<![CDATA[All entries from: http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/blogs]]> en Sat, 07 Nov 2009 15:14:54 GMT Fri, 06 Nov 2009 06:43:12 GMT http://blogs.law.harvard.edu/tech/rss vBlogetin aw_forums@aikiweb.com aw_forums@aikiweb.com <![CDATA[Test day has come.... and gone....]]> Fri, 06 Nov 2009 06:43:12 GMT Well, today I had my test for 5th kyu. I was a bit nervous, but I kept telling myself I had no reason to be. Sensei had the four of us line up and then had our ukes line up behind us. I was glad to see that my uke was someone that I have gotten to know a lot better lately since we have been giving him rides to class. This person has helped me a lot in class and I am glad that they were part of my test. Sensei had us start of with suwariwaza katadori ikkyo and shomenuchi ikkyo.

We then moved to standing techniques. We did shihonage, iriminage, kokyuho, uchi and soto kaitenage and ikkyo. We did a couple of these from different attacks as well. I felt pretty good with the terminology and I didn't really have to take the time to think about what technique was being asked of me. I tried my best to remain centered and keep everything I had been told over the past months in my head, but I know that I wasn't able to remember everything. I guess I was a bit naive, but I thought that we would only be doing the technique four times. I was wrong! We did each of the techniques several times (which makes sense since sensei had to watch four of us).

Not too long into the test, I had begun to run my poor uke ragged! He was breathing pretty hard and I just kept putting him into more kaitenage's since that was what we were doing. I saw he was breathing hard and I attempted to slow the throw down, but you can only do so much. Finally, sensei looked over at us and said "You two can sit down while I watch the others." At this point, sensei had us change uke's. I guess to see if uke was making a difference in the way we were doing things. We ended the test with suwariwaza ryotedori kokyuho.

Eventually sensei had us line back up. He then had us do some other techniques with the rest of the class: morotedori kaitenage and ryotedori tenchinage and kokyuho again. He came around and helped people and answered questions that they had. I don't know if he was watching us more or if he just wanted us to get more practice in (since we were having class until 7)

After that, he had us line up again to prepare to bow out. He told us that testing is an individual event and that you cannot compare two people against one another, let alone two people's tests. He said that he looked at where you started and where you are when you test. At this point, I thought to myself "Uh oh.... someone or multiple people did not pass the test. He then went on to tell us a few more things before he had us sit and meditate. I had too many thoughts in my head to meditate. Instead, I prayed. I was convinced that I didn't pass and I prayed for the strength to deal with this failure, the composure to deal with it, the ability to get over it and continue to train and more importantly, I prayed that I would be happy for my husband.

Sensei then told us that everyone had passed. Whew! A feeling of relief swept over me. He then said "We have a lot of work to do." He didn't go into detail about what needs to be fixed, but I am hoping that sometime in the near future I will be able to get some feedback from him. We all gathered into a circle and bowed to thank eachother. After, several people came up to congratulate us and I got hugs from a few people. I also made sure to sincerely thank my uke's (who probably made me look better then I was).

As I was about to walk out of the dojo, one of my sempai (sandan) lightly hit me a few times and motioned me over to a corner. I walked over. He told me that I had a good test and that the basic fundamentals that were being looked for were there. He told me to keep up the good work and continue training. That really meant a lot to me because he is one of the people there I admire. His aikido is so fluid and effortless. That was the best compliment that I received tonight in my opinion.

After the test, sensei, his wife, their two sons and the four of us who tested all went out for pizza. It was a great way to end the night. Good pizza, cold beer, relaxing atmosphere and great conversation. It was nice to chat and get to know everyone a bit better. At one point, testing came up during dinner. I asked sensei "Well, we won't have to test again for a while right?" Sensei looked at me and my husband and said "You two are close to testing for 4th kyu." YIKES! We just took a test and another is on the way!?!

As we walked of the restaurant, sensei asked us how we felt we did. I hesitated for a moment and then said I thought I did okay. Howard then went on to give his opinions on how he felt. All in all, the test really wasn't so bad. Once the test began, I was so focused on what I was doing that I wasn't nervous anymore. It was just me and my uke. No sensei, no other students testing and no students sitting out watching me test. As far as I'm concerned, my uke and I were in that dojo all by ourselves. Now as I sit here on my couch, I can't help but try to remember all the details. I try, but I just can't. I guess I am just mentally exhausted at this point. Time to recharge my batteries!]]> ninjaqutie <![CDATA[My own 2-week Aikido Intensive]]> Fri, 06 Nov 2009 06:12:19 GMT 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 not 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.

