Aikido

Several videos of the late Yamaguchi Shihan who was a 9th dan and a direct student of O’Sensei. Yoshinobu Takeda Shihan, who is now an 8th dan, was a student of Yamaguchi Shihan. If you watch carefully, you can see the influence Yamaguchi Shihan had on Takeda Shihan.

After discussing the topic with others, it seems there are more ways to look at this topic. 

The first way is what I described in my last post - absorbing uke’s energy and then redirecting some of it back out.  The add is part of the blend since it’s using the same energy that came in.  You’re redirecting, not adding.  And depending on the angle at which the energy is redirected, it’s possible to cause uke to accelerate without adding energy to the equation.  A good example of this would be an iriminage - you’re at the center as nage, uke is spinning around you.  Even if uke is moving around you at a constant speed, technically, he is accelerating - toward your center.  (I verified this like all amateur physicist wanna-be - by googling :)  I like this explanation since it is very aiki and conforms with known physical laws.

Another way to look at it is that by the time you add, the blend is already completed.  So technically, you’re not adding to the blend.  You’re just adding.  That just doesn’t seem right to me.  It’s like agreeing with someone and then at the last moment, refuting everything, pissing the person off.

If you want to get mystical, you can use the backed-by-the-heaven explanation.  If you’ve read the 1957 interview with O’Sensei, there was an account of the sumo wrestler who challenged O’Sensei.  O’Sensei told the sumo wrestler to push him over.  Try as he might, the wrestler could not budge O’Sensei.  Then with seemingly no effort, O’Sensei threw the wrestler from the room - all from a sitting position!  He said he “redirected his power away from me and he went flying by.”  This supports the first explanation.   But he also said “since you win over everything in accordance with the mission of heaven, you possess absolute strength.”  You could interpret that a number of ways but we all know how spiritual O’Sensei was.  He truly believed he tapped into the power of the universe.  He was able to do what he did because he wasn’t just one with uke, but one with the earth, heaven, and the entire universe.  His strength came from that unity.  He didn’t have to add energy.  The energy was already there, his for the channeling.

Perhaps if I train for another few decades, I might have a clue on how to get the heaven to back my throws.  For now, I think I’ll stick with explanation number one. 

A 1957 interview with O’Sensei and the second Doshu.  A must read.

http://www.aikidofaq.com/interviews.html

The essential points become masakatsu, agatsu, and katsuhayai. As I said previously , masakatsu means “correct victory” and agatsu means “to win in accordance with the heavenly mission given to you.” Katsuhayai means “the state of mind of rapid victory”.

and

The victory in Aikido is masakatsu and agatsu; since you win over everything in accordance with the mission of heaven, you possess absolute strength.

and this very ying-yang comment:

If I were to try to verbalize it I would say that you control your opponent without trying to control him. That is, the state of continuous victory. There isn’t any question of winning over or losing to an opponent. In this sense, there is no opponent in Aikido. Even if you have an opponent, he becomes a part of you, a partner you control only.

Ever wonder how O’Sensei is able to pin someone with one finger?

I draw a circle around him. His power is contained inside that circle. No matter how strong a man he may be, he cannot extend his power outside of that circle. He becomes powerless. Thus, if you pin your opponent while you are outside of his circle, you can hold him with your index finger or your little finger. This is possible because the opponent has already become powerless.

I’m sure there’s more to it than that.  It’s a hint nevertheless to what is possible.

Is it just my imagination or do we sometimes add to the blend?  Thinking back to my own waza, there are definite times when I would do a blend, connect with uke, and then somewhere along the technique, I add speed, power, whatever, to give my throw that finishing touch - the oomphf that makes uke hit the mat a little harder and the snap that makes uke roll a little faster and farther.  But is it correct to do that?  Am I violating some sort of blending rule?

