November 2007


The folks at Aikido West threw a bash for Doran Sensei’s 75th birthday on November 17th.  The centerpiece was the Shugyo Shuffle performed by the women of Aikido West.  Apparently, it’s Sensei’s favorite song (anybody know the title?) but they updated it with aikido references.  It’s a hoot to watch people I’ve only known only in an aikido context doing something entirely non-aikido, and it’s funny to boot! Wish I was there …

Edit: I was just told the original song is Proud Mary by Credence Clearwater Revival.  Yeah, just a bit before my time :)   Also the aikido moves in the dance are supposed to be of Doran Sensei’s style. 

So I was at my friend’s house playing Rock Band on the XBox360 when I experienced an aiki moment. For those who’ve never played Rock Band, it’s a game in which up to four players take up pseudo musical instruments - a guitar, a bass, a drum set, and a microphone (ok, that’s not an instrument and in the hands of someone who can’t sing, it’s more like a torture device :) ) - and play them to renditions of popular songs. You do this by pressing the correct colored keys on your instrument at the right moment, matching them against the colored dots that scroll down the TV screen. It definitely takes coordination and some sense of rhythm, particularly if you’re playing the drums. And it really helps if you know the song.

Anyways, so here I was strumming the guitar, desperately trying to press the right buttons and groaning every time I missed one, especially during the solo part when I realized I was focusing way too much on the dots as it passed off the screen. I had a sudden image of being on the mat, trying to do a technique and looking at my hands the whole time. The hands are only a small part of the picture. I need to be looking at where I’m taking uke and listening to what uke is doing.

It’s no different with Rock Band. I started to pay more attention to the colored dots as they come down from the top of the screen. This allowed me to see what’s coming down the line and thus enabling me to adjust my fingers so that I can transition from one note to the other more easily. I still kept part of my attention on the bottom of the screen but it wasn’t my only focus. Not only that, I really tried to pay attention to the rhythm. So instead of following the dots and pressing the keys using my eyes, I also used my ears and my internal rhythm, timing the keypress to the beat of the song.

That worked out much better. But there were still occasions when I would miss the note entirely. And like randori, once you miss a note, it’s sometimes hard to get yourself back on the beat. When that happens, it helps to just pause, reset your internal rhythm and try again. It’s really interesting how we internally assume certain rhythm and expect everything to conform to it. This was especially apparent with songs that I knew. I expected it to go a certain way, pressing the key according to when I thought the note should be played but in actuality, the note played a half second later. Oops!

Aikido is the same way. We all move at our own speed, at our own rhythm. And subconsciously, we expect everyone to move at our speed. I sure did. When I first started aikido, I was all about being fast. And I expected everyone to move fast. But you can’t blend when there’s a difference in speed. Sometimes, you have to adjust your internal rhythm to that of uke. That’s not to say that there aren’t things you can do to speed up or or slow down uke. In fact, there are many things you can do. But first, it requires that you recognize that there is a difference. Like I did in Rock Band.

Anyways, just thought I share this observation with you. It definitely belongs to the How do you know if you’re obsessed with aikido? list. heh!

Not just from Doran Sensei but also from Mary Heiny Sensei later that day! Ok, forget what I said about how frustrated I am with my hakama. I now rank it as one of the important inventions since {name your most important invention here}.

Saturday was an amazing training day. In the morning, I headed to Aikido Academy in Redmond, WA for Doran Sensei’s seminar. Just a little background: I started at Aikido West in the Bay Area where Doran Sensei teaches, leaving for Seattle when I was a 3rd kyu. In the two years I trained there, I had very little interaction with Doran Sensei. Not unusual since he was a Shihan and I was a lowly blue belt. The only time we really talked was after my kyu exams. He always had nice things to say but that was about it. So you can imagine my surprise on Saturday when he called me up for ukemi! Now, keep in mind that he brought his own uke - a very good friend of mine BTW. So for him to call me up was very special. It could be because he noticed how Peter - that’s his uke- and I were throwing each other around quite vigorously during the break. He probably figure if Peter liked me, I must be ok. I don’t know. Whatever the reason, it was simply an amazing experience. Did I say amazing? Sorry :)

So what did his waza feel like? Words that come to mind: precision, clarity, deadliness with compassion. Doran Sensei is known for the first two qualities. His delivery was sharp and concise. Even though he’s talking about blending and seeing things from uke’s point of view, his tone was probably the same as the one he had used on Marines recruits back in the days when he was a jarhead. Do this or you will die. Ok, maybe not harsh like that. He was actually quite funny. But there is a definite sense of seriousness. At no time did you doubt that he was teaching a martial art. That no-nonsenseness carried into his waza. Taking ukemi from him was quite an experience. His lines were absolutely clear. It’s like going down a one-way street. No other way except his way. And perhaps because of this clarity, you get the feeling that he’s in complete control - so much so that you feel absolutely safe as he’s throwing you in the air, despite the fact that he could kill you in an instant. Yes, I know you hear that about other teachers. But Doran Sensei exudes an aura of quiet deadliness. You do not want to mess with him even though he’s nearing his eighth decade. He was after all an ex-Marine and a very skilled hand-to-hand combat instructor. He taught men to kill. It is this dichotomy that makes him so unique. On the one hand, he really can kill you with a flip of a switch. Yet, he chooses not to. That’s true deadliness with compassion.

