April 2008


I went to the intro class last night.  To my surprise, it was a full class, consisting of both new beginners and white belts (those who have completed the intro series).   It was good to see new blood in the dojo.  As I trained with the beginners, I’m reminded of what one of our blue belts told me the other day. 

This blue belt is gearing up for her nikyu test.  I’ve been helping her here and there.  It’s been a long road for her - she’s had to overcome a lot of physical and mental obstacles.  I think in terms of years, she has trained nearly as long as I have.  That she continues to train vigorously is a testament to her fortitude.

Anyways, the other day, she told me that she really appreciates my patience with her.  This was after showing her repeatedly how to do a yonkyo pin.  She said she knows she’s a slow learner.  For her, learning begins with her intellectualizing what she sees.  She’s definitely not one of those people who can learn by simply watching.  It’s actually not surprising given that she’s a very well respected clinical psychotherapist, a rather intellectual profession if there ever was one. 

The comment made me think about how people learn.  For this blue belt, it all starts in the head.  For me, I learn by doing.  I also learn by watching but I get a lot more from actually doing whatever it is I’m learning.  At first, I thought this only applied to physical activities like aikido.  But in hindsight, I realize that’s how I am in general.  For example, I’m very technically savvy.  It’s not because I’ve read every book there is about technology (actually, I don’t read any).  It’s not because I surf YouTube for techie videos (I don’t).  All of my technical skills comes from actually working on computers.  It might be programming or it might be upgrading my computer with a new video card. Put me in a classroom and lecture me for hours on end and I’ll be bored out of my mind.  Put me in a classroom and give me a project to work on and I’ll be as happy as can be.

Perhaps that’s why I get bored with teachers who lecture on and on about aikido.  Just show me the technique and let me try it.  But for someone like the blue belt, the lecture is what’s needed to spark the learning process.

Last night, my friend who was the Sensei for the intro class asked me if there was anything he could have done to improve the class.  First, given that I haven’t taught a single aikido class, I felt a bit unqualified to answer.  But after some thought, I said no - at least in as far as how he demonstrated the technique.  The truth is that the demonstration you do up front as Sensei is only a small part of the teaching process.  You can only say and show so much when you’re up there.  Each student will get different amount of information depending on how he or she learns.  The majority of the teaching process, in my humble opinion (and as someone who has taught tae kwon do back in the day), is done while the students are practicing what you have just shown as you go around instructing individually.  It is during these one-on-one that an instructor can custom tailor their teachings according to each student’s learning ability.

The challenge is recognizing what that ability is for a particular student.  Not everyone is like the blue belt - you can’t expect him or her to tell you.  Often times, they don’t know it themselves.  I suppose that is something that comes with teaching experience. 

There is a rule in most dojos that one should refrain from talking while practicing aikido.  You should learn by watching Sensei.  You should steal Sensei’s technique by observing.  You should then practice in silence, learning as much as you can by doing.   That rule works for me given how I learn.  And I think it’s a good rule in general.  But now, I can’t help but think it may not necessarily work for everyone.  Some people need to ask questions.  They need things explained to them in words.  Strict adherence of the rule may turn these students away from aikido.

But we don’t want the mat to be filled with conversations.  That is certainly not acceptable - in aikido or in any classroom.  So I think there needs to be a balance of some sort.  I think this is where etiquette comes into play.  Our dojo actually does this very well.  We encourage students to ask questions.  But like a classroom, there’s a time and place for those questions.  For example, questions are not allowed when Sensei is demonstrating up front.  Questions are allowed when the instructor is working with you individually.  Even then, there’s a limit.  You certainly don’t want to carry out a conversation with Sensei.  Ask your question, get an answer, then continue practice.  If you have more questions, ask Sensei after class or if she comes around again to work with you. 

The approach has worked very well for our dojo.  I don’t think anyone has ever left because they couldn’t learn what was being taught.  It is, I’m sure, one reason why the blue belt is still training.  Anywhere else, she might have already quit. 

And when you think about it, adapting to a student’s learning ability is no different from listening to uke.  Imposing one learning method is like forcing uke to move when he or she clearly doesn’t want to move.  Of course, each teacher has his or her own favorite teaching style but a successful teacher, I suspect, will adapt as needed.  Our Sensei certainly does - she’s adept at teaching visually through her demonstrations and through words.  She switches between the two seeminglessly throughout a demo, maximizing the amount of information coming out of her. 

I hope to teach aikido one day.  It’ll be awhile I think.  Helping my kohais is a good start.  And understanding how everyone learns differently will definitely help.

