Aikido

Our dojo had the pleasure of hosting Clint George Sensei from Last Chance Aikido in Helena, Montana.  Clint Sensei trained 15 years in Japan with Michio Hikitsuchi Sensei at the Kumano Juku dojo in Shingu.  His style combines the flowing, energetic practice typical of Shingu and the martial intensity of his Shindo Ryu Karate training.  In many ways, he reminds me of Frank Doran Sensei.  They both exhibit deadliness with compassion.  The deadliness comes from the understanding that every move is a potential strike.  The compassion comes from knowing that a move can be deadly and choosing not to make it so. 

Like Doran Sensei, Clint Sensei has presence.  A classmate noted how Clint Sensei wasn’t that much taller than he was.  Yet, on the mat, he seems larger than life.  I think part of that had to do with how alive Clint Sensei is at every moment.  He’s constantly aware of everything around him.  I truly believe it would be a daunting task to sneak up on him.  I certainly wouldn’t dare try.  This aliveness was one of themes at the seminar.  Whether you’re nage or uke, you must always move in a way that allows you to instantly switch direction or technique.  You can’t do that if you’re just going through the motion or anticipating your partner’s actions.  You must be aware and connected at all times.

Not only must you be aware, the ability to change goes hand in hand with being supple.  Clint Sensei used that word quite often.  In particular, he said you must be supple in your legs.  Again, it doesn’t matter if you’re nage or uke.  Your legs must be like springs, absorbing energy and releasing them so you can spring out of them in an instant.  We are taught to drop our centers and ground ourselves into the earth.  Clint Sensei certainly does that.  Yet, if you watch him, his legs do not remain bent once he drops.  You can see them still very much alive, ready to rise or move.  Personally, this is a revelation for me.  I try to keep my legs  springy when taking ukemi.  But I never really applied that quality to my legs when I’m nage.  I think this is because I’m so concerned with dropping my center and grounding.  Of course it makes sense.  There is an up/down component in every technique.  The ability to change your verticality in an instant allows you to, for example, take advantage of the shift in uke’s center as he is brought down and then up (or vice versa).  Something to work on the next time I’m on the mat.

Suppleness applies also to the arms.  Elbows in and arms loose.  The extension comes from the energy projecting out of the fingers and blade of your hands.  Like the legs, they must be springy - ready to instantly change a kokyu throw into an elbow strike for example.  Not that you’ll actually strike someone but that springiness opens up that option.  Options are always good in a martial situation. 

The one other theme worth mentioning is the moving of the arms, body, legs, etc. because of the center.  Not really a new concept.  But he explained it using the sword as a point of reference.  It’s not just a matter of keeping the sword in front of you at all times.  The center should move first whether you’re turning your body or angling your arms to throw someone in kokyu ho.  The center drives everything.  Nothing drove that home more than doing forty-five minutes of kokyu-ho Friday night.  Extending energy through your fingers, elbows in, then turning your center, angling your arms (sword) to throw uke.  Over and over again.  Fun stuff.

The final class was a black belt only class.  Clint Sensei went over a few kumitachi techniques.  Like empty hands, the theme was moving from the center.  In one technique, we drew our partner’s shomen shrike with our bokken.  If you did not draw with your center and extend at the same time, you’d find yourself collapsed and uke on top of you with his bokken hitting your head.  Interesting stuff.  Those who have been reading my posts will know that I’m not a fan of weapons.  Yet, I have to say that, even after two hours of sword work, even after having spent the prior three days training, I wanted Clint Sensei to show us more. 

Overall,  it was a great seminar.  This is the fourth or fifth time I’ve attended a seminar with Clint George Sensei.  I always come away with new and interesting stuff to work on.  And I just love the focus on martialness.  Very few teachers have the pedigree that Clint Sensei has.  It was an honor to have someone so experienced in our midst.  I can’t wait until he’s here again.

On Friday, a bunch of us went to a special class taught by Chris Moses at Seattle School of Aikido. Chris has a nidan in aikido (he trained at my dojo which is how I know him), but has been studying Icho Ryu Aikibudo with Neil Yamamoto for the last four years, and more recently has been influenced by the internal/body-development training methods of Akuzawa Sensei and the Aunkai. Elements of the practice is familiar to most aikidoists, but on the whole, it is a very different practice. It is one that aims to teach the body to structure itself in such a way that techniques work not so much because of the energy of the interaction, but from the way the body is positioned and aligned with respect to itself and to uke. There is also an emphasis on locking uke, sometimes almost mechanically, in a compromised position to break balance. Finally, it is very linear when compared to aikido which is very circular. By that I mean that every movement is on one plane - vertical or horizontal. This was quite an adjustment for me as I’m used to move across planes, often in spirals.

