

This past weekend was a three-day retreat in the local mountains with our Dave Goldberg Sensei and guest instructor Kayla Feder Sensei. Again, whole new ways of experiencing Aikido, of thinking about (or not thinking about) technique, and applying Aikido for the advancement of humanity. A side benefit of the Retreat was that it provided a reason to pick up my guitar again, which I did with far less frustration and more success than I expected.

In preparing for this test I have been working several times a week with my mentor, Scott, a senior (in rank) student who is a wonderful teacher, endlessly patient, enormously capable, and always kind and compassionate. I've learned as much about teaching as about technique, and I hope I can put some of that to good use if I have the opportunity to mentor a kohai someday.

I could not strive for rigor and mindfulness on the mat while letting other aspects of life go to pieces. I set some small goals at the beginning, and met them all. My car, which was always littered with fast food wrappers, empty water bottles, and hay, has been clean for months. I decided to stop fumbling in hurried frustration every day with a simple gate latch in my electric fence, and set my mind to opening and closing it fluidly on the first try. I typically run late for everything, but have not been late to a single class, or arrived unprepared. As I reach this first milestone on the path I'm considering what goals to set for the next leg of the journey. Some of them will involve horseback riding, which I set aside while initially immersing myself in Aikido. I will be seeking a balance between Aikido and dressage (essentially an equestrian martial art) in the coming months.

Honestly, I found Aikido of San Diego in the usual pedestrian way on the web. The location and schedule were convenient. I liked everything I saw and read, and was impressed with attitude of the people I met when I observed a class. So I signed up. I expected a decent school with solid instruction. I hit gold.

If this is how it goes getting to this point, I can hardly imagine what might lie ahead.]]></body>
	<date>09-18-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3617">
	<title><![CDATA[Test Prep, and Aikido Retreat]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I'm too tired to be eloquent this evening. :p

I've been working with my mentor, a senior student at the dojo, preparing for my upcoming (9/19) 6th kyu test. It never ceases to amaze me how perceptive a good teacher can be. Working with him has done my Aikido a world of good. Only 2 more sessions with him before the test. I'm nervous/excited, but not panic-stricken. Feeling pretty good about it.  :) 

This weekend (Fri-Sun) is our dojo's [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/camp.htm"]annual fall Aikido Retreat[/URL]. 3 days of training and other fun in the local mountains. This will be the first I've gone to (I only started in May of this year). The guest instructor will be Kayla Feder Sensei, and of course our own Dave Goldberg Sensei. There's no matted area, so no rolling. Lots of weapons work, and non-falling Aikido. I have it on good authority that it's going to be a blast, and I'm really looking forward to it. :D 

Time to stop packing and start sleeping...
Linda]]></body>
	<date>09-11-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3606">
	<title><![CDATA[Studying]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[With 20 days to my first-ever (6 kyu) grading exam I've started cramming stuff into my brain, and into muscle memory. 

Several months ago I copied all the requirements (for all tests through shodan) from [URL="http://www.aikidosd.com/exams.htm"]the exam preparation page on the Aikido of San Diego web site[/URL], and pasted them into Google Docs spreadsheet. As I learn them I can make notes, and then review from time to time. Using Google Docs lets me access it from anywhere, including my iPhone when I have a spare moment.

Here's what I have to know, plus real basic-basics like etiquette & how to stand in hanmi. (Formatting/punctuation is my own. Not standard, but clearer to me.):

[B]6 Kyu Exam Content[/B]

Ukemi: Forward roll
Ukemi: Back roll
Katate-dori: tai no henko, 
Katate-dori: shihonage, omote
Katate-dori: shihonage, ura
Shomen-uchi: tenkan
Shomen-uchi: irimi
Shomen-uchi: Ikkyo, omote
Shomen-uchi: Ikkyo, ura
Jiyuwaza: grabs 
Suwariwaza: kokyu dosa

I have a paragraph or two of notes on each, from big "what is this" info to little tips on the finer points of execution. Sometimes just having a few key words is a huge help. "The zig-zag one, where you end with their arm pinned flat to the floor" (katete-dori shihonage omote), or "the one where you disappear behind Uke" (...ura), or the way-more-fun-sounding-than-it-really-is "smooshing a pie in Uke's face," (suwariwaza kokyu dosa).

Now that I have the info down, I can sort of drill myself on it, mentally, and use visualization to practice each technique a few hundred times in my mind. Before last week I was uncertain about enough points that I didn't dare work on memorization or visualization for fear of ingraining the wrong thing.

I'm comfortable that I at least know what all the techniques are, if I were to hear the names called out, and can go through the motions of each. Now I need to get the names down flat, so I'll still know what they are even under pressure :p and try to get a little finesse and flow in the execution of each. 

6 training/mentoring days to go, and a 3-day Retreat. Acck! :eek: 

I'm also working on cardio & breathing, so I don't get so winded I can't see straight during jiyuwaza. I don't know if Sensei sets students up in class so we get a direct and vivid understanding of our weakest points, ;)  but last Tuesday's class pointed out that I need to deal with high-level, short-burst work more than I have been. 

It's gonna be a fun few weeks... :D]]></body>
	<date>08-31-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3600">
	<title><![CDATA[Picking up the pace]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This has been an intense couple of weeks. I've been at the dojo more often, have a mentor for my 6 kyu test, and I've been turned loose by my personal trainer with a set of core and shoulder exercises to do for the next few months. I'll be doing a weekend retreat in the mountains with the dojo in September - mostly weapons - and am really looking forward to that.

Through it all, I am determined to not only not neglect the other aspects of my life (home, critters, & work), but to do my best to complete projects, catch up on chores, and spend time with the beasties. It wouldn't be budo, you know, to let the rest of life fall apart. So far, so good.

I trained on Friday and Saturday, and then did a seminar on Sunday. The seminar was incredible. Not only was it plain fun and engaging, but it was the kind of experience that opens a crack in one's way of being, letting light shine on many things not directly addressed during those two hours. It's still sinking in, and will be for a long time. It's hard to put into words. I tend to think in images, and the image for this one is of hands lifting a little fish out of a tide pool and releasing it into the sea.

