Aikiblog

Mind Body Duelism

2011-07-30T10:40:00.003+01:00

Tongue in cheek title, but most will know what I mean.

Building a Bridge Between Heaven and Earth

2011-07-30T10:38:00.001+01:00

This is part of a much larger work that I have been writing. Just a sample to get some reaction.

Some Reflections

2011-07-11T19:57:00.000+01:00

Aikido is for everybody; but not everybody is for Aikido.

There may be moral and spiritual benefits from adhering to an essentially feudal form of practice like Budo, and I am sure that this is true for some. For a few individuals, Budo is a practice that is intrinsically rewarding; it transcends both time and circumstance, at least for those who are romantically inclined. It exudes universal values and principles of harmony and connection. This is its attraction. But who is it attracting?

If we look dispassionately at the structure of Budo, it is no different from the kind of structure we see in Herman Hesse’s novel ‘The Glass Bead Game’. At the top of the heap there are a small number of high priests (shihans), whose exalted position is both secure and precarious; they depend for their very existence on the strata below and for that reason they cannot afford to be complacent or relax their vigilance too much: the Tao Te Ching reminds us that what rises also falls. The entire system only works if everyone, or a significant majority, ‘plays the game’.

In reality, of course, it (Budo) cannot help but reflect the environment in which it is located. Human beings are not perfect or even sure of what it is they aspire to become in pursuing endless avenues of self-development. O Sensei once said that “the great path is really no path at all.” Most people are playing a game; whether it is a ‘serious’ one or a ‘frivolous’ one does not really matter.

We know that we are playing a game when we get angry with our playmates for not playing the game properly. But what is ‘proper’? It changes all the time. In reality the path is so wide that we cannot even call it a path any longer. This can be scary; there is nothing to hang on to. To compensate we become more rigid and insistent, the path narrows and convention and habit becomes confused with discipline.

We all know that eventually we will let go, but we put it off. People that are attracted to Budo are people who are fearful, for one reason or another. Paradoxically, to make progress we are required to let go of fear. An ordinary human being is someone who is fearful; however, some people are afraid of being an ordinary human being. What a dilemma.

Laughter and tears are two sides of the same coin. If we are really connected to the universe, the only person we can be angry with is ourselves. For that reason, and for no other, we have no choice but to give everybody a break. I think it is called compassion.

If Aikido is to be of any benefit to anyone it must be outside the dojo. The benefits must spill into the world where it will do most good, rather than setting up another ‘Glass Bead Game’. Change is on its way. There can be no doubt of that. Aikido itself is continually undergoing change and may even become something else entirely.

I sympathise with the author who, like the old Zen teacher complaining about his students, was really complaining about his own condition:
“My students are not good, I can no longer hit them as hard as I used to and the dharma is suffering.”

The History of Ki in Asian Martial Arts: From Shamanism to Stress Management

2010-02-15T17:08:00.000Z

Nowadays, large corporations include stress busting techniques derived from ancient systems as part of everyday stress management practice.

While the rattles, totems and drums of the traditional shaman may be an anachronism today, many of the characteristics and skills of the shaman are still very much in demand. From the charismatic motivational speaker at corporate events, to the Feng Shui consultant helping to construct a modern office block, ancient beliefs still influence the modern world.

What is Qigong?

Ki (Chi in Chinese), according to the Yi Jing (Book of Changes 1122 B.C.) is the life force that enables all life in the universe to function. The ‘gong’ element is simply the practical skills and knowledge developed by practitioners over time and passed from master to student down through the ages. Typically, Qigong (pronounced chee-gung) is used to gather and store Ki to promote health, to channel and direct the Ki energy for the purpose of healing, and promote spiritual growth and enlightenment for the individual practitioner.

Qigong consists of a series, or sets, of exercises emphasising posture, movement, breathing and visualisation carried out in a meditative and relaxed manner. The movements are slow and graceful and take considerable practice to perfect.

Historical Background of Ki Arts

Selling Water by the River: An Eastern Paradigm Shift

2010-02-01T21:01:00.002Z

Eastern traditions have a unique way of understanding the movement of energy, which Western traditions have difficulty in accommodating within their rationalist world view.