Yet despite the differences, I found myself nodding quite often during the class as I recognize basic concepts that are common to both arts. For example, the fundamental concept of kuzushi (balance breaking) is a must and should be achieved on initial contact. But this can’t happen without first connecting with uke. This connection must be maintained throughout the technique. Nothing new here for aikidoists. Then Chris said something that made me go oh yeah! He said the way to keep that connection is to maintain constant pressure at the point of contact. Immediately, I thought back to a class taught by George Ledyard Sensei (Aikido Eastside) who said exactly the same thing. From a mechanical point of view, nage is essentially locking uke but in a way that doesn’t alert uke that he’s being locked. Of course, in aikido, we don’t say locking as it implies we are doing something to uke. But the concept is the same.

At one point, Chris had us do aidori kotegaeshi. This kotegaeshi was different in that you don’t initially do a full tenkan. Instead, you stand somewhat at a 45 degree angle, toe to toe with uke, all the while you have uke’s elbow locked. Then you step straight back and - this is the tricky part - shift your weight to your back leg (the leg that just stepped back). This has the effect of drawing uke towards you. Essentially, you’ve created a hole for him to fall into. This is unlike aikido in which we often rely on the movement of the technique to create the hole. Both achieve the same results. On the surface, they seem like wholly different approaches. Yet, they are not. I think what Chris is teaching is the details often glossed over in aikido. Weight shifting and the opening of the qua (the muscles around your groin) are fundamental concepts that I’m just learning in tai chi. The linearity of Chris’ approach demand that these concepts be put to use else the technique will not work. In aikido, we can get away from not using them because of the energy and movement of the technique. I’m starting to suspect that that can only take me so far. I think a combination of both approaches is the way to go in as far as furthering my practice.

I found commonality even in bizarre solo exercises that Chris had us do toward the end of the class. These solo exercises are meant to teach you how to extend up/down, left/right, and front/back at the same time. They do so by organizing your body in such a way that essentially, you create a stable structure from which to move. The key to this is to create lines of tension across your body. I won’t go into the specifics as I don’t feel I can do them justice. Suffice to say that I was hurting the next day from flexing muscles I didn’t think I had. As strange as they were though, the concepts behind the exercises were not entirely alien to me. Again, drawing from tai chi, the idea is to form paths through which energy can be channeled. In tai chi push hands, we are told to let the energy of a push flow into the back leg. Chris’ exercises do the same except that it’s body wide. One exercise had us forming something like a human X - arms forming a V above our head, legs bent having risen from a squat. There’s tension running along the arms and the outside of the legs. The qua is soft however. The effect is that, if someone were to push you from the top (on your hands), the energy would flow naturally to the ground along the lines of tension.

One can see how such lines of tension can create a structure that is very stable. Of course, this doesn’t jive well with the flowing practice of aikido. Yet, I don’t think aikidoist should dismiss it simply because of its emphasis on tension. Aikidoists have all been told that you have to be soft yet not so soft that you collapse. How do you do both? Extend ki. But how? Chris’ exercises give us some insight into that. By creating a stable structure, the rest of your body can be soft and supple. But is that what ki is - a mechanical application of body structure? Maybe, maybe not. I’m not ready to say there is no ki or chi. But the exercises does offer one glimpse into how it can work.

Chris said he can never go back to aikido knowing what he knows now. I can see that. What he’s doing now is so different. Yet, as I said, there are common elements to both and I’d like to think there’s a way to combine both the mechancial, linear approach of Akuzawa’s art with that of aikido, much like how I’m trying to incorporate tai chi into my aikido practice. That is something worth investigating. Thanks to Chris for opening that door for me.

Continuing from Part 1 …

I use the word study earlier because that’s what aikido is. A great deal of experimentation must happen in order to figure out how to make the techniques work for you. This is because unlike other arts, aikido is very body centric. It is more akin to tai chi in that much of the movements are internal. We often say “make aikido your own.” Again, unlike karate or taekwondo, your teacher’s version of aikido is not necessarily yours. It is expected that your aikido will be different from everybody else’s. This is a natural result of the study.