I'll be training 3 days a week for a couple of weeks (a lot for me), and working with my mentor after each class. I need to be spending a lot more time on the elliptical trainer, too, and remembering to breathe during jiyuwaza. I get way too winded.

I got called up for a demo for the first time today (figures it would be jiyuwaza :eek: ). Of course, the point of the demo was how to work with a lower level person without killing them. :p But still...

I did a few things passably well in the seminar, too, and there were no times when I was overwhelmed and lost. Occasional glimmers of low-level competence... :D Heck, I'll take em.

It's like doing a 50,000 piece puzzle, and getting a few pieces around one corner together. I can tell there's a picture in here somewhere. :)  "Oh look, leaves!"]]></body>
	<date>08-25-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3599">
	<title><![CDATA[Testing for 6th Kyu]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I have been fairly comfortably going along, slowly, as an Aikido newbie. Working diligently and mindfully, but in no hurry. Plodding. No deadlines. Well, I recently passed our association's minimum of 20 training days to test for the lowest rank, 6th Kyu. So I've been glancing with some trepidation at the dojo whiteboard, where names are posted of those who will be testing. Our next tests are on September 19th. I never thought I'd be in that batch. I thought maybe November (we have tests every 2 months, I believe). But I kept checking the board, just in case. 

On Thursday I stopped by the dojo, just to drop something off, and a friend in the class turned and pointed at the board:
[URL="http://www.twitpic.com/eny66"]http://www.twitpic.com/eny66[/URL]

I'm about as calm and even-tempered as a person could be, but I was really stunned/delighted. :D  I actually ran to my car, grabbed my iPhone, and tweeted a photo of the board. (Yes, I am a geek. It even says so on my license plate. :p )

Here's what I said on Facebook, and I stand by it:
[I]"I am here to tell you that the thoughts "It's not *that* big a deal, and nobody expects you to be perfect at this level," and "Squeeee!!! OMG, OMG, OMG!!!" Can coexist perfectly well in one mind."[/I]

It's the damnedest thing. My (very) rational mind knows that everyone who shows up long enough, and who can roll without killing themselves, tests for 6th Kyu. It's like "graduating" from kindergarten. What's interesting though, in the "watching my mind blabbering on" sense, is that I am really excited about it. Giddy. Honored. Kind of silly, but there it is.

I guess it's been a very long road even getting to this point (including some challenges well before I ever set foot in the dojo). It feels just like I've been preparing for a wilderness adventure. I've heard stories and read books, learned some basics, gathered my equipment and supplies, gotten myself to base camp, met some of my fellow adventurers, and set up my tent. Now I've been casually invited to join up with the group at the trailhead in the morning. 

I'm excited about what lies ahead, and determined to be up to it.]]></body>
	<date>08-22-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3593">
	<title><![CDATA[Skipping Class, Missing Class]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[A quick one today... 

Yesterday I skipped participating in class, in favor of getting some video (potentially for the dojo's Web site). It was our new shodan's last day training with us (he's off to college), and the light was beautiful. Sensei led the class through a lot of techniques. Also I was really tired (little sleep) and dizzy (vertigo acting up), so I kind "didn't feel like" working very hard anyway. So it was a great opportunity to do the video, and it was fun doing that, but dang... I really miss having participated! In a sort of visceral "missing someone" sense. I've felt kind of off-balance since then.

Interesting how much Aikido becomes part of us (and how quickly).]]></body>
	<date>08-19-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3590">
	<title><![CDATA[A Whole Lot of Things]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I've been so busy I haven't had a chance to put together a coherent set of ideas for a post. So once again, here are some random bits:

[B]Still digesting everything Nadeau Sensei said[/B] when he was here for a seminar. One way he suggests looking at things is that you (your body, hips, and hara) are "the vaccuum cleaner" and the techniques (what your arms and hands are doing) are just attachments. It's the horsepower/amperage that make the machine powerful, not which kind of brush you snap onto the hose.

I'm [B]beginning to see some of the layers of the onion that Aikido is[/B]. One that seems to keep coming up in the past couple of weeks is misdirection, as in magic. Using atemi to draw uke's focus, appearing to be rooted on the line of attack while actually preparing to rotate off of it, etc. Playing with people's perceptions is fascinating stuff.

I've discovered that, in spite of trying to stay relaxed, [B]I'm doing something during bokken work that's really hurting my neck muscles[/B] - the little ones on the front and sides. I think it's a combination of weakness there, and of using the wrong muscles to compensate for others that are weak. So I have some new strengthening and stretching exercises to do.

[B]On of my favorite sempai, Johnathon Purcell, tested for shodan yesterday. [/B]Here is slo-mo video of his first throw in his new hakama:
[URL="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEShoS3CzIg&fmt=18"]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JEShoS3CzIg&fmt=18[/URL] 
He started at Aikido of San Diego when he was 11 years old. He's off to college at UC Berkeley on Wednesday. He's a perceptive and thoughtful student and teacher, kind and highly competent. I've been very fortunate to train with him since I started practicing Aikido in May. I and our whole dojo are going to miss him something awful. If you're up that way, perhaps he'll turn up at your dojo. 

I've been [B]slowly losing weight and getting into better shape[/B]. In part that's because of actual Aikido practice, but also because of all the other work I'm doing so that I can do the Aikido practice better, and without hurting myself.

I've been reading books and watching DVDs like there's no tomorrow. I've been really enjoying [B]George Ledyard Sensei's 3 DVD set on Entries[/B]. Frankly, I was initially very interested to see how someone could fill 3 DVDs with "just" irimi. :p  It's great material. clearly presented. Ledyard Sensei is a great teacher and really very funny sometimes. I also got the Ukemi DVD by Ellis Amdur. I've only watched a bit of it so far - planning to watch the whole thing this evening.

