A Colection of Note on t Ar of Aikido
Disclaimer:
The teaching events organised and lead by me are solely based on my plus forty-five years of Aikido experience and a lifelong pursuit of spiritual freedom. It has no formal relation to any martial art lineage or organisation. Nor is it a derivative of somebody else's teaching format. Though I'm a student myself in learning I reserve the freedom to share what I consider important to my students and to myself. No doubt there are better teachers out there and as such I can only offer my own limited window into an understanding of an immensely rich and deep art. The founder of Aikido, O Sensei, used many different analogies and metaphors to describe his Aiki experience. As an Aikido teacher I will use these expressions to the best of my ability when teaching. This is not something new but has been part and parcel of my teaching career here in the U.K. for the past 20 years. Also, all written posts in relation to Aikido and its philosophy are limited by my own grasp thereof and should be recognised as such. They are, as my Aikido is, a work in progress. Dialogue is always encouraged and welcomed.
From O Sensei.
The Importance of Learning.
"First you must gain insight into the natural world. You must learn to see the depths of its reality. If you glance casually over the things of this life, their real significance eludes you.
"I want my students to observe all of life's phenomena. This includes listening to people, taking what is valuable from what they do and say and making it your own. All of this is raw material for your reflection and your inspiration. It can begin to open your soul. Paying attention to the realities of this world will lead you to fresh insights. If you make use of these insights in your daily life and contemplate the results, your life will become more orderly. Step by step you will raise your spiritual level. Preserving in this kind of honest and open-minded examination of yourself and the world will eventually enable you to grasp the divine wisdom and supreme consciousness that inhabit the material world. I want my students to accept life in all its forms as their teacher. If they succeed in doing this, they will grow in both depth and purity. The vital energy of nature is the greatest teacher of all.
"Examine the orderly cycles of the sun, moon, and stars, the gradual change of the seasons, the flow of a river through an open valley, or the graceful movement of water as it rushes between rocks. You can learn to see parallel movements within your own body as well. You will also gain knowledge and progress toward true understanding by reading ancient texts and studying the many wonderful interpretations of them by teachers past and present. You must then translate the insights that you gain into your daily life and practice them through the way of bu. As you experience things on an increasingly deeper level, you must continually reexamine the truth of your understanding of reality and nature. Both the written and the spoken word will help you toward this
Lectures by O Sensei from Mitsugi Saotome's book "The Principles of Aikido"goal. it is the task of the budoka to make what he learns new and to make it an integral part of himself. The student of budo cannot afford to overlook the fine arts or the sciences. Knowledge surrounds us in an infinite variety of forms. Do not slight any of them or take any of them lightly.
"There is nothing in this world that cannot teach us. Some people, for example, will shy away from the teachings of religion. This is evidence that they have not grasped the deeper meanings of these teachings. Religious teachings contain much insight and wisdom. You must understand this and express your understanding through budo.”
I have such a teacher. by Rumi
Last night my teacher taught me the lesson of poverty, having nothing and wanting nothing.
I am a naked man standing inside a mine of rubies, clothed in red silk.
I absorb the shining and now I see the ocean, billions of simultaneous motions moving in me.
A circle of lovely, quiet people becomes the ring on my finger.
Then wind, and the thunder of rain on the way. I have such a teacher.
Our Style.
Sometimes called Iwama Stale in jest and in mockery of ourselves. That’s how aware we were of our shortcomings and we didn’t have to single anyone out, it was pretty much true across the board. We could laugh at ourselves, yet without ever giving up striving to come to terms with this intricate art we’d chosen to follow. We knew we were not perfect and we knew we had a lot to learn. But we were in the best place for it; Iwama, the closest thing we could get to O Sensei. This is no joke, Saito Sensei knew what he was doing. He carried not only himself but he carried Iwama with him. There is no doubt that O Sensei rubbed off on him. If you’ve had the chance to experience him you’ll know what I mean. Iwama still hold O Sensei’s spirit, it’s unmistakable. Not many coming out of Iwama have mastered Aikido, and that is not to be expected. Only a handful are sufficient teachers and even then there’s much to be asked. In regards to agility, pliability, softness, hardness, strength and stability. Many fall into one or another category, undoubtedly much being their already fixed condition prior to coming to Iwama, for then to simply reinforce poor habits. It takes a willingness to learn and to learn means to change what you are doing. Repeating what you already know will only give you more of what you already know. Nothing new. And hand on heart, we’re not there yet. Our style is not set in stone, it’s ever evolving. Saito is one of many followers of O Sensei and even he would humble himself when anyone mentioned his teacher. Can we go beyond our teachers, can we learn what they learned and more? I’m setting myself up for a fall I know but can we see that in order to learn more we need to look back? Back to what O Sensei himself discovered along the way. A discipline for body mind and heart. Something that was not that obvious, something that could not be seen. Something so secret that people are sworn never to tell. Now if I could get away with saying ‘stale’ is simply another word for immovable I’d be dancing. Yet what still rings in my ears since I was eleven is my teacher telling me “just train and you’ll get it”, no need to say much. Oh this culture of silence irritates me, like it did Terry Dobson, why (O) Sensei if you know it why not tell me? Yes yes we all know the answer to that. It wouldn’t help one bit unless I… trained. So to make a long story short, styles are not
fixed, they are moving living forms each and every one of us have to internalise and make our own.
I can’t fight!