Because aikido is such a study-intensive art, it is sometimes necessary to cut out anything that might distract from that study, at least initially. Deception in an attack is one such thing. To truly study a line of attack, that line must be clean. If uke strikes then changes the direction of the attack, he is not giving what nage needs to do his study. Unless, of course, nage is studying how to adapt to sudden changes in attack directions. That is a perfectly valid study. But there should be agreement between nage and uke that that is what’s being practiced. Otherwise, uke is just being a butthead.

That is not to say all we do is study and that aikido is one big academic exercise. All of it must lead to being able to defend ourselves against any attacks. This is a martial art after all. That’s exactly what is practiced at higher levels, particuarly in jiyu-waza (free style). Black belts and above are expected to handle any attacks, often from multiple attackers coming from multiple directions. Ukes are free to attack as they see fit. It is up to nage to make sure there isn’t an opening in which uke can find a way to, for example, change the direction of an attack. Uke is even expected to reverse nage if possible. It’s called kaeshi-waza. If you ever watch two high level aikidoka go at it, you’d think they are sparring. In many ways they are. Nage becomes uke. Uke becomes nage. Each trying to throw while protecting his openings.

Do I think aikido can be used in a real life situation? Absolutely! Do I think someone can learn to defend himself in a bare-knuckle fight with just a few years of aikido. Probably not. Not unless that training is supplemented with other types of training (which I know some schools do). However, I would submit then that you’re not really doing aikido.

But most real life situations aren’t bare knuckle fights to the death. Any self defense expert will tell you that the best defense is to avoid situations in which you have to fight. In that, aikido certainly is useful. As with any martial art, it teaches you all of the fundamentals - distance, timing, awareness, initative, getting off the line of attack, etc. For example, why are you walking down a dark street instead of a lighted one? If a stranger approaches you, do you know the distance at which you should consider him a threat? If someone hits you, do you know how to get off the line of attack? Aikido is especially helpful in understanding intent. Ukes are taught to be sensitive and connected. The best thing you can do in a threatening situation is to connect with the threat. Do you know at all times what this person is doing? Is he reaching into his pocket? Is he moving ever so slightly towards you? Those are things aikido excels in teaching. Knowing how to defend against a punch or a kick is not a prerequisite to defending yourself.

Even if you find yourself in a fight, aikido will at the very least help you avoid serious injury (like getting off the line of attack) and create a situation in which you can extricate yourself. But to truly resolve the fight using aikido techniques and principles would require, in my opinion, decades of training. It’s not because the techniques aren’t effective but because it takes a great deal of skills and a particular mind-set to use them in a non-violent way. How do you fight without fighting? That’s a question typically asked by martial artists after many many years of training. With aikido, we try to answer it and teach it right from the beginning!

Those who start aikido strictly to learn self-defense is missing the core of the practice - that it is a rich, spiritual art based on using non-violence to resolve conflicts. All of the aikido techniques are designed for that purpose. Anyone can be taught how to punch and kick. Fighting is easy since it’s something we all naturally want to do when we’re angry. But as anyone who has ever tried to hold his temper will know, it is an incredibly difficult if not impossible task to hold back when all you want to do is deck someone out. Aikido teaches you to do just that and then to use aikido techniques to resolve the fight, sometimes even before the fight begins. Any study that requires going against human nature must, by necessity, be long and deep. It is the reason why one should not judge the art solely on a few videos. There is so much to the art you can not see. You must feel it. You must practice it.

Happy New Year to all. This is the first post of the year. I’m still recovering from the gorge-fest that is the holidays so please bear with me.

I want to take this moment to respond to a comment someone just posted. You can read the full text here:

http://aikiinseattle.wordpress.com/2007/12/25/seigo-yamaguchi-shihan-videos/#comments

His comment - ukes don’t look like they’re really attacking - and his related question - how effective is aikido in a self-defense situation? - are typical of someone who does not understand the fundamentals behind the art and how it is practiced. As is expected from a martial artist, he is rightly curious as to how such a beautiful and elegant art would fare against someone bent on destroying you.

Let’s start by stating what most aikidoka should know by heart: your job as uke (person who attacks) is to attack nage (person who throws) with full commitment. It means to attack without hesitation, without stopping or pausing. It means to attack with your center continously moving forward. It means to continue the attack even after the initial attack. That is assuming nage hasn’t compromised, thrown, and pinned you. It also means to attack cleanly without deception. I know the martial artists out there are saying, “But that’s not realistic!” There’s a reason for this which I will get into later.