[B]Classes have been a lot of fun, and we've been doing some interesting exercises[/B], like discovering where your balance-breaking point actually is, and what you can do to recover and continue once you've hit it. I'm still exploring (as I expect I may be for years) my propensity to mentally seize up when I'm overwhelmed. I've been doing less of that lately, but only because I haven't been overwhelmed. ;) 

My Sensei (Dave Goldberg Sensei, at Aikido of San Diego) does a 2-hour workshop every couple of months, on a Sunday. I couldn't do the last one because my shoulder was still a mess, but I'm looking forward to the next one, "[B]Relax, it's Aikido - Discovering and developing deeper relaxation with integrity for better results[/B]," on the 23rd.

Also coming up, in September, [B]our dojo's annual Aikido retreat: http://www.aikidosd.com/camp.htm[/B]. It's held in the Cuyamaca Mountains (east of San Diego). Everyone who's gone before is very excited about doing it again. I'm signed up, and now wrestling with the decision to camp in my tent (private, quiet, comfortable...) or in one of the shared yurts (fun, up half the night, bonding...). 

Off to groom the critters and clean their pen. Picking up manure has got to be good jo practice, right? ;)]]></body>
	<date>08-16-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3576">
	<title><![CDATA[Tripping over my own brain]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[[I]The sidebar on the AikiWeb forums shortened the title of my post from "Tripping over my own BRAIN" to: "Tripping over my own bra..." :p  That would be a hilarious post, but this one is about my brain. Not nearly so funny. Maybe next time...][/I]

First, the seminar with Nadeau Sensei was great. Enlightening, engaging, educational, and very entertaining. :D  More on that another time. 

Right now tonight's class (training day 16), or rather [I]how I did in tonight's class[/I], is the subject. Poorly would be a kind word for it. I couldn't get anything right for the life of me. :(  Things I've done OK before, I got backwards, inside out, and upside down. Things I finally did right just a second ago, were wrong all over again now. 

It was like I couldn't grasp what I was seeing or being told. I would swear the inside leg swept backward, but when I'd get to that point in the technique, my inside leg [I]was already back[/I], and what I thought I knew to do next didn't make any sense at all. :mad:  So then what do you do? :confused: 

And when you don't do it right the first n times, the n+1th time isn't any better. It feels like rushing through learning a song. When you learn to play or sing a song, you have to learn what's going to be coming next at each point. If you get to a point in the tune, and have to stop and check every time to see what follows, you never learn the tune. You learn to stop and check. You have to be able to think, [I]during the line [/I]about the tree, that [I]the next line [/I]is the one about a hawk, so you can continue right into that line.

Maybe the feeling I get in class is more like learning a song in front of an audience. Or trying to do a math problem in front of the class, when you have only the vaguest idea of how to go about it. "Panic" isn't the right word. That suggests a sense of frenzied action. What I experience is more like freezing up. "Brain cramp" perhaps? 

Whatever it is, I've experienced it before in other areas (including flying, and horseback riding). Freezing up, not acting, failing to even perceive... I don't like it, and it's one of the things I had hoped to address when I chose to practice Aikido: [B]learn to relax, breathe, focus, and act deliberately, in the face of overwhelming stimuli.[/B] I just didn't expect to run face-first into it doing simple techniques in a beginning class. I figured maybe some far-off day, doing randori or something.

It's hard to imagine being overfaced by something so simple, in such a supportive environment. There is no critical audience, pointing and laughing. Of course I [I]want [/I]to get it right... I think that's normal - and how we are driven to improve. But where does this sort of terror come from?

George Leonard says to be grateful for the hit. We can learn a lot from the times life smacks us a good one. Well, I did say I wanted to work on this problem, and Aikido is the lab in which I chose to do it. Here's a heaping batch of just what I needed. Goody. :rolleyes:]]></body>
	<date>07-28-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3575">
	<title><![CDATA[Getting to the Nadeau Seminar]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I will be participating in a seminar this weekend - "Aikido as an Art of Harmony" with Robert Nadeau Shihan, at Aikido of San Diego (www.aikidosd.com). Not a huge deal, but from the "Aikido as a laboratory for life" perspective, it's a big deal for me. Having a goal with a deadline tends to focus one's attention and efforts far better than simply "getting better at this, someday" would.

Before I ever stepped onto a mat I did a lot of reading and learning while healing from a minor hand injury. Once I was OK to do physical stuff I found a dojo. Then I spent several weeks recovering from the Very Long Cold From Hell. I finally started training in May. I expected a lot from Aikido, and it's proving to be much more than that, even.

I've gotten through a few muscle injuries, a shoulder injury, and the stunning realizations that a) I was in no kind of good shape At All, and b) I really can be, if I just work at it. I've done PT, gotten massages (not the happy fun kind), and started working with a personal trainer to set up a personalized workout plan. I've made progress in leaps and bounds, compared to what I'd previous thought I could achieve.

One of my short-term goals has been to be in good enough shape to participate in this weekend's seminar. I have been rolling and falling in Aikido classes, with no problems. I've been very careful not to injure/reinjure myself, and have been doing everything I can to heal well, and quickly. Since getting back on the mat. I've been doubling up on classes so the two two-hour sessions on Saturday don't kill me. Last night I even dumped my 24 manure cans into the dumpster (requires lifting each one - twice), and lived to tell. Yesterday was my 4-week follow-up with my PT. He "couldn't be any happier with my shoulder," and I have his blessings to do the seminar.

My gi is washed, bottles of water are set out, camera is charged... :-)

It's amazing how much one can learn from a seminar before even showing up.

Linda]]></body>
	<date>07-24-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3547">
	<title><![CDATA[Getting Fit for Aikido]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I am going for my first consultation with a personal trainer tomorrow. [URL="http://www.fitnesswithoutwalls.com"]www.fitnesswithoutwalls.com [/URL]She's going to help me come up with a "real world" workout program I can do on my own. The goal is to be in better shape for Aikido and horseback riding (and everything else, generally), and to prevent injuries by making sure I'm doing things correctly.