Is my Aikido useless? I have students that could whip my ass. Am I a fraud and pretender?
I’m certain many Aikidoka can use their skills in real combat situations but I have never been in a fight and most likely would not know what to do. I teach a martial art yet have no experience in competition nor in any other real encounter, at best a friendly wrestling bout. This leaves me on very thin ice next to accomplished warriors. This has never been a concern for me as I came to training as a child with no intention to learn how to fight. I was in it for the fun and tumble, for the skill and movement. Yet now being a high graded teacher and these days hearing all the critique of Aikido as being non effective in real situations, only made more pronounced by the rise of MMA and Gracie Jiu Jutsu, not to mention plain old simple street cred. Some Aikido teachers seem to be able to hold their own, with tougher background stories than mine. I can’t compete and it’s a little too late to go into the boxing gym. I’ve better stick to what I know. See if I can find some answers in my own art by researching the foundations. Not that it will suddenly make me a fierce warrior but maybe it can highlight why Aiki was once considered an extremely powerful skill that was held secret but for the very few. A skill that transcended any particular art and was incorporated to fit any weapon you might handle. Now of course my intention is not exactly to become an invincible warrior but rather, a better lover. I’m finding the body work of Aikido, especially the internal to be extremely satisfying. Learning a physical intricate art is energetically, emotionally and spiritually uplifting. My focus is constantly being taken away from the martial application back to the balanced, connected sensitive self that performs it. It is Self indulgent. Training becomes its own reward. Movement becomes a science. Connectivity becomes the key and touch becomes my language.
A Peaceful Encounter.
Walking home late at night in central Stockholm I pass through an unlit passage in a small park. It's quite late and there are not many people about. The subway system has closed for the night and I need to find the night buses to take me to the suburbs.
I am feeling good, relaxed and enjoying my walk through the quiet city. I value such times alone, as it allows me time to reflect and to drop or fall into myself. I become very quiet inside, absorbed and totally at peace.
As I am walking through the park, I see a group of youngsters hanging around off the pathway further ahead. I become aware that I have left the part of the park that is lit and suddenly there are no other people around. In my peaceful state of mind, I take it all in and proceed without any tension. Then one of the young men steps out. Still a fair distance from me, he puts his hand in his pocket and turns towards me. Now I have never been in a fight or been threatened before, and I have had no experience of a really dangerous situation, so what happened next was revealing and truly significant to me. He puts his hand in his coat pocket as if grabbing something. He swiftly looks me up and down and I can see him take in his surroundings to see if anyone else is near. Suddenly, I am acutely aware of danger. It is like an alarm bell and flashing lights have gone off inside. Despite this, I feel unaffected and surprisingly cool. I just ease my hands out of my pockets and continue walking, letting everything unfold before my eyes. I realise that this heightened sense of danger doesn't stem from my own fear and actually doesn't have anything to do with me at all. It is the situation itself that evokes this feeling. The warning bells started to ring the moment the young man turned toward me. His intent created this highly charged situation that we both experienced and equally shared. But there was no fear and I remain calm and feel like an onlooker witnessing the event. As he feels the tension too, he sees my lack of reaction and he hesitates. He surrenders his intent, takes his hand out of his pocket and turns back to his friends. As fast as it had come, the feeling disappears and normality resumes.
I continue walking as if nothing had happened, relaxed and truly enjoying the moment. Not because I was happy to have escaped a possible dangerous encounter, but that the whole event has shown me how impersonal a hostile situation can be. If I had responded in kind to what I had felt from this young man, it could have been natural to respond with fear or anger and then the chance of violence would have been so much greater.
When the spirit of an event overtakes us, we come to see that we share and partake in the same experience. In aikido we sometimes call this Musubi (tying our ki together). By treating the experience that night as just that, rather than a personal attack, the threat was never realised and the aggression dissipated naturally. Through this union hostility ceases of its own accord.
O Sensei
It all seems to become a little clearer. Morihei Ueshiba had a well respected father, a leader in the community, with the welfare of the people at heart. Respect that had to be earned, not simply inherited, of small stature Ueshiba trained hard in the physical disciplines alongside all other young men, experienced a society in radical change, studied old esoteric, male dominated religious practices. Old school upbringing under harsh circumstances. With a Japan in transformation Morihei would try his luck in Tokyo, the new modern way, but was soon deterred and returned home. Instead of finding anonymity in the city he declared he would pioneer new settlements in Hokkaido, almost as fleeing the new times coming. He would pursue his martial ambitions as a longing not to loose touch with the past, to keep alive the ancient stories of supernatural beings and esoteric marvels so much in evidence in the rituals and practices of the mountain ascetics, displayed in the ceremonies and daily worship in all the Shinto and Buddhist temples that litter the countryside of Japan, all which suggest and hint of a bygone era, filled with a mystical promise of unknown powers. Ueshiba escaped modernism by desperately looking backwards. Finding Takeda in Hokkaido must have been a blessing
for him. Here was someone from the old guard, non-compromising and skilled beyond normal recognition. Like as if hard work was not enough, he was pursuing his inner demons. A fire would devastate his community in Hokkaido, the harsh conditions drive him back to the homeland. His father ill and dying at home. Yet his gut told him to go to Ayabe, to see the rising star of Deguchi, a shaman in the making. Desperation in the soul of Morihei took him to his spiritual mentor, seeking that which Takeda was unable to provide; final answers to his inner yearning, satisfaction of his soul. Deguchi embodied all those eccentric qualities that Morihei relished, a throwback in time with supernatural powers to boost. Spirit displayed openly and unapologetically. The masses came to Ayabe in droves. O Sensei had found his home. Now it was all conglomerated into a unified mission to save Japan. Old style. Not an individual salvation but a creation of a nation in need. O Sensei’s Japanese soul found its place in the biggest possible sense, in a spiritual dominion replanted here on Earth. Now a vessel for the divine for the sake of mankind. Finally he could live in a changing society, a society that was leaving the old behind for modernity. He had planted the ‘old’ in his heart and it would never leave him. All who later met him would attest to meeting a person from a different time, one of, if not, the last remaining scent lingering after the door had been shut. This had not been a spiritual pursuit as we would normally associate it with, it had been one mans desperate need to remain sane in a confusing chaotic changing environment that catapulted Japan into the modern era. Morihei’s escape followed the esoteric path of Shingon Buddhism and the Oomoto Shinto religion mixed with the Japanese warrior spirit of the heroic samurai past; a trial and baptism of fire. A small man’s quest for survival in an overwhelming world. Morihei had managed to reconnect to his roots just in time. That door is well and truly shut now, it all belonging to the past. Even God has moved on. So the spirit of Aikido lives on in a new disguise, we now shape its form and dictate its future. Oh ye gods of the past, yes you’d better keep up.
