Control

The best Aikidoists are always in control.

Ken Watanabe Shihan often says, “Martial arts are about bringing order to chaos.” Chaos is defined as “complete disorder and confusion.” In Japanese, one word for “chaos” is senka (戦渦). Sen means “war” and ka means “vortex.” The usage of vortex gives us the feeling that we are being sucked into something that keeps going round and round and is hard to get out of.

Interestingly, another translation of senka is “turmoil.” When chaos strikes us, our bodies and our minds go into turmoil. Our hearts begin to race, and our body's natural fight-or-flight responses start to kick in and adrenaline causes our heart rates to increase and our breathing to decrease. Stress impacts how our minds function and think which causes us to make bad decisions. The cascade of stress sucks us in like a vortex and it feels like we seemingly can never get out.

In chaotic situations, we cannot control what is thrown at us. It is said that there are seven things we cannot control: other people, the future, the past, weather, traffic, death, and taxes. This list leaves little that we actually have control over and then life begins to seem cruel and unfair.

Legendary basketball coach John Wooden once said, "You can't control what happens to you, but you can control how you respond to it.” The response that we do have control over is our kokyuu (呼吸) or “breathing.” If we can control our breathing, then we can activate our body's natural relaxation response, calm our nervous systems, lower our heart rates and reduce the release of stress hormones. This enables us to think more clearly and calmly and act accordingly. Calmness is a skill and, interestingly enough, kokyuu also means “the secret of doing something.” Thus, the secret in this sense is being able to breathe rather than just react.

One of the greatest assets we can cultivate in our Aikido training is the practice of seichu no do, do chu no sei (靜中動 動中靜) or “movement in calmness, calmness in movement.” In class, in addition to how you are moving your bodies, you should try and focus on how you are breathing. Before your partner attacks, stand up straight with your chest out and take a breath. Not a deep breath, but a short inhale and exhale through your nose. As they attack, breathe in as you move in or move away. At the moment of contact, breathe out. In Yoga, they say, “Breathing initiates movement.” Thinking about this, try to create a pattern of breathing that is in sync with your movement. Also, never hold your breath or breathe too far in or out. Throughout the technique, you should be minding your breath and asking yourself questions like: Where should I be inhaling? Where should I be exhaling? Am I holding my breath? The more you think about it, the more you become aware of it and then at some point it becomes second nature to be breathing.

Life is filled with challenges, frustrations, and setbacks that are seemingly out of our control. Training teaches us that we cannot control the external but that we can control the internal. To meet challenges with grace, we control how we breathe.

Reframe how you see conflicts and obstacles. They are only there to teach us to breathe and be present. Therefore, the only thing that any Aikidoists can do is control how they breathe and thus the best Aikidoists are always in control.

Today’s goal: When the vortex of chaos tries to pull you in, take a breath and focus on what you can control right now.

Watch this video to better understand breathing and movement

El Budoka Teach Yourself

Note: This article originally appeared in the Spanish language magazine El Budoka. It was kindly translated by Santiago Almaraz Sensei. Read it here in Spanish

Teach Yourself

The other day, a student lamented that he has been waiting for me to make him good at Aikido. I told him, “I don’t make you good, you make yourself good.” He was completely dumbfounded at the revelation that the teacher is not the primary reason why someone gets good or not. This student’s thinking is part of the modern idea that the onus of learning is placed upon the teacher. This is not an entirely new concept. In the old days, people sought out famous sages or teachers because they too thought that these wise people could somehow make them smart or successful. Today, or in times gone by, students still have to dokushuu (独習) or “teach it to themselves.”

Learning or teaching is about the dissemination of information that the student would in turn put into practice so that they can become knowledgable. Furuya Sensei once wrote, “Information and knowledge are not the same. You can get information from your computer and the internet, but you can only get knowledge when you unify your mind with your body.”

The conundrum of learning is the same as it was hundreds of years ago. In the past, teachers gave the student little to no information and they had to nusumi keiko (盗み稽古) or “steal” the knowledge from them and really put in the work outside of training. Today, the internet is filled with information and teachers today love to explain everything. That too is a trap because a student has to get good at sifting through what is correct, necessary or right in the moment and still have to put in the work to figure it out.

In the old days of learning, when someone asked a teacher for their qualifications, they would only reply that they were “kibishii.” Kibishii (厳しい) means “strict,” but strict is kind of an understatement. Kibishii, in a Budo sense, has this severity to it that can be cold, intense, or completely unreasonable. In this model, the teacher becomes our first enemy, and they typically employ fear, shame, or humiliation as their motivating tools. It was thought that it was the students job to overcome the teacher’s harsh treatment because students have iji (意地) or “willfulness” and it was the teacher’s job to turn that obstinacy into konjou (根性)) or “fighting spirit.”   In trying to defeat the teacher’s harsh treatment, the students found themselves and in turn transcended their teachers and stepped into mastery.

