July 2007


Well sort of.  I came back from the retreat exhausted, the balls of my feet achingly sore, and coughing and sneezing from a cold I seemed to have picked up some time during the weekend.   And of course, I come back to work with tons of stuff to do.  I haven’t had a moment to think about the retreat, much less write about it.

But write I will.  Just need a few more days to organize my thoughts.  Overall, it was a very good retreat.  Anno Sensei was in great form although you could tell he was exhausted toward the end.  What really amazed me was his enthusiasm through it all.  Even when he was bone tired, he kept telling us he didn’t want to end class, that he wanted to throw every one of us.  Even more impressive was the last day when he literally walked the circle and shaked everybody’s hand - I mean everybody!  Here’s an 8th dan, one who has trained for over 50 years, personally thanking every aikidoka in the room.  It is an indication of the kind of person he is.  To think that that was the last time he’d ever set foot in the United States made the whole scene even more poignant.

Besides the retreat, I also had an opportunity to train with my friends at my old dojo.  They are the ones who introduced me to Takeda Shihan’s aikido.  Lately, they have been working on some interesting stuff on how to separate your upper body from your lower body and how to activate your ki so that it all focuses onto one point.  Very very difficult and oh so fascinating …

That’s it for now until I have a bit more time. 

One of my sempais sent me this link:

http://www.aikidoofatlanta.com/Articles/Paper_ProperTestingEtiquette.shtml

I remember asking my Taekwondo instructor why he passed someone who obviously wasn’t ready for the rank for which he was testing.  My instructor always answered “i’m testing his potential, not where he’s at.”  The test is just a formality. 

It is that way at our dojo as well.  When Sensei tells you to test, it’s a done deal.  It doesn’t matter how you do on that day, you will get your rank (I have never seen anyone not get his/her rank).   All the pressure you feel is what you put upon yourself.  It’s good pressure since testing is a process that everyone must go through so you can push beyond your current level.  Still, it’s important to remember testing is more of a demonstration of where you are at the moment than a pass-or-fail situation. 

Something for me to keep in mind come October.

No blog posting while I’m gone at the retreat.  Not entirely sure how I’ll survive without internet access.  But then, I won’t have the time nor the energy to write anyways so no real loss.

I am definitely eager to leave Seattle though.  And none too soon since it will be in the 90s here.  Eek! 

So I was at basics class last night, playing with newbies.  I was working with this one guy who was stiff as hell.  Not his fault since he didn’t know any better.  It was interesting though in that he reacted very differently to certain touches.  For example, during an irimi-nage, my hand was on his shoulder, a little below his neck.  I settled with the intent of drawing him towards my center thus upsetting his balance.  But instead of falling towards me, he spun around, facing me.   This wasn’t a case of him trying to squirm out.  It was his natural reaction.  

Now, how much of his reaction is because of his lack of ukemi skill and how much of it is because I was tugging a bit harder than I needed to?   He was stiff after all.  I might have overcompensated muscle-wise to get him to move.  Hard to say.  Probably a little of both.  Still, it made me realize that I always have this image of how uke should move for a particular technique.   When uke doesn’t move the way I expect him to, I get surprised, frustrated, and maybe a little angry.  Just like the SUV that tailgates me.  I expect him to keep his distance.  When he doesn’t, I get pissed.

Expectations are bad in martial arts because in a potentially deadly situation, acting on what you think your opponent will do rather than on what he actually does can mean the difference between life and death.   It’s like those movie scenes in which the bad guy saids “oh crap!” right before being run over by a train or dismembered by the good guy who sneaked on him unexpectedly.  That split second of realization is all you’ll get before you’re toast.

It is especially hard in aikido I think because we train in such a cooperative environment.  As I have mentioned many times, it is often difficult to remember that we’re practicing a martial art, not a dance.  We are executing deadly techniques - tempered with compassion - but deadly nevertheless.  These are not dance routines to be memorized.  We should not expect our partners to react a certain way.  It might be alright if you’re performing ballet or modern dance.  Not ok on the mat.  And certainly not ok if you’re in a street situation.

Having said all that however, I think aikido, of all the martial arts, is the best in teaching its practitioners how to deal with the unexpected.  How do we deal with the inner demon that refuses to accept change?  Aikido teaches us to be in moment, to manage change by being flexible, and to accept change by being open-hearted.  Nothing illustrates this better than continuous kaeshi-waza (reversals practice).   Nage executes a technique on uke who then reverses the technique, becoming nage, who then reverses, etc.  In the few kaeshi-waza I’ve done, there is always that slight sense of panic that I might not be able to reverse a technique, that I’ll lose to nage.  Yes, lose because let’s face it, when we’re dealing with change, what we’re really dealing with is the lost of something - it may be money, position, power, or more often than not, the status quo.  It is a very powerful motivator that causes people to do the most irrational thing.  Being able to stay in the moment while change is happening is probably the most important and the most difficult lesson in aikido I think.

It is certainly something I have been working these many years.  Has aikido helped me deal with change better?  Definitely.  All I have to do is  look back at how I handle situations at work.  Five years ago, I typically reacted to change very negatively.  My attitude at work sucked.  It didn’t help that I hated my job.  Now, I’m working in an environment that is no less chaotic in terms of change.  Yet, I’m quite happy.  I don’t freak out when unexpected change occurs.  I may still grumble but nothing more than that.  What I’m still working on are changes that pushes one of my many buttons (like the bully button - can you say tailgating SUV?).  That’s requires a whole new level of commitment to staying in the moment.

