A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
1 Attachment(s)
This essay was originally published, in slightly different form, on Stanley Pranin's Aikido Journal http://blog.aikidojournal.com/ website. He has kindly allowed me to republish it on the Aikiweb site.
Author's Note: I am not an aikidoka. I formally withdrew from Kuwamori Dojo in 1978. But previous to that, I trained well over 7,500 hours in the art -- on the mat, under the tutelage of some of the finest aikido teachers alive. I owe a tremendous amount to aikido, for it led me to a number of other things, and because of its particular character, I've never stopped thinking about it, writing about it, and, paradoxically, working on it. Over the years, some dojos have invited me to teach seminars, believing that what I did learn in aikido, enhanced with further study in various arts over the last 35 years, leaves me with something to offer. I am of the opinion that no martial art is better than another, but not for the reasons some might think. Some martial arts are clearly, undeniably, better for fighting, at least in certain contexts, and some martial arts are far more adaptable when moved to a different context. Each martial art is good for what its good for, and whatever it is good for is what it is made for. Consider this: in prewar Japan, professional sumo players were, on average, probably the toughest, most fearsome empty-handed fighters around. During the Second World War, they were primarily used as draft animals, like donkeys or other beasts, to haul heavy objects up hills. Both when I teach aikido, and when I try to address an issue within the context of aikido, my thoughts are this: whatever I like or don't like, whatever methodology I subscribe to or not, when in someone's house, I must respect the house. My critique, therefore, must take into account, the foundations upon which the house is built. If I have anything from the "outside" to contribute to aikido, I must ask myself how I strive to do so with respect. From a martial perspective, some people, treated with disrespect or patronization, will kill you, and from a human perspective, it ill becomes the martial man or woman. This essay was written in that spirit. He then learned Daito-ryu from Sokaku Takeda, became his disciple for many years, and received a menkyo kaiden [Ueshiba actually received the kyoju dairi or "instructor's certification"] and the position of substitute master for Takeda Sensei. Since then he has studied hard to absorb the essence of various schools of martial arts and mastered lightning-fast empty-handed arts (taijutsu) against weapons, military arms and modern firearms to create his own unique school. He is the foremost figure in the modern world of traditional Japanese martial arts…. He has combined conventional martial techniques with the ancient Japanese mystical religion of Shintoism to establish his own new school of martial arts of the Kami for the benefit and glory of the Emperor. Hisa, Takuma, 1942[i] Then he said, "Before you go, is there anything you want to ask me?" So I said simply, "O-Sensei, what is aikido?" He responded by saying, "Well, let me write it down for you and someday you can read it and understand." What he wrote were the words: "intellectual training, physical training, virtue training, ki training-these produce practical wisdom." He added that it wouldn't do for even one of these to be missing, that lacking any one of them would render everything for naught and inevitably slow one's overall development. One must, he told me, always maintain a harmonious balance among these. Interview with Mariye Takahashi, Aikido Journal #120 My First Encounters with the Subject of Internal Power Training As I have written elsewhere,[ii] my first view of aikido smacked me between the eyes like a bolt from the great beyond: first, because it seemed to offer a moral vision, appearing to be an embodiment of the resolution of conflict; secondly, it seemed possible that through the practice of aikido, one could possibly acquire almost superhuman power. Both of these "promises" seemed to be proven by accounts of the life and translated sayings, as well as photos and films, of the warrior-sage, Ueshiba Morihei. This led me to five years of training an average of six hours a day, including a stint living on the mat of the Bond Street Dojo in New York City. However, although I encountered some superlative martial artists, both in America and Japan, none whom I personally met displayed the kind of power that was attributed to Ueshiba, referred to in Japanese by such terms as nairiki, kokyu-ryoku or aiki, and in English as "internal strength." Although many of these shihan were far more highly skilled martial artists than I would ever be, all of their techniques were "physically understandable;" they simply were better athletes and in some cases, better fighters than I was, the same as high level judoka and kickboxers among whom I later met and trained. I did encounter the teachings of Tohei Koichi, and trained at his dojo in Honolulu. However, his four basic principles seemed, at the time, to merely be ways to relax to allow the flow of "ki" which, in every discussion I heard, was like some sort of "energic fluid" that one directed at will through one's body. I never did meet Tohei (perhaps my loss), but at any rate, I found nothing exceptionally different from other aikido teachers among the leading lights among his disciples whom I did meet, nor did anyone seem to offer training which provided an avenue to the acquisition of that kind of power, even at aikido's headquarters dojo. Eventually, I met with Osawa Kisaburo and formally resigned my training in aikido and concentrated on other martial arts.[iii] I was later fortunate to meet several teachers among Chinese martial artists who had very high levels of internal training. I didn't know if what they were doing was the same as that of Ueshiba, but I did know that it was remarkable. Internal strength was not merely a matter of legend or fantastic stories: it was real. Among the first was Wang Shu Chin, http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CGjE-zM9MqE. I saw Wang, then terminally ill with cancer, drop a Kyokushinkai karate champion to the ground by stepping inside his attack and hugging him. The man fell, boneless, wheezing for breath. (Now, looking at films of Wang, I can see the wave of force travelling through his relaxed body from his feet, amplified with his spine. In addition, close observation of his legs shows that this "belly punch" was just another version of what is regarded as xingyi ch'uan's most powerful technique, called beng ch'uan, his belly replacing the fist we usually see in this technique).