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.]]> Linda Eskin <![CDATA[Guard differences]]> Thu, 05 Nov 2009 02:54:29 GMT Sporting guards: e.g boxing guards. Short to allow opponent into optimum striking range, allows full range of attacks to be used. Relies on physically stopping the blow. Leaves the centreline undefended to allow jabs and crosses easy access to the face. No need to overcome the guard before attacking the defender as defender and the guard can be attacked simultaneously.

Martial guards: Extended with hands placed in front to physically control the centreline making attacks along it easy to deflect or block and forcing the attacker to attack from outside of arms reach and allowing the defender better control of mai-ai. Both aspects limiting attackers choice of attacks and forces the attacker to defeat the guard before attacks can be made to the body of the defender, potentially forcing the attacker into over commited attacks in an attempt to smash through the guard. Uncommitted attacks are defeated by a combination of distancing, movement and parrying.]]> Ketsan <![CDATA[Be gladdened.]]> Thu, 05 Nov 2009 00:23:18 GMT
"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."


Morihei Ueshiba (O Sensei), from The Art of Peace, translated and edited by John Stevens

A month ago I would've thought of this as some lovely idealistic vision, but it's becoming my real daily experience.]]> Linda Eskin <![CDATA[I don't like the dark.....]]> Thu, 05 Nov 2009 00:01:58 GMT Imagine being in a room you are somewhat familiar with. You have a general idea of where things are and you could go and get something if someone asked it of you. Now, imagine that same scenario, except the room is pitch black. You can no longer see the room well enough to navigate; you have lost your sense of direction. You are left with nothing but your memory, which you just can’t seem to recall with much clarity. All you have is what little muscle memory you have from walking around that room from time to time. This is how I feel with my 5th kyu exam a day away. I have never had to grade before. In all my previous years of training, I never tested. The rank was awarded to you when they though you earned it.

::cue dream sequence:: The one time I had to test was for a patch. You had to go out in front of the entire dojo by yourself and do a kata (Shaolin Strike Kata #1). Once you finished, the class, one by one then told you what you did wrong. Once everyone gave their opinions, my teacher would then decide if you had earned the patch. I was a green belt at this time and this was the very first kata I had learned. So, I had been doing this kata for over a year. I pretty much knew this kata in and out. I could do it forward, backward and if you called out a number (there were 21 moves), I could easily do that move without thought. In fact, I had already performed this kata alone in front of everyone in the past without a problem. The fact that I was being tested changed everything! My confidence in my abilities suddenly flew out the window. I was nervous and my memory completely left me. If it weren’t for me being able to do the kata without thinking about it, I probably would have just stood there in the ready position staring at my sensei. Turns out, I did just fine and I didn’t get any negative feedback at all. I passed and received my patch. They complimented me on how well I did and that I showed great composure. The truth is, I was shaking in my gi! I was so scared that my body was still shaking even when the second hour of class had begun! ::dream sequence over::

At this moment, if you were to ask me to do a given technique for my upcoming exam, I would be able to do it. My technique wouldn’t be perfect (which is expected), but I could do it. The problem is, I just can’t help but think back to how I felt testing for that patch. That was just one kata and I had been doing that kata for over a year. I have not been doing all these techniques I’m being tested on for over a year. I’m afraid that when the test comes, it will be as if someone turns out the lights and the somewhat familiar suddenly seems so unfamiliar. I’m afraid that I will be fumbling around in the dark, stubbing my toe while looking for the light switch. I have never been fond of the dark. I have always said “I am not afraid of the dark, I’m afraid of the things I can’t see in the dark.” Part of this comes from growing up with crazy people living across the street (I’m talking about- someone chasing another person through my yard with a sledge hammer- kind of crazy) and knowing that someone was raped down the street from me (Note- I actually lived in a nice rural area with corn and soybean fields all around me and this stuff wasn’t the norm, but it still made me cautious).

All past events aside, I guess what it really boils down to is that I simply do not trust myself enough. I don’t have the confidence in my techniques. If I felt that way after a year of doing a kata, how am I going to feel on this test? We don’t do those techniques every day and I certainly am not competent with those techniques. I do not know them inside and out. Heck, I don’t really know them at all. The techniques and I are not friends; we are acquaintances. You know- the type where you know their name and a bit about them, but you don’t really know all the details. Then a voice in the back of my mind tries to calm me down. It says “Believe. Believe that you are stronger then you give yourself credit for. Believe that your sensei wouldn’t ask you to test if you weren’t ready. Believe in yourself!” I take a deep breathe and a sense of serenity takes over, if but for a moment. And that is when I realized something. Sure, I have never graded in martial arts, but I have been pushed to my limits and tested countless times throughout my life. I guess the thing I have come to realize is this: when your back is up against the wall or your face is in the mud, keep pushing, keep fighting, because you never know how close you are to conquering whatever it may be that is stopping you (even if it is yourself).]]> ninjaqutie <![CDATA[Let the moon be your guide]]> Wed, 04 Nov 2009 19:26:20 GMT I've been ruminating on this for a while and I'd like to share. Finding a way to cover a great many different aspects of the art without getting stuck on something or stagnating can be a problem so I developed a method to use as a guide. I hope this is of interest.