Recently, a nikyu from another local dojo joined our dojo.  I won’t go into the reasons why she did the move.  Suffice to say that there were elements of the old dojo that convinced her that she needed to train elsewhere.  As I watch her attempt to adjust to the new community that is our dojo, I can’t help but feel sympathy.  It seems she is struggling really hard to fit in - both in terms of waza and socially.  It reminds me very much of my own attempt to start anew when I moved to Seattle from San Francisco Bay Area four years ago. 

I was a 3rd kyu then.  Two Cranes Aikido, in hindsight, was a good fit for me because at the time, I was really into the teachings of Takeda Shihan.  My ukemi was well suited to the dojo’s energetic waza.  I think that was the key.  I didn’t feel like I had to adjust a whole lot ukemi or waza wise.  Also, and this is also important - I was prepared to start over.  That meant giving up my 3rd kyu if need be and starting over as a white belt.  I had no problem with that since it’s the training that was important, not the rank. 

I think a lot of this nikyu’s difficulty is in her expectations of how she’d fit into the dojo and what she expects to accomplish.  Based on my conversations with her, it seems she expected to be treated like a nikyu, even though she has only trained at the dojo for a few weeks.  I told her that it takes time for Sensei to get an idea of her skill level.  This is particularly so given that the style of her old dojo is vastly different from ours. 

But I can see where’s she coming from.  It’s typical of westerners to expect something like rank to carry over from place to place.  But in the world of aikido, and martial arts in general, that is not always the case.  There are many factors such as whether you’re moving to a dojo that’s in the same organization as your old dojo.  If so, you may very well be able to keep the rank since testing standards are the same.  Ultimately, I think, the decision rests with the Sensei.  And that’s where the assumption you’ll have to start anew comes into play.  It can be tricky to ask to keep your current rank.  There is the etiquette factor - generally, it’s bad form to ask.  There is also, as I mentioned before, the skill factor - is this student up to the dojo’s standard for the rank?  As the student, it is always safe to assume you’ll have to start over.  In fact, if you do ask Sensei about your current rank, it’s a good idea to start off by stating your willingness to be a white belt - not only out of respect for Sensei but also as a way to show your earnestness as a new student.

The other difficulty that I think the nikyu is experiencing is the challenge of fitting in socially.  Our dojo community is fairly close.  We are definitely friendly but sometimes, we are more friendly to each other than to “outsiders” like the nikyu.  I hate to make this comparison but it is very much like high school.  Again, my heart goes out to her.  I hated high school and I hate trying to fit in anywhere socially.  To tell you the truth, given my general unease with social situations, I wonder how I ever fitted into the community in the first place.  Maybe someone at the dojo can tell me.  In any case, I understand what she’s going through.  But the fact that I was able to acclimate myself means that it is possible. 

My advice to this nikyu is to be patient.  Just train.  If there is one constant at any dojo, in any martial art, it is the respect you get by being a good student.  Train often.  Train hard.  Help around the dojo if you have time.  People will see it. Sensei will see it.  All the other stuff - rank, social status, etc - will come in time.  In the end, it is what you learn from the art that’s important.  The color of your belt is just that - a color. 

It’d be a shame if this nikyu quits.  It’ll all work out if she just hang in there.

I spent this past weekend at the North Seattle Community College, training with folks from all over the world at the Endo seminar. Among the people there was Jean Rene-Leduc Sensei from Nelson, British Colombia. He’s a 5th dan and a student of Takeda Shihan. I try to take ukemi from him whenever I can since he’s the closest to touching Takeda Shihan without going to Japan. Usually, I have a blast getting thrown by him. But for some reason, not this time. I kept walking right into his “space”, crossing lines he’s drawn. Good ukes should be able to see these lines and move accordingly. I didn’t. Not only that, he said I was sluggish, out of shape.

I was very demoralized afterwards. Why? Because I used to be able to take the Takeda style ukemi. This particular ukemi is very high energy and requires sharp sensitivity to “lines” drawn by nage. It is not a very martial ukemi, at least not superficially. But it is ukemi specifically suited to the waza practiced by Takeda Shihan and his students. I used to be good at it. Now I’m not. Which by itself is not a big thing. But it seems I’ve psychologically linked my ukemi ability directly to my ability to take this specific style of ukemi. All of sudden, I began to doubt my ability to take ukemi from anyone. Yikes! The last thing you want is to lose your confidence when taking ukemi. It’s a sure way to get hurt.

It is natural to be attached to some image of yourself, particularly if that image is a positive one. In most instances, I suspect it’s a good thing. But in my case, all it took was one example of how that image is flawed and - poof! - what was once positive became an instant negative. And if you have any other images tied to this one image - watch out! Better call your therapist.