[iv] All he seemed to teach, however, was a t'ai chi form where, without any instruction, we tried to follow along as best we could. Unfortunately, I did not realize that the simple "warm-up" exercises with which we started each class were actually the heart of his skill and power, something I later found out he did many hours a day. I missed several other similar opportunities in subsequent years. None of those teachers explicitly stated that "internal power training is done ‘this' way," but in retrospect, they presented their personal training methods right in front of me. I didn't realize that they were throwing down a gauntlet, and had I picked it up, I might have been invited "inside the door" a long time ago. I, too, have experienced the phenomenon of overlooking something "hidden in plain sight." Like traditional instructors of almost any art in China and Japan, teachers of internal strength or other high-level martial arts techniques will only offer such training to students who consider everything they do of such importance that they incessantly practice even the trivial solo exercises that seem far divorced from form and fighting applications; that they take any statement, no matter how obscure and gnomic, as holding some essential knowledge. Rather than being spoon-fed, you must scrabble in the dirt to pick up the rare grains that are thrown down. Some in the West may find such a concept outrageous, but what I have found over the years is that if you continue to appear before the teacher, increasingly nourished by such mean fare, you may eventually be ushered to the table where a banquet awaits. Consider that, until recently, these skills were the equivalent to plans for a Predator Drone or "stealth fighter." They would only be offered to someone considered both worthwhile and trustworthy. The problem for many in such traditional settings was and is that you may be half-starved before being initiated, if that happens at all. Many end up so disheartened that they quit. Others find teachers who are content to keep the real meal to themselves, throwing only scraps to their students, preferring to manipulate them so that they have loyal followers rather than successors. In truth, many allegedly great teachers have nothing more than such scraps to offer. On the other hand, people find the teachers they are meant to find. If you are being cheated by a teacher and do not recognize it, then, from one perspective, you've found exactly the teacher you are suited for. This was once a world in which one truly threw one's life away in hopes of gaining treasure, and sincerity was measured by the willingness of a student to risk all to acquire such skills. And among of the things that one risked is that, having given all, you might be cast aside in the dust yourself. That such a teaching method may perhaps no longer be suited to the current age does not negate the fact that through it, generation after generation, it created martial artists like Yagyu Tajima no Kami, Takenouchi Hisamori, Takeda Sokaku, and Ueshiba Morihei, men who were tempered like fine steel, quite different from the iron men, the ordinary fighters of their era. One final point: the jury is still out for me whether open teaching produces a greater number of high-level students. To be sure, "basic training," whether in the military or civilian situations, requires meticulous instruction, for such information must be for anyone and everyone in one's cadre. High-level training, however, requires high-level people, and high-level skills will only be acquired by an elite few -- those who are both innately talented, and obsessively, pervasively committed. I have heard from several teachers who are diligent and open, some of whom are instructors of koryu and others of internal training methodologies, who carry the attitude that they will hide nothing, that "there are no secrets." Yet, each has told me that although they have a lot of people studying, they only have one or two students. It is possible that, although the "open" teacher provides a more pleasant, psychologically supportive training environment, he or she may have, at the end, the same number of great students: one or two. "Steal the technique" is not only something one has to do with a teacher like Takeda Sokaku or Ueshiba Morihei, who allegedly shows a technique only once; it also occurs with any teacher, because explanation is not experiential. One has to breathe in the skills through the pores, not the ears. My Re-Discovery of Internal Strength Training In recent years, I rediscovered this subject, both through discourse on the Internet and through meeting people actually possessing some level of these skills. One early meeting stands out in my mind: pushing on the arms of an unmoving man in a (light) sparring situation, and finding that the harder I pushed, the more I found myself pushing myself away on a tangent, although he was not moving at all, and then, in the midst of this, finding myself drawn inwards, and having him almost cave my chest in -- or so it felt -- with a shoulder strike that started with our bodies in contact, with no discernible windup whatsoever. The first portion seemed absolutely congruent with Ueshiba's statement to Takeshita Isamu, "Aiki is a means of achieving harmony with another person so that you can make them do what you want,"[v] and the second with his oft-cited statement that "atemi is 90% of aikido." It was at this point that it seemed apparent to me that the "magic" that Ueshiba was doing was most probably something analogous, if not identical to the skills displayed by experts in Chinese martial arts. I do not mean that Ueshiba was doing exactly the same thing as such noted experts as Chen Xiaowang or Feng Zhiqiang, to name only two (experts assert that even they, "cousins" in lineage, are not doing everything the same), but that the core principles of all internal training share the same criteria, overlapping in different proportions depending on the art. For this reason, and due to the fact that I will be discussing aikido for the rest of this essay, I will, from here onward, refer to internal training as "aiki." One thing about aiki: it, alone, will not make a strong martial artist, anymore than the ability to lift six hundred pounds.[vi] However, it offers the martial artist the opportunity to imbue any and all techniques with a different method of generating power and managing incoming forces. To use a crude metaphor, it is the change from monaural to stereo, or monochrome to color. In one sense, nothing changes: in another, everything. I began training in some of the development methods for these skills, and I wrote Hidden in Plain Sight: Tracing the Roots of Ueshiba Morihei's Power.[vii] In the book, I attempted to elucidate the Chinese roots of many of these skills that are within the curriculum of various Japanese martial traditions; to highlight the skills and resurrect the memory of the often maligned Takeda Sokaku; to establish clear evidence that Ueshiba Morihei had such abilities; to tease out how he taught (and how he did not) and to try to figure out why he was either unsuccessful, or willfully did not pass these skills on to many, and to those, apparently, only a portion of his own.[viii] Coupling whatever small influence my writing may have had with the efforts of several individuals who began publicly teaching internal training methods as "generic skills," as opposed to within closed martial traditions, this resulted in the ignition of a small fire within the worldwide aikido community. Let me emphasize the word "small." I would wager that there are not even 500 aikidoka, maybe far less, actively engaged in specific training to transform the way one uses one's body in regards to the expression of power, the redirection of force within one's body, etc. Yet despite the importance that 500 or so people might ascribe to this subject and the substantial noise about the subject that a few of them make on selected internet discussion forums, most people within the aikido world could care less about it. They love the aikido they are already doing - and why not? In particular, aikido seems to offer to many, particularly in the West, an almost mythic resolution of problems with a clear winner and loser where an attacker is elegantly, and ideally harmlessly, subdued. We all crave a golden line through chaos.[ix] That the real world often does not work that way, particularly when it concerns physical conflict among those roughly equal in strength drives people in two directions. The Aristotelians may turn to more apparently practical martial arts such as muay thai or mixed martial arts, whereas the Platonists simply believe they need to practice more hours at the aikido they are doing, until they achieve the archetype of the art.