The moon has a very nice cycle from full through the waning crescents into the 'darkness' or absence of the new moon back through waxing up through crescents back to full. I'm sure all are aware of this but we city folk tend to find ourselves removed from the influence of the night sky (even though the moon is visible in the daytime!). The ancients so revered the night sky that they postulated systems of divination, etc for all manner of things being driven by the signs and events of the night sky.

The actual science of the moon and the interaction of the sun, earth and moon are fun and interesting topics but are not the topic I wish to mention but do encourage one and all to delve as one desires.

I propose to use the moon as a mundane time piece and to modulate ones training based on the phase of the moon. While it certainly seems overly romantic and possibly silly I hope to persuade that such can be quite practical and a useful tool to enrich and broaden ones training.

There are at least 8 distinct phases of the moon that are easily discernable by simple inspection that anyone can do. There can be finer gradations to perhaps 16 phases but it takes a trained eye to make such subtle distinctions. This is also a god exercise in observation skills to see subtle variations. I list them simply for reference as the exact phase and activities associated with the phases are only general in nature and need not be very rigidly defined or adhered to – variety and personal modification are well advised.

New moon Not visible, or traditionally, the first visible crescent of the Moon

Waxing Crescent moon . Right 1-49% visible Left 1-49% visible afternoon and post-dusk
First Quarter Moon Right 50% visible Left 50% visible most of the day and early night
Waxing gibbous moon Right 51-99% visible Left 51-99% visible afternoon and most of night
Full Moon Fully visible Fully visible sunset to sunrise (all night)
Waning gibbous Moon Left 51-99% visible Right 51-99% visible most of night and morning
Last Quarter Moon Left 50% visible Right 50% visible late night and most of the day
Waning Crescent Moon Left 1-49% visible Right 1-49% visible pre-dawn and morning

I swiped this table from wikipedia simply because I’m lazy, er, I mean efficient.

The full moon, being big and round, would naturally suggest execution of technique in big full movements. The moonlight is soft and warming so keep these properties in mind while training. Big, soft, round, warm – the fluffy bunny phase.

As the moon wanes gibbous the execution of techniques becomes less big and less soft, gradually. Look for areas in the technique where big and round can easily become smaller without too much alterations.

The waning quarter moon is sharply divided as half a circle. Find the blend of the circle and the square in this phase of the moon. Begin concentrating on the non-physical aspects of the movement as represented by the shadowed half of the moon. Let the physical side dominate with the mental/non-physical playing a ‘following’ role.

Now the waning crescent moon develops sharp points and the execution of technique speeds and becomes sharp as well. Even more emphasis on the non-physical aspects – but still lead with the physical aspects so they drive the emphasis.

The ‘dark’ moon, the new moon, it is there but not visible – not even hidden in plain sight but clearly the moon must bee some where so our minds eye knows it is there but our light seeking eyes cannot see it. The mental, spiritual and non-physical aspects dominate and now take the lead role in training. Ponder the esoterica of the art and seek and explore the nuances and find that it is present in every aspect of the art – look for it.

The light returns with the waxing crescent moon. Sharply pointed and dominated by the shadow – let the esoteric be the guide and the physical follows. There is no knowledge of light without the dark so let the dark guide and define the light in this phase.

The waxing quarter moon with equal light and shadow seeks balance of the many aspects. Return to balance and unite the hard with the soft, big and small combine.

The waxing gibbous moon signals we are letting the physical side take over as the mode of expressing the effects of the mental and esoteric aspects. Technique fully powered by the power of the mind and dominance of our spirit leading to the full physical expression of the intangibles. The sharpness of the physical ,muscular expression of softened but the sharpness in there in the pointed aspect of the shadow.

Return to the fullness of the full moon with the complete balance of light and dark. The darkness is hidden behind the light but ever present.