I've set up a kind of blog-thing about that, with photos of places and equipment I have for working out, my goals, etc. If you're interested, you can find it here: [URL="http://fitforfun.tumblr.com"]http://fitforfun.tumblr.com[/URL]/ 

I'll keep right on blogging here about Aikido, of course. :)]]></body>
	<date>07-13-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3546">
	<title><![CDATA[Triumph over The Brain]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Classes 9 & 10, Tuesday and tonight (Thursday). 

Boy, what a contrast... If you've been keeping up (not that I would expect anyone to), you know that I injured my shoulder a while back. Through the miracle of PT, massage, ice, exercise, rest, ice, stretching, ice, and time, it is better. :D I got the OK on Monday of last week to go back to rolling/falling, with the admonition to not land on the top of my shoulder ever again. 

Last Tuesday my brain was not ready to roll at all. I couldn't even picture what a decent roll would look like. Stupid brain. :mad:  

So this Tuesday I figure I'd manage to start back to rolling, which I was doing reasonably well before my injury (thank goodness for that, so I had some good mental point of reference). Alas, Tuesday's class comes around, and I really couldn't bring myself to get to do it. I also couldn't seem to do anything else right in class. Very frustrating. And everyone I worked with was trying to be very helpful. And usually they [I]are [/I]helpful. (I'm regularly amazed at how good everyone is at teaching, even 6th/5th kyu people.) But on Tuesday I couldn't make heads nor tails of many of the techniques, so repeating them was just annoying, because I was repeating the wrong thing, or doing it differently each time. :grr: I was so disappointed with myself that I went home and by gosh practiced re-learning how to roll (very gently and slowly) in the living room floor. 

That finally seemed to remind my brain a little that "See, we do so know how to do this!" :cool: I ended on a good note, and let that sink in for a couple of days.

So today I got to do another class (I'm on vacation this week). I got there 45 minutes early, and very slowly started working on rolling. Like, from on your hand and knees, sliding your hand under and behind, until you just tip over. Easy peasy, right?

It's amazing what our brains can do to us after a "life threatening" experience. When I was a kid I was fearless on horseback. (Still am, pretty much.) You know the deal about getting back on the horse? Well it's true. I used to come off all the time. No biggie. But one day I tumbled off right near the gate to the pen, at the end of the day. I wasn't hurt at all, and it wasn't traumatic or scary. I was probably laughing. But I didn't get back on. Didn't think anything of it. I just turned the horse loose and went home. The next time I came out to ride I caught the horse, groomed her, and never even thought about that "fall." But when it came time to get on, I was shaking. Thankfully, I am too stubborn to give that input much weight, but it's interesting (and unsettling). Our brains don't take kindly to repeating situations where we "almost got ourselves killed."

That same thing happened to me tonight. I had a huge area to myself, with all the time in the world, and was feeling great. I'd do a simple, easy, slow roll, and my heart would be pounding. I'd stop and sit, and let myself feel happy for having done it right, and notice that I wasn't hurt, and visualize myself doing it again, correctly. And then I'd do it again. More heart-pounding. "Thank you for sharing, Brain. Let's go..."  And then from squatting down, but on my feet... Have you ever jumped off the start of a zipline? You know you're safe, you know it'll be fun, but your brain is panicking? Yeah, like that. Walked around and shook it off, breathed, walked, squatted down and rolled. Got up, walked and breathed. And rolled again. Each time I'd wait until I was as relaxed as I could get, and just let myself tumble into a roll. And let myself experience that I did it, and that I was fine. :)  Brain started to let my heart slow down a little. ;) 

Sensei reminded me that there is no rush. Maybe I should replace the "Patience My A**" sign on my office door with "There is no rush." Great reminder, and one I need regularly.

And then class started. I'd never been to the Thursday night class, but whatever. They're all Aikido classes, right? Uh... If I'd paid attention to what it [I]said [/I]on the schedule, and not just the time, I might've noticed that it was a weapons class. :p  I've been meaning to try that, but yikes... "Everybody go grab a jo." What? Acck! OK... LOL It went really well. All the helpful people were magically helpful once again. ;)  I ended with doing techniques better than when I started, and was not confused about them (not [I]good [/I]at them, but at least I understood what the heck I was trying to do). I even managed to very comfortably and confidently roll out of some jo techniques.

Aikido is fun again.]]></body>
	<date>07-10-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3542">
	<title><![CDATA[Darned brain...]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Class 8, I believe, was last Tuesday evening. 

I've been a bit slow putting together enough connected thoughts about it to make a proper blog post. Now I'm just giving up and blurting out some unconnected things. :p 

First, I got a surprise at my PT appt on Monday. My PT was very happy, told me to cancel my upcoming appointment, and gave me the go-ahead to roll, fall, and whatever else I want to do. "But if you land on that shoulder again, don't come crying to me." 

Class was on Tuesday. I figured it would be best to start with rolling practice (solo only, I mean), and just do back rocking-falls (not all the way over) as uke. I wasn't quite confident enough to do forward rolls out of techniques. That seemed like a conservative and rational plan.

Strange though, how our brains are not rational. I say "easy, soft rolls that I was doing quite happily and with confidence before I got injured, so no problem." Brain, on the other hand, says "Uh, no way. We're gonna die." So I was thinking too much, and being too cautious and tense, and nothing worked well (except the sitting-backwards-and-rocking-back kinds of falls). I couldn't do a simple slow back roll to save my life. Have you seen that Garfield (the cat) cartoon where John (the owner) asks Garfield how he manages all 4 feet when he walks, and Garfield gets to thinking about it, and then can't walk because he's so confused? It felt like that. :o 

Well, OK, I did *one* back roll very nicely after class, but when I tried to do it again, it was gone. I rolled on my spine, and thunked my head on the mat, and rolled with my shoulders stiff. The more I tried to get it right, the more I got it wrong. No injuries - I didn't do any damage - but my brain got to say "See, I was right! I told you it was going to hurt." This could be an interesting downward spiral if I don't get it stopped, pronto.

