committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

I said over in Paula's thread: "I agree that this type of attack is not consistently taught well in all dojos, and I for one know that I have problems consistently delivering them...maybe I should spin off another thread hmmm......"
So here is one puzzle I'm finding coming up a lot. I will give a focussed, intent attack once or twice then start getting a little sloppy...ok, so that is a matter of discipline and focus...But another side of the coin I've been playing with is being a connected "sticky" uke, trying not to bail but to be relaxed enough to be really responsive.
And I find that the two modes are somatically very different for me and I cannot "switch" well. If I give the kind of very focussed intent attack empty hand that I'd be giving in partnered weapons work, I'm bringing a certain solidity to it, a feeling that I will reach my goal with my center/posture intact. If nage moves and I'm somewhat imbalanced (which would be considered a good next step in the interaction...) my tendency is to stay in "solid" mode -- thinking about it now as I write, I'm probably momentarily freezing? tensing? as a reaction to the imbalance? -- and I have to consciously switch gears as nage continues to connect/engage "oh right, there's nage feel the connection, ok, here we go...".
So I think PART of why my attacks go a bit slack is that I'm focussing (too much) on anticipating the connection/response aspect of ukemi and not on the initial attack that is actually what gives nage what he needs...
So...my question is: is there a degree of relaxation one learns over time within the committed, intense attack, that permits the seamless transition to connected ukemi?
I hope this question makes sense...it is something that just occured to me though the problem is not a new one for me.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

I am not qualified enough to answer your question, but I really appreciate the concept you present, it gives me much to think about.

I think when you attack you should be thinking through to your next response and then rolling with it. If you give a strong well intentioned attack and nage responds correctly, then I would think that you would be slightly off balance or in a bad position which would require you to regain or reposition, which gives nage something to consider for the next move.

I think this is really the key to the relationship that is established in the dance we call irimi nage.

My experience parallel yours for sure!

I would say I never try and take ukemi, but I am always trying to recover from my first failed attack, it is nage's responsibility to respond appropriately and control to the point of ukemi. so, i think, if you are being honest in your ukemi, that is is seamless from attack to the next attack attempt until you are negated down to the ground and nage controls. So it would be seamless in that regard.

Probably didn't even come close to where you were going with this!

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Hi Paula,

My current thinking is that my answer to your question is no. I am working with the idea that it is the opposite, one begins with connected ukemi that is soft, responsive, and continually going after nage`s center. This approach allows me to work with opening my joints which leads gradually to a kind of intensity that is "heavy" rather than "solid." I do think one could go the other way, but I think that there are many more traps this way. This other way, starting with muscle based power attacks, is the traditional Aikikai Honbu dojo style. It was also apparently a point of contention between Tohei Sensei and O`Sensei. O`Sensei apparently told his students told hold hard and attack strong with the idea that over time they would eventually get soft. Tohei Sensei thought one should start soft. I have heard that Tohei Sensei would make excuses when told to attack strongly and with muscle by saying things like, I drank too much last night so this is about all I can do.

Anyway, this is my current thinking...
Charles

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

In our dojo, this is settled by -- or at least we attempt to settle this by -- a few things we make central to training.

First, we make a distinction between a choreographed "committed" attack and an actual committed attack. The former attack occupies much of the training that attempts to deal with the learning curves of beginners and intermediate practitioners. In this type of attack, the uke, "commits" by consciously moving his/her body in a way that it would thus be affected by those physical forces that become relevant at levels of where actual commitment is practiced. At this level of training, an uke may or may not move in slow motion but he or she will always move more in conjunction with nage -- giving the impression that "uke is blending with nage." However, this is only an impression. What uke is actually doing is allowing nage the chance of blending with uke's choreographed movement. In this way, nage's body/mind comes to feel the technique at a level that will more closely resemble what will or can happen at higher levels of intensity and/or commitment (i.e. where the physical forces involved are naturally present and not consciously reproduced or choreographed by uke). Additionally, this also allows an uke to gain the needed insight that will allow their body/mind to move from various forms of choreographed ukemi to an ukemi that is the mere sum of uke's committed attack and nage's committed response.

As an uke moves from one type of ukemi to the other type of ukemi, several things happen. In addition to all of the things that come up with simply learning how to execute a committed attack and learning how to take a fall safely, etc., one of the most prevalent body/mind issues that come up is a high degree of attachment. This attachment can take on many forms (e.g. attached to doing a forward role) and it can have many causes (e.g. fear of falling or the fear of injury). However, it manifests itself, it is most always about an ill-placed degree of self-concern (i.e. a type of egocentricity). As a result, an uke will find it hard to "do two things a once," or at least this is flower that springs up from the root of a false paradox (that only exists because of the habitual egocentricity that may maintain itself through this level of training). That is to say, an uke will feel a paradox to be present between committing to an attack and committing to their ukemi. Several conventional notions that run throughout the Aikido world also come to make such a paradox appear to be inevitable and thus reasonable. These conventions also go on to provide, what have to be considered, non-solutions to the paradox.

For example, we have the notion of "staying connected" in the Aikido world. Many uke take this convention to mean that they have a responsibility to stay "blended" with nage. Under such reasoning, when we attack with commitment however, we find that we have to quickly turn that action off so that we can turn on the action of staying connected. As a result, the obvious, and most proposed solution is that one simply needs to learn how to turn one off and the other on more quickly or more efficiently. It is then assumed that we simply require the passage of time for this to happen (i.e. we need more practice). At this point, the paradox, and/or its solution, is pushed off (away from us) into the future -- where we do not really have to or get a chance to deal with it. The end result is that we never really learn how to do this.

As a proposed alternative: one can see that uke's job is to simply provide a committed attack (outside of beginner and/or intermediate training) and to not die or be crippled from the tactical response they will endure as a result of nage's own commitment. If in doing so uke "loses connection" to nage, this is understood as nage's failing -- not uke's. Thus, uke does not need to learn how to shut off attacking and how to turn on blending. Alternately, if in attempting to perform a committed attack, uke should be unable to commit fully, uke disengages from his/her commitment, uke crashes unsafely, etc., because, for example they have found it difficult to "go from attacking to falling in an instant," this would reveal a failing in their attacking capabilities, their falling skills, etc. However, each of these things would point to the needed level of body/mind cultivation that would allow such uke to cultivate the necessary level of non-attachment to practice fully (with commitment) and safely. In our dojo, we have sourced attachment, or the fettering of the body/mind, to three things: pride, ignorance, and/or fear. The solution then, according to our model of practice, would mean that one cannot attack fully/committed and be able to take ukemi fully/safely within advanced levels of intensity until one's pride, ignorance, and/or fear has been reconciled to an equal degree. Under this model, commitment does not become the result of a long road that finally ends; it is rather a mirror, one through which we can see ourselves more clearly. In other words, commitment is a practice, or a process, wherein the body/mind is held up for the practitioner to give witness to what they have and have not reconciled. This would mean then that training can follow the normal and/or proven paths toward a reconciliation of our own egocentricity (or our attachment to the small self) in or when we seek to cultivate commitment and thus more intense training environments.

