Aikido

A couple posts back, I wrote how you don’t need to know specifically how to punch or kick in order to defend youself. Any self-defense experts will tell you that the best defense is to avoid situations in which you have to fight. But what if you don’t have a choice and you are knee deep in a fight or die situation? Worse, you don’t know how to fight and if you take flight, you die?

That’s what happened to my very good friend who is also an aikido classmate. She and her family were out of country on vacation. On their last night, three armed gunmen broke into their rental house in the middle of the night. They tied up my friend’s husband and locked their three-year-old in the bathroom. My friend was then escorted through the house with a gun to her head while the gunmen rummage the house for cash and valuables. To say she was frightened would be an understatement. Certainly, she was afraid for her life. But more than anything else, she was afraid for her children.

Don’t worry. This story has a happy ending although there were moments when it didn’t seem that way. The entire family came through unscathed. For someone who has never been in such a unfathomable situation, I can’t help but feel incredibly impressed with my friend and the fortitude she exhibited during the crisis.

What did she do? She did what any good aikidoka should do in a conflict situation: she connected. What really helped was that she spoke the language and as such, was able to converse with the gunmen. She knew what they wanted because she understood them. But the connection ran the other direction as well. She was able to tell them what she needed to do in order for the gunmen to get what they wanted. That’s what a good uke is supposed to do - she connects to nage not only so she knows what nage is doing, but so nage knows what she’s doing. There is an ongoing dialog. Without it, each party is apt to make assumptions and you all know what happens when assumptions are incorrect. In her case, a bad assumption could very well mean the difference between life or death.

The other thing she did that made such a big difference is her ability to stay calm. I mean absolutely calm. Sure, she was quivering within. Who wouldn’t be? But outwardly, she was very calm. She used her inside voice. No yelling. No screaming. She spoke to the gunmen like you would if you were in a library. She was a good nage in that she didn’t panic when uke came at her with lots of energy. She took it all in and presented a calm demeanor. She gave the gunmen no reason to yell at her or to hit her.

Not only did she remain calm but she kept her center. Now, you’re thinking, if you’re calm, then you must be in your center. Not necessarily. What made me think she was in her center was when she told me how she asked the gunmen to turn on the light so that she can find the car keys. Cooperating is one thing. That’s like an easy uke who goes flying at the merest touch. My friend was a grounded uke - she cooperated but she also wasn’t afraid to say what she needed to say. She could have fumbled for the keys which more than likely, would have pissed off gunmen. Or she could calmly asked if the lights could be turned on. How many of you out there think you could have done that in her situation? Without panicking or screaming? I don’t know if I could.

She didn’t punch or kick. She didn’t fight whatsoever. Yet, my friend defended herself. And as a result, everyone made it home ok. If this is not proof that aikido works, I don’t know what is.

It also highlight the importance of spirit. You can have the best techniques. But without an indomitable spirit, none of it makes a damn difference. The acid test is to defend yourself without knowing any technique or be placed in a situation in which it’s impossible to use a technique without serious risk to yourself or to those you’re protecting. In this particular case, the bad guys had guns. We haven’t been taught to dodge bullets. Any attempt to use an aikido technique would have turned into a disaster. So my friend fought with only what she had - her mind and spirit. That is aikido.

From now on, this is the post I will point to the next time someone asks if aikido works in a self-defense situation. Yes, it works. You better believe it!

Our dojo hosted another seminar this past weekend.  Patty Saotome Sensei is a 6th dan from the Aikido School of Ueshiba.  Her martial intensity is unparallel.  If looks could kill, hers would.  Yet, she has this lightness about her which at times seems contradictory.  One moment, she’d throw three atemis - the kind of atemis that may not touch physically but they dig into you nonetheless - and the next moment, she would crack a smile. 