I didn't do much better with anything else in class, either. Thank goodness there were a few brand new students, so we went slowly over some really simple stuff. Over, and over, and over. Which I really needed. There were a couple of things that finally started to click. 

Strangely, I could not grasp irimi. The simplest thing ever. I kept stepping too far, turning too much, turning the wrong way. I wonder if we get any better at learning as we age? Something got me thinking this morning about learning to write letters as a little kid. Do you remember doing drills, following examples, tracing letters, and practicing, practicing, practicing? One would think you could hear "Look, it's like a pointy teepee, with a bar across the middle," and that would be it. But it took ages, and it wasn't easy. Aikido feels like that. A lot of it is simple, but for some reason it's hard to remember "oh yeah, I step *this* way..." 

Another thing this class pointed out (strongly) is that I'm pathetically out of shape aerobically-speaking. We did the same throw many times near the end of class, in a pretty good rhythm. I grab left, I go down, I grab right, I go down, you grab left, I throw you, you grab right I throw you, repeat. That was great, because it finally started to really flow, without thinking. :D But dangit I need to spend a lot more time on the elliptical trainer.

Speaking of which, I asked my PT about setting up an ongoing exercise program I can do at home (correctly), for strength and flexibilty, so my muscles are supporting my joints, so I can hold myself in proper posture for more than 2 minutes, etc. He referred me to a trainer who is a PT herself (and so won't have me doing stupid things that will just get me injured). I've got two sessions with her the week after next. Very excited about that.

Next week I'm off work, so I might get to do a few extra classes. I'm hoping I can convince my brain that it can shut up and just let the body relax and roll. "Thank you for sharing, brain. You can sit down now." :rolleyes:]]></body>
	<date>07-04-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3536">
	<title><![CDATA[Back on the mat!]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[This was class #7, I believe. :) 

I had been figuring (based on what my PT had said a couple of weeks ago) that I'd be out for a few more weeks yet. But yesterday both he and my orthopedic Doc put me through the ringer with exercises and x-rays, and both agreed I was doing great, and could go back to class. No rolling or falling yet, but anything else that doesn't hurt is fair game. I even showed Doc a video (on my iPod) from my dojo, to be sure he understood what Aikido was. He thought I was nuts to want to do that (he's hilarious), but didn't think my shoulder would be in danger. :D :D :D 

I tried some gentle warm-ups from class at home last night, as a sanity check, and that went well. So tonight I joined in, instead of just watching. 

I kinda figured I would make it partway through (a 90-minute class), and would start to get sore/ouchy, but noooo.... I did fine. Everyone was very considerate in their techniques, and really nothing hurt at all. I'm just giddy. :p 

The exercises I've been able to do (both strengthening, and mental/awareness kind of things) have made a huge difference.[I] (Many thanks to everyone who suggested things to do, and cautioned me about things to not do, in response to a question I asked on the Forums this past week!) [/I]I don't feel any of the muscle pain I did in the first few classes, and felt more stable and solid during class.

I was especially encouraged right from the start (during a pre-class 15-minute meditation period), when my right knee did not hurt. It was chonically stiff. Seiza hurt, and sitting cross-legged hurt more. I've been doing lots of warming up, stretching, and massage, and it's been getting better. Tonight, not even a twinge.

There were even a few moments when I felt glimmers of competency. I'm still a tangle of arms and legs, all going in the wrong directions (bless Sensei's patient heart, and my fellow students), but every now and then I got them a little bit organized and did the right thing, more or less.

I'm not letting up on the ice packs, exercises, stretches, or PT, but meanwhile, I'm very encouraged, and looking forward to next Tuesday. 
Linda]]></body>
	<date>06-23-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3528">
	<title><![CDATA[Fun class, pleasant evening]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[I am observing classes for another few weeks. My shoulder is feeling quite good now (yay!). I just need to let it heal completely, and strengthen/stabilize the joint to help prevent future injuries. So I'm still benched, and doing what my PT says I must. It's easy to see now that it will be fine before long. :)

The class tonight was taught by one of the yudansha, as Sensei is out of town for the week. There was a lot of the same patient instruction, with complex techniques being built step-by-step of their component parts. And like Sensei, and the other teachers I've seen, this teacher has a mischievous and kind sense of humor. A few parts of the class were different from what I've seen before...

There was some jo work (which I had not seen yet at all). They went through a couple of techniques, and then did some interesting exercises in avoiding a very slow-moving jo by just changing body position (keeping feet mostly still). Imagine if the TSA were waving a metal-detecting wand all over you, but you were afraid it would tickle if it were to touch you (my visualization, not the instruction to the class).

Then there were some techniques that a 1st or 2nd kyu had requested, since she will be tested on them soon. The class started from very slow walk-throughs, and ended with very competent, quite fast techniques. I'm sure I won't remember how to do them, but I saw individual parts (certain movements and postures) that I can work on at home.

At the end of the class they played several games, including a kind of keep-away to build rondori skills (moving around the mat with attackers in pursuit) without being concerned with actual attacks or techniques.

One would think I'd be used to it by now, but it still surprises (and delights) me to see the amount of play and fun and laughter that surrounds Aikido. There are serious aspects, of course, but everyone generally comes away feeling happy and confident, [B][I]and [/I][/B]having improved their skills.

Looking forward to getting back at it.
Linda

p.s. Aikido involves a lot of training of one's spell checker. ;)  Mine just tried to correct "yudansha" to "unshapely", and "kyu" to "yucky".]]></body>
	<date>06-16-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3524">
	<title><![CDATA[Training Diary, 2009-06-14]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[Training Diary - You might want to skip this... ;) 

One of the things I want to do with this blog, for my own reference, is to keep track of my training, challenges, goals, etc. I'll title these "Training Diary, YYYY-MM-DD" so they will be easy to ignore if you want to. :) I don't know yet where the blog Categories appear, but I'll put them all under my "Training Diary" category.

This is another "getting caught up" post (from a little notebook I've kept), since I'm several weeks in already. Future "Training Diary" posts will cover about one class or one week at a time.