Contrition of the heart.
"In Japan, the feeling of shame is regarded as a certain kind of sensitivity and, therefore, a virtue. How can we not feel shame if we ignore our divine nature and our true purpose in life? This is the origin of all shame. Real understanding of Aikido will only come about through daily purification (misogi) and through constantly striving for the creation of a better world.” -Morihei Ueshiba.
Shame, or remorse, as I see it, is the cold you feel when you leave the fire. In the wilderness, by a campfire we warm up, sitting as close as possible. When we turn away we feel the cold nightair closing in, cooling our body down. So for me, the Misogi, our daily practice, our purification is the return to the heat, to the furnace. This changes the dynamics. Instead of remaining in a sin-implied bad conscience of wrongdoing and lingering shame we turn toward our hearts fire and forge and melt in the hearth of love and truth.
Real forgiveness of the heart is not an aftereffect but a reckoning of oneself; when we see the other as we see ourselves we live and let live. Moment to moment. It does not need to take time to turn back to the hearth of the fi replace. It’s a remembrance and acknowledgment within and with it comes all the love in the world.
Sometimes we are overwhelmed with grief, of sorrow coming out of nowhere. It’s good to remind ourselves it’s not just our grief but a suffering felt by all people. It’s as if we can become aware of the pain humanity has suffered through the ages and that it is a part of our own pain. We can feel the weight of it and yet we can bear it, not only for ourselves but for everyone else as well. This is the passion Christ suffered for us, not only on the cross but throughout his life:
“For God so loved the world that He gave His only begotten Son, that whoever believes in Him should not perish but have everlasting life.”
Aikido and War.
O Sensei gets a lot of bad press these days linking him to right wing ultra nationalist assassins and megalomaniac religious cult leaders under the guise of national unity and world peace. Deguchi Sensei, a driven young man, used spirit possession and divination to harness the hearts of people blending genuine spiritual revelation with occult techniques. Native mysticism became the means to withstand the changing times of Japan. Militarism, nationalism and Imperialism was and is the violent reaction to modernism in a desperate attempt to keep and regain the old ways of often an imagined and glorified past. The context in which O Sensei existed lent itself to form his framework for his spiritual understanding. It all fitted neatly into the mythological history of Japan and equally laid out a potential glorious future. And though O Sensei could not have foreseen the radical changes the new world order would impose on Japan after the war he could not but resign himself to its inevitability and adjust his teachings accordingly. What needs to be understood through this turbulent time period is that his inner revelations were shaped and translated through the means of his day. To O Sensei that was through the eyes of Shingon mysticism, Oomoto spirit possession, Bushido and Yamato Tamashii; the Japanese soul. Old school all the way. This we must understand, does not minimise the profundity and truthfulness of his spiritual and physical insights. We today must seek out the spiritual depths he himself clearly touched throughout his lifetime, translated differently as society changed around him. We must seek a better understanding of selflessness and Ego in our own experience through dedicated self examination. It is still today a spiritual quest; a way with profound consequences for any and all that will venture to follow in his footsteps to reveal our innermost nature. Never let mens ignorance overshadow the significance Spirit and Truth hold in our lives.
Sempai and kohai.