Just my perspective,
dmv

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Being what my instructor calls "a really goal-oriented person" I have been struggling with the same problem as Janet. Hey, I'm retired military--someone gives you a mission, you complete it. If they say, "hit the back side of my head by going through the front" you're not satisfied until you can do it every time.

This leads to what I think of as a "single-minded attack"--the striking or grabbing implement and most, if not all supporting structures are tense and over-committed. This causes three main problems:

1. You're rooted and not ready to respond to nage's response to your attack, therefore
2. Your counter or next attack is later than it should be and
3. When nage gets your balance you tend to take BIG ukemi all of a sudden.

We're trying to address the problem by executing our attacks in such a way that the supporting structures are not rooted. Instead of stopping one or both of our feet, we keep them moving throughout the attack and our grabbing and striking implements are relaxed throughout the attack except for the moment of contact. We don't close the hand until the instant of contact, and we relax it a bit immediately thereafter. I think this comes from some of the Chinese empty hand systems.

This creates a fully committed, full-power attack that doesn't root us to the ground so we can move through the attack and deal with or ride nage's response with control while continually scanning for openings and setting up the next attack.

Your thoughts?

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Everyone has some sound advice. Here's what I have done in the past. When we are learning new techniques I will throw the attack rather than committing it, there is still energy and force, but the focus is diffrent and I fully expect to have my center taken and be led. This always me to react better if nage is going to slip and I have to bail to prevent personal injury and also be more concerned with the feel of the technique so I can help nage fix any flaws. For example, I dont actively fight to keep my center but I dont' just give it away, nage either takes it or the technique will not happen. As I understand my role as an uke, my job is to give the most realistic attack and response possible. This also means that when I am asked to come with a full attack, I come with a full attack and give very little regard to taking the ukemi, if there is any, or if I hit nage or not. Nage either reacts appropriately or does not. You are responsible for the full committment of the attack, not letting nage bring you around smoothly. It is nage's responsiblity to learn to direct and control the energy given because if they cannot, then how can they expect to ever really know what they are doin?

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Shouldn't we be rooted when we attack? Shouldn't a nage that wants to train at such a level understand how to "uproot" uke - rather than having uke be "unrooted" from the get-go? Being led too is something that I think is a bit different from how I try to understand the words "committed attack". Perhaps then we are thinking about the word differently and/or at least in terms of different degrees.

For me, being led as uke by nage, and committing in an "unrooted" fashion, is all part of the first type of training I mentioned above - where uke is more consciously making present certain forces that would be present naturally under the full-commitment (assuming correct form is present) of both nage and uke. Under this type of training, I think one can, at least in time, just get used to finding that happy middle ground between attacking and taking ukemi - but I would say that that happy middle ground has little to do with actual committed attacks and/or what I felt Janet was right in problematizing.

I am thinking this is probably a topic that is too ambiguous to tackle over the Internet - I imagine we all have different understandings of what "commitment" means and where that falls in non-choreographed training, etc.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

David,

You have much more experience at this than I, but I'll try to explain what I mean.

To me, "committed attack" means uke WILL strike or land the grab at full force if nage doesn't get out of the way or otherwise disrupt the attack on the way in. Uke executes the attack from a structurally sound, balanced position, but that position is not fixed in space (i.e., "rooted"). Good examples are the attacks you get from Ledyard-sensei or Lasky-sensei. You have no doubt that they'll land it if you don't move, but they're never standing still while they do it.

Knowing that no matter how well he executes it, uke's attack may not succeed, uke is prepared to conduct a fluid, continuing engagement. In kihon waza, this means reacting to nage's well-applied kuzushi, and "riding the surface" of nage's technique while simultaneously attempting to recover their balance and looking for openings to launch the next attack. If the situation becomes untenable for uke, (no viable openings present themselves and uke cannot regain his balance), he smoothly transitions his movement into ukemi, which takes advantage of the available "escape ramps." inherent in nage's response pattern.

Does this make sense?

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Hi Larry,

Yes, that makes sense. Thanks so much for taking the time and effort.

Please allow me to think out loud -- using your post as a kind of springboard…

For me, this goes to show how we all have different concepts of "commitment" in our training. This is perhaps very important to note. I think much of Aikido is like this -- it is not just like this with the concept of "commitment." For example, I imagine all of the "big words" (e.g. center, harmony, non-resistance, blending, etc.) in Aikido are prone to this kind of subjectivity. On the one hand, this subjectivity allows us all to agree with each other, but, on the other hand, it allows us all to agree only by ignoring what differences do exist (and thus ignoring what those differences might say about our own individual practice).

For example, we can all say, "Yes, we should attack with commitment and attempt to bring training to higher levels of intensity." In saying this, we get an agreeing consensus going. It is like saying, "I'm just trying to stay true to myself -- trying to keep myself real," on some sort of talk show (e.g. Jerry Springer, Sally Jesse, etc.). Utter a phrase like this in that kind of setting and you are sure to elicit a round of applause from the crowd -- a show of support and of agreement. There are these things that in our popular culture become so much of conventional wisdom that they in essence become something more -- something like a slogan, something just one step away from being a bumper sticker.

Aikido culture seems to be no different. We seem to be prone to this same process, where something goes from being true, to being conventional wisdom, to being a slogan, to becoming a bumper sticker (which can never be true -- unfortunately -- because of its over-simplification). Along the way, sure, we get people that want to offer caveats. In regards to commitment, these might look like this: "Well, one cannot and should not train this way with a beginner," or, "If one does only that kind of training, or if one does that kind of training before correct form has actually been acquired, it could actually be more detrimental to one's progress than beneficial." We also get those folks that wish to offer conditions, where they feel inclined to point out, "Not everyone wants to train in Aikido at that level," or "Aikido does not need to reach that level of training in order to be ‘real' and/or beneficial for someone." Etc. However, you get very few of us that hear such slogans and say, "I wonder if what you mean is what I mean -- for though I would say the same phrase, I wonder if we are actually talking about the same thing."

I am of the opinion that this will to sameness is part of our attempts to preserve certain aspects of our small self -- in their essence and in their functioning. Of course, so too would be the act of denouncing everything as different and/or thus as lesser. However, somewhere between these two actions is the practice of contemplation or self-reflection. It is a place where we can look at another and see ourselves. It is a place where we see our togetherness -- our real togetherness -- that exists in, through, and because of our differences. We often do not like to tread in this place because of the fear that we have of both being the same (i.e. common) and of being different (i.e. alone). For when we undergo such self-reflection, we must risk both of these things as we risk our own position (adapting it, modifying it, or rejecting it) in the risk of trying to understand that of another person. For many of us, this is just too risky.

