Learning To Be Silent

Our thanks to Grady Lane Sensei, who taught our morning class and stayed for the misogi training. Thanks also to our friends from the Aikido Center of Savannah, who made the trip from SCAD.

Aikido Center of Jacksonville, circa 1996

In 1992, the band got together in a small dance studio off San Jose. They came to practice a new kind of martial art, the idea of which was revolutionary: A martial art meant for peace, not fighting.

In a city full of karate and tae kwon do studios, they had no business starting this new type of school. Just who the hell did they think they were, anyway?

But they did it.

Thank you Curtis, and Chris, wherever you are. Here’s to the next twenty years.

Rock on.

After class, Dee and I had a lovely lunch with Lawrence, our resident Senior Samurai. During our conversation we spoke about a topic that I think merits a brief post.

I had recounted to Lawrence a few experiences on the mat when I was genuinely afraid. Not worried, or put off, but legitimately scared, if only for a moment. It’s happened a few times in my Aikido career and I believe I am the better martial artist for it.

The fear I am speaking about is the total loss of control I’ve felt when thrown with vigor by a high ranking practitioner. Specifically, when I’ve had no idea what to expect, and was projected with power into the mat. The kind of technique that, had my ukemi failed, would have resulted in a serious fracture. Of course, looking back, I realize that the control my nages were exercising would not have allowed a truly debilitating injury. But at the time? Scared senseless.

There are lessons here on several levels, both on the mat and off. The main point, however, is this: You face your fear, and you survive the technique.

I think it’s crucial for our students to look for these opportunities, especially at seminars. Not recklessly, mind you—there are brutes out there whose connection with uke is—how shall I put it?—a bit lacking. And of course there are those less experienced practitioners whose ability to instill fear is caused by the fact that they don’t know what the heck they’re doing. Which of course is dangerous.

But the ability to face the unknown and survive, I think, is an important lesson in budo. In the best of circumstances, it may even spark a reexamination of your own practice, and what Aikido as a martial art actually is, rather than what your dogma may have led you to believe.

Dee and I are thrilled with all the positive feedback we’ve received about the new website. From what you’re telling us, it’s easier to navigate, simpler to use, and a more refined experience. Thank you!

And in the spirit of the season, here are a few more things we’re thankful for.

We’re thankful for our friends and students, and all the help we’ve received at the dojo.

We’re thankful that we get to practice this wonderful martial art, year in and year out.

We’re thankful for all the friends we’ve met through Aikido, from all walks of life.

We’re thankful for Grady Lane Sensei’s class this past Saturday, and the camaraderie following class at the superlative 5 Guys restaurant.

And yes, we’re even thankful for that crazy awesome choke Sensei demonstrated, that resulted in me seeing stars for a few moments on the mat. (And I have it on good authority that one of our higher ups suggested that idea to Sensei, saying “those guys in Jacksonville love chokes”).

So, to everyone, thank you.