“You’re full of shit” I told him to his face as he came by thinking he was acting sempai and had the skills to believe it. He had just arrived and decided to throw his weight around, thinking he should show us who’s the boss. Summer heat in Iwama we all hung out on the benches outside of the dojo after morning keiko, chilling and joking around. He comes up thinking he can order us around giving us a stern lecture of what it means to be an uchideshi. We just looked at each other wondering if this was just normal German authority needed to be displayed or him simply being an ahole. Then he walked off with an air of indignation. So what if he was older and thought he was a big shot teacher back home. He already had a bad rep before coming but we hadn’t expected it to be that blatant. He hadn’t even said hello to us uchideshi, some of us longterm and seasoned in Iwama already, fully aware of the daily schedule of the Dojo and of Sensei’s needs. Completely unfair to throw this shit on us this beautiful morning I followed him into the kitchen. “You can’t just come up like that and go off on us” I wanted to reason with him. Maybe he had had a reason or was just in a bad mood? I wanted to make him aware of the effect he had caused. Did he care? “You can’t treat people in the way you did, why didn’t you just come over and greet us?” After all, he was just an uchideshi like the rest of us, and a short-term one at that. He just mumbled something as he seemingly wasn’t interested in engaging me. I left but thought about what his gripe was with us, that we were lazying around not being proper deshi. So I thought let’s take him at his word. I grabbed Ishigami-san and told him we were going to do some work. He was a little hesitant because this was not something Sensei had asked for. But I insisted, pulling rank on him (in the nicest way possible) saying this needed to be done and Sensei would be pleased. So back around the kitchen area there are several huge old Azalea bushes that bloom beautifully in spring. They had been neglected for a while and there was a massive amount of a type of clinging ivy that was suffocating them. We worked all day to free the Azaleas from it, gathering up a large pile to be disposed of later. I remember it was so satisfying to do this. You almost could feel the bushes begin to breathe again. We
worked through the heat and came away sweaty but happy. Very pleased, we didn’t say a word to anyone. That evening at keiko, Sensei came into the dojo with a very stern face. Before bowing in he shouted “Who did it?” Who had done the unauthorised work in the garden? “Dare?”,”Who?” he shouted. We all looked at each other and since nobody but us knew about this everyone was perplexed. I raised my hand in admittance. “Why?” he stared me down. “Who asked you?” he demanded. “He told me”, I said, looking over at our German sempai who was a bit flustered by now. As fast as Sensei had flared up he now cooled down immediately. “Ahh so ka?” And we went on to practice as usual. Nothing more was said about the incident but the next day Sensei was out in the garden happily burning all that weed in his burning pit, with a content smile on his lips. And by the way, we never heard a bad word again from our sempai. Or actually that’s not completely true. He did come up to me in private a few days later and warned me to be careful. They never give up do they?
Reciprocal.
When I first entered the Shiseikan dojo and asked to be admitted, my teacher Inaba Sensei said he was not ready to take responsibility for me. That told me that he would care for me and invest in me if he chose to accept me as his student. After a couple of weeks and me asking him again, he accepted me into his class. Reciprocity is surely needed in any teacher student relationship. In relationships or in friendships we give and take. A one-sided engagement soon falters and fades away, and though dependency should be exposed and severed, any dialogue is only as good as the next response. Each party is responsible to fully engage, yet sometimes the partnership is broken up in order to create independence. But that happens within a context of learning and development and should be understood as such. In any healthy relationship communication is essential. It’s a two way street, an engagement where both are invested in the good of the other. Once it’s lacking in either the student or in the teacher the bond
breaks up and the relationship ends. This obviously should be the teachers prerogative if at all interested in teaching and which he should make amply clear to his students. My spiritual teacher would never ever affirm any of his students, to the grievance of some, but I understood his stance. Why affirm where no affirmation is needed? If we meet in dialogue in order to be free, our relationship is not based on dependency but on mutual understanding and love. Yet we know who the teacher is and who is the student. It’s reciprocal but not equal. So when we bow to the teacher he bows back to us. Like Ramakrishna did to his student Vivekananda. Reciprocity is not only the way to engage but also the goal of mastery. Reciprocity is the ultimate union in any relationship without which there is no basis for being together.
The Parable of the Lute.
Once the Blessed One (the Buddha) lived near Rajagaha on Vulture Peak. At that time, while the venerable Sona lived alone and secluded in the Cool Forest, this thought occurred to him: "Of those disciples of the Blessed One who are energetic, I am one. Yet, my mind has not been liberated from the taints by nonclinging."
Now, the Blessed One, perceiving in his own mind the venerable Sona's thoughts, left Vulture Peak, and, as speedily as a strong man might stretch his bent arm or bend his stretched arm, he appeared in the Cool Forest before the venerable Sona. And he said to the venerable Sona: "Sona, did not this thought arise in your mind: 'Of those disciples of the Blessed One who are energetic, I am one. Yet, my mind has not been liberated from the taints by non-clinging.”
"Yes, Lord (Bhante)."
"Tell me, Sona, in earlier days when you were a house-dweller, were you not skilled in playing stringed music on a lute (Vina=arched harp)?"
"Yes, Lord."
"And, tell me, Sona, when the strings of that lute were too taut, was then your lute tuneful and playable?"
"Certainly not, O Lord."
"And when the strings of your lute were too loose, was then your lute tuneful and playable?"
"Certainly not, O Lord."
"But when, Sona, the strings of your lute were neither too taut nor too loose, but adjusted to an even pitch, was it in tune and playable?"
"Certainly, O Lord."
“In the same way, Sona, over-aroused persistence leads to restlessness, overly slack persistence leads to laziness. Thus you should determine the right pitch for your persistence, attune the pitch of the faculties, and there take up the object [of meditation].”
"Yes, O Lord," replied the venerable Sona in assent.
Afterward, the venerable Sona kept his energy balanced behind the Spiritual Faculties, and in this way focused his attention. And the venerable Sona, living alone and secluded, diligent, ardent and resolute, soon realised here and now, through his own direct knowledge, that unequaled goal of the holy life.”
- Adapted from Anguttara Nikaya 6.55 (Nyanaponika Thera and Bhikkhu Bodhi).