I can see and understand what are you saying. I can say that we too train in this way. I can see how it does in some way relate to the initial problem brought up by Janet. I can also see how in many ways this type of "commitment" is far above choreographed ukemi and/or of taking falls for nage, etc. -- things most of us would complain about if it is not relegated to the addressing of learning curves (for beginners). In our own training, while this is in part related to what I read Janet to be saying, more of what is going on here is really a kind of self-willed pedagogical problem. This is why, for me, it is not wholly dealing with what I thought Janet to be discussing. This is why I attempted to answer this question differently and why I opted to talk about a different kind of commitment in one's training.

I thought Janet was referring to an internal resistance that has one fluctuating between two kinds of attachment (one to attacking with commitment and/or one to taking ukemi safely/properly). As I said, this is sort of in the type of commitment you are describing. However, I believe that the kind of paradox that shows up in what you are discussing only slightly touches upon the kind of internal resistance I was discussing. More of what is causing things like a lack of fluidity, etc., in what you are discussing is related to the structures of one's training -- more than to one's relationship with one's training (in my opinion).

Please allow me to share with you how we explain it in our dojo -- which we must do when we ask folks to go from this type of training to another level of commitment or offensive engagement: There are too many what-ifs in this type of training -- too many, "if this, then that." Moreover, too many alternatives are too much of the opposite direction to each other. This is mostly what causes the lack of presence, fluidity, etc., as one is being told to be Up and Down, Right and Left, Hot and Cold, Black and White, etc., while one is never afforded the traditional solutions for transcending such dialectical thought or action. For example: you have to have commitment, but you cannot seek to be rooted; you have to be able to hit nage if he/she does the technique but not if he/she does not; you must seek to succeed in striking uke but you must also seek to be ready for when you do not succeed; you must be engaged in your attack but you must look for escapes; etc.

If we look at this, one is being asked the impossible. One is being asked to be both up AND down, both right AND left, both hot AND cold, both black AND white. One is not being asked, though we often presume otherwise in our attempt to settle this structural paradox, to be in the middle, to be warm, or to be grey. Neither side of the dichotomy is to become ambiguous, more open, or more adaptable, while we are at the same time supposed to find meaning and sense via the very mechanisms that would under normal conditions cancel each other out in meaninglessness.

In other words, for example, we are supposed to have commitment but not be or seek to be rooted. This is oxymoronic. It is like being both hot and cold -- it is like jumbo shrimp. Eventually, we should realize that there would never be anything jumbo about shrimp. Eventually, we should realize there could never be any commitment in an attack that does not attempt to utilize the ground and thus gain a sense of rooting. Eventually, especially when we are not allowed the more traditional means of transcending dualistic thinking, we are supposed to realize that this is just another variation of the first kind of training I mentioned above. It is just another variation on the theme of cooperative/choreographed training -- by which I mean that uke stills consciously provides many of the physical forces that are by nature provided by the commitment of uke's and nage's mind, energy, body, etc.

This means that such training is really about uke and nage's attempts to "blend" with each other according to the ideals being prescribed. How do you get good at that? Simply by doing it repeatedly -- cultivating oneself to become sensitive to the fluctuations of one's partner according to the ideals prescribed by the choreography (kihon waza). By exposing oneself to a choreography repeatedly, one soon discovers even the subtlest of cues -- not only at an external level but also internally. It is like a dance step that one can time according to the music one is hearing and to the feeling one has inside. For my money, no one does this better than the Aikikai Doshu's uke. Man, these people put Olympic dressage horses to shame! However, we have to ask, "Are these committed attacks we are seeing, or are we merely seeing a commitment to the choreography?" I would say it is the latter. Additionally, I would say that eventually we have to draw a distinction between our commitments to the choreography (where we "commit" without being rooted, where we strike while ready not to strike, where we engage in our attack but look for escapes, etc.) and our committed attacks.

When we do, new solutions will arise. For example, we may come to see that it is nage's job to uproot uke or to not let uke be rooted. We may see that it is not uke's job to remain "unrooted," but that nage must respond, for example, to uke's attack sooner (at its origin or in the midst of it) -- before uke can root him/herself and when the attempt to root him/herself can be used tactically against him/her. Yet, as new solutions arise, new problems also arise. This is where I read Janet to be coming from. One of the major problems that comes up here is "How do we go from a type of training where I could remain committed and thus sensitive to a choreography that allowed to me to fluctuate between dialectics so that I could look for things like escapes (e.g. forward rolls, back breakfalls, etc.) to a type of training where it is now impossible to see (let alone look for) such escapes?"

How do we learn to attack when only attacking is being prescribed of us? We ask this here because up to now in our training this has not been asked of ourselves. Up to now, we have always had those various oppositions to fluctuate back and forth between in attempts to stay proximal to the prescribed choreography. How do we learn to land safely when nothing else is being asked of us? We ask this here because up to now in our training this has not been asked of ourselves. Up to now, we have always had those various oppositions to fluctuate back and forth between in attempts to stay proximal to the prescribed choreography. Subjectively, in committed attack training, the kind that is happening with Nature providing the relevant forces (not the conscious efforts of uke), etc., it feels like one can either attack fully OR take ukemi safely/properly -- not both.

In my opinion, things feel like this because of all the baggage we bring to such training from the earlier levels of our practice. When we were allowed to see our escapes, when we were allowed thus to look for them, when rooting became a thing to avoid because nage was not mandated to uproot us or to prevent us from rooting, when we should not allow ourselves to be rooted since nage was not mandated to address our efforts to root ourselves, etc., we prevented ourselves from addressing this new and real paradox -- one that is happening internally: If I attack fully, I crash fully. If I seek to not crash, I hesitate and de-commit in my attack. How do I do both, how do I stop one from preventing the other? Etc. This is how I understood Janet's issue -- perhaps wrongly. Either way, for this issue, in my opinion, no amount of growing accustomed can be the solution (as in the latter structural paradox). The problem is internal; the solution then must be equally internal. The solution is a reconciliation with our pride, our fear, and/or our ignorance.

Again -- just thinking out loud.

And again -- thanks Larry for the reply.

dmv

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

I sincerely hope so and look forward to that day.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Great topic! I'm going to reread the responses and post my thoughts later. One quickie...

Today I was working with various people whose attacks were pretty rooted (one might even say their ukemi was a little resistant).

I then switched to work with a sempai whose ukemi is very 'pursuing'...he is relaxed, attacking and following contantly to keep connection. Since I started training with the former, when I switched to the latter, I found my extension was pulling him way too much, messing up the maai. So it seems like the two different approaches require different types of waza on my part at this point.

Its an interesting problem. I'd like to see my waza able to handle either without a major change in method on my part.

Best,
Ron

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

David,

Exchanging ideas with you is always such a pleasure!

First, please let me recap my understanding of your post to make sure I've received the message you intended to send, then I'll try to squeeze out some useful thoughts of my own.

