The August 2010 newsletter has been published.
Please post any feedback, comments, or questions below.
Before Zen crossed the shores into Japan, the students of the Tendai school would study meditation, as part of their daily practice. Four of them, close friends all, promised one another to observe seven days of silence.
On the first day, no words were spoken, and the students took pleasure in their auspicious beginning. When night came however, the oil lamps grew dim, and the room slowly darkened.
One student, named Hoshin, called out to a servant: "Servant! Attend to the lamps, so that I might better observe our accomplishment!"
The second student was surprised to hear Hoshin speak. "We are supposed to keep quiet," he chided.
"But you also spoke!" declared the third. "You are an idiot!"
"I am the only one who has not talked," concluded the fourth, as he settled into seiza.
The August 2010 newsletter has been published.
Please post any feedback, comments, or questions below.
Much has been posted over the years on training and the inevitable injuries that follow. Aikido has its roots in brutal martial arts designed to kill and maim, tested and refined under combat over centuries. Despite Aikido’s goal of harmony and non-injury, it remains a very powerful martial art that can cause serious injury in short order.
I’ve seen a lot of different injuries on the mat over my 15 years of training, from stubbed toes to broken bones. Fortunately, even the worst of these injuries were manageable and not permanent. But they all require attention and cause for concern. Any injury represents a setback from training, which for Aikidoka is The Way, our path to enlightenment and our contribution to restoring harmony in the world.
I was the cause of a recent injury that took my uke off the mat holding his shoulder. It looked bad at the time, like something that would keep him off the mat for a few weeks at least, probably more. I’ve heard since that the injury wasn’t so bad, but I still haven’t seen him back on the mat. I feel responsible and I should, because I am. Despite uke’s insistence that they took bad ukemi, I want to make the point strongly that it is up to nage to take care of uke—always and without exception.
I think this is the first time it has happened on my watch. I didn’t realize when it happened; it was jiu waza and we were training fast. But I clearly lost my focus and a bad injury resulted. My apology cannot make up for uke’s lost time on the mat or their discouragement.
I would offer a few suggestions to help avoid injury:
Editor’s note: As well as teaching at the dojo, Buck is the President of Pittman Landscape Architecture, a Jacksonville based land planning firm.
Dee received word Monday morning that Sugano Sensei passed on Sunday, August 29th, from complications related to diabetes and cancer. This is difficult news; I’m finding, as I type this, that I’m completely unable to make sense of my own thoughts. Our sadness is palpable.
We plan, at some point, to convey to you some of our memories of Sensei. Right now, though, I can’t.
I read the International Aiki Peace Week article on the USAF website recently and the following statements struck a memory chord.
“Aikido is uniquely valuable for practicing peace because attack/defense drills offer the opportunity to rouse the demons of fear and anger, and then to train oneself to receive an opponent in a kind, harmonious and grounded way. Aikido training gradually makes this reaction into our default response in times of stress, conflict, or attack.”
What are the unique aspects of Aikido training that fosters the opportunity noted above? I believe there are two essential aspects to this: one is non-competition and the other is a learning environment (uke helping nage and nage helping uke). These two principles structure the nature of our practice and how we respond during practice.
It took awhile before I experienced fear and anger during my Aikido practice. In the beginning, my mind was completely occupied with learning the basic forms – this goes here, then that there, etc. After some time, I got to a point where I had gained enough technical skill so my physical response was semi-automatic, but not quite. And during this time I was practicing with many yudansha who knew where my margin of comfort was so they would go just beyond it when in the role of either uke or nage.
So there were moments of awareness during a “beyond the margin” attack that I felt (and saw) fear arise, like a wave on the ocean, but due to the principles of our structured practice was able to observe, let go and see it disappear. This occurred with anger also. The trick for execution of technique when fear or anger arise is to not lose one’s form (execute the technique form precisely and dispassionately). In the case of fear, do not become weak and unable to move. And in the case of anger avoid the tendency for retribution.
In the inner dojo, fear and anger become the uke. Silence (the hara) becomes nage. The technique is to favor silence, connecting uke to your hara, and allow fear and anger to dissolve into that silence. An ukemi of fear and anger is a falling into dissolution.
Joey has a size 5 gi that he is willing to sell for $30.00. It’s never been worn, but has been washed once. The gi is a judo style gi, the kind we wear in class, and is constructed from a high quality weave. (The pants, however, need a string for it to fit securely around your waist. Joey can help you with this.)
If you’re interested in purchasing this fine piece of apparel, please let Sensei know. The gi itself is at the dojo if you want to inspect the goods personally.
And no, the gi does not come with Joey’s black belt or his nidan rank.