There is a story in Zen literature of two people meeting by the banks of a river. One is a passing traveller, and the other is a Zen master. When the traveller asked what he was doing, the Zen master replied: “selling water by the river”.

Training The Vital Centre

Teaching the power of Ki is like this. Ki is everywhere and freely available. A teacher cannot give Ki to someone. One has it already, but normally one is unaware of its potential. Training in Aikido is a way to unlock this potential, and to make one more consciously aware of what it is to be fully human and alive.

Zen training and Aikido share a common purpose: the realisation of one’s ‘true nature’. Both are vehicles to attain this end; and although the forms of training may differ in some important respects, there are some common features.

The most relevant, in the context of Aikido, is the cultivation of mind body development that in the Zen tradition leads to the growth of ‘Jiriki’ (concentrative or spiritual power), and in Budo terms is simply called Ki. In Japan the colloquialism ‘training the belly’ generically refers to the martial arts, and reflects the belief that Ki is stored in an area of the lower abdomen, the seika tanden.

It is through the cultivation of ‘Jiriki’ that one can develop insight into one’s ‘true nature’. Implicit within all of the Arts of Japan is the Zen principle of ‘original mind’, or ‘true nature’. This is the belief that each one of us already has a higher nature that can be realised through the practice of mind body development. Aikido is a form of mind body development.

Definitions and Limitations

But here caution is required, definitions cannot be relied upon to provide too much in the way of explanation. In fact, over reliance on them can easily lead one astray. They can become so general, or so abstract, that they become either meaningless, or inaccessibly esoteric. The kanji, or written character for Ki, for example, is defined in Japanese dictionaries as:

Ki - Breath with rice; breathing rice; steaming rice.

Other definitions describe Ki as the generative life force of Heaven and Earth that governs reproduction. While the first definition is obviously analogous - Ki is like rice, and without it there would be no life - the second is too general.

Ki appears to be a kind of life force. A fuller account of Ki would involve going into the complexities of ancient Chinese cosmology, Taoism and Buddhism, and fascinating though this may be it will not aid practical understanding.

Founder of Aikido

The founder of Aikido peppered his training lectures with aspects of Shinto shamanism that few, if any, could really understand. Yamaoka Tesshu, the renowned Japanese Sword, Zen and Calligraphy Master said, “In order to understand if the water is hot or cold, first you must taste it”. The emphasis here is on personal experience - feeling what it is actually like. Ki can be taught and understood as a ‘feeling’, and can be experienced by anyone regardless of gender, race, age or physical disposition. Read More

What is Aikido?

2010-02-01T17:10:00.002Z

When I went to Japan in 2007, I learned that one must find one’s own way in Aikido, regardless of style, affiliation, or teacher. Two teachers confirmed this, one ancient (85), and one relatively modern (53), each separately affirming what the other said without any collusion and without ever having met. I did not ask them a direct question, but they seemed to know what I was looking for.

Now it makes much more sense than it did at the time – I seem to learn the important things by a sort of slow release process, in contrast with my cultural disposition and desire for everything right now. My own few students are always (the few that I have) asking questions about things that they will not be able to understand for a while, but this seems too patronising to say to them, so I try my best to answer their questions in the full knowledge that it won’t help them. When they do understand, they will not even remember what I said.

Aikido is made up of two elements, and not three, as is commonly supposed in translation – ai-ki-do. It is ‘aiki – do’. The two elements are confusingly both separate and unified simultaneously. They are not, in the language beloved of sociologists and psychobabblists ‘interdependent’, or ‘symbiotic’, or any other pseudo- scientific or pseudo-ancient term.

In a sense, the way that the terms have been used from 1969 onwards pretty much sum up the history of Aikido. While O Sensei wasn’t much bothered about what it was called, he agreed to settle on the name Aikido - it seemed reasonable at the time.