1. Human communication, at least the verbal kind, relies upon implicit assumptions concerning the specific meaning of the terms used. When the communicating parties have different meanings for the same term, but have not resolved the differences in advance, they can generate profound misunderstanding.

So when we're talking about "commitment" we should at least know what the other means so we can find the common basis for discussion. We must also understand the significance of the differences, so we can put the results of our discussion into the proper context and arrive at a meaningful result. This applies directly to the execution of aikido training--if I don't understand what you mean when you ask for a committed attack, I will only be able to deliver it by dumb luck.

2. Some, perhaps many, people are too embarrassed or egotistical to ask the question "what do you mean by X?" Extreme cases are too self-absorbed to believe that the question has merit. Others only take the first step--they see the commonality, but miss or refuse to look for the critical differences in meaning that can cause problems. This creates a barrier to effective communication that is very likely to frustrate our efforts to train meaningfully.

3. You are convinced that much of how Aikido is taught and learned (both "corporately" and "personally") aids and abets this failure to communicate and train effectively, by placing self-contradictory demands upon the student and by imposing a near-Pavlovian response. To wit, we do what we're expected to do to make our partner look good, whether or not it makes any martial sense. You believe that Janet's question revolves around the mental conditioning (i.e., desire to please) which has been foisted upon her by both the corporate and personal training she has absorbed.

4. You believe that both the problem and the solution reside in the student's ability to eliminate his own pride, fear and ignorance.

My thoughts follow:

1. Yep, I agree. If you've ever negotiated and tried to execute any type of personal or business contract (e.g., entered into and lived within a relationship with another human) you know that failure to agree on what things mean will doom the contract.

2. Yep, I agree here, too. Just look at why so many people get divorced.

3. I think it's really easy to end up conditioning oneself to "making the partner look good," and that it's reasonable to believe that some, perhaps many, dojos reinforce this by the way they train. I think that Ledyard-sensei has addressed this idea many times in his articles on aikido training--in fact, his current column does so again, far better than I ever could.

For me, this gets to the heart of Janet's question, 'cause I think I'm struggling with the same issue. Here's an example form my own training--hopefully, Janet will do me the favor of chiming in if I incorrectly replace her problem with my own.

We were doing katadori nikyo within the context of dynamic kihon waza--a single shoulder grab where nage's response is to step off the line and in, then, if nage succeeded in landing the grab, extending the trailing hip to create an opening for nikyo. As uke, once I landed the grab, I maintained it even when nage extended me to the floor and cranked in a decisive nikyo. From a martial standpoint, my position was martially untenable, and it ended up being nearly meaningless training for my 3rd dan partner. He looked great, but I cheated him him of the full measure of training he could have received.

Why did I hold on? Certainly not because I wanted to make him look good. I did it because I lost the martial meaning. I stupidly forgot that the grab is only the first phase of the real attack. That it's intended to unbalance and "fix" the target to create a high probability that he will be vulnerable to the second phase--a strike, either by me or my buds.

I also failed to realize that any attack-response chain can result in the attacker finding himself in a martially untenable position (no plan survives first contact with the enemy). I failed to exercise the proper martial judgment--to realize that my attack had been disrupted and that I needed to change my plan NOW. Letting go, relaxing my grip, riding his response while looking for another opening, these would have been much more martially appropriate things to do--and they would have made it much easier for me to take the kind of ukemi that would enable me to re-engage at a time and place of my choosing.

But, as I pointed out in my first post, I'm pretty single-minded and success-oriented (read persistent beyond the point of stupidity). That's been both good and bad for me over the years, and I'm working to bring it under even better control. Aikido is actually helping a lot by offering me both many more opportunities to learn this lesson and a more expansive (and useful) definition of success.

So while your conjecture about Janet's problem might be completely correct, and the internal solution you propose may be just what the doctor ordered, I'd like to pose the idea that perhaps she's a bit like me--a bulldog. And that this stems not from an overweening sense of pride, but a bit of dogged determination that's served her pretty well over the years.

It seems to me that the answer to her question "is there a degree of relaxation one learns over time within the committed, intense attack, that permits the seamless transition to connected ukemi?" is a resounding "yes!" Hopefully, our sempai will agree and will be patient enough with us that we can find our path to that answer. I think that all we have to do is train with that in mind.

I also think that the generalization you've posed about aikido pedagogy may be true to an extent, but that it need not pose any seminal internal challenge to overcome. My Dad often tells me that I think too much. In keeping with his message, perhaps it just comes down to people realizing why they train, and keeping that realization in the forefront of their minds. For me, that's training honestly within the context of budo very like what Ledyard-sensei's column puts forth.

Over to you and anyone else who wants to contribute.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Relaxation may be the result of it, but I believe it starts in trust. You can't give a committed attack to someone without 1) the trust that they'll do their best to take care of you, and 2) the trust that you've developed sufficent ukemi skill to handle what comes out.

In the first case I don't mean they won't try to throw you hard, but more that they won't intentionally put some extra twist into things that makes uke's safety impossible - certain ways of doing some throws just can't be survived without injury.

Trusting yourself I think comes out of surviving situations that really pushed you. Always training at a comfortable level will never lead to that level of ukemi skill.

So, depending on what you do with your time it's possible that someone would never get there or get their quickly. Once you develop that trust though, your mind can clear of fear and your body can do what it's supposed to without interference.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

After reading the (very interesting) discussion, I had another look at Janet's question to see what else I could pick out.
(My emphasis).

From your description, I see the problem there - that you're 'reaching a goal' and so stopping momentarily before starting something else - following/blending with uke. Very possibly its not a matter of physical tension, just a pause where you have to switch to a new task.
I'd suggest to think about the concept of Continuous Attack, that's been mentioned above. This can mean pushing on towards nage, or beginning a second strike, or moving to recover your center in order to strike again. Personally I try to keep the feeling of wanting a second strike, so that my attacks can be committed AND continuous - without the feeling that something is 'over' when the first strike fails to connect (usually :D ).

Train well,

Tim

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

I think that Jeff and Tim both have it right from a practical perspective. And in far fewer words than I used, too!

Janet, what do you think?

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

David,

Would you like to spin off a new thread addressing the question of "rooting" during martial engagements?

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

I think Janet might be away for the weekend...

Another thought that occurred to me is how to understand center, and posture, and solidity.

It's possible to be solid, and stuck to one place, or solid, but movable. This is something I get to explore with people when they first come to have Alexander technique lessons. If we take moving from standing to sitting in a chair... there's often a pause, a moment where the person needs to decide "now I want to move" and unstick themselves from the standing posture, in order to start moving. Someone who is able to stand more ...fluidly can go from standing to moving into the chair without the pause, even though they were standing in balance and apparently quite well in balance (we're never in balance, but we can appear to be :)).

