Finding the Flow on my Path with Miles Kessler
Have you ever noticed how sometimes you can feel obstacles holding you back, and others you can actually feel how a road block turns into a new segment of your path? Or maybe how continuing forward helps you find a space where everything changes, even when most things are sort of the same? Something turned for me last weekend. I can feel a shift and its awesome. What happened? Keep reading…
About a year ago, I got hurt. That sent me into a dark place where it seemed like my goals were being lost. Luckily, I have grown enough in recent years to know to get help when these things happen, but I have to say it took awhile and the intervention of some of my closest friends for my emotions to start catching up with my mind. Since then I have been on a path of struggle and learning that I am finally starting to understand.
It is not a new path, just a new aspect of my path. Coaching and teaching through somatic (body based) methods has been my path for years. This path has led me to the grudging study of mindfulness and a greater understanding of abundance and the beauty of being in a diverse and creative world. This weekend at a seminar in Sarasota, FL, however, pieces of what I am meant to do and be started falling in place in a deeper way. The me that lives in a hopeful place, a place that recognizes and relishes amazing moments, the me that finds joy, appeared full force.
My Sensei has been telling me for months that the pathway to black belt is way more important than the belt itself. The learning and self discovery is partly how we start to redefine ourselves. He has been steadily and persistently planting seeds in my mind, helping me find my way to the next phase in my path. Like most students, it takes me awhile to finally hear him. My training until this weekend has been mainly focused on learning techniques and covered in frustration with being hurt… but maybe not any more. I was holding myself back from really feeling any integration or allowing the deeper aspects of my aikido (love, blending, feeling the connection of others) to show up.
The instructor at this weekend’s seminar was Miles Kessler Sensei. I have studied mindfulness and integral coaching with him for awhile online through the Integral Dojo, but this was the first time I got to experience him on the mat, or in person. His Aikido and teaching style were different than I am used to, and yet, much of the same love that I have grown to expect came through.
At home, I am used to a steadfast care that slowly and methodically helps me move forward. Our classes are full of deeply rooted learning that leaves a feeling of warmth and surety behind. Miles Sensei had a different feel. Also assured, and also full of warmth and caring, but much lighter and brighter than I have known before. Miles Sensei showed a beautiful balance of fluidity, joy, and precision that simply made me smile. The feeling was the same as the one I get when Brian Sensei (my teacher) and I are in sync and I can flow through the air. I felt lightness and a deeper connection to everything. Even though I was solidly on the ground, at times I felt lifted up. Somehow, he managed to make very effective aikido also seem like dancing, and I saw and felt the interconnection of spirit and movement. Maybe it was being away from home, or maybe I was just ready… but I finally saw a deeper level of joy that comes from the study of my art.
This was a beautiful moment both because of what I experienced and because I was reminded why I first started training. The ability to move in union with someone and be a part of a community that constantly looks for ways to build better connection. I was also reminded of the reverence that Brian Sensei has for the art. The compassion and caring he shows for both his students and the art itself, each time he is on the mat. The juxtaposition of the two styles of teaching and how each shares the spirit of aikido almost brings tears to my eyes.
We focused on jiyu waza this weekend. Free technique. Flowing from one move to the next. It was about learning where we were stuck and finding ways past it. Even with my bad knees I was mostly able to participate throughout the class and see how my fear and tension is likely contributing to my pain, both physically and emotionally. I get stuck when I worry about what might be, or maybe what might never be. I can’t enjoy anything because I cling desperately to what I wanted things to be like, even when it is clear that they are not that way now. That stuckness translates to a rigidity in my body that puts stress on my knees. The practice gave me a way to practice moving through that fear… catching the wave of fear and working with it. I again can see how being attacked by people with weapons and my reaction to it is directly linked to how I approach difficulty in life. How I tense up and move in fear. I can also see how, practicing in this venue helped me start to learn to let go of my fear. I need WAY more practice… and I’m getting there. I can feel that now.
I’ve experienced this phenomenon before when I was on the mat at home, or in Petaluma with Richard Strozzi; yet, somehow the quality here feels different. My knees still hurt, I’m still limited, and I’m still stalled on forward progress in some ways… and yet I feel like I am growing in indescribably wonderful ways, too.
We also practiced loosening up our bodies to allow more freedom of motion. I noticed how much I try to anticipate and how that anticipation disrupts my technique and also limits my flexibility in response. How if I wait until there is actual danger before moving, I can better respond to the danger because I am not already committed to a different action. At one point Miles told me to wait longer. I bet I only waited a nanosecond longer, if that, not quite achieving what he was asking of me… but the lesson was learned. The idea took root. I am only now really understanding how all of my planning and strategy in life is generated from fear of an attack that may not come (illness, injury, loss, hurt) or may be different than what it looks like. I don’t see the real attack because I am too busy trying to figure out what it is before it is defined. I anticipate and act, never allowing a situation to take root. It makes me think that if I can learn to be more present, and pause, then fear will dissipate. It is not the first time I have heard this, but it may be starting to stick now. That isn’t to say planning is bad, but if I don’t hold it lightly… then I experience no joy in the moment and I lose out on the opportunity to respond differently if the situation isn’t quite what I expected.
We worked a lot on flexibility of the mind and spirit… a little of the body, how to flow and adapt based on the attack of uke. Not doing a prescribed technique, but trusting that our bodies would know how to respond. The planner in me struggled to let go and let things be as they were. And in the end the struggling did not help. Just practicing, living, and trusting my own innate knowledge worked.
Something feels different now inside. I feel more in tune with… everything. I feel less worried about the parts of life that slow things down (work, broken appliances, cars that need repairs, injuries…) and more in tune to music, nature, and quiet.
I don’t know how whatever shifted this weekend shifted…I do know that lots of people planted seeds and laid stones to help me walk this path. And yet… this is the time that something is happening. Something beautiful and wrapped up in fluidity, flexibility, and joy. As I think on it more, I’ll be sure to share. I hope one day all of you can feel this, too. I also know this will move on and something else will take its place… and for now I will enjoy it while its here.