At the time of the big schism - two guys arguing about the one thing - the agreement was to go their separate ways with their separate understanding. The ai – ki – do side, almost sounding like the tapping of a sculptor wielding a chisel, was castigated by the other ki side as being stiff and unyielding. The ki side talked about aikido as soft, smooth and flowing, and this seemed so ethereal to the other side that as realists, with the true blood connection, they had to question its authenticity. What developed subsequently was a marketing war, and as we know some you win, some you lose.

But aiki was really the thing, but only one could use the term and you had to practice for ever before anyone would reveal it to you. The ki crowd were teaching aiki too, but they called it ki, because it was different? Again you had to practice for ever to understand it, because it was claimed that no one could understand it?

(As a side note, we now know that aiki was being taught by other schools not connected to Aikido, so there’s really no foundation for treating it as exclusively the possession of anyone style within Aikido)

So there you have it, the over simplified history of Aikido: two groups of people arguing about the same thing, which neither could understand, and even if they did, were not going to tell anyone about it unless they knew them for at least a whole lifetime. And people wonder why no one takes Aikido seriously!

Aiki, although the subject of infinitely variable definitions, can be broadly and inadequately defined as unifying ones energy or intent with that of one’s partner within the framework of prescribed forms. When sufficiently aiki adept at those forms, then one is able to practice at the level of Takemuse Aiki, or spontaneous creation of technique - the implicit assumption being that if one can internalise the principles contained within the kata, then there is no technique, no posture and no mind. This can lead, or at least put one in the right direction to, the ‘way’, wherein one can find both the source and reason for existence.

Teachers cannot give this to their students, but can act as guides for students to find it within themselves. Not all teachers are able do this and some that can purposely withhold it in order to keep their dojos or organisations full. With aiki, quality is the keyword, and not quantity. In order to teach it effectively, it requires considerable one-to-one input from a teacher. This naturally obviates against large classes.

The principle of Sho-Ha-Ri inevitably entails students moving on and starting up on their own. Teachers that are unable to guide their students in the aiki way are often heard espousing the value of basics ad-nauseum. They are like builders who can only construct foundations, but not houses, or like a music teacher that refuses to go beyond the basic scales and exercises – their students will never make music of their own.

The do element is a highly subjective one. It is one’s life, and although linked to Aikido, in the sense that Aikido can help prepare one to find one’s way in terms of helping to develop an aiki sensibility, Aikido is not one’s life. For some the opposite may be true, but that is a type of attachment and is placing the cart before the horse.

The aiki forms, or techniques designed to elicit aiki skills, are a kind of objective correlative. They reflect one’s subjective condition or mind. In the same way that a teacher of calligraphy can tell a students condition by their brush work, or a Zen teacher by someone’s posture, an accomplished Aikido teacher can see more than just a shihonage.

The aiki element is where a teacher can help as a guide; the do element is where the student is on their own working with the teacher within. An insightful teacher understands when the two diverge and can marvel at the wonder of human nature.

Hara and Aikido - by Alister Gillies

2010-01-13T22:43:00.000Z

Is Aikido a relatively modern martial art that tacitly acknowledges links with its Koryu (Japanese Classical Budo Arts) antecedents? Or is Aikido a form of Haragei - the cultivation and development of Hara in the activity of Aikido? These are important questions: how individuals or groups define themselves determines their disposition and character - “man construes himself, and disposes himself accordingly.”

If Aikido is construed as Haragei, then it is possible to locate it firmly within a broad cultural tradition that encapsulates both modern Aikido, Koryu arts, Zen training and many other art forms that have no direct martial application. If Aikido is viewed as something other, separated out from its cultural source, then problems of definition and distinctions between styles are naturally bound to arise. This might go some way to explain why there is such a lack of consensus about what Aikido is, and why there seems to be endless political disputes within and between different factions.

There are many arts in Japan, each very different from the other. They coexist without too much fractiousness because they all have a common purpose, albeit expressed in different forms, and with different conventions and rituals. Loosely, they are “belly arts”, or Haragei – the cultivation of Hara in a chosen activity. This could be tea, theatre, flower arranging, archery, and so on.