What is a good blend?  My image of it is one in which nage moves almost synchronously with the attacking uke, closing the distance (or letting the distance close) just enough to avoid collision while maintaining connection, and matching speed such that nage and uke seems to be moving as one.  To do that, nage must be sensitive to the energy coming at him and deal with it in one of two ways - he takes what comes in, and sends it right back out; or he absorbs some of the energy into the ground, sending the rest out with the throw.  Both methods conserve energy - it remains constant throughout the entire interaction, never created or destroyed (I’m not a physics geek so don’t flame me if I’m a bit inaccurate).

So, according to the image above, it seems to me then that it’s never correct for nage to add energy to the equation.  True harmony requires me to work only with what uke gives me.  No more, no less.   Yet, I see people do it on the mat all the time.  Am I missing something?  Is this one of those aikido secrets I have yet to discover? 

When I take ukemi from Sensei, I often feel the oomphf at the end of the throw.  It’s not aggressive or forceful.  It’s just there.  Is she adding energy or is she doing something way beyond my comprehension?

The only explanation I can think of is that perhaps she’s absorbing some of my energy and giving a little of it back as the oomphf.  This is possible maybe because I am a committed uke, bringing lots of the energy into the equation.  She has to absorb some of it or she’ll be overwhelmed.  But she’s skilled enough to rechannel that energy back out at the end of the technique. 

Did I just answer my own question?  Possibly.  Now that I think about it, tai chi often talks about storing energy in the legs and then using that energy to push off into the next technique.  In fact, we did exercises in push-hand classes in which we learn to absorb a push by channeling it into the back leg then popping the energy back out, throwing our partner. 

This is something I’m definitely going to pay more attention to.  First, I want to make sure my aikido is truly harmonious.  It’s not if I’m adding to the blend.  Conservation of energy is an important concept I think.  Second, there is something really powerful with the concept of storing energy.  Up until now, I thought of grounding as simply a mean of survival - of not being overwhelmed when lots of energy is coming my way.  But what if I not only store but learn to rechannel it?  Maybe that’s how you really add the oomphf to the technique?

No, I’m not talking about your significant other.  I’m referring to that special someone who handles all of the day-to-day minutae of running a dojo.  This is the person who organizes the office, signs new students up, makes flyers for seminars, cleans the dojo, and in general, carries out Sensei’s wishes.  This is the person who everyone goes to first with questions about how things work at the dojo.  This is the person without whom the dojo would not be what it is today.

In some dojos, this person would be the uchi-deshi - a live-in student.  In exchange for taking care of the dojo, the uchi-deshi would receive special or extra attention and instructions from Sensei.

We don’t have an uchi-deshi at our dojo.  We have someone who I can only describe as extraordinary in her organizational skills and in her dedication.  She’s a regular student just like me.  She trains and goes home every night just like me.  As far as I can tell, she doesn’t receive any more instruction from Sensei than any of us.  Yet, you’d find her on a typical day toiling in the office, updating records, making calls, and doing whatever required doing in the name of the dojo. 

Just yesterday, I found out she spent two hours on her knees cleaning the hardwood floor.  This should rightly be on the misogi list - a task that we as students would sign up for.  But she did it without complaint, without any expectation that anyone would notice.   I knew she did a lot but this piece of news really touched me. 

Back in my taekwondo days, I did what she did for my instructor.  We had a very small studio - about twenty students max in its hey day.  There really wasn’t anyone taking care of the day-to-day stuff.  My instructor, with all due respect, was somewhat of an absent-minded professor.  So I took it upon myself to handle things around the office, including the cleaning.   Not a big deal, right?  That’s expected from a student.  Sure, in an aikido dojo.  Misogi is a very big part of the practice.  Not so with taekwondo.  Maybe because the art has devolved into more of a sport in which its practitioners are more athletes than martial artists.  I don’t know.  But it is almost impossible to get students to participate with the upkeep of the dojang (that’s Korean for dojo).  I once asked my instructor why we can’t just ask the students to help clean.  He told me these people pay money to be there.  He can’t ask them to do menial tasks like cleaning.