I’ve been noticing a similar attachment lately at work. I’m a software engineer - a programmer who write computer code for a living. I just had my performance review. It was glowing - I’m dependable, communicate well, and write bug-free code. My managers throw praises like there’s no tommorrow. I am, by nature, a very humble person. But I have to say that it’s very hard not to give in to this extremely positive image that my bosses seem to have of me. Pretty soon, I’m going to think I’m indispensable, that I deserve a six figure salary, that I should take a six month sabbatical, confident that my job will still be around because … you know, I’m a rock star.

I know I’m not. I know that because of the number of bugs our Quality Assurance department send my way. I’m not perfect. Just like I’m not perfect with my ukemi. I will always need to work on it. Fortunately, I trained with other skilled aikidokas this past weekend. My ukemi was just fine with them. I know this because they told me how much fun it was training with me afterwards. So I guess I don’t suck entirely.

I learned a lot at the Endo seminar. It was a treat to be taught by Endo Sensei. But the most important lesson for me is the danger of being attached to any one image or thing. In aikido, we are taught to not grab our ukes; to not focus so much attention on our hands and feet; to keep your head up and to look out at the horizon - all are tips on how not to be attached as you do your technique. So too should we similarly not be attached when off the mat.

I am reminded of a phrase from the book Way of the Peaceful Warrior by Dan Millman.  It’s not an exact quote but it goes something along the line, “See things for what they are, not what you want them to be.”  Only then can you deal with life objectively, opening up options that you otherwise would not have if you commit to one way or another.  When you think about it, isn’t that one of the core teachings of aikido? 

On Tuesday, several aikidokas from abroad visited our dojo.  Among them is Matti Joensuu Sensei, 6th dan and chief instructor of Kimusubi Dojo in Austria. 

I trained with him a little that day doing shomen-uchi suwari-waza at the start of class.  At the time, I had no idea he was a sensei and a 6th dan.  I did notice that he run lines similar to those of Takeda Sensei.  It’s very apparent in suwari-waza as I found myself often stretched from tip of my fingers to my toes while on one knee - fun stuff.  I later found out he is a student of Endo Sensei (who is teaching in Seattle this weekend).  Endo Sensei comes from the same lineage as Yamaguchi Sensei who is Takeda Sensei’s teacher.  That would explain the similarity.

Yet, as you would expect, he has his own style.  I found that out the next day when I attended class at Aikido at Willapa Bay.  Joensuu Sensei was the guest instructor.   We worked a bit on ukemi - front and back rolling to standing position, facing nage.  But the fun part was when he had us throwing two ukes at a time.  Of course, we didn’t start out doing that.  We first worked on standard katate-dori kokyu-nage.  The emphasis was on relaxing, then moving into uke’s center to connect - not so much that you push uke but enough to touch his center.  Then you move with your center, the elbows lifting not because you’re consciously lifting them but because it’s a natural result of you moving forward.

Maintaining the connection throughout the technique was something he emphasized over and over again.  This was especially important when I attempted to do ikkyo with two ukes hanging onto my one arm.  There’s the dropping of the elbow of course.  Relaxing is very important.  There has to be weight in your arm, settling slightly.  Then the connection is made by moving into uke’s center - except that with two ukes, the center is somewhere in between the two of them.  Once you’ve broken their balance, you move around to do ikkyo.  If you lose the connection when you move, it won’t work.  You have to keep them off balance the entire time.  Interesting stuff.

Then we moved on to throwing two ukes, one on each arm.  Joensuu Sensei said to imagine our arms like pendulum - like what we do with our arms during warm up as we swing them side to side.  The only difference is that you have an uke on each arm.  The arms are relaxed with weight underneath.  Then the hips move, swinging one arm forward while the other swing in the opposite direction.  Not entirely sure if that’s how he did it.  It’s what I saw.  It worked for me - the few times it did work anyways :)

It was a fun class over all.  The one thing that struck me was his humbleness.  When we all clapped at the end of class, he quickly waved us to stop.  You can tell he was embarassed.  Even more telling was how he kept telling us during class that it’s ok if we want to stop training and just watch, especially if we feel frustrated.  It’s as if he’s telling us that what he’s teaching is not for everyone and that it’s ok if we don’t do it - it won’t upset him.  That was new to me.   He’s not attached at all.  He seems to me to be someone who never intended to be a teacher but became one because of his incredible skill.  Teachers like him are the best I think.  No ego.  Just a desire to share what they know. 

It’s been a real treat to meet Joensuu Sensei and his friends from abroad.  I have to say that prior to Tuesday, I was feeling particularly uninspired in my aikido practice.   Sometimes you need a kick in the pants to get things started up again.  These visitors were especially inspiring.  It’s as if my body woke up.  For the first time in awhile, I realize how much fun ukemi can be, especially when thrown by people as skilled as they are.  They will all be at Endo’s seminar this weekend.  I can’t wait to train with them again.