As the phase of the moon flows so too let our training flow so as to cover as many different aspects as we are able. As our understanding and awareness grows so too to breadth of our exploration. Seek to find the balance by finding the extremes and mix appropriately. Let the moon be our guide and reminder to explore and urge us forward in our discovery.]]> Rob Watson <![CDATA[The Lost Student]]> Tue, 03 Nov 2009 18:08:11 GMT Reading another blog I was drawn to this idea of The Lost Student...
If I had to describe my intentions in this world in one word it would be "student." It's been one of the most central concepts attached to my personal identity...and I'm proud of this fact. Growing up I felt it was ok to be ignorant or lacking somehow as long as I was working on it; as long as I was studying how to be better. In many ways it became my safe-haven whenever I felt less-than-adequate.
I feel it's been both a blessing and a curse for me though. A curse because at times it's allowed too much of a sense of slack. I didn't have to hit the mark, "because I was trying." There are other factors involved in this too. I have a strong perfectionist streak in me and, recognizing that, I've been afraid at times to give it too much reign over how I respond to things, making me at times a little too stoic.
That said, at one point I lost my life's ambition...gave it up, really. I went from having a drive about which to organize all my actions, to no clear motivation. I began to live more and more moment to moment and my motto became, "the unaimed arrow never misses." I still identified myself as a "student of/for life," but I was no longer organized and the more I slipped into this mode of thought, the more inconsistant I became overall. Part of the reason for this was as a defense-mechanism for my growing depression...and it was definately a circular dynamic since part of the reason I became depressed, in my opinion, is the lack of direction and purpose.
So, at any rate, I became more and more of a lost student. In retrospect it wasn't as bad as it seemed at the time. Also, if I hadn't gone down the path I did, I wouldn't have the family I do now, and I don't think I'd trade that for anything...except maybe everlasting world peace and harmony...and I think I'm safe from having to make THAT sacrifice.
Now I find myself coming back to my own personal kind of one-point. My eye is suddenly discovering targets again; purpose. And I have a lot of what people euphamistically refer to as "life experience." All in all, not so bad I guess, though at times when I was feeling very lost, it seemed I was tumbling into oblivion.
Funny how the mind works both as a powerful tool when organized, and a powerful hinderance when not. Even when without a purpose, when it's organized, purpose seems to pop up unexpectedly.
I'm still quite the stoic, but now it seems my purpose in life is to find cohesive and functioning organization. To build up myself so myself can build up my household and my household can help build up the world.
Anyway...top o' the head now swept clean, it's time for chores.
Cheers.]]> mathewjgano <![CDATA[How Aikido is Changing Me]]> Tue, 03 Nov 2009 05:58:05 GMT Note: I also posted this at www.grabmywrist.com, where the text was accompanied by a photo of a butterfly on an orange blossom in my backyard.

There’s been a discussion on AikiWeb lately, “Aikido Changed My Life!“ 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 “Reflections at the First Milestone”, 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.

*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.]]> Linda Eskin <![CDATA[A spoonful of humilty]]> Mon, 02 Nov 2009 23:24:29 GMT WARNING: This entry is quite long and digresses a bit. HAHA.

I used to think of myself as a fairly humble person. It wasn't so much as something I strived to be, but more like something that was part of me. Part of my modesty may be due to the fact that I am overly critical of myself and I often see the mistakes I have made along the way. Part of it could also be the way I was brought up. I didn't have the best childhood, but it could have been worse. At least my parents loved me, fed me and put a roof over my head. I wasn't being physically abused and I had an amazing brother and grandparents that meant the world to me. In fact, I wouldn't be who I am today if it weren't for them and I will be forever grateful for that.

My parents were not the best of role models. Well, they were role models, but in the way that they showed me what I didn't want to become. Unfortunately, I haven't left behind all the bad habits I was accustomed to while growing up. I am overly critical of myself to the point that I have little to no self confidence. I expect excellence from myself and when I don't achieve it, I really put myself down. I remember one time in high school I brought home a 99 in science and they asked me why I didn't get a 100. I remember one time telling my mom that I wanted to go to college. Her reply was "You aren't going to college." Well, I decided apply to college anyway, it wasn't like I had bad grades or anything. I sat down and filled out a single application to the school I desperately wanted to go to…. and waited. Finally, the day came when I received a phone call telling me that I was accepted! I remember being so happy and I went and told my mom. I expected her to share my joy, but she didn't. Her reply shattered me; she stated "Just because you got accepted doesn't mean you are going."

My happiness faded away like smoke floating up into the sky. I tried in vain to grasp onto my happiness again, but like smoke, it slipped through my fingers. After being crushed, I went to my room feeling completely hopeless. My dreams of being a better person had been dashed. Then it came to me, I had decided that I had had enough of my mother telling me what I couldn't be or do. I then set out to figure out a way to put myself through college. It wouldn't be easy, but it could be done. The only way I was able to go was with student loans, but at least I was going. Four years later, I graduated. I remember my mom and my boyfriend being at my graduation (my dad couldn't be there). She told me how proud she was of me and bragged to all those who would listen. To be honest, that just annoyed me even more. She didn't help me get to where I was, but she would sure enough take the credit for it. That same year, I went to grad school and two years later, I graduated with my master's degree. This time, my mother, father, brother and fiancé were there. Again, my parent's told me how proud they were of me, yadda, yadda, yadda. This time though, I think they more or less meant it. I think they began to realize that I had made a conscious effort to break the mold and make myself a better person.