The test of whether something is Haragei or not is determined, amongst other things, by its longevity – does it stand the test of time? Does it function as a way of enriching one’s life in the present; is it meaningful and rewarding in itself; and does it extend beyond itself and filter into one’s daily life and society at large?

The ‘Way of harmony and Peace’ as envisaged by the founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, is a far cry from the reality of Aikido as it is today. There are ‘styles’ of Aikido that look backwards to a definitive form that was sculpted in the past, and there are other, more forward looking approaches, that see the art as evolving continuously.

In between these extremes there are many different shades and complexions. It might be argued - and it often is - that there are common principles that draw the disparate strands of Aikido together. But these, too, are open to interpretation.

Cultural Roots of Haragei

Typically, Haragei arts have the following in common: a reliance on direct oral transmission and practical example from master to student. The bulk of developmental work, in terms of making progress, requires a prodigious commitment from the student. Teachers do not inculcate in the pedagogical style that we are accustomed to in the west, they facilitate and guide. The student is responsible almost entirely for their own learning.

As a Haragei art Aikido, from this phenomenological perspective, partakes of and contributes to a shared Japanese cultural world view. It is a view that has its own particular units of meaning, and can only be fully understood with reference to that system of meaning. To understand this requires doing, rather than intellectualising. One’s ethnicity or cultural origin is not relevant in a form of teaching that seeks to elicit an apprehension of the universal nature of man through activity.

Inside Out?

This learning model, as a result of its opacity, has presented many difficulties for Aikido teachers from the west. Although there are exceptions, many occidental teachers have attempted to transcribe traditional Japanese teaching methods within a rational framework, emphasizing the ‘laws of physics’, ‘force vectors’, ‘mechanics’, and so on.

In so doing, there is a danger that the ‘baby may have been thrown out with the bath water’. While this kind of explanation of Aikido techniques may be clearer to the intellect, it unfortunately remains true that you cannot defend yourself with an explanation: “when pointing at the moon, do not mistake the finger for the moon”, a Zen proverb admonishes.

The benefits of explaining Aikido via the ‘rational paradaigm’ approach are immediately apparent from a Western student’s perspective. They naturally feel that they have learned something. This is how they are accustomed to learning. From the Japanese Haragei approach, students who learn in this way have only learned ‘about’ the thing, but not the ‘thing in itself’ – the “dasein” of Aikido, in Husserlian terms. To really learn something from the Haragei view point takes time. How much time? How long is a piece of string?

Haragei is often described in corporate ‘negotiation skills courses’ as a strategy of non verbal communication employed by Japanese corporate executives, with hidden cues and clues that only the initiated can understand. It is much more than this and such narrow definitions can be very misleading. The cultivation of Hara is an integral part of one’s life, not a negotiation tool. If Hara is used in negotiations, it is because Hara is used in one’s life.

Hara: The Vital Centre of Man

In his book Hara: The Vital Centre of Man, philosopher and Zen practitioner Karlfried Graf Dürckheim says that when Haragei is cultivated:

“an all-around transformation of all one’s faculties takes place, unhindered by the limitations of the five senses and the intellect. One perceives reality more sensitively, is able to take in perceptions in a different way, assimilates them and therefore reacts differently and, finally radiates something different…The three fundamental reactions to life and the world—perception, assimilation, and response—change in the direction of an expansion, deepening, and intensifying of the whole personality.”

Dürckheim’s book describes Haragei as a quality of presence in which the sensibility of the belly is fully integrated into any activity, from the subtle ritual of the traditional tea ceremony to the focused intent of an archer drawing their bow, or the graceful stroke of a calligrapher’s brush. It is present in Aikido when the art is cultivated to its optimum level.

Aikido and Haragei

Examples of this kind of highly developed Aikido can be found in old film footage of the founder of Aikido, Kodo Horikawa (Daito Ryu), Noriaki Inoue (Shin Taido), and Gozo Shioda (all former students of Sokaku Takeda) to name but a few. It can also be seen in the Aikido of Yoshinobu Takeda and a few other contemporary teachers. But it is not easily understood.