[x] The idea of conflict resolution is one of the core underpinnings of East-Asian martial arts. Many martial traditions, developed many centuries before aikido, have stories about a teacher elegantly subduing an attacker with a writing brush, a twig or a turn of the wrist. Although not strictly true from an etymological perspective, it is commonly believed that the meaning of radicals within the Japanese character, 武 ("bu") is "to stop the spear." There are even debates on whether that means "self-defense" (having the ability to stop the enemy's spear) or "forbearance" (have the skill to make the use of the spear unnecessary, and the self-control to make that choice). It is legitimate, therefore, to ask how well the pedagogy of aikido, be it that of Ueshiba Morihei, or the versions of his successors, supports that goal. One cannot "stop a spear," unless one is more skillful than the attacker wielding it. Beyond that, the means deemed legitimate to resolve conflict are not apart from the social context within which they reside. Therefore, if we consider conflict resolution for people in any modern civil society, what would be the most effective and useful martial art: 1) An apparently chaotic amalgam of neo-Shinto, esoteric Buddhism and shamanistic rites, with a complex and detailed technical corpus as well as sophisticated training methods that may take years of dedication to master, all of which is taught within a closed dojo environment to only a few individuals with whom the instructor has a deep personal relationship; or 2) A martial practice that eschews the spiritual rituals for a more general metaphoric stance based on ethics, with a less demanding system of physical culture/martial arts practice, accessible to millions, a practice in which one can achieve a fairly high level of skill with only a few years? Which really fulfills the goal of 武 in the world within which we live?[xi] At the end of Hidden in Plain Sight, I wrote: Do you need this vintage? It makes life harder, because remember, you have to pay for it in time, miles of hard work, and honesty. Remember Chen Xiaowang, who abandoned the construction of his family's house, because it cut into the hours he needed to practice his t'ai chi ch'uan. Is the "technical" aikido, for example, of the descendents of Ueshiba, and similarly, I believe, the Daito-ryu of many of the descendents of Takeda, not a worthy pursuit in itself? It certainly can be. As I sit writing this, I am watching a play of light in my room, the sun passing through glass vases and crystal, part of my own lineage, from my grandmother, through my mother to me. Just as this glass is beautiful in its own right, so too, a pursuit of technical genius, of athleticism, of the numerous positive changes of personality that one incurs in the dedicated pursuit of any discipline in the company of like-minded comrades—all of this is possible through what aikido has become. And yes, that includes substantial martial virtue as well, as such exemplars as Nishio Shoji, Takeno Takefumi, Kato Hiroshi, and Anno Motomichi amply demonstrate. There is a rich lifetime of knowledge within what each of these men—and others like them—have to teach.Can "Aiki" be Restored to Aikido? Aikidoka who decide to pursue the study of internal training find themselves at a crossroads: How can one learn Ueshiba's skills when he left at best the most obscure of hints? And even if given the opportunity to actually learn such skills, where does that leave the aikido they have, up to now, practiced?
Aside from the debate about who designed what portion of pre-war or post-war aikido, would there be any downside to imbuing aikido, once again, with a resurrection of Ueshiba's methods, if that is even possible or a "reconstitution" using methods derived from other sources? Some claim that if one develops aiki, one will become "unthrowable" by normal aikido techniques, which would, it is suggested, make aikido techniques irrelevant. As the complaint goes, why practice it if it no longer works, and furthermore, the techniques are not very combatively practical, anyway? There is no doubt that if one has developed some significant skills in aiki, then the typical blending techniques of aikido, as generally practiced, will simply not work. Please refer to the film of Wang Shu Chin and Sato Kimbei that is linked at the beginning of this article. Of course, the difference in size between the two men makes this, perhaps, not the best example. Nonetheless, note what Wang does with his body (his legs, his hips, and most important, his tanden and spine) when Sato attempts to throw him: this is not just a matter of him being heavy. As John Driscoll, an aikido sandan and judo rokudan, wrote to me, "Sato never creates a relative state of disequilibrium (kuzushi) with respect to Wang. Sato attempts techniques on Wang who is static and standing in perfect balance, a nearly impossible task even when individuals are of equal size."[xviii] Recall the statement about Nango Jiro, Kano Jigoro's nephew, then elderly and perhaps 130 pounds, (who, by the way, never rose above nidan in standard judo), in Harrison's The Fighting Spirit of Japan: "Nango was hard to throw normally because of excellent tai-sabaki (turning movement in judo), but when he utilized the power of the tanden he was impossible to throw."[xix] Can modern-day aikido, with an exchange between uke and nage resulting in uke being thrown, locked or pinned, co-exist with a detailed study of aiki? I believe that the answer is absolutely in the affirmative, and the best evidence comes both from without and within aikido. My first example is, paradoxically, from outside aikido: the dojo of Sagawa Yukiyoshi. Based on conversations with three individuals, who either participated in or directly observed Sagawa Dojo practice, there were three components to training in his martial art: the first is solo practice (tanren); the second was training in techniques that would look much like aikido to the outside observer, a component of which was that uke would grab nage as powerfully as possible to thwart his ability to move, much less exert a technique, and the third is falling techniques: ukemi.[xx] This final component, more than the other two, may be a little confusing to some. There is, of course, the necessity to learn to take falls either when engaging in cooperative practice, or when a superior, more powerful training partner applies a technique.[xxi] However, Sagawa made such a point of mentioning it when Matsuda Ryuichi asked him how one develops aiki, clearly referring at that point to hitting the ground hard when thrown, that there may be more than meets the eye, yet another phenomenon of "hidden in plain sight."