[B]Physical Info - Starting Point[/B]

Health: Coming off 2 weeks or a horrendous cold. Feeling better.
Weight: 189 lbs., goal of 160 lbs. (And then "We'll see.")
Fitness: Sedentary work, semi-active fun (cleaning horse pen, gardening...). Few PT exercises for shoulder. No working out or stretching for many years.
Vertigo: Much better over past couple of months. Encouraged, but concerned that rolling and breakfalls could set it off again.

[B]Activities[/B]

[I]Tuesday evening, May 5, 2009[/I]
Class #1
Really fun, awesome people, great time, very excited about Aikido.
Very sore, tired quads later. Did lots of walking and stretching.

Started walking around park several times during the day at work.

[I]Saturday morning, May 9, 2009[/I]
Class #2
An hour before class something "went out" a little in my hip. Figured it would loosen up with work. Ha! Wrong. On very first attempt at rolling hip went into spasm.
Limped through class. (Too stubborn to bow out.)
Did lots of walking and stretching for several days. Probably piriformis muscle. Learned trigger point technique using foam roller, which helped. 

[I]Tuesday evening, May 12, 2009[/I]
Class #3
Very comfortable. Feeling good. Halfway competent at where to stand, what to do...

[I]Wednesday evening, May 13, 2009[/I]
Class #4
Forward rolls from standing/walking. Great fun. Lots of work on breathing, centering, flowing... Quiet blending exercises - nothing I had envisioned doing in a "martial art" - very cool!
Right at end of class landed hard on right shoulder.

[I]Between classes[/I]
Major pain. Several days of Really Bad Muscle Spasms in shoulder. Lots of intensive work with icing, heat, and trigger points. 

Breathing and centering exercises from class are tremendous for pain control. Open posture and attitude (?) reduce pain & discouragement, while closed posture and focusing on self make everything notably worse. Lots and lots of stopping, centering, breathing in the universe, focusing outward, extending.

[I]Saturday, May 16, 2009[/I]
Observed class and tests! Dojo picnic at Santee lakes.
Lucky timing, that I should have the chance to meet so many people so soon.

[I]Between classes[/I]
Shoulder much better, but not enough, by Monday. Off to Orthopedic guy who had done earlier bone spur removal surgery on that shoulder. Dx: Minor separation of the AC joint. Rest, ice, activity as tolerated. No Aikido. Next check in 2 weeks.

[I]Tuesday evening, May 19, 2009[/I]
Observed class
Paid especially close attention to things I could do on my own, trying to be sure I understand them well enough to practice the right thing: Stretches, breathing, warm-up exercises, hanmi. Walking, grounding, aligning, settling. Many notes on names of techniques, and elements to remember.

[I]Between classes[/I]
Holistic Health Practicioner (HHP) back from vacation. 90-minute massage. Many knots undone, bless her very skilled heart and hands.

[I]Tuesday evening, May 26, 2009[/I]
Observed class
Similar notes and observations. Watching classes is time well-spent, but very much like "watching all the other kids play in the pool." Very frustrating.

[I]Saturday morning, May 30, 2009[/I]
Observed weapons class and open-hand class
Brought two friends who have been thinking about studying Aikido. One, Sue, with whom I used to work, and had not seen in years, and a new friend, Edgar, from Twitter who I was just meeting for the first time.
Had not really considered weapons work, but am now thinking it would be a very good idea to be doing this too.

[I]Between classes[/I]
To Doc for shoulder check on Monday. Happy with progress. OK to do classes, but no falling or rolling. Yay! Next check in 3 weeks.

[I]Tuesday, June 2, 2009[/I]
Class #5
Back on the mat! Was able to do quite a lot. Finally remembered to say "onegai shimasu" at the right time. Progress! Sensei very kind about alerting me to upcoming techniques I would not be able to do. Some ouchy experiences, but mostly good. 

[I]Between classes[/I]
Still icing shoulder 3-5x/day. Some heat, too.
90-minute massage with HHP. Many more nasty knots.
On Monday not happy with progress. Feeling worse, not better. Other shoulder starting to hurt almost as bad. Made PT appt.

[I]Tuesday, June 9, 2009[/I]
Class #6
Participated, but a bit more cautiously. Could not lift hands over head without pain. Sat out about half the class. Should've just observed.

[I]Between classes[/I]
PT appt. Turns out there's also an injury to the brachial plexus - a bunch of nerves. Numbness & tingling in fingers. Not a good thing. I am not to do anything that causes any pain in shoulders. Now 2x/week PT for 4 weeks. Must get injured tendon calmed down so it does not irritate nerve. Benched for at least 4 more weeks, if I'm lucky, and then will have to be careful to not reinjure shoulder.

[B]Physical Info - Current[/B]

Health: Felt like cold was coming back. Doc says allergies. Treating that, and feeling 80% better.
Weight: 181 lbs. Down 8 lbs. Goal of 160 lbs.
Fitness: Walking breaks at work. Taking stairs. Lots of stretching & exercises on my own (stepping on/off straw bale 20 reps, 2x/day).
Vertigo: No problems so far w/rolling or falls. Survived 4-hour sailing adventure, even.


Finally - up to date. Whew. Hmm... I was thinking I had done 7 classes, but it's only 6.]]></body>
	<date>06-14-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3523">
	<title><![CDATA[For Tara, about ways of learning]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I]This is a reply to Tara Marsh's blog post, but was WAY over the max length for a reply. Please see her post at http://www.aikiweb.com/blogs/trademark8806s-blog-17256/odd-question-3520/, and please post replies to her there.[/I]

Hi Tara,

It's nice to see another new blogger here. I just started mine few days ago. My apologies for the [B][I]very long [/I][/B]reply. I hope some of it is useful.

We all learn at different speeds, and in different ways. We are supposed to be doing our best, but beyond that there's no set amount of progress that can be expected of anyone. People who have studied Aikido for many years still feel that they haven't mastered many things. You're very new at Aikido (as am I - I started in May). Keep looking for the best ways to learn and retain information and techniques, but don't be too hard on yourself.