What I'm saying is, I've never met Janet in person so I don't know if this applies to her, but sometimes people get fixed when they want to be solid/centered /(rooted? :)), and wanting to deliver an intense attack might be associated with the idea that in order to do that one needs to be solid/centered in a particular way. And maybe there's a different way of being solid/centered and attacking intensely, that isn't fixed, and that allows one to move easily if it's required.

How's that for indirect? :)

About words... solid makes me think very heavy, downward, not mobile. Lot's of "centered" people I've met like to push their pelvis into their legs, making movement in the hip joint difficult. Not a fault of the words themselves, but words can be tricky things.

As uke, I prefer "strategic" to "committed".

kvaak
Pauliina

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

WOW I've opened an interesting conversation!! I'm enjoying reading through it today and have just gotten through David's long one. Many thanks to all and esp for this one. I would use different language to express what you are saying but I think in essence we are discussing the same phenomenon. yes....gonna keep reading the thread....

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Nope, I'm a badger :-)
Seriously, no, I don't hang on that way. Though in a kihon situation, I WOULD hold on to the shoulder grab because that is the "problem" I as uke have been asked to pose of nage. In a more open and flowing situation, I'd want to stay loose and looking for reversals, so not commit to just one attack.
Larry, I don't at all mind other questions and situations coming into the thread though, so don't fret for a moment!
The piece of the puzzle for me is that moment of transition and yes to some degree it IS a question of "what is being asked of me?" My nature is to be behind the beat, watching, THEN acting.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

(grin) I think Tim and Pauliina have a good sense of some of the somatic and conceptual issues.
I know I'm enjoying and learning.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

A badger? As in, "When you say WIS-consin ...?" (I lived in the UP for a few years, eh?)

Sorry for any misunderstanding; our kihon waza is a flowing situation, even for newbies. That's why I called it "dynamic."

And given that you see Tim and Pauliina as having the right of the problem, I'm even more confident that "yes" is the right answer to your question. Now, as to how to get there ...

... I'm trying (though clearly not always successfully) to concentrate on the attributes I want my engagements to have--smoothness, martial honesty and tactical flexibility. I'm also trying to visualize moving as if I'm in a viscous liquid like oil (olive , of course, it's better for my old heart!).

Will let you know how it turns out .. in a decade or so, probably, knowing my rate of progress.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Great posts everyone - I really enjoyed them. I'll try and contribute something tomorrow. I think a lot of great points have been raised.

thanks so much,
d

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Hi Larry,

Just had a thought. When I was "home" a month ago, working with Mike Lasky Sensei was a real experience.

I forgot how strong he can be and responsive to subtle shifts in balance, intent, direction.

He feels very rooted, and strong, even on his attacks, but he is also flowing and dynamic...all at the same time! I know you know what I am talking about!

I think it is a matter of experience of finding that "sweet spot" between strength and flow. Or something like that!

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

I'm going to jump on a word again.

I don't think it's "between"... it's somewhere else entirely. :)

I think that if you keep thinking of strength and flow as two opposites, or two ends of a continuum, you'll always have this apparent dilemma. Strong and flowing can both exist at the exact same moment together.

Is that what you were saying David?

kvaak
Pauliina
off the mat because of a cold :(

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Hi Pauliina,

Yes, I would not want to make an opposition between being strong and being flowing.

d

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Okay - here is what I go - it's long - so please skip it as you wish.




As I said above, I think everyone has made some very good points. I would like to try and comment on a few of them generally, while at the same time perhaps elaborating a bit more on what I was attempting to discuss before -- which Larry did an excellent job of summarizing.

First, I think that Jeff is right in pointing out that issues of trust are involved. Thus, I have to say that in my comments I am referring to how training takes place in our dojo -- where everyone knows everyone very well and everyone takes care of each other very well, etc. I cannot really comment outside of that. In other words, I am going to assume that trust is present. For the sake of this discussion then I am assuming that we are talking about an environment where no one on the mat has any ill will toward anyone else and no one would ever put his or her own mundane practice against the now and future practice of anyone else (via causing them injury or risking them injury). Therefore, like in our dojo, while we may experience injuries due to intense training levels, we are to never see a case of someone intentionally adding in some "extra twist" that more guarantees that Uke would be injured.

Second, in reading Janet's post, I zeroed in on what Tim did as well. Again, this may or may not have been what Janet was meaning, but I was trying to refer to that sense of having difficulty in going from one task (i.e. attacking) to another task (i.e. taking ukemi) when we are practicing with committed attacks. I have found this to be quite a common difficulty -- at least at our own dojo where we do seek to operate under such training parameters increasingly.

As we have all mentioned before, there are a lot of grey areas here -- with a lot of overlap - so let me try and be as specific as I can by giving three examples wherein issues of commitment might be raised and how these issues might or might not relate to a difficulty in transitioning from attacking to taking ukemi. I will be attempting to address three different kinds of commitment and some reasons why we do or do not see a problem in transitioning from attacking to taking ukemi, etc. In the examples, I will try to just take mune-tsuki as the attack, and I will try to work with Irimi Nage Tenkan as the tactical response. I will also try tweak these examples so that they can relate to other things said throughout the thread.


a. In this first example, an uke attacks but does not penetrate the target and/or seeks (consciously or unconsciously) to miss the target by wavering right or left in its vector. While others may disagree, I would categorize this attack as not being committed. It would not be committed because it seeks more NOT to have a relationship with the prescribed or intended target than it does to have a relationship with the prescribed or intended target. This kind of attack, however, can make for an ease of transition in going from attacking to taking "ukemi" safely/"properly." For example, if the technique being applied is Irimi Nage Tenkan, should Uke strike first to miss Nage and then second to go around Nage in the direction of the Kuzushi, such a waver in the initial vector would lend itself biomechanically to circling around Nage as choreographed by the ideal pattern of the technique (i.e. Irimi Nage Tenkan).

From my point of view, this is the most common thing seen in Aikido. Most folks train at this level, with this understanding of "commitment" (and of "ukemi") most of the time. As a result, tactical architectures themselves have even come to be constructed according to the ease that such wavering lends itself to the "ukemi" in question (which is the same ease that lends itself to "succeeding" in Nage's role as well). For example, more folks tend to seek to take Uke back in the opposite direction from the initial direction of the strike. This is not a problem under these conditions since Uke's "commitment" has lent itself to having Uke circle around Nage. However, under normal conditions (i.e. someone actually trying to hit you but misses you because you deviate from the Line of Attack), this course of action would actually result in a clash -- since Uke was going one direction (i.e. forward) but Nage is attempting to force them in the opposite direction (i.e. backwards).