[xxii] It is my belief (and experience) that the impact of ukemi helps develop a strong and resilient body, as well as being an excellent method of teaching whole-body relaxation. What I would suggest is that this be harmonized with specific methods of breathing to "pressurize" the body from the inside out so that ukemi, like many other training exercises, will serve to develop the ligaments and connective tissue. Remember: "ukemi" means "receiving body." What do you have the ability to receive - just a choreographed fall? When one learns how to take falls when honestly thrown, one begins to learn how to counter those throws as well. How about the ability to absorb or redirect a forceful blow or other impact, or a joint lock or attempt at a throw? How about the ability to redirect that impact within oneself so that not only are you not harmed, you can use the opponents force as an additive to your own trained power, so that their power is truly used against them. Where, within aikido, do we hear of a similar training method than these three components named above, albeit in somewhat cruder form? At Iwama, under the tutelage of Saito Morihiro! Please note I am not asserting that practice at Iwama was the same as that at the Sagawa dojo. I am attempting here to highlight a similarity, not an identical practice. Let's start with this: When Saito and his students presented basic technique in a powerful manner, Saito described Ueshiba as smiling and nodding, rather than yelling out, "That's not my aikido." Ueshiba approved of that staunch, powerful method of training. This, however, is not all that Saito could do. He is often regarded as being slow, massive and powerful: however, one of Chiba Kazuo's students, a very physically powerful man, described grabbing Saito and told me, "It wasn't what I expected at all. I felt like I was on ice. I couldn't find my footing. I was just holding him, and he was hardly moving and I was slipping and sliding around." John Driscoll (cited above) wrote to me, "Saito always emphasized that the progression of instruction should move from katai (hard), initiated from static, basic, firm techniques, to yawarakai (soft), techniques affected in movement conforming to the basic form, and finally ki-no-nagare (free flowing techniques). Saito said this was Ueshiba's position on the progression of training in Aikido and was the only way one could develop martial power."[xxiii] My training brother, Josh Lerner, who spent some time training at Iwama and later with a teacher of t'ai chi and bagua, informed me, "When I started training in Chinese martial arts, although I had way too much tension in my upper body, I was able to start using rudimentary ground paths (although that's not the term he used) when working with his students, and I had the very distinct feeling that I got that ability specifically from doing tai no henko and morotedori kokyu ho with full resistance at Iwama. Along with tanren suburi on the tire, they form what I would call Saito's basic "internal power" exercises, and done correctly and consistently, they do produce results. Somewhat stiff results, with none of the subtlety or dantian movement of the Chinese arts, but the basic ability to absorb and transmit force is there. And I would say that morotedori kokyu ho is a full body twisting spiral, from foot to widespread fingers, that even differentiates the hips and waist."[xxiv] John Driscoll writes: Based on conversations with Bill Witt, Bernice Tom, Hans Goto, Wolfgang Baumgartner, Mark Larsen, etc., who all spent considerable time training under Saito:I would be among the first to assert that Saito's successors did not and do not exhibit any ability -- or interest -- in training in aiki. It is very possible that such "strong" training, given that it makes physically powerful people, became an end in itself.[xxvi] It is certainly possible that Saito, like so many others in this field, kept internal training methods to himself, but I think it is more likely that Saito was, in large part, an example of what I have termed "osmosis": that, given sufficient intense and intimate interactions with an expert, one can unconsciously steal some degree of the skill, without really knowing what one has accomplished, or at least, how one accomplished it. A product of such osmosis would surely reply, when asked how to replicate the remarkable things he can do, "More practice," which results in the skills passing onwards in increasingly attenuated fashion to subsequent generations.[xxvii] Without a curriculum, transmission is almost impossible. My intention in the paragraphs above is not to suggest that one replicate an imaginary version of how the Sagawa dojo may practice, nor is it that "The answer lies in Iwama." Instead, I am attempting to emphasize that the "answer" lies in a return to the true meaning of uke and nage. Remember that in traditional martial studies, uke was the teacher and his or her actions elicited, no, required the development of nage (or tori, to use a more traditional term). Please recall my citation of Sunadomari Kanshu, on kasudori. In practice, there is a tendency to perform these techniques (ikkajo, nikkajo, etc.) with both uke and nage using physical strength. However, it is best to practice these techniques letting go of physical power and with the intended purpose of softening the joints. When taking ukemi for basic technique as well, you should not fight your partner but rather perform ukemi with the feeling of leading him (emphasis by this writer). Uke should not take ukemi because he is being pushed or forced, instead uke should do so by first inviting and leading. When taking ukemi, if you entrust yourself completely to the movement of your partner, even the slightest bit of unnatural use of physical strength on the part of nage part will effectively send him flying instead.[xxviii]Sunadomari's description seems to be describing the ultimate in relaxation on both individuals' part -- and this is always what I experienced when training with members of his Manseikan, a soft, frankly very collusive practice. My experiences with those skilled in internal strength are different (though not all the same): sometimes it is as if one has grabbed hold of someone who is like fluid steel; sometimes it is like grappling with an anaconda; and with other people, it is like grabbing at a ghost: but it is never a mutual practice of limp, relaxed bodies. And therefore, I must note that a senior student of Sunadomari wrote to me after the initial version of this article was published, agreeing with me regarding my experience of many of Sunadomari's disciples, but stating that in his experience, Sunadomari, himself, had a quality that encompassed both the "ghostlike" and that of "fluid steel." Consider this passage of my own on kasudori: Use the aikido techniques that are applied to you to open and strengthen your joints. This requires that you have partners who are not out to damage you or rip through any resistance or adhesions, but slowly stretch each and every joint. Imagine your body sheathed in diaphanous membranes of connective tissue, intersecting planes of fascia and tendon. This is true, so it shouldn't be a difficult task. Aikido techniques, properly done, should soften and yet thicken and strengthen this tissue. Your task is to make it hydrated, flexible, and resilient.[xxix]Let us add one more component: nage. If uke trains in the spirit of koryu, providing the information through his or her movement to make nage stronger, then the powerful grab that I described earlier in regards to the Sagawa and Iwama dojos should not merely be a lock-down of muscle. One is not "soft," in the usual sense; rather, one uses a kind of relaxation that allows one to be "connected," using one's entire body as a single integrated, flexible unit, no matter what position or posture one may be in. A skillful uke should use his/her own body to gauge if the incoming feedback of nage is on point or not -- within the aiki paradigm. As they become stronger, uke can add grabbing/pushing/pulling etc. with aiki in ever-increasing increments -- and of course, within the paradigm of aikido practice, these roles are soon reversed. Considering the slow process with which aiki tends to develop, such practice will take a lot of time, consideration and patience on both ends of the practice spectrum. Both uke and nage therefore, must also fight against the desire to establish that decisive, unambiguous "victory" that is inherent within conventional aikido practice.