Budo 武道 - the "Bu" (武), meaning "stopping spear". This is an interpretation that dates back almost to the origin of Budo. "Hokodome", of "Hoko" (⼽) the spear, and "tome/dome" (⽌) stopping, thus meaning "stopping spear" decompose the Kanji as follows. The interpretation of "Hoko", spear, is accepted by all Japanese and Chinese experts. “Dome" is the Kanji used for "stop, halt, terminate”. Now stopping ‘the’ spear, or stopping ‘with’ spear, is a matter of discussion, but the idea is to stop the conflict in the martial sense—to halt aggression, no matter what. “Do”, or “Tao” in Chinese,(道), the Way, or “michi”, the path to, indicates the spirit behind the intent—of how to deal with conflict.
Wu wei (無為), is a Chinese concept literally meaning "in-exertion", "inaction", or "effortless action”, referring to an ideal form of government or a state of unconflicting personal harmony, freeflowing spontaneity and savoir-faire. In Japanese: 無 (mu); (bu), nothing, nothingness, (Buddhism) mu; neither yes nor no. Attested profusely in Classical Chinese, this word is the prototypical negation particle in the *m- series of Chinese negatives. In the oracle bone script, however, 無 is not frequently used, and its homophone 毋 is used instead. 毋 (OC *ma, “do not”). Compare, 不, Mandarin bù, representing “no” (negation).
武術 Wǔshù, (Chinese martial arts), same concept, halt (with) the spear, and now play on the sound “Wu”, ”Bu”, —Stop!, —No!, indicates the first intent of not raising a hand in anger, or to halt any escalation, by any means, with or without spear.
Aiki Budo, then, indicates the way we do that; with the techniques of Aiki 合氣, of matching, blending heaven and earth in ourselves, to deter any conflict.
Riai Aikido.
The synthesis of Aiki. In Iwama, the concept of Riai never made sense to me, ie the harmonisation and unity of the bokken, jo and empty handed techniques, until I learned and understood what Aiki was. The bukiwaza, the weapon techniques of the sword and staff, seemingly stand-alone disciplines, are an integral part of the Iwama Aikido tradition. Not simply by the fact that we can blend with weapons as we can empty handed, but because the principle of using the sword (since Aikido comes from the sword) carries over into everything else we do, with or without a weapon. It’s a technical application that is based on an inner centred connected body, with a bi-polarised extension through the length of the body into and through any wielded weapon. Aiki can be used through any medium, in our case bokken, jo and body, and is not differentiated between blunt and sharp weapons. The movement is the same, for example, for a blunt bokken as for a sharp katana. Of course, there’s a difference in usage with or without a blade, but the basic movement and transference of Aiki remains the same. Wedge in and displace, is not a wholly correct way of describing it but will do for now. Suddenly the focus is not on “cutting”, “twisting”, “thrusting”, “bashing”, or “throwing”, but on creating Aiki on impact. The blending now only refers to how well you time, space, and coordinate your movement in sync with the situation. The deal breaker becomes your ability to exercise Aiki upon contact. That’s the skill we’re looking for. The two kanji that make up the word “Riai”, meaning Reason; “ri“ (principle, truth) with “ai” (coming together, joining). In other words, the underlying principles behind a technique or system. So in Iwama Aikido, this principle is Aiki, and its synthesis of body, bokken, and jo. That for me, made the concept of Riai come alive.
“Kannagara” no Budo.
Spirit Nature.
Kannagara 神ながら, also written 随神 or 惟神, "of the kami from time immemorial".
Meanings for each kanji in 随神: 随 follow; obey; submit to; comply; at the mercy of (the waves) 神 gods; mind; soul, spirit.
Meanings for each kanji in 惟神: 惟 consider; reflect; think 神 gods; mind; soul, spirit.
“Becoming kami nature, or having, kami nature”. Embodying your spiritual nature, to animate your natural true self. The transubstantiation of your body and mind into the embodiment of your spiritual essence nature. The process, or alchemy, of transformation, of making more real of what is normally shallow or superficial. To deepen and to express a more authentic sense of being, to the point of physical change. Esoteric and yogic bodily transmutation into a empowered heightened sense of individual personhood. To internalise one’s experience to the point it begins to manifest.
This is the Budo O Sensei envisaged. His esoteric practice, his Shugyo, his Takemusu Aiki, was this transformation of the individual. The kneading, the temperance, the forging, of one’s self. The cultivation of body and mind for one purpose alone; not to become the invincible ego warrior—but, the birth, the breeding, and the fruition, of a living expression of the divine principle; ie. a manifestation of Truth, where love emanates from the core of your being, and is physically felt by those around. The purification inherent and implied in such an endeavour is the daily Misogi O Sensei called our Aikido practice; a moral, ethical and physical path to root out evil, ie. selfishness, greed and anger. Kannagara points to the real spiritual path we need to follow if we take serious O Sensei’s message of peace:
My Aikido Way
Is based on that everything is self evident. That means everything —everyone’s intent, is always displayed on their sleeve. Hiding it is also displayed. So if people want to be ill meaning or aggressive nothing is stopping them. But their very stance is evident for all to see. Nothing goes amiss. This is what O Sensei means when he says: “When an enemy tries to fight with me, the universe itself, he has to break the harmony of the universe. Hence at the moment he has the mind to fight with me, he is already defeated. There exists no measure of time — fast or slow.”