She doesn’t talk much.  But what she does say speaks volume.  Like when she said that all movements starts as an irimi.  Even a tenkan starts as an irimi.  It makes incredible sense.  And you can see it in her waza.  She’s in your center.  In fact, she displaces your center whenever possible.  She said too many people simply blend and stand next to uke.  What they really should be doing is to step in and stand where uke’s center used to be. 

This is clearly illustrated during shomen-uchi kaitenage practice - strike comes down; blend; draw uke’s arm down; the other hand on uke’s neck/upper back/shoulder (your preference).  My tendency is to stand next to uke.  My only control over uke is my arm holding uke’s arm up and the other hand on his neck.  If uke is stronger than me, it wouldn’t take much effort for him to stand up.  In fact, that has happened quite often.  So here I was, doing just that when Patty Saotome Sensei came by.  She said, “step in deeper.”  I’m like: huh?  I thought I was pretty close to uke already.  But I was wrong.  It turned out I could step in deeper, much deeper.  When I did that, uke had absolutely no power.  I was on top of him. 

The other thing I liked about Patty Saotome Sensei is her martial intensity.  Like Clint George Sensei, she’s alive at all times.  But her intenseness comes from her eyes.  And that intensity is even more fiery with a bokken in her hands.  Her only instructions during our bokken practice was “practice with intensity.”  That’s what we did.  I was paired up with one of my sempais.  He’s this six foot plus giant.  I don’t think I have ever practiced kumitachi with him.  But here we were, bokkens in our hands, staring - and I mean staring - each other down.  Remember the movie The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly? You remember the whistled tune as the gunmen faced each other?  Dust blowing, tumbleweeds floating by.  Yeah, that was what it was like.  There were times when we didn’t move for nearly a minute.  At one point, I took to watching his breathing, striking just as he was about to take a breath.  Scared the crap out of him.  Ah, precious.

You know, as much as we don’t want to admit it, sometimes we do get into a routine when we train.  We expect ukes to move a certain way.  We expect a strike to come at you a certain way.  We get into habits.  What makes practice alive is the fire within each of us.  Perhaps that’s what Patty Saotome Sensei was really demonstrating this weekend - how to bring out that fire.   Think about irimi for example.  In order for you to enter, you must make a commitment.  If you hesitant, you’re dead.  The very act of entering requires you light that fire inside.  For some, it burns very bright - you can see it in their irimi.  For others, not so bright.  The key is to recognize that the flame is there.  And to light it up when you need it. 

The first time I saw Patty Saotome Sensei was a few years ago, when I was a early brown belt.  Back then, I was really in love with the smooth, flowing style of Yoshinobu Takeda Sensei.   Martialness was in the back of my mind but not very high on the list.  So when I saw Patty Saotome Sensei the first time, I was not overly excited.  This had nothing to do with her or what she was teaching.  It was just not my cup of tea at the time.  Now, it’s different.  Not only am I impressed with her martialness and intensity, but I noticed that although her style isn’t as flowing as Takeda’s, there are definite subtle components to all of her movements.  I attribute this largely to my tai chi practice.  More so than ever before, I’m finding myself seeing subtlety in movements.  The slight drop of the knees, the quiet opening of the qua, the lengthening of the spine as it extends up and down at the same time.  Patty Saotome Sensei does all that. 

I’m glad I had a chance to see her this time around.  I hope she comes back next year. 

So I was half-watching this show called Taboo on the National Geographic channel.  This particular episode was about how people (men in particular) prove themselves in different cultures.  For example, there is a tribe on some island (sorry, don’t remember where - I was half-watching, remember?) that ritually have its men jump off a six story high tower made of sharp wood.  The idea is that the jumper’s family would benefit from good fortune - assuming the jumper didn’t impale himself by a piece of wood sticking out of the tower or break his neck as his head smash into the ground at 9.8 m/s squared.