The other thing I noticed about him was his posture. Ramrod straight even though he is in his mid-70s. It’s been nearly three years since I saw him and I swear he has not changed a bit appearance wise. I was told though it is harder for him to come up from seiza nowadays. But you sure didn’t see it on the mat.

I didn’t want to leave and thought seriously about staying for the afternoon class. But I wanted to see Mary Heiny Sensei at Emerald City. So I said goodbye to Doran Sensei. I’m not sure if he remembered me at all from three years back. Peter thinks he does but not my name. Doesn’t really matter. I’m not a name dropper. I just feel lucky I had a chance to soak up some of his knowledge.

You would think that going from Doran Sensei to Mary Heiny Sensei would be a bit jarring. It was and it wasn’t. Both are very much about preciseness. The big difference, of course, is the lines they draw. Doran Sensei’s lines are very sharp and distinct. Mary Sensei’s (as is typical I believe of aikidoka of the Shingu lineage) can be fairly big, somewhat intricate, and as such, not as easy to visualize. It can be a challenge ukemi wise, especially for beginners. With Doran Sensei, the path is very clearly marked and the road narrow. With Mary Sensei, the path is also marked but the road is wider with more curves. An inexperienced uke may think he has a lot of options. In reality of course, he doesn’t. But because he thinks he does, he can find himself having difficulty staying connected with nage. Which in turn puts him at risk, something he doesn’t realize until it’s too late.

It is almost as if Mary Sensei gives you guidelines on where to fall whereas Doran Sensei tells you exactly where to fall. Very interesting difference. Don’t get me wrong. Mary Sensei’s guidelines are not weak suggestions. For experienced aikidoka, they are often quite loud and clear. Move this way or else. But it takes some adjustment and sensitivity on the part of uke. I remember having the toughest time taking ukemi when I first started at my current dojo from Aikido West. Now, of course, it’s not as difficult.

As different as Doran Sensei and Mary Sensei are, both use the same principles in their waza. In fact, I was somewhat shocked when I heard the word spiral come out of Doran Sensei’s mouth. Hey! That’s what Mary Sensei talks about all the time!

This goes back to one of my earliest posts about how at the highest level, all aikido teachers use the same principles. They may interpret it differently. Their aikido may look very different. But at its very core, their waza works and it works consistently because they are based on very solid understanding of the basic principles. That is why Mary Sensei always insisted that Shodan is about the basics. Without it, you will never get any of the fancy stuff to work.

Anyways, Mary Sensei held a very fun class. You can tell her hip was bothering her but you really didn’t notice it much. I took ukemi from her couple times. Then there was the shodan exam. That was very memorable considering that halfway through the test, right before tanto dori, the power went out. We busted out candles and flashlights and continued with the demo. The testee did a really good job. It was half dark but he maintained the momentum he had before the lights went out. His randori was pretty good - and he didn’t run into anyone with a candle (especially yours truly)!

All in all, a very fun training day although I was very sore the next day. Yes, I trained the next day - kumitachi seminar with Sensei, Sunday afternoon class, then tai chi push-hands. I think I deserve a break today. What do you think?

So it’s been over two weeks since my demo.   I didn’t take a break from training.  No reason to.   I did take yesterday off because of work.   But for most part, I’ve been pretty consistent.

Is training after a shodan exam any different?  I wanna say it isn’t since I’m still the same person except that I now wear a hakama on the mat.

But it is different. 

First my waza. It seems more carefree.  Prior to the demo, everything was about the basics.  Good hamni, good posture, good connection, precise techniques.  Nothing fancy.  Now, it’s as if the straightjacket has been taken off.  I can go back to experimenting.  Which is fun and frustrating at the same time.

Take my randori, for example.  If you watch the demo video, you see that I stuck to three basic moves - 1) washing-machine throw, 2) go under uke, 3) arm up uke’s center line, 4) repeat with slight variations. 

My first randori after the test?  It was a mess!  OMG!  I thought I suddenly forgot how to do aikido and became a white belt again.  I was pedaling backward (a big no no in randori unless there’s energy moving forward at the same time), getting caught up with one uke, not dropping before a throw … I can go on.  It was definitely one of the worst I’ve ever done.  Why?  It’s because I was experimenting.  Unfortunately in a randori, things can go from good to bad really quick.  If you try something and it doesn’t work, unless you’re really good (which apparently I’m not), it’s very difficult to recover so that you can try again.  More likely, you find yourself struggling just to survive.

But that is the price with experimenting.  It is well worth paying.  I could go on doing the same three moves but as one sempai pointed out, one day, someone will figure me out.  Then, I’ll be in trouble. 