[xxx] A second level of practice concerns kaeshiwaza: counters. Whenever nage is off-center, tense, using too much muscular power, uke should counter nage. Whenever uke tries to block nage's movement, anticipating nage's technique, nage should flow into another technique. At first, this is done through being aware when your training partner is physically off-center. As one gets more skilled, you will be aware when the person is "internally off-center:" their body may be in the right position, but they are physically not in a state of aiki. Atemi can also be added. As I have described elsewhere,[xxxi] proper aikido atemi should be deliverable at any point within an aikido waza. Most simplistically, a proper atemi slides along a limb, but more completely, you should be able to hit them with a connected body, so that the force is transmitted from the ground up through your frame, transmitting all your body weight most efficiently, without a wind-up or any separation from their body at all. You will have to be careful as your power increases: if you practice assiduously enough, you will be able to cause substantial damage to your training partner, even though your blow starts with you already touching them. Were one training in this fashion, is there any reason for uke to fall? Why not? One sometimes falls because one is thrown! This will happen when a properly trained sempai is working with a junior, and here, the sky's the limit. As the senior becomes better, he or she can handle even stronger, better-trained juniors, be they trained athletes or those becoming somewhat skilled with aiki. In addition, one also falls when one doesn't "have to," because one is doing aikido! In this case, one provides ukemi, functioning at the limits of nage's skill, challenging them at that point to the limits of one's own balance, and then "letting go," accepting the fall for several reasons:
Proper aikido training would entail a powerful grasp by uke (with "aiki") within which nage expresses the appropriate technique to redirect uke's force within himself or herself rather than merely away. In other words, "there is no such thing as tenkan . . . without irimi."[xxxii] Any deviation from integrity should result in uke countering nage: in other words, uke becomes nage, and the practice continues. Such a change in how aikido is done on a physical level, can result in a change on the moral level: rather than the archetypal meeting in which nage receives and subdues the errant action (the attack) of uke, there develops a more fluid exchange of roles between uke and nage. What makes this a training device rather than freestyle is that one is required to a) hew to the aikido form and the principles of internal training. In other words, aikido as a moral relativism, determined by circumstances, rather than moral absolutism, determined by role.[xxxiii] How can one possibly practice such a method of training within an ordinary aikido dojo? Given that, as I suggest, that there are far less than 500 aikidoka seriously studying internal strength, scattered in various parts of the globe, most of your training partners will not be able to grab, move or even stand with aiki, and as I've said above, have no interest in doing so. Most of them never will. Even amongst those who do express some interest, most will pay no more than lip service once they are aware how much boring, repetitive practice is required before they achieve any level of skill. In the future, as in the present, there will be far more who "know about" than truly know. Of course, one alternative is to start your own "ryu" of aikido, or at least your own dojo or training group. This will require an active link to someone with genuine skills, and who, in addition, respects and admires aikido itself. Were this possible, your problems are solved, because you will be able to engage in an unambiguous study of aiki, without resistance or interference from those who have no interest, or in particular, a teacher who has no interest. Remember, aside from the teacher having the right to establish the method of training in the dojo, he or she, with years of experience, may be able to suppress or even crush your nascent abilities in using aiki, even with no such skills themselves. However, what if you are only able to find one or two training partner(s), and your contact with a teacher of internal strength (generally) or even aiki (specifically) is quite limited? If you wish to practice within the aikido paradigm, you will have to train at ordinary dojo, where few, if any care about what you are doing, may deny it, even when they experience such power at your hands, or may become positively offended, uttering that most powerful of curses, "That's not aikido!" (A statement, I suggest, that is a little different from Osensei storming into the dojo and yelling, "That's not MY aikido."). The truth is, were one to become well-trained in this manner, one could easily -- and respectfully -- enter any aikido dojo on the planet, and never even reveal -- unless you chose -- that you could stop the other person's technique (as one friend teases me, "Aiki Superman, eh? Replicating Ueshiba's Aiki-Avatar role!!"). Even so, you could train with them, without disturbing practice -- unless you chose -- and yet further enhance your ability at aiki, because taking good ukemi via receiving and fitting in appropriately can be a fantastic training for aiki.[xxxiv] Remember my quotation of Ueshiba Morihei from 1921: "Aiki is a means of achieving harmony with another person so that you can make them do what you want." What a marvelous practice of aiki, therefore, that I have just proposed! You will be training in ostensibly classic aikido, and your training partners will be helping you develop your aiki skills, all the while unawares. You will be part of the community and yet beyond it. There may be something lonely about this, perhaps like an opera singer who can never sing arias outside his or her own home, because his country music loving neighbors think he sounds like a dying cat - or, on the other hand, a wonderful singer of country music in an Italian neighborhood. But this loneliness is, frankly, part of the dues you've got to pay if you choose to remain within the aikido community and do so tactfully as well. Until you have developed truly superlative skills in aiki, you will have nothing to brag about anyway. Why be a missionary for something you cannot manifest? At your own dojo, or with those one for two training partners, you will be able take your training to further and further limits, practicing, if you will, a version of pre-war/post-war aikido: the best of both worlds. It is quite possible at some future date, you will step out on your own, leaving behind an aikido that is no longer part of your world. I expect that there will then be a more extensive community, however small, waiting. But if you desire it to be an aikido community, treat all who are part of the aikido legacy, and all who chose to participate within it, with respect while you do your homework.[xxxv] [i] Hisa, Takuma, Originally published in Shin Budo, November, 1942, The entire article can be read on the Aikido Journal website at http://members.aikidojournal.com/enc...ryu-aiki-budo/Ellis Amdur is a licensed instructor (shihan) in two koryu: Araki-ryu Torite Kogusoku and Toda-ha Buko-ryu Naginatajutsu. His martial arts career is approximately forty years -- in addition to koryu, he has trained in a number of other combative arts, including muay thai, judo, xingyi and aikido. A recognized expert in classical and modern Japanese martial traditions, he has authored three books and one instructional DVD on this subject. The most recent is his just released Hidden in Plain Sight: Tracing the Roots of Ueshiba Morihei's Power. Information regarding his publications on martial arts, as well as other books on crisis intervention can be accessed at his website: www.edgework.info |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Bloody amazing column, quite frankly. Provided me with plenty of food for thought and enough further reading for a month.