Have you talked to Sensei, and explained how you learn best? It can be frustrating for a teacher to try everything they can think of to "reach" a student, and still see the student struggling. It may look like you aren't giving it your best, to someone who doesn't understand the way you need to learn things. 

I hear the name of one technique in class, and try to remember it, but when I hear the name of the next technique, the first one escapes me. I find it very hard to learn words and facts just by listening. If I don't take notes in classes, I won't be able to recall much of it at all. It's like having to organize the information enough to write it down (outlined, bulleted, mind-mapped, whatever) helps me remember it. When I remember it, I don't recall hearing it, I recall writing it - where it was on the page, or in an outline hierarchy.

At my dojo we are given a list of Japanese words that we will be hearing. This was a huge help, but just "studying" the list didn't help me. It was in alphabetical order. What helped me to remember better was to rewrite the list with the words grouped together by meaning. So words about teachers and students all go together: Sensei, Shihan, Sempai, Kohai, and Deshi, for instance. 

I work on remembering them in the same way I work on remembering song lyrics - I get a few in my head (like counting to 5: ichi, ni, san, yon, go), and then repeat those over and over while I'm doing other things, like cleaning the horse pen or getting dressed for work. Don't try too many at once - maybe even just 2, like Uke and Nage. 

Has anyone helped you with the pronunciation? Japanese could be easier for you than English, because (when it's written in Roman letters) each letter has one sound, and only one sound. It's not like English where the letter "i" might have several different sounds. Maybe someone at your dojo would be willing to spend a few minutes after each class working on a few words (not too many!)

Asperger's, as I understand it, can make it difficult to figure out social rules, but once you know them, following them is easy, Right? The social rules in martial arts can be very consistent, but sometimes hard to figure out by observing subtle cues alone. I think I made a stupid mistake in a recent class, and I didn't figure it out until a few days later. I thought someone was just "being moody" but realized that maybe I had been disrespectful, and was getting a kind of cold shoulder to clue me in that what I'd done was not OK. (I'm not good at subtle hints...) It might help if someone could directly tell you all the things that are expected. Once you know them, it should be (I think, if I understand Asperger's) pretty easy to follow the rules.

Some resources that have been a huge help for me:

#1: A book about all the things in a dojo, and about the etiquette expected there: "In the Dojo - A Guide to the Rituals and Etiquette of the Japanese Martial Arts" by Dave Lowry. This could be a good starting point for you to understand the social rules. It's a very interesting book to read.

(By the way, there's another book you might enjoy about regular social rules: "The Unwritten Rules of Social Relationships: Decoding Social Mysteries Through the Unique Perspectives of Autism" by Temple Grandin and Sean Barron.) 

#2: A computer program that shows, in 3D motion-capture, a lot of the techniques we need to know. It's called Aikido3D. You can buy and download it immediately at www.aikido3D.com. It's about $55, but well worth it. Of course rely on your own Sensei for exactly how to do the techniques. What this program offers that might be a particular help to you (as it has been to me) is the ability to watch one technique over and over, from different points of view. You can listen to the explanation a hundred times in a row if you need to. There's written information and spoken, including the name, and how to execute the technique. You can watch from the front, top, and one other point of view. You can slow it down, go frame by frame, and really figure out "OK, when my hand is reaching for Uke's elbow, my feet are supposed to be this way." 

#3: Just go watch some classes. I have an injury, so I've been sitting out some classes, and just watching and taking notes. It's very valuable, and you can pay attention in a different way than if you are trying to do the techniques. You can also study the social interactions by observing. Ask your Sensei if you can just observe some classes.

That's probably enough rambling from me. :p Main points: Tell Sensei about your challenges, and ask for specific help you need. Find additional resources that support the way you learn. Go easy on yourself - you'll get there when you get there, there's no set schedule for learning.

Linda]]></body>
	<date>06-14-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3519">
	<title><![CDATA[Getting up to date]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[My first post was a bit of background. This one is a quick summary of my first few weeks of studying Aikido. The wide-angle view, for now. I'll elaborate on many of these details in future posts.

First, you will recall I was sidelined by a shoulder injury. I landed smack on the top of my right shoulder in my 5th class. I sat out classes for a few weeks, coming to watch and take notes. I've even brought a few friends who have been thinking of studying Aikido. Observing is a very valuable, if frustrating, experience. I highly recommend the watching and taking notes part, but you might prefer to do it without getting injured first.

My orthopedic doc thought I was healing well, and told me at the 3 week point to take it easy - no falling or rolling for several more weeks - but I could go back to class. Joy!

I took it easy, both in class (twice), and everywhere else, but it seemed to not be improving as much as I'd hope, and in fact things I could do OK last week were now more painful. I sat out probably 50% of Tuesday's class, and even at that I probably overdid it.

So off to physical therapy. Physical therapists are miracle workers, and I've worked with this one before. He's good, and I trust him. I figured I'd get some coaching on exercises I could do at home to help strengthen the right things, and avoid injuring the wrong things. Instead he found that the injury was worse than first thought. :uch: So now it's ultrasound, TENS unit type work, supervised [I]light [/I]exercises at his office, more ice, less independent exercise and activity and, you guessed it, no Aikido for at least a few more weeks, if things go well.  

I'll definitely be skipping an upcoming workshop that Sensei is giving later this month. (Rats!) Still hoping, hoping, hoping I'll be OK by late July to participate in a workshop with Robert Nadeau Shihan, who will be visiting our dojo. (See Events on www.aikidosd.com, if you're interested in participating in either workshop.)

Meanwhile, I've been doing what training I can - endurance, stretching and strengthening, and practicing (to the best of my understanding) moving from my center, using good posture, and so on, as I do normal daily things. 

I've read several books, with several more on deck, listened to podcasts over and over, read everything I can find online, and watched videos on YouTube. Last night I bought and downloaded the Aikido3D application, which looks very useful. And of course there's participating here and talking with aikidoka on Twitter (I'm @LindaEskin, if you're there).