On some level, I understand that.  Even at our aikido dojo, we never ever tell anyone that they must clean.  But many do so anyways because they realize that it is their dojo.  Sure you pay to be there but you get so much more in return.  Doing menial tasks like cleaning is the least you can do to pay back for the lifetime of training you’ll be receiving.

Anyways, having been in a dojo in which no one took responsibility for anything, it really touched me that this special someone at our dojo is so dedicated.  If you train at my dojo, it is very obvious who I’m talking about.  Go say thank you to her. 

Hopefully, this post will inspire other aikidoka to not only thank their special someone (or special people if there are more than one),  but also to help out around the dojo if not already doing so. 

Couple weeks ago, my friend was doing a walking randori.  One of her ukes was this six foot plus giant.  She’s around five feet tall.  If there was ever a David-vs-Goliath scenario, this was it.  What’s really interesting about the randori was that every time she touched the giant, something changed in her. She of course dropped her center.  You have to do that no matter who you throw.  But it was the way she did it - with great intention.  It’s as if she saw him, recognized how potentially difficult it would be to throw him, and adjusted not only her body but her mind to dealing with him.  She didn’t do this with the other ukes.  Just him.  It worked.  She threw him successfully each time.

Her change (for the lack of a better word) prior to throwing the giant is a direct result of her years of training and a credit to her ability to recognize when a change is needed.

But it also made me think about the times when I’ve changed prior to dealing with certain people, on and off the mat.  It seems to me that it can be a double edge sword.  On the one hand, the ability to recognize a difficult situation is invaluable.  On the other hand, that very recognition immediately preloads into your brain all sorts of preconceptions about the person you’re about to interact with.  Maybe the preconceptions are correct.  But the danger comes when they’re not.  Maybe the person has changed since your last encounter.  Maybe you’ve changed.  Maybe you really don’t know that person.  What used to work on him (or her) no longer works.  And because you’ve conditioned yourself to react in a certain way, you find yourself at a loss.  What should you do now? Or worse, you insist on doing what you’ve always done.  Result: conflict!

Even the best of us walk around with all sorts of preconceptions in our head.  It’s human nature.  It’s one way we categorize our everyday experiences.  We put people into cubby holes.  He’s fat.  She’s skinny.  He’s straight.  She’s gay.  He’s a teenager so he must be reckless.  She’s a blond so she must be easy.  Yet, we’ve all experienced situations in which these stereotypes have been proven wrong.  Sure, he’s a teenager but did you know he takes care of his two sisters and his ailing mother when not at school getting straight As?  Yeah, she’s blond but she volunteers at the homeless shelter and has been in a steady relationship for many years. 

When we think of aikido, we immediately think of how it can be used to deal with aggression.  We think of blending and redirecting the aggressive energy.  But we must not forget a lesson that is equally important: how to live in the moment, how to make every encounter fresh and unburdened. 

Our Sensei loves to compare the offering of your hand, shoulder, whatever, prior to a technique to walking up to a person and saying “Hi!” in a bright, cheerful, and welcoming way.  It doesn’t matter who that person is.  Each contact with uke should be fresh.  It should begin with you, as nage, cleansing yourself of any preconceptions about uke.  It shouldn’t matter that just one throw ago, this uke had pissed you off because he wouldn’t move.  This encounter is a new encounter.  This moment is a new moment.

I can’t say I do it all the time myself on or off the mat.  In fact, I’m pretty lousy at it.  But I am reminded of its importance whenever I train with certain individuals at the dojo.  I am reminded of its importance every time my coworkers have a yelling match with my boss because of the preconceptions they have of him and vice versa.  And I am reminded of its importance every time I watch the news and grimace at this country’s foreign policies.

It is unlikely I will ever be attacked on the street.  But I can guarantee you I will be categorized and stereotyped many times throughout my life.  And even with my best effort, I will probably do the same to others.  Not out of malice but because I’m human.   It is my hope that aikido can help me rein in that judgemental impulse.  And when I’m on the receiving end of someone else’s stereotypes, I hope aikido will allow me to graciously accept them and maybe even change them.