|
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Quote:
|
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Amazing work, Amdur Shihan! I could read this essay every day for a year and still get new insights. My sincerest thanks for taking the time to organize and share this with the Aikido community!
|
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Going into virtually any aikido dojo on the planet would be fine for getting in good aiki practice as nage... no one would be the wiser when you apply aiki to your waza. They'd just think that your aikido is fabulous, perhaps mysteriously so. On the other hand, I'm not sure that taking lots and lots of hard ukemi in such a setting would serve as a necessary prerequisite to learning aiki (there are other, less bitter-eating ways); but, taking ukemi of any kind, copiously, from someone who has aiki could offer some opportunities. In taking ukemi for someone who is aiki adept, an intuitively astute student can "steal" ... by feel ... what nage is doing internally. The more ukemi, the more opportunities to cop that feel, so to speak, and make it one's own.
In the absence of a direct and succinct teaching syllabus or terminology to help the student parse out and work the different core movements and processes to develop the skills, person-to-person transmission through feel seems to have a very long tradition in the Asian internal arts. That may be why certain internal-skills adepts did not like to use the same uke for more than one technique, or to repeat techniques on any one uke, if they had no intentions of teaching the skills to him or her. And, why such teachers would take ukemi from students they did want to teach, to feel whether the students were doing things correctly or not. |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Quote:
In those days we just talked about him as a special case - Yamaguchi just HAD those skills, and we were a different kind of mortal, with no chance of picking them up. Since then I have had this experience from more people: mainly Kanetsuka Sensei, Yamashima Sensei, Ikeda Sensei, Endo Sensei, and I am starting to get a clue of what is happening, even if these teachers aren't all necessarily very good at explaining what they are doing, nor how we might learn to be able to copy them. I have had several rather seminal experiences from Kanetsuka Sensei (the only one I practise with regularly) when I have quite definitely felt something that was extraordinary, but which I could start to work on. I think this is the real meaning of direct one-to-one transmission, since these things are very hard to get across in a class teaching situation. Alex |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Quote:
1. Taking hard ukemi, as Sagawa suggests (and something that would be, allegedly, unavoidable in his dojo against his or his leading students' expertise, anyway), becomes a conditioning exercise, I believe 2. Taking ukemi is also a training exercise - "receiving body" - and depending on one's level of skill, one could train to the edge of nage's ability and "take" the fall, or counter them (uke becomes nage) - this would be the HIPS aiki training that one could, conceivably, carry out within any aikido dojo. Best Ellis Amdur |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Quote:
Quote:
|
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Berhn - What I'm saying is something different. Proper ukemi requires the proper use of breath, relaxation and the like. These are skills that are inherent in developing the aiki body. So quite apart from the "osmosis effect" - my term for absorbing, unconsciously, some of the skills through contact with the teacher, and consciously "stealing the technique," there is another level of basic physical culture, which Sagawa used - suburi, sumo stomps, etc. On that level, ukemi can be a component.
Ellis Amdur |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Thank you, now I see, where you come from.
I have to agree. |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
And Bernd, my apologies for making a mistake on your name.
Ellis Amdur |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
I'm doing a lot of traveling these days, and visiting a lot of dojos. I'm also trying to reinforce my IS practice by bringing it consciously to the dojo. So I'm practicing a bunch of what Ellis is preaching right now.
It's not all beer and skittles. Most people in most dojos simply aren't that well connected (Sturgeon's Law applies). So when I'm being thrown by their poorly-connected body, it's what He Who Must Not Be Named calls a bag of hammers--it's less like smoothly giving way and more like trying to stay out of their way, or trying to lead them if they're junior. But actually taking the throw without losing the 6-directions expansion is kinda fun. Being nage has its own set of problems. The errors I make while working the IS principles are different from the errors I make while just doing my habitual aikido. It's easy to blend--less easy to be soft while opening, keeping 6 directions, making sure hands and feet are connected to hara, and all the rest of the malarkey. In my own dojo I know what to expect from everybody--when I'm visiting, I don't know if I'm going to be hit with a bag of hammers, a bulldozer, or a noodle, and I have to be prepared for any of them without losing focus or tensing up. So it's good practice, I think, and it's forcing me to address challenges in actually making the IS stuff work. |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
One comment:
:D |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
I must have taken the initial premise wrong. I do think that once a person is learning aiki and IS, that taking ukemi is a great test of holding and testing those core elements. My perhaps mistaken impression and intepretation was that taking ukemi should/could be a precurser to learning aiki and IS -- which, in the absence of any fundamental exercises one should be practicing while taking that ukemi, could lead to other results and habits that may in fact be detrimental to learning IS and aiki.
|
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Cady, well, it is an interesting riddle. As I noted, some may choose to quit aikido or never start aikido. Some may view training in IS and aiki as an inherently superior activity and anything else must be subsumed to it.
