jonreading

We kinda have a running joke in our dojo because we run into failure so often... to this topic I'll say two points:
1. Aikido is a perishable skill. There is a natural skill of expression based upon several organic factors of influence. This is different than an academic competency. Because of the number of organic variables, it is easy to solicit a false-positive response when training. Maybe your partner fell because you did it right, maybe your partner fell because she did it wrong.
2. Aikido is a progressive academic pursuit. There is a natural progression required to gain competency about how to move. The method of teaching that resonated with you many years previous has less academic impact now. The manner in which you learned tenkan on day 1 is a different lesson than the manner in which you refine tenkan now.

I sorta implied this in the advanced techniques thread, but for my training I advocate finding a solid foundation platform and base my training on that platform. I would also advocate that if your platform never changed, whatever you are doing it would not be increasing your academic understanding. It could be improving your proficiency based upon that platform.

This brings into question two things with which I consistently wrestle. The first is the validity of my education platform. The second is the methodology by which I evaluate my need to change my platform and move onto bigger, better things.

For example, is aikido a valid fighting art, or is it not? I have heard convincing arguments on both sides. For me, this is an important question because that foundational platform gives me a metric of success (or failure). If I choose to consider aikido an art of peace, then a metric of success may be determined by placing a mood ring on the finger of my opponent and assessing the color spectrum. Or, a metric of success may be inventoried by the number of cuddly teddy bears I distribute. Conversely, if I choose aikido to be an effective fighting art, I should easily be able to count the number of severed fingers I wear around my neck. Possibly, also the number of villages under my thrall.

Obviously, I make fun of our comparisons. But, I do this to illustrate the difference of "success" or "failure" between education platforms. When we first learned tenkan, the metric of failure was immobilization, right? I cannot turn and drag my partner around. Later, my metric of failure is using too much muscle. Training from a perspective of failure is different than training from a perspective of success.

Interestingly, we often train from a perspective of failure, but we often respond to challenges with a perspective of success...