This is the case whether or not you are an accomplished master in the arts. So that means, you are already in a state of accomplishment simply doing nothing, and your response can be as debilitating as Jesus turning the other cheek: “If I said something wrong,” Jesus replied, “testify as to what is wrong. But if I spoke the truth, why did you strike me?”
This stance in your true self, free from division and separation, is what lays everything bare—is that perfect mirror the Buddha points to in: The Great Perfect Mirror Wisdom—The Eight Consciousnesses.
Hui Neng very Zen addressed it: “There is no Bodhi-tree, Nor stand of mirror bright. Since all is void, Where can the dust alight?”
Still, practice continues, polishing the tile—If I don’t work, I don’t eat!
Sacred Space.
Integrity—physically, mentally, and spiritually—we all need to establish our centre. Whether that be a dojo, a shrine, an artist’s studio, or a place in nature, we need this room to be closer to the Sacred, the Holy, and the Innermost. Where the air is thin and communion is palpable. Where you feel it in your heart or even in your gut, where we find integrity in ourselves.
To learn how to move from your centreline; your chushin 中⼼, in Aikido, to stabilise one’s hips, to learn to move from Hara, refers to your physical integrity. To be one-pointed, focused, centred, at ease in your own mind, and mindful of the space around you, creates the mental integrity you need to find peace. To be open, sensitive, and receptive to things around you, to people next to you, from a centred perspective where you see no division between outside and inside, establishes your spiritual integrity. This sacred space can become the world you live in daily. All around you without fail, the love permeating even time and space, where all boundaries fall away.
Aikido.
Zen master Bankei used to speak of the marvellous functioning of the Buddha mind—as a mirror that responds according to what it encounters, naturally and effortlessly, without thought. An inherent functionality that is accessible and fully capable now. This Buddha mind, this natural mind, is not a certain state of mind —like say, in Samadhi, the deep absorptive meditative state of tranquility and translucency, but rather, this very present mind right now—the normal everyday mind, that both you and I have all the time.
The marvellous function Bankei describes, and demonstrates, is that it automatically knows what is presented to it, and therefore responds in kind. For example:
“Now you’re probably all wondering what this Unborn Buddha Mind is like. Well, while you’re sitting there facing me and trying to catch what it is I’m saying, if the bark of a dog or the cry of a street vendor should find its way in here from somewhere outside the temple walls, thought you’re listening to me each of you would hear it though you had no intention at all to do so, thanks to the workings of the Buddha mind which hears and understands in the Unborn. The Buddha mind, unborn and illuminating all things with perfect clarity, is like a mirror standing clear and spotlessly polished. A mirror, as you know, reflects anything that’s before it. Whatever is placed before it, the shape never fails to be reflected, though the mirror has no idea or intention of doing so. And when the object is taken away, the mirror doesn’t reflect it any longer though it makes no decision to cease reflecting. That’s just how the Unborn Buddha Mind works. We see and hear all things no matter what they are although you haven’t generated a single thought to see or hear them because of the vital working of the Unborn Mind, each of you receives at birth.”
So in life, so in Aikido. Everyone you meet is different, so your response will be different each time. Easy or difficult doesn’t enter into it. Now, if you prefer one perspective over another, you will be caught struggling as you’re not ready to change as circumstance dictate. Regardless of point view, you’re able to adapt without effort. This makes us understand that the natural state, is not a ‘state’ experience—not a more ‘enlightened’ experience. So whether you feel good or not, doesn’t really come into it. Your mind, will like an automated zoom lens, focus on what’s in front of it and conform. So when you turn your gaze towards the stars at night, naturally your mind expands to encompass its vastness, then when someone calls your name, you turn and respond like a human being, and then further on, you realise how tired your body is because you lost track of time. Every situation becomes straightforward and if you don’t understand —you don’t understand. Easy as that. No need to worry that your mind is engrossed in something, like for example, threading a needle with utmost attention and detail, because if called upon, you easily put it down to see what’s happening. It all comes down to understanding your mind, and not let yourself entertain erroneous
ideas, or slightly slanted views, not yet fully clarified. This can easily be cleared up if one examines the nature behind ones experience. Sit with it. Aikido, in its practice, welcomes all comers with equal zest. And even though we follow a strict adherence to form, we can and must, adapt to what’s in front of you. Now, mastery doesn’t come with understanding, but with dedicated perseverance and training. And we all can do well do seek out the accomplished masters to pry their secrets from their hands. He can’t really deny you if you’re serious. But do know this; if you have a fighting mind, you’ll limit your range. Joy and love will counteract any fear or uncertainty, so don’t hesitate to seek help. What do you have to loose?
Combative Aikido?
