Finding Beauty and Effectiveness In Aikido
On August 25th our dojo commemorated the 8th anniversary of the death of one of my teacher’s mentors, Seiichi Sugano Sensei. As the seminar and the week that followed passed, a lot of emotion was stirred inside of me. Memories of someone I never met rising from the stories I have heard. Visions of the legacy that he left behind. A constant refrain in our dojo that comes from his legacy to “continue” and meet the challenges that face us with positivity and courage. Sugano Sensei espoused a practice of continuing to grow and change in our Aikido, not allowing it to grow stagnant.
That same week, I was struck by the passing of Senator John McCain, someone I admired and respected for his courage and commitment to our country, and the loss of a childhood friend who represented love and acceptance in my life. The two deaths happening at about the same time as the memorial for Sugano Sensei got me thinking about how life and Aikido are intertwined. I talk about this a lot with various people, but the parallels were loud and visible to me this week.
We as a dojo are very lucky that Sugano Sensei was not the only Shihan to influence our teacher. We still have a living teacher in Yoshimitsu Yamada. I have heard Yamada Sensei say on many occasions that Aikido should be beautiful, effective, but beautiful. As I have reflected on the past week, it is Yamada Sensei’s words that are sticking in my mind. The way we interact with each other should be effective, and beautiful.
From Sugano Sensei, I think I understand that my Aikido should change to meet the challenges I am facing, while remaining both effective and beautiful along the way. As I have been reflecting throughout this past week I realized what I’m sure many have realized before me, that the only way to be able to do both things is to start by truly understanding the fundamentals first. We can only change something that we understand fully to begin with, and we can only make it beautiful and effective if we practice the fundamentals. First, we learn to walk, then we learn to dance.
So in Aikido, we start with kihon waza, learning basic fundamental technique. As we gain a firm understanding of those basic techniques, we begin to adapt them based on the circumstances we find ourselves in. This is where rhondori, henka waza, kaeshi waza and jiyu waza come in. We learn to adapt and change our technique based on the number of attackers, the type of attack, and even the need to reverse it when we are attacked. We also learn what to do when we make a mistake and must keep going despite that fact. In the end, we learn to let go of the idea of a technique and just find what is presented to us in the moment. I find that as an adult, life rarely looks like fundamentals. It usually looks like a chaotic mess of multiple attacks and me constantly having to adapt because of mistakes I have made. When I get caught up in the chaos, nothing works. Yet, when I remember the fundamentals, it becomes easier.
Pennewaert Sensei taught at our memorial Seminar. He focused on fundamentals. Yes, he taught technique, but more he taught the importance of understanding distance, direction, and timing. I can see how all three must be there for Aikido to be beautiful and effective, especially as we advance into these less structured aspects of training, which to me look more and more like life itself.
Distance: Distance or maia, is how far apart we are from our partner. On the mat, if the distance is off, often we lose our balance and discover that we are not in the right position to make the technique work smoothly so we often revert to using muscle or force. We try to make something work even when it doesn’t fit. Off the mat, this might be seeing the similarities and differences in our views when compared to another’s. We often think we are closer, or further apart than we really are, which impedes our ability to understand.
Direction: On the mat, if direction is off, then we don’t catch uke’s balance and, again, often revert to force. We can also impede our ability to continue onto the next part of the technique because we missed a step or turned the wrong way. In life this might look like missing the point entirely or making a wrong choice. At best this makes us change direction, and at worst we get stuck.
Timing: On the mat, if the timing is off, then the movement gets jerky and we lose both fluidity and connection. We might even miss the engagement completely if it is off enough. We lose the ability to complete certain techniques and often are forced into a reactive mode, trying to catch up to the technique. If we are good, we might be able to change the technique to meet the new timing, but we can’t go back and force the original. Off the mat, this is missing the meeting, or maybe the the opportunity to act. Playing catch up on tasks, or responsibilities. If you plan too far ahead, you might be wasting time worrying about something that will never happen, but if you don’t pay attention, you can miss the boat completely.
I think this is why so many people claim that Aikido won’t work in a real fight. I think they do not fully understand how to use distance, direction, and timing. To get this right takes practice, not brute force. You can’t find it by going to the gym and lifting weights. You can’t find it by being the biggest and baddest guy in the room. You can’t rely on your brute strength to get you through with Aikido. You have to practice paying attention in the moment. Noticing what is actually happening and responding to that. You have to see what is moving in front of you; not what you remembered it should be, were afraid it might be, or reasoned was going to happen, but what is actually happening then and there. Then you are able to blend with the distance, direction and timing that is present.
The combined effect of proper distance, direction, and timing seems to be a flow state — the place where thought drops away and the body moves in unison with the energy around it. It is a connection between the movements of nage and uke and the energy that moves through and perhaps around them. The two partners’ movements blend, creating a harmony that to some looks like dancing, and to others is an effective take down. The difference, I think is in the nature of the connection.
If a practitioner believes that the other person is merely someone to be overcome, then the quality of connection might be alert and wary and a way to create a wall of separation between the two. This usually generates an us vs them mentality, which I believe makes it harder to find flow, though maybe not impossible. Perhaps, when well-trained, a person can find that blend energetically, but with less regard for the other party. At its worst, this might look like a bully using brute force to subdue another with no regard for the other. At best, it makes it harder to find common ground and come to a peaceable solution. We see this pan out off the mat all the time, especially when politics come into play.
The opposite would be something like a deep empathy for the other, which on the face of it, some would say is good, but at its worst can become a connection where you almost lose yourself in the other’s need. This connection is less harsh, but also often leads to an ineffective end state. When someone becomes so concerned with the welfare of the other that he allows his partner to persist in error (bad decisions, bad behavior, bad technique, etcetera) he abdicates both his own ability to train and learn, as well as that of his partner. No one wins in that case. This also shows up off the mat, often as codependent relationships. If the relationship or partnership had one of each of these, it would look like an abusive relationship in its extreme, where one party capitulates to the bullying of another.
I believe most Aikidoka find their way somewhere in between these two extremes, though I’m also sure we each touch the shadows on each side from time to time. I think that is the whole point to what we do. We find a way to face the darker sides and become effective in protecting ourselves, while also remembering that we share the mat, and the planet, with others.
As I am growing in my life and in my training, I hope to gradually find my way more and more to an integrated center. That center is where I believe I will find both the beauty and the effectiveness that Yamada Sensei calls for. I believe that Aikido can be effective when done well. I believe that the way it can be effective is often manifested off the mat because of what we practice on the mat. I believe that we can find a way to see each other as partners working together to find the center where effectiveness and beauty lie, even when we disagree. Maybe one of the best examples I have seen of this practice was not in Aikido. It was instead at the memorial for Senator John McCain. People from both sides of American politics noted that he looked for ways to work together for the common good. That we looked for ways to keep both himself and others safe. Not always succeeding but continuing to try until even after his death.
My Aikido will have to continually evolve as I grow, to keep up with the changes in my understanding. I hope to find effective beauty. I hope to create the types of lasting connection that Sugano Sensei seems to have created, and I hope to leave a legacy of interconnectedness when I am gone. The way forward is to continue by focusing on distance, direction, timing, and the quality of the connections I make with people. I hope you will join me.