Anyways, as fun as it was watching half naked men jump off a tower with only a flimsy rope tied to their ankles, the really interesting part of the episode was about this fight club in San Francisco.  Actually, it’s the Bay Area where I used to live.  Apparently, fight clubs do exist.  Just like the movie.  The show profiled this mid-30 software engineer who regularly opened up his garage so that like-minded men (or shall we call them neanderthals) could bash each other’s brains out.  They wore only a face protector.  Arms, legs, and torsos were bare.  Each fight featured a different weapon.  It might be a toilet seat, a trash lid, or a edge of a tennis racket.  The idea is to use what is at hand - just like a real fight.  Some of the fights shown were brutal.  There was this newbie who lost his weapon (a weighted sock of some sort) thirty seconds in and was basically pummeled into the ground because the other guy knew how to punch and he didn’t.  Then they show this other guy who broke five bones in his face after being hit with a hook punch.  He laid on the floor groaning, but in typical macho fashion, insisted he was ok.

Sigh.

The software engineer said that he needed an outlet for his aggression.  Like all cubicle warriors forced to endure endless mind-numbing meetings, he’d often find himself wishing he could strangle the life out of the incompetent numbnut sitting across him.  The fight club allowed him to do just that - maybe not that specific numbnut - but with a little imagination, it could be.  And he could do it legally.  Which makes you think: how many of your co-workers feel the same way?  And: what are they doing to let it all out?  Even more frightening: or are they just keeping it in?

I applaud the software engineer for finding an outlet.  I’m of the opinion that keeping negative emotions in is bad.  Most in the psychiatric profession will probably agree with me.  And I certainly understand how satisfying it is to beat the crap out of someone after a hard day’s work.  As much as I am about non-violence nowadays, I do sometime miss my taekwondo days.  Work eight hours, go to the dojang, put on my sparring gear, and go three rounds.  Yet, surprisingly, my first reaction to the software engineer’s comment about letting out his aggression was utter disgust.  What a caveman!  He might spend his day working in a high tech profession but afterwards, he revert back to his primal self.  There is absolutely no attempt to transcend the animal that we all are deep down.  Rather, he gives in to it and in fact, takes joy in exercising the beast within.

I’m not saying aikidoka are transcended human beings.  And I’m certainly not saying we’re better than the software engineer and those like him.  But looking at the state of the world today, many, if not all of the problems this planet is facing : war, famine, global warming, etc., are the result of man giving in to his base primal instinct.  Lust for power, the need to dominate.  He has something I want and I’m gonna get it using whatever means I have.  Which unfortunately often ends up being some form of violence.  Even diplomacy, if you look at it really carefully, is a form of power play.  There is no harmony.  It’s all about how we can best the other side. Whether it’s with guns and rockets or with words, the end result is the same.  Same story since the dawn of man. 

It should be no surprise that if we continue down this path, the human race as a specie will destroy itself.  At the very least, it will destroy the planet that hosts it.  Why?  Because we give no thought to the kind of damage that our primal base instinct can cause.  O’Sensei saw this decades ago, before there was the internet, before global warming was even a concept, before “cowboy diplomacy” became the bedrock of this country’s foreign policy.  He saw what we as human beings can do to ourselves and created aikido to counter it.

What a different world this would be if everyone practiced aikido.  What if our president learned to do a tenkan, to see things from the other side’s point of view, instead of firing from the hip?  Negotiations would never be the same.  You want to let out your aggression, software engineer?  Go get thrown a hundred times.  You’d be too tired to beat anyone up.  And you’ll feel good afterwards.  No bruises.  No trips to the hospital. 

It is easy and very natural to give in to the beast.  It is harder, and I dare say, braver to accept the beast and then to work to control it. Aikido gives us the tool to do that.  It is the longer road or to quote the famous book, the road less traveled.  To not do so means consigning ourselves to a worse hell - one that find the human race extinct and the planet ruined.  So the next time you sit across that incompetent numbnut in one of those endless mind-numbing meetings, thank O’Sensei.  Thank him for his gift.  I do because I am certain that without it, I would be just like the software engineer.