A contradiction in terms, yet some train as if it’s a fighting system— It is not! If you wonder what works, look at MMA and UFC. A combined skill set drawn from several disciplines, proved and tested in serious high stress competitive combative matches. Can Aiki be used? Most definitely, if you have developed it within the combative training regime. But to practice only the techniques of Aikido as a system to fight? Forget it. Any wrestler or boxer will have you on the floor in no time. At best it leads to a scrap that has no resemblance to Aikido at all, at worst you’ll be handed your ass on a plate. Old-school dogs who know their way around the yard probably will make it difficult, but that’s more down to their street cred than to their Aikido skills. Sure, their body is tough and strong, and the Aikido have surely helped their skills but it has rarely prepared them for a professional encounter where anything goes. So the critique here is directed, not at MMA nor at traditional Aikido, but at purist Aikido practitioners that train in a combative manner—thinking their applications are realistic when in fact, it’s choreographed and complied with, within its preset sequence. This training can be tough, with flair, challenging and productive toward certain qualities but don’t mistake it for a real fight. Sure you may get away with it against a unskilled yob on the street, but don’t fool
yourself. Unless you have incorporated real fighting experience into your arsenal your Aikido won’t cut it. So why do we train Aikido? —We who care less for the competitive side and its combative skill set? —We who are drawn to its beauty, its elegance and its mystery? —We who want to learn about Aiki! Can we learn methodically, painstakingly, step by step, how to use our body, inside and out, to utilise the principles and technique of Aiki, to meet, match, deflect, bind and absorb. This practice is codependent in as much we work as uke and nage—we give and we receive in equal measure. We learn through the extensive experience of practice and engagement with the other, not with a competitive mindset but yet still in a dynamic and heightened relationship. Its heart comes from realising we are one. We don’t want to hurt each other. Yet we can train hard and disciplined without unnecessary roughness. We soften the corners, tighten the slack, become more sensitive, and take care of uke. We train from hard to soft, from slow to fast, without loosing the plot, without loosing control—our throttle control matches our passengers ability to stay with us. We are never better than ukes ability to stay with us, so if you can enhance his or hers reception of your technique through sensitivity you’ll increase not only your own Aikido but his as well. Ukemi is a drawn out process, not a breaking act. Aikido techniques are formed as to enhance posture, to stretch and lengthen, tone and open the body—automatically revitalising the energy in the process. Being centred, body mind and heart, allows for independence of action yet we do not cut off the relationship to our partner. We are not a blind machine that eats up anything in its path, we’re more like a planet absorbing incoming meteorites into its orbit, deflecting them off course simply by our own centre’s rotation. To enjoy the relationship in Aikido is to compare it to the moon’s attraction to Earth, a mutual yet each an independent movement of gravity affecting each other as they twirl through space. Now you can prolong or shorten the relationship as you prefer but nevertheless the relationship exist while it lasts. This coexistence is what is mutually beneficial and invigorating, it brings joy. It takes two to tango, and it takes two or three to meet in His name for the spirit to be present among us. This is what we call communion, nothing less than an experience of oneness together. So without loosing your own sense of being we can completely experience together a shared space. This happens when we focus
on the blending, and the matching, of our engagement. We kind of bleed into each other and become non-distinct. This is as far from ‘martial’ you can come. In it there is no ‘other’, no enemy to conquer, and no self to overcome. Then when the spell have left you, you can stare at each other in awe—what did just happen? Let’s do that again! Conscious oneness experienced together through mutual engagement in Aikido. That is not combative Aikido, but O Sensei’s Aikido as he would have loved to see it.
Aikido is (not) a Spiritual Path.
Is it or isn’t it? It’s a physical training, we know that much. Some like it to be self defence, others a way of life. No one can contest it comes from the martial background of feudal Japan. Death and dying is such a prominent feature of Japanese culture, so inextricably interwoven in their mentality. Death, spirit-life and honour—so explicit in Bushido—the warrior code of the samurais. When O Sensei say his Aikido is different, what do we understand it to be? Sure, everyone will make it what they want it to be, but what did O Sensei mean with it? Should that matter at all? If we practice Aikido and enjoy what it gives us, regardless of style and approach, can we use that platform to look ahead? —To investigate the roots; its foundation, both physically, martially and philosophically, and decipher Morihei Ueshiba’s vision? Can we allow him to inspire our own search for the meaning of our art? Can we question where we are going, and what we expect from our Aikido? Is it only physical exercise, combative proficiency and social companionship? Can O Sensei inspire loftier aims? At least for us to entertain some thoughts toward meaning and purpose? Or do we, like some, take him down from the pedestal and treat him like a feeble old man? Stubborn and stuck in his old ways, eccentric and powerful, prone to nationalistic views? An old warrior using archaic language to describe his inner world. Will it have any bearing on us trying to figure out what Aikido is and isn’t? Personally, I never thought Aikido was a spiritual path. I grew up with it. It was great fun if anything. My spiritual questions, my existential questions, were there before Aikido, during Aikido, and
I’m sure will be there after Aikido as well. Aikido did not make those happen. But—Aikido fits its temperament; its non-violent and non-competitive attitude suits the inquiring mind. Aikidos philosophy is in line with spiritual principles and therefore can serve as a vehicle for both body and mind, while you’re seeking for answers. The dojo can act as the greenhouse for young plants. Feed it properly and it will grow. But for the spiritual spark, it can’t come from outside, it must stem from within. Either you have it or you don’t. If you don’t, you can find it. Maybe you’ll find it practicing Aikido? Maybe you’ll find it walking down the street? Aikido is not a magic pill that will convert you but it can serve as a platform for some in-depth investigation, some soul searching and lead to some fantastic experiences. But your spiritual path, if you choose to embark on one, happens beyond the mat and the dojo. After all, the spiritual path is a path of surrender, and all things finally have to be let go of, even Aikido.
‘Traditional’ Aikido.