It often draws negative reactions from Westerners who do not understand what is going on. Typically, they may comment that it’s ‘fake’, ‘contrived’, ‘choreographed’, or that ‘this kind of stuff’ contributes to the perception that Aikido is not a ‘serious martial art’.

On one level, failure to understand the function and purpose of Haragei arts as part of the rich cultural heritage of another country can result in a missed opportunity for our own learning and enrichment. On another, statements uttered from an incomplete understanding of those cultural sources, can present Westerners in a less than flattering light.

This is not so much a problem now as it was in the past, since many younger Japanese do not understand it very well either. The traditional arts in Japan have been in decline for some time, though like everything else this is probably cyclical and the interest may be re-emerging, as exemplified in the growing interest in Akira Hino and Yoshinori Kono.

Teaching and Learning

Within this tradition of Haragei, the emphasis has always been on what D.T. Suzuki described as radical empiricism - find out for yourself! From this point of view, it is not surprising that the Founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba (and other Japanese teachers since his time), did not explain what he was teaching beyond the necessary forms of kata.

Some Japanese teachers, somewhat mystifyingly from a Western perspective, even assert that they will take what they know with them when they die. This is incomprehensible to the average Westerner, and perhaps some modern day Japanese, too. But it is perfectly in line with a mode of teaching in which the student bears most of the weight of the learning process. It can’t be any other way. Haragei is not something a teacher can give to a student.

If one accepts that Aikido has a history, and it undoubtedly has, then it is clear that: Morihei Ueshiba underwent an apprenticeship, drawing his martial skills from a variety of sources and teachers within the world of classical Budo.

Throughout his life Morihei Ueshiba continued to refine and develop those skills, while others took responsibility for the creation of modern Aikido, most notably Kisshomaru Ueshiba and others from Aikikai Hombu, Gozo Shioda, Koichi Tohei and Morihiro Saito. Many other teachers dispersed to other parts of the world to make Aikido what it is today.

Each one of the Founder’s students went on to develop their own style of Aikido that, while sharing the common name Aikido, became quite distinct from one another. It might seem to a beginner approaching Aikido for the first time that the ‘Way of Harmony’ is fraught with contradiction and contention. And they would not be completely wrong. But from the perspective of Haragei it all makes sense – it enfolds unity and diversity within its perspective without contradiction.

“Equality without discrimination is poor equality; discrimination without equality is poor discrimination” - Chinese mirror verse.

The Great Path

The path of Haragei, of which Aikido and other arts are a part is broad, with a long tradition and history – it goes as far back as Bodhidharma, and is certainly contained in the Soto Zen tradition of Dogen that came from China and flowered in Japan. It is deeply interwoven into the fabric of the culture and psyche of the Japanese people. Haragei is any activity in which one develops the Hara.

‘One Point, ‘Seika Tanden’ and ‘Centre’ are terms commonly found in Aikido. But these terms do not fully convey the significance of Hara. They are starting points at the beginning level from which the student can progress, as Dürckheim explains, to experience the “ground of being” and its connection to the “totality of being” in activities of everyday life.

The Founder of Aikido alludes to such an experience in his verse, framed in his own idiosyncratic style:

“Create each day anew by clothing yourself with heaven and earth, bathing yourself with wisdom and love, and placing yourself in the heart of Mother Nature.”

Every time an Aikido student sits in seiza or bows, they are practicing Haragei – bowing and seiza are extremely important. It is useful, however, to have a teacher that knows how to teach students to do this properly. Spectacular throws can be impressive, but in terms of ‘belly art’, what is not so obvious is so much more impressive.

Aikido is a young art, comparatively speaking, and its future survival – in whatever form it takes – will be determined by how ‘settled’ it becomes. Endless disputation and schism may be part of this ‘settling’ process, but from a Haragei perspective it is of limited functional use. The purpose of the Haragei arts and Aikido is, as Morihei Ueshiba stated of Aikido:

“It is not for correcting others; it is for correcting your own mind.”