Moreover, at a practical level, one not only sees a clash, but one more often sees a failure of the technique itself. This occurs because it requires too much energy on Nage's part to actually manifest the clash fully -- for all to see. What most often happens, since Nage often does not possess the kind of energy needed to reverse Uke's direction at all, is that Uke either goes flying by Nage and/or is not at all affected as choreographed in the technique. This is a very simple thing to experience. All you have to do is get you and your friend together and have one of you punch as hard and as fast as you can with no intention of doing anything else but that. Have the other one of you attempt to do Irimi Nage Tenkan as it is commonly prescribed and you will quickly come to experience the clash that comes from trying to take Uke in the opposite direction (pulling him/her) from the one they were striking toward.

The ignoring of this clash/tactical failure, by having Uke seek to miss and go around Nage, not only affords Nage's response a viability it would not have under more committed conditions, it, as I said above, allows Uke a less difficult time in transitioning from attacking to taking ukemi. This transition is made less difficult because it reduces the clarity of each of the two problematized aspects in Uke's role. That is to say, as the attack is not so clearly delineated, take the ensuing ukemi becomes less something one has to transition to. In a way, one is attacking and falling at the same time. For better or for worse, this has become what "commitment" means to the majority of aikidoka practicing today -- in my opinion. For many, if you are not attacking and falling at the same time, you are not attacking with "commitment."

Since this aids many of the tactical architectures currently in use, and since such "ukemi" can often beef up even the best of our egos as Nage, most Nage's come to support such ukemi by either instructing it, requesting it, and/or reinforcing it by opting to use Uke that can act thusly over those that cannot or will not. Therefore, because both Uke and Nage are "partnered" in this silent contract to make each other's roles more "easier/ego satisfying," I do not think we see too much of what Janet was trying to discuss. There is no commitment, and there is no difficultly in transitioning from attacking to taking ukemi safely/properly. That is why I saw Janet's dilemma as happening within another kind of commitment.



b. In this case, we have one trying to train like I mentioned above in the "try it at home" (get you and your friend) example. Here, one strikes as hard and as fast as one can with no other intention but this. With this kind of training, two things often come up, or, really, one thing comes up but it is often treated in two entirely different ways. I will divide these up into "b-1" and "b-2."

b-1. This first way brings us back to the kind of training we saw in example a. That is to say, there is a semi-conscious attempt to make certain aspects of the assumed choreography easier -- making any transition between different aspects of Uke's role also easier. However, it is usually Nage or Nage's role that is the catalyst for this (which is different from Uke mainly doing it and Nage benefiting from it as in example a).

In this approach, in the technique of Irimi Nage Tenkan from mune-tsuki, Uke is often instructed not to attack thusly (with so much commitment -- though this is not said outright). This occurs because Uke in his/her commitment subverts the intended architecture (by exposing the clash that is normally not present because of how Uke usually seeks to miss Nage and then to go around Nage). However, because it becomes impossible for some to doubt a given tactical architecture and/or their capacity to perform it, Uke is often faulted under the guise of needing to seek a better understanding of ukemi. That is to say, Uke attacks hard and fast, the technique fails, but rather than faulting the self (the Nage) or the architecture (which for many is simply beyond question), Uke is faulted and thus is required to learn how to "more properly" attack hard and fast (i.e. with "commitment"). This causes a problem because Uke did feel that he/she did attack with commitment and is now not sure what to do. However, in my opinion, this is not the problem I was trying to address in discussing what Janet brought up. This is a different kind of problem in my opinion.

The problem here is really one of culture, and the apparent paradox is unsolvable only outside of gaining the relevant and necessary cultural experience -- it is not a real paradox in my opinion. That is to say, Uke simply has to expose him or herself to the cultural assumptions that have come to make up the arbitrary understanding of what "commitment" means under these considerations and within this given situation. When Uke does this, the "paradox" is solved. What does this cultural process look like? It usually comes in the form of suggestions, advice, encouragements, admonishments, etc., that direct Uke in how to attack with "commitment," but not with commitment. Whatever shape these things may actually take in regards to how to attack with "commitment," they are all usually part of modern Aikido's conventional wisdom. They most often refer to all of the Aikido buzzwords. In general, they are some form of requesting Uke to match Nage (i.e. to de-commit from his/her own tactical agenda). Slowly, then, for all kinds of reasons, Uke is given more responsibility beyond just striking as hard and as fast as he/she can. Slowly then, commitment comes to mean more than it could or should. All kinds of "legitimate" reasons are given for these additions in meaning, but they all work to bring training back to the level witnessed in example a -- at least in essence. Thus, as I said above, one has no problem in facing the difficulty in transitioning from attacking to taking ukemi because real commitment is not present once the acculturation processes has been completed.

The directives that lead our training in this way may often sound like this: "You have to be more dynamic in your ukemi," "You should not be so rooted in your ukemi," "You have to follow Nage's lead," "You have to blend with Nage more," "You as Uke have to be ready for anything," etc. Because these slogans, and many others like them, are really just requests for Uke to not attack in so committed a fashion, but also because Uke (and Nage) do wish to train at a somewhat more "committed" level than what is seen in example a., some differences do exist. In example b's understanding of "commitment," "commitment" often comes to be understood as or abstractly represented by things that are usually only A PART of commitment (i.e. not commitment). Examples of this are: "hitting/touching Nage if he/she does not move off of the line," "continually striking at Nage via the same initial mechanisms if he/she possesses any ‘openings,'" etc. Nevertheless, what is important to note here is that Uke is soon not attacking like anyone else would (in other arts) but is now attacking only like a cultivated aikidoka would. This happens because we are slowly cultivated to move away from commitment so that we can move toward "commitment."

Thus, in example b while one does not have to face the difficulty of transitioning from a truly committed attack to ukemi, one does have to learn how to attack in a non-committed fashion and how to understand this new non-committed attack as a "committed" attack. This is not always so easy to do -- at least for some. For some folks, it is quite hard to figure this all out. They are pressed between their good faith toward the art, their teacher, etc., and their common sense (yet to be cultivated) understanding of commitment. One has to figure out how some added responsibilities that are shoved on Uke are supposed to add to his/her commitment and not take away from it. In other words, one is looking at a cultural process by which one slowly and subtly comes to understand what is not a committed attack (i.e. a thing that only has some aspects of a committed attack) as a committed attack and at the resistance we may all experience via a kind of culture shock. However, until this process fulfills itself, one is at a loss concerning how to go from what is a committed attack to what is being understood as ukemi but this loss is more centered on trying to figure out the new "committed" attack. It is not really about the difficulty in transition regarding moving between a committed attack and ukemi. It is about a difficult in transition regarding moving between holding a more objective understanding of commitment to a cultural understanding of commitment. One is facing the pressures that come to us via the art's presumptions regarding its idealized training environments. We must understand, in my opinion, that it is as if the role and responsibility of Uke, via a particular understanding of ukemi, twists and warps our own initial common sense on what commitment is so that we can eventually comes to see what "commitment" should be.