Many use ‘traditional’ to describe their Aikido and especially Iwama students like to use it in their dojo name. We base it on the way Morihiro Saito Sensei taught the basics of tai-jutsu and bukiwaza combined as he had learned it from O Sensei. The syllabus and curriculum follow a more or less consistent system that most Iwama style schools adopt. Many times the teaching module is also based on the time period the student/teacher spent in Iwama. Some have more experience than others that will be reflected in the knowledge and skill they promote, yet the basic framework should be the same—an Ikkyo is an Ikkyo. Saito Sensei taught it in three steps—starting in Kihon; standstill basics, aka Kotai—solid body, where we learn stability, balance and kokyu-ryoku; breath-power. Then step two, Awase; blending, matching the opponent, aiki upon contact, aka Jutai—flexible body. Maai, initiative, timing and kuzushi.
Third step, Ki-no-nagare; flowing ki, we bring the stability and the blending together into a non-interrupted flow, aka Ryutai—flowing body.
This is by the method we train, learning technical correctness, followed by body awareness, strength and flow. Internal body structure balance and connected sensitivity coupled with suppleness and strength will yield an aiki-body. Aiki is to retain your centre and to take your opponent’s centre upon contact. This is done outwardly by techniques and inwardly by body control. The outward form is clearly laid out in our technical syllabus, and in the progress of skill levels, and with the understanding of the Aiki mechanics involved. The inward process is an internal focus on the connectivity of your fascial system—the connective tissue of your body, to create a Hara-centred, unified, elastic and responsive operating system. The field of Aikido is vast and there’s so much to cover but we in Iwama style like to believe that the foundation that Saito Sensei laid is an authentic transmission of O Sensei’s Aikido in its beginning stages. On it we build our Aikido and we always return to the basics to hone our skills and deepen our understanding over time. Without a doubt, Kihon is where Saito Sensei laid his emphases. So in that sense we can appreciate ’traditional’ as that upon which we build—it is the foundation of our Aikido.
Also, Kihon 基本 can be read slightly differently with an exchange of kanji to 氣本, sometimes done by Buddhists in Japan, meaning the ‘origin of Ki’, ie from where Ki issue—the source of Ki. So in an advanced search for what Ki or Aiki is, we look for that elusive generative quality where creation happens. Where we go from nothing to something, where we turn on from zero, and allow for artistic licence to explore and to create anew. So returning to basics is much more than simply adhering to form or sticking to tradition. Our foundation is this very place of the origin of Ki from where we begin, again and again—staying true to Takemusu.
Fragile.
When all power leaves you and you find yourself alone, even in a room full of people, you’ll feel the fragility of life. It’s delicate, not in the sense of an apprehension of expressing it, but in its quality of
tenderness. When you don’t know why you’re feeling so fragile, and tears are just waiting to spill, it’s a delicate moment and you can do nothing but wait. It is actually quite thrilling to wait, because you don’t know what’s coming. It’s like I’m brought down to listen, to hear what is being said, humbled without precaution, without sternness. I do not fear this place, instead I value it. It’s very sweet and in fact, good for me. There’s no room for pride, yet in it there’s a possibility of freedom, to say what must be said, and to do what must be done. When the hand of the Almighty moves, we are rendered powerless. Express it as you like but there’s no misgiving as to whom the credit goes.
Right and wrong.
When we meet, we meet as we are. I see you as you are and have no need to change you. Can you offer me the same courtesy? Or do you have to put yourself on your pedestal and say you’re right and I’m wrong, with a wry smile on your face and quickly walk away, like if you did the naughty and feel very pleased about it. The smugness is palpable. It’s not like you know me—not my history, nor what I do or how I do it. The Truth is revealing but you think it’s about this or that. How tiresome it is.
In the 11th hour.
On death’s doorstep you realise you’ve hurt a lot of people and rush to make amends. A little late wouldn’t you say? Did your priest put you up to it? Better to clear the score while you still can, is that it? To clear your conscience you write a letter of apology, making right of old wrongs. A last teaching and grandiose gesture before the curtain falls. It doesn’t quite sit right does it. The old man did good in the end, is that the legacy you leave behind? There’s something so off-putting with ministers publicly repenting, whaling
and crying, needing the clemency to feel better about themselves. What a spectacle.
Normal folks knows instinctively what’s right. Late night apologies don’t make up for a day’s abuse. Better late than never argue some, but the forgiveness is not mine to give. So save the repentance to the one that governs your eleventh hour.
“Hidden among the leaves”
There’s a secret not many know about. It is something that does not reveal itself. It remains hidden. It does not manifest in power. Nor does it manifest as Ch'i or Ki. It’s not a mere thought or delusive imagination. It’s neither full nor empty. You can’t call it nothing since it is who we are. People flounder because they try to grasp at straws. In the end there’s nothing to hold onto. This mystery is hidden in plain sight, but not as a system of movement or as a secret talent. It can’t be seen. It does not stand out. It’s hidden among many. What is the answer to this old riddle then? What is hidden among the leaves? What can hide among the leaves not to get detected? It is not nothing, so what is it then? The answer should clear up all confusion in regards to who you think you are, and to who you think I am. It will set things straight once and for all. This is the secret all the Buddhas carried around thinking it would be too difficult for people to grasp. So they waited patiently for people to be ready to listen before they spoke. Infinite patience must be accredited them. So why would an old Samurai manual have this title—‘Hagakure’?
Their fascination with the acceptance of death gives a hint, pointing to a possible answer hidden among the leaves. Where do you look? And for what? Maybe the dramatic scenes of dying by the sword, dropping to your knees on the forest floor, your last thoughts goes to the leaves you feel touching your face on the ground? Maybe you realise what’s hidden there?