©Alister Gillies 02/01/2010

Breathing for Life - Ki Breathing

2009-12-27T00:19:00.000Z

This is a good exercise to do. If you can make this a regular practice it can alter the way you breathe in your everyday life. Try a cycle of ten inhalations and exhalations and see how you feel. Read More

Hara - The Vital Centre of Man

2009-12-25T14:06:00.006Z

The central problem that Dürckheim seeks to address in Hara – The Vital Centre of Man is the spiritual decay in the West that has resulted from an excessive dependence on rationalism. While conventional Western religious practice - in Dürckheim’s view – cannot resolve this problem, he argues that there are techniques derived from Eastern spiritual practice that can.

Whereas the Western attitude to the body is a “chest-out-belly-in” approach, the Eastern view is from the ‘belly up’. Hara denotes not only the abdominal area, but a way of living, or Haragei – activity perfected through Hara. The Tanden, an area in the lower abdomen below the navel, is traditionally regarded as the seat of vital energy in Japan and China. Read more

Reason for Life - Happiness

2009-12-21T04:59:00.006Z

“Happiness is our natural heritage as human beings", according to the Dalai Lama, but doesn't Buddhism tell us that we suffer because of attachment?

What is wrong with attachment? It could be argued that it’s not possible to live without love, affection, relationships and a whole gamut of needs and desires. It might even be supposed that it is precisely the satisfaction of these needs and desires that provides the motivation to live a full and happy existence.

Attachments are necessary and unavoidable. We can’t all retreat into the forest and live in a blissful state of nirvana…and so we may argue. But where does all this takes us? The reason for suffering, according to the Buddha, is ‘attachment’. At the root of attachment is desire. What do we desire? We desire the end of suffering.

Attachment can only argue from the viewpoint of attachment. It is a circle. But can we break out of it? The situation is analogous to a dog chasing its own tail. While this may be a temporary and amusing distraction, it inevitably results in boredom. For the dog, this is only a game - unless it is disturbed in some way. Human beings do the same thing, but unlike the dog we are serious and we persist in behaving this way.

How many times do we go on repeating the same thing over and over again before we learn? The clients of therapists may be interested in working through the trauma of divorce, but they seldom acknowledge their own contribution to that divorce - even though it may be their third or fourth! An emotional band aid is secured, but the real problem is avoided.

Love is something that we want; affection becomes something that we demand; relationships become instrumental, a means of gratification or an antidote to loneliness; and lasting satisfaction is always just around the corner. We are seldom truly satisfied with our lot.

In the same way ‘happiness’ is treated like an object, a right enshrined in law, and in our haste to acquire it we forget the admonitions from our poets and singers, such as William Blake (“He that ….winged life destroy”) and Bob Dylan (“There’s no failure…success at all”).

We are born, we live and then we die. That is the nature and pattern of all living things. Our life is not a practice or a dress rehearsal - this is the real thing! Yet every day we engage in what can seem like an unending struggle, alerting us to the inescapable realisation that something is missing in our lives. What is that something? That something is happiness. It’s what we all seek. It is our reason for existence, and its loss our greatest sorrow.

Fight or flight seems to be our stock response to many of our everyday life situations, creating tension and stress and making each day a struggle, if not for material survival, then certainly to feel at home with ourselves, with our neighbours, and with our environment. Denial, blame and absorption in endless consumption and distractions do not assuage the pervasive sense of unsatisfactoriness that we can all feel from time to time.

We all want to find happiness in our lives. We search, and if we find it, it’s often a fleeting, transient phenomenon – nothing seems to last for long. Perhaps we need to change our approach in our search for that something that can be so elusive. Can we change ourselves - do we need to? Morihei Ueshiba, the Founder of the Japanese Martial Art of Aikido said that in order to find your 'true' self, you must "forget self".

There are many forms of self-cultivation that encourage self-realisation; cults and therapeutic regimes and systems abound to cater for our numerous neuroses. There are many prescriptions for attaining that which we lack - so we are informed. Are we really so bereft of resources? Of course training can help, but a teacher cannot give us what we don't already have:

Daiju visited the master Baso in China.

Baso asked: "What do you seek?"

"Enlightenment," replied Daiju.