Second, the hakama.  Ack!  I don’t remember how many different ways I’ve tried to tie it.  I just can’t get the koshita to stay tight against my back.  What I really want is to tie it so that the straps don’t show in the back.  I know the steps but no matter what I do, the koshita eventually loosens.  And let’s not forget the folding.   Actually, I think I have a handle on that although there are definitely days when the hakama refuses to fold.  I hear that’s very common.  The other night, I had what I like to call a “triple wardrobe malfunction” - my dogi pants were falling off, the koshita was loose, and the hakama was steadily dropping, to the point that I was tripping every few steps.  Not a good day.  And oh yeah, I don’t care what anyone tells me, you can not go to the bathroom without taking off your hakama. :)

Third, I noticed kohais watching me recently on the mat.  It seems they have this crazy idea now that I know what I’m doing.  Fool them!  Half the time, I watch Sensei do her thing and then go huh?  Ok, maybe not half the time but it does happen.  I try not to be self conscious about people watching me but I am.   Up until now, I’ve trained in sort of a cocoon, safe in the knowledge that no one cares if I make a mistake.  Now and henceforth as a yudansha, I must face the fact that I’m some sort of role model.  Of course no one expects me to be perfect.  But there is definitely more expectation in terms of what I should be able to do.  It’s not that this experience is new to me since I taught Taekwondo for awhile after I got my black belt.  But aikido is different for some reason.  It is such an advance art.  I don’t know anything!  Why are you looking to me for answers?  heh!  It’s silly really.  I’ll get used to it I’m sure.  But it is an adjustment.

Fourth, I now get to go to black belt-only dojo events.  Like the yearly dinner at Sensei’s house.  Wow!  I just hope there isn’t an initiation- you know, like reciting the shodan test requirements in alphabetical order.

Finally, I’m gonna go to my first seminar tommorrow as a black belt.  It’s Doran Sensei at Aikido Academy in Redmond.  I hope I get to take some ukemi from him.  That’s really the big plus to wearing a hakama.  I almost never get thrown at seminars as a kyu rank.  It’s as if we’re invisible.  The only exceptions were Endo and Anno Sensei.  They will throw everyone.  We’ll see.  More likely though, Doran Sensei will throw his uke and that’s it.  I expect that since that’s what he did when I used to train at Aikido West.  Still, it’d be nice.

I’m sure there are more differences but those are the big ones (not necessarily in any order).  I wonder if every yudansha goes through similar transition from kyu rank?

Ken Wright, who teaches Tai Chi and Push Hands at our dojo, said something really cool the other day.  I want to jot it down so I don’t forget it.

Rooted in the feet, generated in the legs, directed from the hips, emanated through the hands.

I may not have the exact words but they’re pretty close.  He was referring to the power behind a strike, push, or throw.  It’s interesting to hear these words because it’s what we practice in aikido. 

They’re good guidelines by which we can check ourselves when a technique doesn’t work.  Are our feet firmly planted?  Are we trying to generate power in our arms or from our legs?  When we move, are we moving just the upper body or is our entire body moving with the center as the focal point?  Are the hands relaxed enough such that power can flow through?

The last question is intriguing to me.  I recently began practicing qigong.  Simple exercises that Ken taught me to help with my health issues.  The most basic exercise is to just stand, feet shoulder width apart, arms relaxes at the side, chin slightly tucked in, legs bent as if sitting on a stool, and the mind cleared except for the image of yourself standing under a waterfall.  Ken told me that after a while I should feel the “opening of the joints.”  

It’s been about four weeks since I started doing this exercise.  I can’t say for sure if there’s been any impact on my health.  But the one thing I have noticed is that on occasions, I can relax my arms and hands to such an extent that I can actually feel the tip of my fingers connect with my center.  Is this the “opening of the joints” he’s talking about?  I can’t do it consistently.  But when I do, I can feel chi flowing out.  Not only that but when I move my center, so does my hands.  Cool stuff.

In aikido, we talk about ki (or chi if you’re practicing a Chinese art) but we don’t really have the vocabulary to describe what’s really happening in the body to make it flow.  That’s where tai chi is helpful.  The solo forms in particular is useful in breaking down the individual minute movements required.  Also, because they are practiced at your own pace, you can take the time to examine each movement without the pressure that comes with training with a partner.  It is one reason why we hold tai chi classes at our dojo - it complements aikido very well.

What’s even more interesting is the perspective that one art brings to the other.  Aikidoists benefit from the vocabularly and the slow study that tai chi offers.  Tai chi practitioners get to see how some of the principles that they’re studying work in motion with a partner.  It makes for very interesting dialogs.

We are very fortunate to have Ken in our midst.  For awhile, I was resistant to going to his classes.  Not because I didn’t think they were useful but because I felt I should concentrate on only one art at a time.  I tried that once upon a time - simultaneously training in taekwondo and aikido.  Didn’t work at all.  But that isn’t the case with aikido and tai chi.  The two arts complement each other so well that I’d be missing out a significant part of my training by not attending the classes.  I’m very grateful that our dojo has made space and time for him.