Another one of my faults is that sometimes I diminish my accomplishments to the point of being rude to others. I have always been very competitive and I have always strived for the perfection that seemed to be lacking in my life. For instance, I got second in the state for a competition that I did in high school. Instead of being proud of how well I did, all I could see was that I didn't get the gold…. All I had was a silver medal. It didn't help that my brother had won the gold medal when he entered the same competition when he was in high school. It just so happened that we were interested in the same things, so I often followed in his footsteps. When people congratulated me, instead of simply saying "Thank you." all I could muster up was "I really didn't do that well. I am the first place loser." That usually led to an awkward silence before the topic got changed. Luckily for me, I have since become a more gracious loser and a more eloquent speaker.

There are a few events that have changed me; made me who I am today. The first one would be starting martial arts. Little by little, bit by bit, it helped me come out of my shell. I gained self confidence and began to find worth in myself and what I had to contribute to others. By the time I climbed the ranks to purple belt and beyond, I realized that I had gained a sense of empathy and benevolence. I found it amazing how easily I was able to empathize with those white belts who were struggling to make things work because I remembered with such clarity how I felt at that stage of training. It was also those same white belts that led me to realize exactly how far I had come.

The second event was my four years in undergraduate. It was there that I began to find my voice. I was able really figure out who I was and I wasn't ashamed of myself anymore. Sure, I was still overly critical of myself, but that habit will unfortunately never leave me. I did things that I never thought I was capable of: I became a student representative of the college and spoke at open houses, I became head of women and was in charge of 200 students for fall orientation, I became an RA my senior year, I tried out and made the varsity tennis team my senior year after only playing for 3 months and so much more. Those four years taught me that I am capable of doing things above and beyond what I ever thought was possible.

Another event would be marrying my husband. He showed me that despite my faults, I am worth loving. I may not be worth much to other people, but to him, I am worth vowing love and loyalty to. I am worth enough for him to want to spend the rest of our lives together. To me, that really hit home and it made me stop and think. Maybe, just maybe, I am not as ugly as I often see myself. Maybe there is more to me then this dying need to seek out perfection. Maybe I am capable of being a good wife and am able to make my loving husband happy. Maybe I can let go of all the things I am not in control of and accept and love myself for who I am... and finally be happy. Okay, so I can't quite do that last one yet, but I am getting there. At least I have moments where I can look in the mirror and say "I look pretty right now!" Those don't happen too often, but they happen more often then they used to.

Perhaps the most recent event that has changed my life is the world of aikido. After 4 years of part time training (I was away at college) and 3 years of not training at all (more college and moving cross country for my new job), I have stepped back into the world of martial arts. This time, instead of wearing a black gi with a black belt tied around my waist, I step onto the mats wearing a white gi and a white belt. I had gone from one extreme to the other. I was no longer a person to be looked at for guidance. I was no longer the example. I no longer knew what I was talking about and I certainly don't know what I am doing. All of my previous training went out the window and I was once again reminded of what it is like to be a beginner. One would think that a change such as this might be hard to swallow, but for me it wasn't so bad.

Sure, I don't really like being the lost student all over again, but amazingly enough; it has made me see things in a different light. It's like I am reading the same book over again, but this time I have a completely different outlook on it. I thought I was humble before, but this has taught me that I have much to learn. I have since realized that I could do with another helping of humility. Instead of being resentful of this dish, I happily pick up my spoon and take tiny helpings of humility with each class I take. Sometimes my helping of humility is a bit more then what I would like, but it makes me stop and analyze the situation instead of taking something for granted.

Though I found myself a beginner all over again, things were a little different this time around. First off, I had my husband by my side. I know that I am not alone in this journey and am happy to be training with the man I love. Secondly, I have been in this position before. I know what to expect, though that doesn't stop me from wanting to pick things up quicker then I am. Finally, I know that I am capable of accomplishing goals when I set my mind to it. This journey may not be easy, but I have the faith and confidence that I didn't have before. I know that I can climb this mountain and though I may never get to the top, I think I am going to enjoy this lifelong journey.

In the end, I have come to realize many things, but perhaps the one that stands out the most is that I am not as humble as I once thought. The fact that I have come to this realization is the first step of finding it again. Though I seek humility, it is not the goal of my journey. The goal of my journey is to learn more about myself, conquer my inner demons, share a common interest (and the joy that comes with it) with my husband and perhaps make friends along the way. I am looking for yet another way to enrich my life. Hopefully, somewhere along the way I will find humility once again. Until then, I will continue to take my daily spoonful of humility and if it does come hard to swallow, at least I will have a loving husband to help me cope. If all else fails, then maybe I will seek out Mary Poppins and ask for a spoonful of sugar! ]]> ninjaqutie <![CDATA[Kohai/Sempai is it for you?]]> Mon, 02 Nov 2009 05:58:44 GMT There is another thread about a person having questions about experiencing the Kohai/Sempai (K/S) thing at a dojo. Thus far many of the replies vary in degree of what it is and how it practiced. None of which I read are from those in Japan who are experiencing it.