But what I pose is the question what if aikido is, to someone, far more: anything from a wonderful exercise to embodied crisis intervention on a physical metaphoric level to a spiritual practice to . . . and they wish to integrate their aiki/IS training within whatever methodology their aikido offers (or their teacher offers) - without doing violence to the dojo/style they are training, while enhancing their own skills. That poses a number of dilemma, one of which you note. Another question arises in pure IS/aiki training apart from a specific martial art (which carries culture, tradition, an ethos, etc.). Some would claim - and it's right for them - that they have no interest in any of that, or even, that it gets in the way. But what if a certain martial art is essential to someone, and they are willing, even, to take a longer, even incomplete road towards IS because of their loyalty to their martial arts practice, if that is, in fact, unavoidable. I'm aware of koryu that have some level of IS training (often rather attenuated in this era). But should they practitioners abandon every aspect of the ryu that is not IS training? The question becomes more pointed if it can be correctly asserted that their particular methodology is a limited subset of the possibilities of IS training, that in some respects, their ryu gets in the way of 100% comprehensive IS skills. The counter to that may be that they have integrated specifically and only the technology from IS to accomplish what the ryu is geared to accomplish. So, back to what I believe is your initial point - it is certainly conceivable to me that some aspects of aikido training, as it is structured - - - - as it's always been structured - may get in the way of IS/aiki training. Maybe not, maybe so. It'll be interesting to see what people come up with. Oh, and by the way. Some years ago, on more or less, an intuitive basis, I started structuring aikido along what I referred to as five themes (kyoku), using five vectors from ikkyo to gokyo. There is a phenomenal series entitled KAJO, that takes this far further and with more rigor. The writer, proves, I believe, what I've long asserted - that Osensei consciously selected specific techniques from the larger corpus of Daito-ryu for specific training purposes. This essay takes into account Roppo (six directions) - and, in my view, establishes that the particular techniques (including kokyunage/iriminage from the 1930's - a reference to a discussion on Kobayashi sensei's reminiscences) were structures as a comprehensive "container" for IS training, as Ueshiba viewed it. Ellis Amdur |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Hugh:
Nice to see Sturgeon's Law recognized.................... |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Quote:
In fact, you gave me a warm reception. Quote:
The same author, if I remember rightly, seems to be very critical in view of shisei by Ueshiba Kishommaru as compared to shisei by Ueshiba Morihei. Bernd |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Quote:
My initial reaction is that one would have to stick to the non-contact IS conditioning drills such as those you've cited (shiko, suburi) and also taking ukemi (without starting any "funny business"), though some of these things might require some skillful outward adaptation to make them conform visually to the dojo's version. But sure, there are lots of ways to do "double-entendre" training. Holding structure while standing, practicing internal absorbing and projecting, and splitting of force with the tanden and meimon while in seiza listening to Sensei or standing while awaiting one's turn at a drill, as long as you are not touching someone, are all ways a person can train unnoticed. With the exception of taking ukemi (although one can throw himself around, I suppose), all of the other things are solo training practices which can be done anywhere, alone. I don't see any issue there. The real challenge is in how to incorporate surreptitious aiki practice that involves sustained body contact with another person. Even making subtle applications during partner waza, on a regular basis, will eventually "out" the practitioner. Everyone starts to wonder why and how that 2nd-kyu can do things the san-dans can't...Trust me, this can happen very easily with, for example, kokyu nage. An aiki-conditioned body causes a person to be and to do something that clearly feels "different" to other aikidoka, even when he is observably doing "exactly" what everyone else is doing and following all of the training protocols to the letter. Even someone who is in the early stages of internal body conditioning will feel different -- though for another reason...because he does not yet have refined control, and his movements will be obvious and foreign-feeling to a partner. So, in my opinion, there are limits to what one can do in one's home art and dojo. For the partner-training, it may be best to get an outside training partner or two, or perhaps an inside confidante at the dojo who will pair up and train during open mat hours. In the latter situation, two people practicing drills such as kokyu-nage and tenchi-nage can look perfectly "normal" to bystanders. ;) Quote:
Regarding the skillset itself, I don't believe that a person must embrace the entire corpus of internal training (though there are certain fundamentals that can't be ignored or avoided). In my opinion, he can cherry-pick what he is able to apply to his art without conflict... as long as he has learned enough to make an educated selection of what can be kept and what can be discarded without pulling a keystone out of his foundation. Quote:
For the rest of the world, aikido and otherwise, if someone truly loves and is dedicated to practicing and perpetuating a particular art, but also recognizes and desires the benefits of certain skills that are not part of that art's body of training, the obvious fact is that he will have to find some way of blending the compatible aspects and reconciling the differences, or else keep them as separate disciplines. It's okay to "know stuff" but not "use stuff" in order to continue practicing an art and staying true to it, in my opinion. Though, I can't imagine how someone with a very aiki-conditioned body can do or be anything but an aiki-conditioned body, 24/7 and 365 plus Leap Year. There are some guys I just can't picture being able to switch it off anymore. Maybe there gets to be a point where you really can't go home again. Quote:
Quote:
Thanks for the brain food, Cady |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
I have moved the discussion on kanji, 「武」, and memes to a separate thread:
http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/showthread.php?t=22230 -- Jun |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Amdur san, my own view on the matter of aikido and "internal power" was summed up by you some time ago when you wrote: "there are hard internal arts, and soft external arts". Hence internal and soft are often, erroniously, conflated. In my experience, the matter is further complicated by the fact that the word "internal" is often used equivocally even by those with some experience in it.