Nowadays, we don’t use fear, shame or humiliation. Today, we are more experienced and have scientific methods to back up how we teach people.

One of the things a good teacher imparts in their students is the ability to learn. Ideally, when we can be more self-aware and understand how we learn, we can be more efficient at the process of learning.

There are four main types of learning styles and there are another five types of learning that are situational.

The types of learners are:

Visual learners learn best by seeing it.

Auditory learners need to hear it.

Reading/writing types of learners prefer to engage their left brains in the process of learning.

Kinesthetic learners who want to use their right brain must do it to learn it.

Social learners learn things best in a group setting.

Solitary learners learn more easily alone through self-study.

Analytical type of learner needs a logic structure or a plan that makes sense to them.

Verbal learners have to talk out loud about something to learn it.

Naturalistic learners learn best outside while connecting with nature.

How do you know what your primary type of learner you are? I ask people, “If you needed directions, how would you want me to give you the directions?” Visual learners want me to draw them a map or write out the steps so that they can see it. Auditory learners only need me to tell them how to get there. Reading or writing types want to copy my map or write down what I say. Kinesthetic learners only need to be taken there once and they can remember it. Whichever method resonates with you is your primary style of learning. From there you combine that with other styles of learning or situational types that suit you

In class, we can touch base with many different learning styles at the same time such as visual, auditory, kinesthetic, analytic, social and sometimes even naturalistic. Coming to class and receiving instruction from one’s teacher is the tried and true method of learning. The teacher distills down what is necessary and gives the student the foundations and parameters and points them in the right direction.

From there, the student can just show up and wait for osmosis to make them good, but that way is devoid of passion. The fire and the passion come from our desire to know. In trying to figure it out, we spend time thinking about it or moving our bodies outside of class. There is a great scene in both the Japanese and American versions of Shall We Dance, where the main character is caught practicing the dance moves when he thinks nobody is watching. He does this because he is passionate to learn and in doing so works it out and teaches it to himself. As the Confucian philosopher Xunzi once stated “Tell me and I forget, teach me and I remember, involve me and I learn.”

The word sensei (先生) is literally translated as “one who comes before.” It does not mean god or deity nor does it imply that this person has some sort of supernatural power. The teacher is merely a guide illuminating a path for us that helps bring us to our greater selves. My calligraphy teacher Kuniharu Yoshida Sensei said, “Having a teacher is the ultimate shortcut because they tell you what to look at, where to look and how to look at it.” The best know that no one is coming to save them and that success in whatever endeavor we choose is solely based upon putting in the work and how we learn to teach it to ourselves.

Focus on The Good

The best Aikidoists focus on the good.

As the year comes to an end, it is easy to discount the good and only focus on the bad. This is called negative bias where our minds hyper focus on all the goals that didn’t get achieved or the heights that we failed to reach.

There is nothing wrong with this way of thinking and many use it as strong motivation to start the next year strong. This way of thinking is evolutionarily based in our brains where we are hardwired to prioritize threats. Looking for threats activates our amygdala which is supposed to trigger a stronger and faster response for survival. This is sometimes referred to as the "bad is stronger than good" principle where negative thoughts and experiences are supposedly more powerful than positive ones. Here our minds remember more vividly and powerfully the negative ones more than positive ones which makes them harder to forget. This enables us to learn from our mistakes.

In the dojo, we are supposed to be cultivating a practice of being able to see and capitalize on opportunities when our partners are weak. These moments of weakness are called suki (隙) or “openings.” Most times, these openings happen in a flash and are like a tell in poker. A tell is “any physical, verbal, or behavioral clue, often unconscious, that reveals information about a player's hand strength or intentions, giving opponents an advantage if they can read it.” The more we train, the more we become adept at reading other people’s weak points.

To do this, we should be looking for instances of wasted motion. Wasted motions are things like holding one’s breath, lapses in balance, or moments of bad posture to name just a few. They are wasted because they don’t add anything to the technique and actually take away resources like focus, power, or energy. One way to see these openings is to look at our partners in a segmented way and see how these parts smoothly interact within the whole like the inner workings of a Swiss watch. Do the feet move with the hips? Do they lean forward to create momentum? Do they take a deep breath just prior to starting the technique? Questions like these reveal the smallest details and give away someone’s intention or give us clues as to how they generate power.

Reading someone is supposed to become an everyday ordinary thing. The problem with that is it can accidentally make us into a negative person. Friedrich Nietzsche said, "If you gaze long enough into an abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.” Nietzsche's quote cautions us that focusing too long on negativity can corrupt us and “make us into the thing we are observing.” Thus, negativity begets negativity and can accidentally carry over into our daily lives.