Regardless of how perplexing this acculturation process may be for some, as I said, earlier, I do not think that this is what is being referred to in Janet's post -- or at least it is not what came to my mind when reading Janet's post - because I do not really see this as a problem. One simply has to learn the rules of the game and then play accordingly. For that to happen, one simply requires the proper exposure to the given culture and the needed time to mature in that culture. One has to learn to "do as the Roman's do." In fact, one's difficulty in this acculturation process has more to do with one's resistance to "doing what the Roman's do" than with anything else. If one can let go of their current and more real notion of what commitment is and come to adopt Aikido's cultural understanding of it should be, one's body will move accordingly with little to no problem in transitioning from attacking to taking ukemi. This is because there is no real difficulty in transitioning because this level of "commitment" does not inhibit one from taking ukemi safely/properly.

b-2. In this example, both Uke and Nage expect the same thing from Uke's role, as far as attacking goes. Both expect Uke to strike as hard and as fast as he/she can -- no more, no less. In addition, of course, the training itself, which includes both the roles of Nage and Uke, assumes that Uke will not die because of the level of practice. Before Uke can get a subjective sense of the difficulty of transitioning from attacking with commitment to taking ukemi safely/properly, Nage must of course be in possession of tactical architectures that can address such intent and he/she must also be in possession of enough skill to embody those architectures under such training conditions. If Nage does not have these things, then Uke will not face a difficulty in transitioning from attacking to taking ukemi. This is because Uke's commitment will in most likelihood cause every action of Nage to fail and/or to operate at such a level that Uke transitioning from one aspect of his/her role to another becomes quite easy (due to a slow pace and/or to a luxury of time).

However, if Uke is training with a Nage that does posses such things, Uke is set for experiencing one of the greatest obstacles to training at more advanced levels (e.g. spontaneous levels, etc.). Here's what happens: Uke comes in with mune-tsuki as hard and as fast as he/she can (however that is determined); Nage has and can utilize a tactical architecture (i.e. a given version of Irimi Nage Tenkan) that does work in conjunction with such intent (i.e. not requiring Uke to be more dynamic, not requiring Uke to be less rooted, not requiring Uke to blend with him/her, not requiring Uke to follow his/her lead, etc.) -- an architecture that seeks to benefit from such commitment, from such rooting, from such intent, etc.; and before Uke knows what happens, or more correctly put, as Uke is in full commitment, Uke goes flying and somehow has to land safely/properly -- but usually does not (not at first at least).

Here, the unknown comes to plague us. It is brought about because of the attachment we normally have in our own committed attacks. This is the very same attachment that plagues a Nage under spontaneous training conditions - within his/her attempts to respond defensively in the face of the unknown. Here, that attachment, or the plagues of attachment, is/are amplified by Nage's viable tactical architecture and his/her correct application of that architecture. Facing this, Uke is in an entirely different scenario than he/she has probably ever been in before regarding Ukemi. It is a new experience, and one not quite identical to the rare one we've all had where some Shihan managed to throw us out of nowhere under less extreme conditions.

Perhaps, at first, we are not able to put our finger on all that is different in this type of ukemi, but we are immediately struck by how hard and how fast it was, how terrifying it was, how powerless we were though we were at first feeling our most powerful, how we could not do a simply breakfall, etc. In addition, worst of all, we know it is going to happen again -- the second we get up and attack just like we did before. What usually happens at this point? Uke, on their own, often sub-consciously, starts to disengage from the attack here or there in an attempt to get some sort of handle on the ukemi -- to find some sort of pathway to how they have experienced ukemi up until this point in their training. However, this is a regression, an attempt to return to what is known, and/or a resistance toward further progress. For example, an Uke might attack slower, or seek to penetrate the target less deeply, or stutter in their action, etc., so that they can possibly see or feel more what is going to happen as they are experiencing what is happening. In a way, by reducing their commitment, Uke is trying to get back to the first level of training (in example a) -- where one's attack is more conducive to their then level of practicing ukemi (which also happens in example b but by different means). Uke is trying to have the attack be the ukemi. In a way then, Uke is trying to get rid of the unknown, just the way a Nage might (incorrectly) tend to do within a spontaneous training environment.

However, knowing and not knowing is not the issue. We will not by knowing what to do come to practice non-attachment and thus be able to attack with commitment and land safely/properly. Knowing and not knowing is simply the beginner's mistake in trying to address the issue of non-attachment. As I said, this is the exact same thing that a Nage must face under spontaneous training conditions: the capacity to accept the here and now fully, or the capacity to practice non-attachment in the face of violence (especially against oneself). For me then, since this is all about the need for the cultivation of non-attachment, this means that Uke will have to reconcile this difficultly in transition in the same way that Nage will in regards to spontaneous training conditions. That means an Uke is going to have go within, dig deep, to reconcile the seeds of attachment that mark our habitual self -- to purify our false view that we can know and that in knowing will remain safe (in a broad sense). When an Uke can do this, the distinction between attacking and ukemi will fade away -- just as it does for the Nage in regards to his/her facing the attack and his/her tactical response. However, each aspect will maintain its clarity and its integrity, since such transcendence of distinction happens internally and not via some external, artificial, and/or cultural attempt to make the former more complimentary to the latter.

dmv

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

I try to be honest. When I attack I do so with the intention of placing tori on the mat, skill of the tori accepted. If the attack is jodan tsuki, then that's what they get and I try to ensure that I'm ready to attack immediately after tsuki (or whatever the attack is) is thrown, as I would if I were sparing or fighting. After that it's tori's job to place me on my behind and mine to ensure I don't get hurt as it would be for real. Some people often need help throwing me, so I usually help them out, it's dishonest but it has to be done.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

David,

I think your analysis of the first example is spot on. As Kevin has alluded to, at our dojo we're fortunate in that Sorrentino-sensei and Lasky-sensei encourage us all to not accept or engage in this kind of "negative training." It builds a false sense of confidence, incorrect use of timing and spacing, and overall poor martial judgment

It seems to me that your second situation presumes that uke is one of those folks who feels they must always be in control, or at least know what's supposed to happen so they can be sure to make it happen (hence the deeper psychological problem?).

Where that's the case, again, you're spot on, and I think this may be the situation in which Janet finds herself (please, Janet, chime in if I've misrepresented something). It sounds as though she wants to have enough control of things that she can deliver both the prescribed problem and the expected resolution, both for her sake and for her partner's feelings(?).

Saotome-sensei stresses that aikido is not about controlling the other guy, whether it's uke or nage; it's about controlling yourself. I think that the seeds of the solution may reside therein.

If uke controls his martially valid attack such that he ensures that he has martially valid options for continuation or escape (that is, the attack is not over-committed), he has done as much as he can to control how the attack will be resolved. He must then be sensitive enough to read the somatic cues nage gives him so that he can decide which option (for simplicity's sake, let's say continue to attack or take a roll or fall), is the best choice. Along this line, Sorrentino-sensei frequently reminds us that ukemi is not something that happens to you, it's something you choose to do. Even a very strong uke cannot seek to control nage's reaction without risking injury to one or the other party.