Just as the internal is rather degraded by injudicious applications of muscle, so too is the external degraded by trying to make it something it is not. My own opinon is that aikido is not, (and here I admit the epistemological problem since I have not always been around) and never was an internal martial art. Or, perhaps better put, no aikido I have ever experienced has ever had elements of the internal in it. I have observed some very soft and exquisite aikido, but in my opinion the internal can be quantified, taught, and felt, and again, no aikido I have ever felt exemplifies it. Now that is not to say that some teachers, with input from other arts, are not importing it into their own practice. Some most assuredly are making this attempt.But I think aikido is best served, and at its best, when it is treated like what it is, a rather sophisticated and effortless method of bone locking and throwing. In my opinion, this excellence is not achieved by "internal methods" but rather by very excellent external ones. Many martial artists seem to have made the implicit value judgement (without understanding the terms) that somehow the internal is "better" than the external, and I know of no tradition which maintains this. It is, I think, more to the point to think of them as different technologies. One large difference (and there are several) between the two technologies is that the internal is initially learned by learning body shapes. When I once asked you about internal elements in your own weapons practice you replied something to the effect that: "I don't know if the internal is part of it, or it is just a perfect RECEPTACLE for it, but the TBR seems to be an excellent vehicle for the internal." I would make the same claim for the TSKSR (at least for the Sugawara ha) The shapes in older weapons work seem to suggest to the body the type of organization which can produce one of the sine qua non of the internal - the distribution of labor between that which connects and that which does the work. Or, as my own teacher says constantly, "Don't fight where there's trouble." It is a distinction between disparate elements within the system. A lack of "double weightedness" is another term for it. This does not even remotely imply to simply "go with the flow". It is much more complex. In any case, it seems to be the older styles of weapons work that have this type of body organization implicitly, whereas the big Chinese three have it rather explicitly. These shapes are most definately NOT in post-war aikido and hence virtually all aikidoka are, regardless of how softly they do it, "fighting where the trouble is". (Of course, as you point out, much, if not most, of what now passes for "internal martial art training" may in fact be a horse of a different color. There needs to be a good teacher, a good system, and a good student for all of this to gel.) IF Ueshiba had internal power, and I have no idea if he did or not, I would posit that he got it via his weapons work, and I would also posit that the reason none of his students (that I have worked with) have it is that their weapons work is derivative and rather shapeless. This is NOT to say that their technique is not exquisite, just that it is a different technology. So as to the question as to whether or not the internal can be brought back into aikido, I would suggest it never really was there in the first place. To try to bring it back will degrade aikido from a very excellent soft external art, into the sort of hodgepodge of parlor tricks that much of what goes under the banner of "aiki weapons" has become. |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Quote:
Just out of interest, have you taken ukemi from either Seigo Yamaguchi or Gozo Shioda? I didn't meet the latter, but I did have experience receiving Yamaguchi Sensei and what I felt from him I would classify according to my current understanding as "internal" power. One illustration of this is that when he applied nikyo to me I didn't feel at all what I expected: I felt a surge of something (let's call it "power") and lost all my strength. No-one else has given me this feeling. I have heard first-hand accounts of Shioda Sensei which suggest that his aikido too had this effect. Perhaps we simply disagree on what is "internal" and what is "external". What I do agree with is what you say about "body organisation". No aikido teacher I have come across has ever taught this explicitly, and any skill I have in this comes from my yoga training. Many aikido teachers talk about "correct" posture, and some (including Hiroshi Ikeda and my own teacher, Minoru Kanetsuka) have certainly practised and demonstrated postural exercises that I understand to be aimed at developing internal structural organisation, but none has in my experience taught these coherently, explaining what their purposes and effects are. Nor have I seen an aikido teacher talk about the "frame" or the function of skeletal alignment. Alex |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Quote:
|
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Internal elements in aikido or other modern budo is not widely taught because it takes a long time to create a body which can perform movements with internal elements and most of the aikido population can only invest a small time in their training Of course there are exceptions. Finding a valuable explanation about internal elements is not an easy task.
Find here a text about Monjuro Morita, a kendoka who discovered internal elements in his training when he was in his late fifties. His experiences can also be used by aikidoka or other martial art people. I talked myself to hit with the whole body, but I did not know the true meaning of this teaching. I used to give a theoretical explanation based on the logic of the lever, the subtlety of the use of centrifugal force, moving the center of gravity or the application of the law of inertia. But hitting with the body is not explainable with these simple logic. I understood that there is something far more fundamental. This is a use of the pelvis (koshi) by which all kinds of strikes are possible. (The term "koshi" is usually translated as either "kidneys" or by "hip", or by "pelvis", but these translations are approximates. Monjuro Morita said, the koshi is an area in the lower back, opposite the tanden located in the lower abdomen). The tanden and the koshi, located on either side of the body, form one set in practice. Each muscle use of koshi is transmitted to the tanden by stimulating pressure, which activates positively different parts of nervous systems. Tanden and the musculature of the koshi form a unity, but their roles are not the same. The tanden controls the koshi. The training of koshi is synonymous with the training of the tanden, center of the body, and thus it becomes a training of body and mind ... We can say the training of each technique strengthen the muscles of the koshi and the tanden. Which has almost the same effect as to strengthen the tanden practicing zazen. If the practice of kendo remains at a mere technical manipulation, the effect can not be the same. By producing the art of the koshi and tanden, we can strengthen our mind and body. Since ancient times, Japanese have insisted, in the various martial arts, on strengthening the tanden, because they believed that the strength of tanden makes it possible to concentrate his mind and producing a great power and invincible courage. Just some thoughts, Eddy |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Quote:
I am also good friends with your teacher and we have had a similar discussions. Bill seems less offended by them than yourself. But again, thank you for the valediction. |
Re: A Consideration of Aikido Practice within the Context of Internal Training
Just a brief note. Bob has been my bagua instructor. I'm sure if he chooses, he'll write some of his thoughts on HIpS, but just in the interest
disclosure, we do have direct hands-on experience. |
All times are GMT -6. The time now is 07:42 PM. |
Powered by: vBulletin
Copyright ©2000 - 2024, Jelsoft Enterprises Ltd.
Column powered by GARS 2.1.5 ©2005-2006