You gotta love beginners.  How do you know if your aikido works?  Two ways: train with a senior aikidoka (who won’t let you get away with anything that doesn’t work) and train with a beginner (who also won’t let you get away with anything that doesn’t work). 

If you watch your Sensei or anyone who has been doing aikido for awhile, you’ll see that their waza works regardless of uke’s level.  I’m particularly amazed when uke is a beginner simply because he or she has no idea how to take ukemi.  No one can ever accuse them of being cooperative.  To be able to execute a technique on someone like that takes real skill.

A new introductory series has begun at our dojo.  As much as I can, I try to make it to basics class just so I can train with the newbies.  It’s somewhat masochistic on my part in that I want to see how crappy my waza really is.  Nothing bruises my ego more than to do an ikkyo on a beginner and have that beginner squirm out of it.  Yeah, yeah.  Laugh all you want.  I bet that’s happened to you too. 

As embarassing as it is, it is an invaluable learning experience.  Do I really understand the principles behind a technique?  That is the key I think.  If you understand the principles then it really doesn’t matter what level uke is.  It just works.  In many ways, beginners are like a barometer against which you can gauge your progress.  As I prepare for shodan, it will be one method by which I will judge my readiness.  Plus, if you mess up with a beginner, he’ll just look at you funny.  With a senior aikidoka, he’ll hit you harder the next time - and smile evilly while doing it.  heh.

It’ll be my second year at the retreat.  Anno Sensei, 8th Dan, from Aikido Kumano Juku (Shingu, Japan),  will be there.  It may be his last time in the United States due to his health.  If you haven’t seen him, try to make it down there.   Unlike past years, you can pay for and attend parts of the retreat.  You can find the schedule and pricing on http://www.aikidosantacruz.org/

I’m looking forward to it, not only to see Anno Sensei but also to train with different people other than those at my dojo or dojos in Seattle.  It might be just what I need to reinvigorate my training. 

Everyone say that iriminage is a 30 year technique.  That may be very true but I think ikkyo ranks up there as well.   I’ve been struggling with it quite a bit lately. 

On the surface, ikkyo seems like any other technique.  It seems fairly simple, much simpler than say kaiten-nage or koshi-nage.  Seems is the operative word here.  There appears to be a whole level complexity that goes beyond the basic one-two-three moves: (1) bring uke’s arm to center; (2) take uke’s center by stepping into third point; (3) extend uke and pin.

I once heard that O’Sensei always started class with suwari-waza ikkyo.  I’ve always wondered why.  Did he see something about ikkyo that he felt everyone should explore at the beginning of each class?  If so, what?  Then again, I also heard he woke up in the middle of the night to practice tai-no-henko.  Who knows what he was thinking.

My difficulty comes from being overwhelmed by uke while trying to bring his arm to my center.  Often times, I end up with uke wrapped around me.  Eek!  I figured out I had to move - more.  Like a lot more.  A few inches isn’t enough.  The movement has to be bigger.  That helped but I still get bowled over sometimes.  

Then someone told me I was late.  Really late.  Oh yeah.   Starting sooner is definitely a key.  Doing so allows me to take uke’s center right off the back.  The trick is not to be too forward when doing that.  Otherwise, you’ll find yourself leaning into uke or worse, pushing into uke. 

Oh and let’s not forget the arm.  Turning it while bringing it to your center is the bain of the technique for me.  Ugh!  I have seen it done so many ways - 1) placing hand underneath elbow and using it to rotate; or 2) placing hand near uke’s armpit and rotating while pushing toward his back (actually, along his ikkyo line); or 3) turning the arm while moving far off the line (which apparently works because uke is completely extended and can’t resist the arm turning); or 4) lightly touching uke’s arm, bringing it to your center while you settle into the ground.  There are probably more but these the ones I’ve seen.

What worked for you?

Each has worked for me to varying degrees.  By that, I mean not always and not for everyone!  heh.  Sigh.

There was a bit of breakthrough on Saturday though.  One of my sempais who trained quite a bit with Takeda Shihan in Japan told me that I was too fascinated with the ikkyo line.  What he means is that I spend too much time opened up while receiving uke’s attack.  I needed to clamp down sooner.  So I tried that.  But I end up pushing on uke’s arm.   He then told me to absorb the energy by letting it wash down my back.  Now, Sensei have told us many times to ground ourselves, letting the energy of the attack flow through our body, through our back heel, and into the earth.  I have tried that, again with varying degree of success (ok, with very little success).  But this time, the image of the energy washing down my back really made an impact on me.  Perhaps doing so took my focus off uke and his arm.  Perhaps that’s my problem - I’m too focused on uke and his attack.  Maybe. 

I will need to practice the “washing the energy down my back” a bit more.  I suspect there is no panacea to the ikkyo problem.  It is not like solving a math problem.  There isn’t one solution (we’re talking about pre-calculus math here :)  

But I am curious though: Has everyone experience frustration with ikkyo at one point or another during their aikido training?  Or is it simply me not understanding it at this point in my training (and thus making the problem bigger than it really is)?