"You have your own treasure house.

Why do you search outside?" Baso asked.

Daiju inquired: "Where is my treasure house?"

Baso answered: "What you are asking is your treasure house."

Daiju was delighted!

Ever after he urged his friends:

"Open your own treasure house and use those treasures."

George Bernard Shaw, commenting on the subject of happiness had this to say:

” We have no more right to consume happiness without producing it than to consume wealth without producing it."

We can change focus, shift the emphasis, and concentrate on the production of happiness rather than its consumption. If we find that we have some, then give it away! In this way there will be no shortage. It is after all the reason for life.

The Ox Herding pictures of the Zen tradition chart the developmental stages of liberation and end with a depiction of a fat, jolly priest with wine and trinkets. He is in the ‘market place (the world) and giving it all away. In other, notably Chinese traditions of Zen, this last stage is often portrayed as an empty circle - freedom.

Calling Card

2009-12-17T02:27:00.001Z

Keichu, the great Zen teacher of the Meiji era, was the head of Tofuku, a cathedral in Kyoto. One day the governor of Kyoto called upon him for the first time.

His attendant presented the card of the governor, which read: Kitagaki, Governor of Kyoto.

"I have no business with such a fellow," said Keichu to his attendant. "Tell him to get out of here."The attendant carried the card back with apologies. "That was my error," said the governor, and with a pencil he scratched out the words Governor of Kyoto. "Ask your teacher again."

"Oh, is that Kitagaki?" exclaimed the teacher when he saw the card. "I want to see that fellow."

My Aikido Background

2009-12-16T18:30:00.004Z

I began practicing Aikido in 1982 in Glasgow. My interest in Aikido came directly from my interest and practice of meditation - Soto Zen. I had studied and practiced Zazen for many years, attended Sesshins, and went on retreats. But I wasn't entirely satisfied. There was something missing.

When I first encountered Aikido it was if a light had been switched on. In a strange way I could understand exactly what was happening on the mat. It was many years later, however, before I could even begin to reproduce anything like those graceful and effortless movements - I'm still learning!

It seems to me now that while Zen is not Aikido, and Aikido is certainly not Zen, I am able to understand them both a little more. The 'not' of something can be very illuminating, and this is perhaps one of the reasons why I am uncomfortable with dogma, 'true ways', and definitive ways of doing things or understanding. It is contrary to my life experience and the nature of an ever-changing universe. My attitude towards Aikido is much the same.

There are many excellent teachers around and I have been fortunate to have the opportunity to learn from them. These include countless Ukes and Toris, Billy Coyle Sensei, Ken Williams Sensei, Okamoto Sensei (Daito Ryu Roppokai), Maitre Daniel Bran, Hamada Sensei, Sunadomari Sensei, Maruyama Sensei, Endo Sensei, Ueshiba Moriteru Doshu, Yamaguchi Tetsu Sensei,Yasuno Sensei, Yamashima Sensei, Ikeda Sensei, Tissier Sensei, Stephane Benedetti Sensei, Kanetsuka Sensei and Terry Ezra Sensei.

No matter how long or how short a time spent with these teachers each has contributed something, and I am grateful to them all. But all of these teachers have one thing in common: the 'way' of Aikido is not something that they can give to a student. People must find it for themselves! It is for this reason that I call the group that I teach Aikido Kenkyukai (research or experimental group). I like to encourage students to learn technique, look into it closely, and let it go.

In daily life there are many opportunities for development, and many forms of guidance along the way. In the dojo the mat is like a mirror for us, offering us the opportunity to develop fine tuning skills and elicit, from the practice of Aikido, glimpses of our true nature - a nature that is no different from the nature of the universe.

Of course we have to identify and let go of many things, our pride, self-will, egotism, stubbornness, etc. It is training for life. The training process of action and reflection never stops. It spills into our daily lives and life itself becomes our dojo. In time we realise that there has never been any separation. We are what we practice. Out of emptiness form manifests itself, and form dissolves into emptiness. The spontaneous expression of technique is no other than this. For me this is the joy of Aikido.