It does not mean to attack recklessly, charging in with no regard for your safety. Uke is still martially aware, particularly of his openings. It does not necessarily mean full speed either. You can be equally committed at slow speed. I know it seems contradictory but it isn’t. If you stand on a track in front of a train coming at you, it really doesn’t matter if it’s moving at 5 miles per hour or 100 miles per hour. You will still get bowled over. The energy of the attack (as manifested in the momentum and inertia of the attack) is what’s important, not speed (although the addition of speed certainly makes uke much harder to deal with).

The problem with videos is that you can’t really see momentum and inertia, particularly at slow speed. So it seems like uke is not really attacking. All he’s doing is sticking his hand out. Yes, he is but that hand is attached to 150+ pounds moving constantly towards you. You, as nage, must move or you risk being run over or seriously bumped into.

“But that’s not realistic!” No one attacks at slow speed. You’re absolutely correct. But you have to remember the context of the video - Yamaguchi Shihan was demonstrating in front of a class. As anyone who has ever taught martial art would know, sometimes it’s necessary to slow down in order to clearly show a particular technique. Also, as in any other art, we don’t practice at full speed all the time. It is not always practical or safe. And practicing at full speed without learning the fundamentals at slow speed is a sure way to end up in the hospital.

“But you see uke sticking his hand out in every aikido video, full speed or otherwise. Clearly, he’s not attacking!” Here is where aikido is different from other martial arts. In all other arts, a strike - punch, kick, chop, etc. - is always executed as intended. It’s meant to hurt the opponent. In aikido, a strike is sometimes executed as a way to show the line of attack. For example, a sliding shomen-uchi - the quintessential “hand sticking out” attack - might represent a stab to the head with a knife . Clearly, the hand isn’t going to hurt nage, not unless it’s aimed at the eyes. But for nage, it is an opportunity to study how to handle an attack that is coming towards him at that particular angle and direction. It may be a knife, a broken bottle, a spear, whatever.

That doesn’t mean we don’t practice against strikes intended to hurt. Personally, as uke, unless nage is specifically asking for - for the a lack of a better term - an abstract strike, I attack as if I am going to hurt nage. My yokomen-uchi (chop to temple/neck), for example, will knock you out if you don’t move (assuming of course you’re a black belt and knows how to handle such an attack). But not all aikidoka practice that way. Some just want to study the lines and the spirals, which are fundamental concepts in aikido. For such studies, a committed abstract strike will work just as well as a real strike, without the added risk of getting hurt.

The only downside to this practice - and this is strictly my opinion - is that sometimes, aikidoka get into the habit of always striking abstractly. Which is fine as long as they practice with people who only expect that sort of attacks. There is a time and place for both types of attack. I think it’s uke’s responsibility to be aware of that. But again, that’s my opinion.

There is also the issue of aikidoka not knowing how to strike realistically. That is expected of course. Many people who practice aikido do so without any background in a hard art. Copying is not necessarily a good way for someone to learn how to strike. There is so much that goes into an effective attack which is simply not taught in aikido. But that is also expected given that aikido is a non-violent art.

And let’s go ahead and say the ugly truth - aikido strikes even when executed realistically aren’t really realistic in the context of a street fight. For example, an aikido punch (tsuki) is thrown from the hip. That has absolutely no martial application. I would never strike someone’s head with an overhead hand strike (shomen-uchi) because more than likely, I’ll probably break my hand against his head. But, having said that, these strikes are great representation of possible strikes. For example, a punch from the hip might represent a person coming at you with a knife. A shomen-uchi might represent a broken bottle coming down on your head. And as I said earlier, they are excellent at illustrating the lines of attack which when you think about it, all attacks - real or otherwise - must follow.

Regardless, the key to an aikido attack is not how realistically it is but how committed it is. Without uke’s energy coming at nage, there is no conflict to work with. No conflict, no reason to do the technique. Of course, realistic and committed is always better but for the reasons I mentioned above, that’s not always possible in aikido.

“But sometimes you don’t see uke striking at all! Or you see uke attack but before the strike is completed, he’s already thrown.” This is an example of how videos just can’t do justice to the art. What you don’t see is nage entering uke’s space, moving first and seizing the initiative. Uke can only respond to the entrance (called irimi). Striking is impossible because in order to strike, you must have your feet and balance under you. You don’t have either if someone has your center. The entrance can be quite subtle which makes it even harder to see in a video. It might be a physical entrance or an energetic one in which nage enters with his intention. To an outside observer, it looks like nothing has happened. But from uke’s perspective, he’s toast. Nage has him by his pitards so to speak. Attack is not possible. There is no opening. No attack, no conflict.

I’m going to break here since this post is getting quite long. Please continue reading the second part here.