I suggested as an offer of help to the situation in terms of understanding the K/S thing is to look at Sumo. Why, well Sumo is said to be the model for today's martial arts in terms of cultural practice.

I went hunting, because I not in Japan and I wanted to know some things and on my journey I ended with...you guessed it Sumo to explain the K/S model- as a benchmark, or what have you.

What I found along the way I will post in quotes below. But during my journey, I found these two Japanese words; Mibun and Kakushiki that kept being associated to the Tokagawa period. Many scholars site this period to be very important in terms of change and formation of laws and social structures in Japan. It sees during this time social hierarchy was really stressed, and so was laws (includes the system and social protocol-from what I gathered.

It seems from my experience and of that I read from others and there dojo's the K/S outside Japan vary greatly in knowledge, practice, and importance. It would be interesting to me to know if that is the case in Japan?

This is what I found:

Overall K/S is thing about respect and responsibility, a mentor program, an apprentice program. A sports team where the pros are the Sempai's and the rookies are Kohai's. Another description was as upperclassmen and lowerclassmen/freshmen. It's that sort of thing Japanese style. The common thread is again respect and responsibilities.

The junior rikishi must get up earliest, around 5 a.m., for training whereas the sekitori may start around 7 a.m. When the sekitori are training the junior rikishi may have chores to do, such as assisting in cooking the lunch, cleaning and preparing the bath, or holding a sekitori's towel for him for when he needs it. The ranking hierarchy is preserved for the order of precedence in bathing after training, and in eating lunch.

In the afternoon the junior rikishi will again usually have cleaning or other chores to do, while their sekitori counterparts may relax, or deal with work related issues related to their fan club. In the evening sekitori may go out with their sponsors while juniors stay at home in the stable, unless they are to accompany the stablemaster or a sekitori as his manservant when he is out (this is normally a more privileged role given to a riikishi who may be nearing sekitori status himself).

Sekitori also are given their own room in the stable or, if married, may live in their own apartment. The junior rikishi sleep in communal dormitories.

Thus the world of the sumo wrestler splits broadly into the junior rikishi who serve and the sekitori who are served upon. The life is especially harsh for new recruits, to whom the worst jobs tend to be allocated, and there is a high dropout rate at this stage.
http://www.jref.com/glossary/sumo.shtml


Watch Sumo Confidential Parts 1-3


I see that at the core of it, K/S thing is similar in ways to the "Godfather Movies" or "The Sapranos" - a scene where Tony tells, an upset Christopher about how the system works, how Christopher will someday have his own Page doing things for him.
Also how the K/S has commonalities with things like some sports (pros and rookies), business, trades and crafts, and government. Because the K/S system is something Japanese and unique to Japan in it's entirety that it is something not very well understood out side of Japan in most dojos.

As I come to the end of my journey I think about, should the K/S thing be understood and implemented, and practiced completely traditionally, or shouldn't it? K/S is something very much a part of Budo, and thus, Aikido. If it is practiced say when O'Sensei was in his youth is it a lesson of character building? So with that thought, is it that important to get it right? I don't know. I see both sides.

The K/S system is archaic; there are other ways to build respect, responsibility, and character. Though not ever dojo feels the responsibility to teach such lessons in this way. K/S let's people know where they are at. It works as an organization tool. But, it does allow for a pecking order to take place. While some embrace the K/S seeing it's advantages and values, such as reinforcing rank and the privilages of rank, not every Aikidoka wants to go through such a think. Not very dojo, I am sure, practices the tradition the same why or with the same importance. The K/S system can keep order by pound the nails down that are sticking up. Yet, it is evident that a dojo will not fall apart if K/S thing isn't observed. The acceptance of the K/S is ultimately up the individual Sensei, and the students to partake in it.

My journey has lead me to a clear and definite model of the K/S model. From that I can decide the importance of K/S relationship and the degree I want to participate in it. I have been in a few dojos and observed a variety of ways they practice K/S system. I am still cautious of how it plays in my Aikido. Including how it is practiced within the philosophy of O'Sensei, and how closely it follows the model of Sumo. All of which is based on the idea of responsibility and respect.]]> Buck <![CDATA[Your Teacher is Always Right]]> Sun, 01 Nov 2009 04:42:38 GMT 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 is 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. You aren't using language they understand. You are asking more than they can do at the moment. You haven't sufficiently grabbed their attention. You 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: Your teacher is always right.