Aikido Training

2009-12-16T18:04:00.002Z

For students training in Aikido, it is possible to find Aiki; but this has very little to do with technique - though it is of course related.

Aikido is a ‘Way’, and therefore like all other ‘Ways’, a path of continuous development. Aiki, though difficult to define, could be described as a sensibility that has both physical and psycho-physical dimensions, emphasising both relaxation and an attitude of non-dissension - characteristics or qualities that are capable of infinite refinement.

O Sensei once commented on the way that people where training at Hombu: “When will you realise that there is no uke or Ueshiba”. When caught up in a dualistic way of seeing things there is an attacker and a defender. Training in Aikido can help to dissolve this sense of separateness.

From this pespective, one of unification, there is no bus, no driver, and no destination. On the other hand, in the every day world there are mat fees, gradings, rental payments, politics, etc. Reconciling these apparent differences is always a challenge - the Yin and Yang of it all. Personally, I just like to practice and explore the kata to see what it has to teach.

Buddhist Joke 3

2009-12-16T17:34:00.000Z

Q. Why did the Buddhist refuse to fill in the job application?

A. Because Form is Emptiness and Emptiness is Form.

Buddhist Joke 2

2009-12-16T16:12:00.000Z

Q. How many Buddhists does it take to change a light bulb?

A. Three -- one to change it, one to not-change it and one to both change and not-change it.

Change As Part of the Cycle of Movement in Aikido

2009-12-15T20:21:00.006Z

When we talk about change it's usually from the standpoint of an observer - we think that we are outside the process in some way or other. Amongst other things this enables us to arrogantly assume that we can save the planet, save the country, save other countries .... Let's get back to basics and take care of ourselves, each other - the simple things!

I agree with most of what George says in his article, but it does somewhat beg the question regarding change in Aikido. Certainly the winds of change are blowing. They have been blowing from the outset!

When O Sensei and a few followers left Sokaku Takeda they could not have foreseen the development of modern-day Aikido. Similarly, when O Sensei instructed Bansen Tanaka to recruit the sons of wealthy parents as students, or entrusted Hombu Dojo to the care of his son Kisshomaru, he could not have foreseen the creation of a corporate Aikido. When the founder left Tokyo for Iwama, sick in body and mind, I feel sure that his intention was not to create a definitive style of Aikido as a legacy for future generations. Read More

Buddhist Joke

2009-12-15T20:02:00.000Z

Q. What did the Buddhist say to the Hot Dog Vendor?

A. Make me one with everything

Open Your Own Treasure House

2009-12-15T17:26:00.000Z

Daiju visited the master Baso in China.
Baso asked: "What do you seek?"
"Enlightenment," replied Daiju.
"You have your own treasure house.
Why do you search outside?" Baso asked.
Daiju inquired: "Where is my treasure house?"
Baso answered: "What you are asking is your treasure house."
Daiju was delighted!
Ever after he urged his friends:
"Open your own treasure house and use those treasures."

The Challenge of Not Competing

2009-12-15T15:32:00.002Z

Aikido is non competitive, but there are times when you can't practice for tripping over egos. Competition exists on many levels: this style v that style, this teachers' interpretation v that one, this way or that?

This can be more than confusing for beginners, who thought that they were studying the Way of Universal Peace and Harmony. No wonder the drop out rate is as high as it is!

But this competitivenes is exactly what the training is, amongst other things, attempting to teach us to overcome - contesting with disharmony is a contradiction in terms!

Kumamoto Country of Fire

2009-12-14T18:03:00.003Z

Early in the summer of 2007 I received an invitation from Dennis Clark in Kumamoto to attend an International Gasshuku hosted by Aiki Manseido, an organisation headed by ‘Dai Sensei’ Kansho Sunadomari. I had corresponded with Dennis by email on a couple of occasions, and was genuinely surprised to be invited.

I was one of several foreigners drawn from various parts of the world, including the United States, Korea, Slovakia, France and the UK. For me it was the opportunity of a lifetime – a chance to go to Japan! I accepted immediately, once I had got permission from my wife.