As others have indicated, the task is needlessly complicated when folks view attack and defense as separate pieces of the puzzle. I think that thinking of it as "attack while protecting ourselves" and "follow-up while protecting ourselves" helps eliminate the changeover point that's causing us so much trouble?

In other words, Janet and I will both simplify our problem if we stop trying to control more of the interaction than is within our reach.

As you've observed, training works best when partners can trust each other not to inflict injury. I think that this trust is what provides uke the freedom to focus on controlling himself and responding to nage's cues. It must be built over time. This also ties in with your discussion of the psychological problem. Both partners must work to eliminate the fear that inspires the lack of trust that leads to over-control that leads to invalid and potentially dangerous training.

I think this is why many dojos (ours included) use the principle that one should "attack no harder than he wants to fall." As Ledyard-sensei has frequently pointed out, slow training does NOT equal invalid training. When used properly, as I've seen in many of the videos from your dojo, it's a step along the way to whatever level of safe, reliable performance one seeks to attain in the long run. As nage's experience increases, he can get even a hard-charging uke to effectively slow down (hesitate or "hitch") by using pre-emptive kuzushi (kiai and/or atemi) to assume control of the resolution early in the engagement. A uke who fails to react to a martially valid atemi is doing something that's martially risky--it fails the "protecting ourselves" part of the task.

This post has gotten too long, so I'll listen now.

Anyone else have comments?

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Great thread!

As I read through the posts I was thinking of my interactions in the dojo. I am often asked to be uke for the sensei's demonstrations during class. The sensei is also a work mate of mine (in fact he got me started in this crazy art) and as I have progressed through the grades, the friendship that we have built both on and off the mat has created a great environment for training.

I am always surprised by the level of intensity we can train at. I can attack him strongly, thinking nothing of the fall - in fact he will often not tell me what he is about to do - and know that my ukemi will protect me.

I took my first high breakfall from him.

Many posts spoke of trust. I couldn't agree more. The trust I have for my sensei was built in the first few months of my training, going slowly but always with the intention of an attack that expected to hit.

When I voice my amazment of how well my ukemi went on a particular training night, my sensei would say "It is because of the good relationship we have. We have trust."

I think Janet's question has been thoroughly answered. One must eventually let go of the idea that you will attack, then take ukemi. The two eventually become the same thing at high intensity.

At my last training session, I was asked to grab my senesi while we were doing a two-handed grab from the front. The response at the time was tenchi-nage. I had been practising the technique with my partner when sensei came over and said he would like to show us senior kyu grades (I have only been training for a few years) another version of tenchi-nage. He told me to attack him. I did so without hesitation, grabbing strongly, with the intention of controlling him. The instant I moved to attack and made contact, I found myself with feet flying out from under me, and I landed in a bizarre position on the ground. Not hurt, just feeling awkward. A great feeling. My body acted in such a way that allowed me to fall safely while my mind was still trying to catch up. I had never experienced that technique before so there was no way of knowing what was going to happen.
However, due to the trust I had for my nage, I was relaxed and didn't freeze the instant things felt different (to be honest I didn't even get the chance to decide when things felt different).

I certainly wasn't following a choreographed form in this situation. I simply attacked. The rest just happened.

Of course, as I get more and more positive experiences with this training partner, my ability to be an honest uke becomes better and better.

What is also interesting is that my ability to be a good uke for others has improved also. I trust that I can protect myself with most people, even the beginners that snap things on. I have learnt to read the small cues from them to know I need to do something to protect myself. This might be moving ahead of the pain therefore taking a roll or fall even though my balance isn't taken, it may be pointing out the the beginner to slow down.

Trust is a huge factor IMO.

Sorry if this deviates too much from the original question.

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Janet, (obviously this is in my opinion) the issue is how comfortable you are with your ukemi skills. As uke, you're job is to attack. That's it. Whether it's a strike or a grab or whatever, you just attack.

Now, allegedly, Nage will disrupt your balance. That's not your problem. Your problem is attacking. If you lose your balance, you get it back, then you attack again. If your attack is successful then nage will be unable to initiate an immediate attack on you. If your attack is not successful, you should recover your ability to be dangerous and attack again until it is inappropriate for you to do so (say, the end of the waza that you are doing).

If nage causes your structure to be so unstable that you have to fall down, you keep attacking with your intent. You never just "fall", you follow nage's directing of your movement to get yourself to a more tactically advantageous position (in other words, instead of splatting yourself on the floor, you take effective ukemi to save your butt, and possibly position yourself for another attack by rolling out or laying on your back with feet and hands as ready weapons to defend yourself).

Too many people equate ukemi with "falling" and "losing". It is tactically advantageous to not die, so even if you get pinned, it's still an advantageous place over having your neck broke. Ukemi is a tactical tool, not a survival mechanism. As you progress you begin to learn to counter Nage while you are being thrown. You can't do that if you're "falling", you can only do that if you're still attacking. Likewise, you can't attack while falling if you aren't comfortable falling.

Which brings me back to where my point, you've got to be comfortable enough with taking ukemi that you don't stop and think "okay, time to fall". You need to think, "attack, recover, attack, recover,attack." If you end up flying straight over your wrist, you still are thinking attack. And if you end up on the ground think, get up and attack (even if you can't get up, you still try by testing nage's pin and you keep your intent going until the waza is finished). There's just no way to do that if you're thinking "how am I supposed to fall, oh my gosh I'm falling, I've got to breath out and relax, keep my wheel round, tuck and roll, etc." At that point you are no longer connected with nage, you can't effect their center, you can't counter their waza, and you certainly can't make a viable attack. By then, you've got to wait until you're on the ground safe, find your bearings (and nage), switch your mind to attack mode, and then start all over again. If nage happens to be a 185 lb prize fighter with a some skill under his belt, a knife in his off-hand, and no problem with opening your veins, then you're in a very bad way. (to put all that into a short sentence, you need to keep the zanshin between you and nage from the time you bow till you bow again. nage's a training partner, but in the learning paradigm, they are not your friend)

Now, having said that, don't go all rabid monkey on poor nage. One can (and should) attack slow, precise, focused, with specific intent, in an appropriate manner for the waza, the partner, the exercises, the class, the dojo, the style, etc. The important part is that you don't give up, or stop, or speed up, or freeze up, or cheat by "knowing" what is going to happen and anticipating and/or stopping nage from doing it. Just go get 'em, and if you're in the air, stay connected and don't give up, you may turn the waza on 'em

Re: committed attack/sensitive ukemi paradox
 

Oh crap!!! One more thing... I made it sound like you're "jumping" for nage to get to that "tactically advantageous ukemi"...

I didn't mean that. Take real ukemi. If they throw you, they throw you. Don't jump for nage. That's cheating too.

(dang I talk too much!)