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 is 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 could 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.]]> Linda Eskin <![CDATA[Part II: Ugly Lessons]]> Sat, 31 Oct 2009 17:15:45 GMT The last blog entry of mine, "What isn't taught in Aikido class" might not be your average Aikido blog entry fare, but it serves to preserve a part of Aikido that isn't pretty.


Per my last blog entry: see previous blog entry



We just can't sweep the ugly truth under the rug and forget about O'Sensei's war experiences and the horrors of the way the Japanese, at that time, acted during the war. But many would love to do that, to sweep the ugliness under the rug and forget it. To bury what is too shameful to remember forever. Some will not face it, some distract out of embarrassment with glossy folklore romanticism. Some, well they flavor it with mystical salt and pepper. Others are very happy the ugly truth is redefined and misunderstood. But, this ugly truth, the history, is very vital in understanding Aikido and what is behind it. Because as time marches on history gets further away from the truth, from accuracy, as it slips into misty obscurity. It becomes forgotten or ill-remembered, at best. The result is the distortions and twisting of the truth, or the real reason behind why we practice Aikido, and why it is about love, and what that truly means.

This truth is something, unbearable for some as it is, should be the first lesson taught in Aikido. If this was done, it would best serve Aikido and be truer to O'Sensei and his Aikido.

I don't think there is enough people in the world of Aikido who knows about what I spoke of in my blog entry. We kind of go blindly into Aikido accepting what we are told as being the history the reasons, because we are told that from those who are authorities. This could be as result of they are just orally passing down what they where told, or they just don't want to talk about it.

If a person who joins Aikido and is mislead intentionally or unintentionally -all of which basically not being told what I described in my blog entry - is an injustice to Aikido and O'Sensei.

I know that there is a philosophy about things that if it is close enough or they get the general idea, despite the background fact not quite right is good enough, "it's close enough..." That is only good for horseshoes and hand grenades- both of which do damage.]]> Buck <![CDATA[What's not taught in Aikido class]]> Sat, 31 Oct 2009 07:25:44 GMT "It is one of the hardest things in this prison life: the strain caused by being continually in the power of people who are only half-sane and live in a twilight of reason and humanity." Wrote Sir Laurens Jan van der Post, during his internment as a prisoner of war, of his Japanese captors in WWII.

Pls read links first. Caution war isn't pretty- some links have graphic images and content. Could be disturbing and upsetting to some.

Nanking Articles
Nanking site- very graphic and disturbing photos
Imprisonment
Atrocities
Torture
Degrading form of punishment
POW
Confessions



Once you have read all this, does O'Sensei's philosophy of love, peace, harmony, and so on make more sense? Does his philosophy become more clearer? Does Aikido make more sense?

O'Sensei being a soldier and then a prisoner of war, I can't imagine he wasn't effected by the brutality and inhumanity impose on the Chinese, Americans, and Philipino soldiers and people. After the hideous war crimes committed by the Japanese army and their obsessive and fanatical power lust, I can't imagine that he didn't want to change the world.

O'Sensei's process of change was evident in his life after the war, and it obviously profound and lasted a life time. It was a very powerful change, that effected his entire way of life and for us how he would practice budo. He clearly had a fierce love for budo. Budo was something that was his soul. It wasn't a hobby, but the very culture he grew up in, a culture that raised him, schooled him, and shaped his very being. His experience as a soldier was so powerful that it changed him so dramatically he was to form a new relationship with his soul. A change continued through out his life driven by powerful insight as a result of inhumanity.

Budo wasn't something he completely abandoned in his life, and I can't see that he could. But it was something am sure was a conflict within him that he found a way to resolve. The budo that spirited Japan's involvement in WWII was not the budo of yore and folklore. It wasn't the budo that shaped O'Sensei, rather developed from the budo of long days past, and lost in romanticism. A modern budo, it was that some say was misunderstood, abused, and thus becoming a perverted ideal. An ideal of which, had lead to the emaciation of Japan.

Possibly, and highly likely, O'Sensei was conflicted between the fantasized budo ideals that he cut his teeth on, and the perverse emaciated budo that spurred the Japanese into WWII that he followed. O'Sensei clearly didn't hang on to the modern budo, nor did he abandon the old budo. Budo was something he could not rid himself of, no more than he could rid himself of his heart. His resolution was a full press regression into the embracing of ancient romantic budo, and its mysticism that was of old Japan. A Japan that was once pure and clean from the grotesquely warped illusions of a polluted nationalism and misguided power lust that lead to the shame of Japan, at the end of WWII. It is the salvation of holding on to the values of the ancient romanticized budo (that he was born into that existed in every fiber of his soul), rather than hold to mutilated way of a failed modern budo that twisted glory into an orgy of blood lust, cruelly and criminal acts where no humanity could ever exist. O'Sensei found resolution by cling to the past, to yesteryear, to a way that is more palatable as it is diluted with time and fancy. It was more powerful with the addition of spiritual teachings that brought balance to the soul. Or was it not at all about that, but rather a forced resolution, of seeing the budo that was so highly romanticized and sugar coated that didn't match up with the reality of budo as being cruel and ugly as it was and he seen in WWII. What ever the conflict was and its resolution, be it the humanitarian view or the view of a reality over fantasy and myth, never the less, the heinous crimes of war suffered at the hands of the Japanese military can be seen as the drive for O'Sensei to promote love, peace, and harmony for the world through Aikido. When we read about love, peace and harmony, where we are taught to refrain against violence and competition we must know the horror that he lived to truly understand Aikido.