Right now I'm feeling unbalanced. Not in a bad way, just uneven. Lots of book learning, including history, philosophy, teaching methods, experiences of others' study of Aikido, and plenty of general culture and humor. But I can hardly put together the names and rudimentary motions of even a few basic techniques, for lack of any consistent practice. I know that stuff will come with time...

I'm so grateful for all the encouragement I've gotten from fellow aikidoka, in person, online, and from writers I may never meet directly. This injury is a speed bump of sorts. It has forced me to slow down, observe, and think. I have a painted wooden sign, hanging by a charming gingham ribbon, on my office door, which says: PATIENCE MY A**.  (Except my sign isn't shy about spelling it out.) Maybe an early injury is the universe's dope slap to snap me out of that rushed attitude. Wake up, be careful, go slow, work for mastery not speed.

I am even more grateful to have found, in good part due to luck and convenience, an extraordinary school. Sensei and the other students are very patient and understanding, and all are good teachers. The facility is very nice - an oasis of sorts. More importantly, the depth and quality of what's available there is impressive. I'm sure I'm only able to see the tip of the iceberg from my perspective as an utter beginner, but the more I discover, the more fortunate I realize I am,.

Thank you for walking my path with me a little ways. I was going to say I'm not normally this long-winded, but maybe I am. :p  I'm sure there will be more long posts, and lots of short ones. We'll see.

Linda]]></body>
	<date>06-12-2009</date>
</blogEntry>

<blogEntry id="3518">
	<title><![CDATA[Introduction, again]]></title>
	<body><![CDATA[[I]I am reposting my introduction (from the Forums) here, with a few edits, just to have everything in one place. In the next post I will bring things up to date. 

After that this will be a more normal blog, with semi-regular training notes, random observations, and thoughts on Aikido, and applying it to horsemanship, riding, and everything else.

Please join me as I walk this path. :) [/I]

- - - - -
Greetings, and thank you for reading my introduction.

Some basic basics: I'm a 46 y/o woman in the San Diego area. Horseperson for fun. User experience analyst for a living. 30 lbs overweight. Sturdy and strong, but out of shape. Did a little Tang Soo Do in high school (through the 1st test). Loved it, but went off to college and left it behind.

I recently came to Aikido via a book by Mark Rashid, a gifted horse trainer and author. I had been aware of Aikido before, but his book "Horsemanship Through Life" is what prompted me to begin studying it. I was originally hoping to improve my balance, fitness, awareness, relaxation, and breathing, all of which apply nicely to working with and riding horses.

The universe has been making me work very hard to get started in Aikido! After I decided to check into studying it I hurt my hand. Weeks later got cleared to do stuff. Checked out a dojo, was very impressed, and promptly cought the Worst Cold Ever. 3 weeks later, on May 5th, 2009, feeling good but still unable to speak above a hoarse whisper, I started classes. 

Lesson one: Persistance. Rrrr...

I got off to a bit of a rough start, with some muscle spasms after my first class. (Tip, don't start with the longest class your dojo offers, esp. after weeks of being sick. Duh.) I got that cleared up with lots of gentle exercise and was back 4 days later, having a blast, and trying to slurp up information as fast as my brain could absorb it. Things went well for classes 2 and 3, and then in my 4th class I demonstrated some particularly horrid ukemi by landing smack on the top of my right shoulder. Much ice and pain later it seems I have a level 1 (minor) separation of the AC joint, so I'm down for a couple of weeks, at least. I can do whatever doesn't hurt, but am not to push it.

Lesson two: Humility. D'oh!

I am grateful to fellow AikiWeb citizens Mary Eastland, who posted about being annoyed with a broken wrist, and Darryl Bronson, who posted about having Aikido withdrawal after knee surgery. Aside from feeling less alone and sorry for myself, for being benched before the end of my 2nd week, I now have lots of ideas for productive ways to use the time. I will be continuing to go to class, watching, taking notes, and learning everything I can. As my shoulder improves I'll join in one-sided or somehow just work on those things I can do. I've had a shoulder problem before. With proper care and PT it healed fine. This will too.

Lesson three: Patience. Sigh...

Aikido in general, and my dojo in particular (Aikido of San Diego), felt like the right choices from the first moment, and everything since has confirmed that. Yes, the simple things I had hoped to address in my life and riding are there, but there's so much more depth to the art than I had considered. The more I learn, the more I find that Aikido applies to every aspect of living, in a way that harmonizes with my temperament. The people I've met through Aikido (both in the dojo, and online) have been universally smart, thoughtful, kind, patient, and a lot of fun. 

I am looking forward to a very long and interesting journey, and to getting to know people here. And I promise to try to not be so long-winded every time I post. 

[I][And later, from my comments in that introduction thread...][/I]

The similarities between Aikido and horsemanship are really stunning. I'm working (slowly) toward doing dressage, which is basically a martial art in which harmony with the horse is the goal. Dressage tests are very much like kata - demonstrations of a set of skills at each level. Nervousness, confusion, or annoyance on the part of the horse are counted against your score. Training a horse is a little like teaching it ukemi - to follow the feel you are offering.

It's funny, I have pretty good "eyes in the back of my head" for sensing what my horse might be up to next, but when we try to anticipate an attack in class (respond as soon at uke moves toward us) I'm pathetically slow. It'll come with time, I suppose.

By the way, I also have donkeys. They will teach one patience.  And they respond so much better to trust and polite requests than to authority and force. Besides, they are smart, and cute.

I have found, with my 5 y/o draft-cross greenie, who can buck like a rodeo horse, that tensing up, hanging on, and holding my breath isn't a very good strategy for staying with him. It's easier to throw someone who's not relaxed, I hear. Hoping Aikido helps in that respect...

I've not played with weapons yet, but I'm guessing years of forking manure has got to help with jo work.  We'll see.

Linda]]></body>
	<date>06-12-2009</date>
</blogEntry>


</blogEntries>