This is the stuff they don't teach in Aikido class, this is the stuff they don't teach at seminars. This is the stuff kindly swept under the rug. This is the stuff hidden by reference of an eccentric old man and his equal eccentric ramblings of the Cosmos and spiritual bodies. The stuff they don't teach, the ugly stuff that is hidden, avoided, package so artistically beautiful as any special Japanese gift. But this stuff, they don't teach, that is not put out in the open, is so very important to know, to understand O'Sensei, to understand what he was about, and what he was trying to achieve. To know where he is coming from, is to know the whys of Aikido.]]> Buck <![CDATA[Martial Arts Daughter]]> Fri, 30 Oct 2009 04:05:00 GMT It is especially unladylike, my mother believed, for girls to learn martial arts and "wave their hands and feet about." I've always had an interest in martial arts, and I guess growing up watching Hong Kong kung-fu sagas with bad-ass, sword-wielding heroines had a little something to do with fueling my passion. When I expressed my desire to my traditional mother--who still manages to put a three-course meal on the table every night for family dinners--she didn't allow me to get into martial arts. In my early teens, I'd watch my two older male cousins go off to their paid karate lessons and pine away at their freedom.

When I got to college, I wormed my way into two rather unconventional things: 1.) Being an English major, and 2.) Being an aikidoka. My parents had high hopes that I'd select a more lucrative profession . . . they had given me choices of the more acceptable study paths: to become an engineer, doctor, lawyer, or, if I managed to fail at all of the above--at least a real-estate agent. And if I were so incompetent as to give up all that, I had the choice of marrying either an engineer, doctor, lawyer, or--if I must--a real-estate agent. After all, my older female cousins all became or married men in those fields. A husband like that would protect me financially, keep me comfortable. My parents had no idea what I'd do with an English degree besides teach, and I ended up not even getting that right.

Getting into aikido was an equally amusing experience. I showed my mother my Schedule of Classes booklet, pointing out the necessary electives for graduation credit. "Mom, I need these P.E. units to graduate, and this aikido class is the only thing that'll fit into my tight schedule--you do want me to get a college degree, don't you?" I thought I'd try out different martial arts one by one until I found what I liked and wanted to stick with, but when I was handed my gi and went through the first few aikido classes, I was in love.

When my youngest brother developed an interest in taking up martial arts and I showed him a few techniques I learned, my mother shook her head at my dad and said, "That's it, we have three boys instead of two sons and a daughter." She gave me the stink-eye when I accidentally broke things: an automatic umbrella, a French Press's glass carafe, a few of her porcelain rice bowls that I swear had chips leading to a weak fissure in the first place; she'd half-jokingly blame my "martial arts hands."

I took the offered aikido classes on repeat for two-and-a-half years, long after I had fulfilled all my necessary P.E. credits. I put my training on hold for a while as life took me on its often unpredictable path. And I've just picked it up again this year, restarting the journey.

My mother still doesn't get why I stay out in the evenings past family dinnertime to wrestle with sweaty people and wave around wooden sticks and swords, but she's more tolerant now. She's tolerant, but she doesn't completely understand. Just the other week, glancing at me taking off my blue belt after class, she asked, "So when are you going to be done with aikido?" I looked at her like she was speaking Latin. She didn't ask as if she was hinting that I should stop--she was genuinely curious as to how much longer it can go on (like a exercise class that ends every semester, or a college degree that you'd get after x amount of years). I don't know how to explain to her these things I feel inside, about this other culture that I grew up in, and which she still feels alienated from. That while I do eventually want to get married, I also covet the ability to protect myself, both physically and financially. That if I have a daughter, I'd want to raise her to be strong, too, in mind and spirit, as well as body. That the idea of stopping my training again is like giving up the ability to dream, the desire to fly. And that even at Black Belt, when down the road I am ready to test for my Shodan, my "first step"--it does not end but would have just barely begun.]]> Daisy Luu <![CDATA[Look for the Lesson]]> Fri, 30 Oct 2009 01:46:41 GMT 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 "knew" 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 really 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 did do it very much on purpose.

I'm grateful for having "gotten the point," in any case.]]> Linda Eskin