As we end the year, we must remember as Shakespeare once wrote, “All's well that ends well.” It ends well by focusing on the good even if it is the size of a grain of sand. If negative begets negative, then positive begets positive. If that is true, then changing our lives is merely a change in focus. We must trust that what happens to us is happening for us and that begins by focusing on the positive and letting go of the negative. 2025 is ending, but there is still time left to change the way we see our world. Shakespeare also wrote, "There is nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so.” Understanding that is why the best Aikidoists remain positive no matter what.

Today’s goal: Embrace that everything has a way of working out.

Thank you for reading my blog. These are just letters to myself reminding me that I too am a work in progress. Wishing you all the best in 2026 ~ David

Watch this short video with former Navy Seal Jocko Willink talking about Good

It is Not Over Yet

From the Aikido Center of Los Angeles’ Aiki Dojo Message - It is Not Over Yet

If you are reading this, it is not over yet.

A while back, a TV show called me about doing an interview about the samurai. The producer asked me, “Why do the samurai love death?” I said, “They don’t.” I explained that through their training, they realize the buddhist concept of mujou (無常) or “impermanence” and the eventuality of their own deaths. They learned that life was transitory and that nothing is guaranteed other than death and this one single moment. Understanding this, they learned how to live knowing that they were going to die and tried to live a lifetime between each moment. Subsequently, I didn’t get the job.

Within one calendar year there are 8,760 hours, 525,600 minutes, or 31,536,000 seconds. Time and dates are man-made constructs and so we really don’t miraculously change as the year changes. Measuring the passing of time just allows us to create a sense of order within ourselves or in our lives. But one thing that measuring time can do for us is help us to stop wasting time.

One interpretation of Charles Dickens’ A Christmas Carol is this idea that no matter how late it seems, there is still the possibility of change. Scrooge is visited by all these ghosts who show him the folly of his ways. The most poignant moment comes as they show him his death and only then does Scrooge realize that he has been living his life all wrong. He awakens with the joy that there is still enough time to redeem himself.

In Aikido, the training is supposed to be a mirror which reflects back to us those things which we need to address. Every experience that we have in Aikido is trying to teach us something about ourselves. Those students who think that other people or other things are to blame are like Scrooge. The experiences on the mat are like the ghosts. Thus, on a certain level, the only thing left is the realization. Like the samurai and Scrooge, we must somehow become sober enough to have the realization that our life is our own and that in this one single moment we get to choose. As Anaïs Nin said, "We see the world not as it is, but as we are.” Thus, everything that happens to us is a mirror reflection of our inner state that only we have control over.

The bulk of Aikido movement is irimi or “moving in.” Existentially, we can see irimi in terms of Life and moving into our goals or fears. Not in a confrontational way but in a way that helps us to learn things about ourselves that would ordinarily remain hidden in our day to day lives. Later as we master irimi, we add in other movements like tenshin or “moving back” or tenkan or “turning” and apply those concepts to how we live Life.

There are nine days left of the year. Thus, there is still time left to make our goals happen or at least put in a sizable dent into them. “To admit defeat,” the Japanese say ne wo ageru (音を上げる). Ne means “noise” and ageru means “to stop.” One can posit that to admit defeat is to stop making noise. Nothing happens overnight but nothing will happen if we just sit there quietly and do nothing. As the samurai learned, they alone have the power to live life to its fullest and that begins with choosing to change how we think and what we do. If you are reading this, there’s still time to right the course of your ship and choose to live the life you have been waiting for.

Today’s goal: There is still time left, keep banging away because there might not be a tomorrow.

Watch this video to better understand how to use your time wisely

Together

The best Aikidoists improve each another.

Earlier this year, I saw an old senpai (先輩) or “senior” of mine who was a real jerk to me 30+ years ago. He was so mean to me that on my second day, he beat me up because he got frustrated for one reason or another. Now, whenever I see him, he likes to jokingly remind me how horrible I was when I started and that he is still my senpai. For years, I used to secretly hate him because he was always so mean to me (even now my elbow is still injured because of him). When I passed the test for shodan or “first degree black belt,” he reached out his hand to congratulated me and said, “I knew you could do it.”

As a beginner, I didn’t understand that mastery is only because of soudai (相待) or “interdependence." Soudai is a Buddhist term which also means “in opposition.” Therefore, the paradox of mastery is that it only can occur when we simultaneously work together in mutual opposition of one another. In the west we say, “iron sharpens iron.” This means that when a harder piece of iron is drawn against a softer piece of iron or steel, it can sharpen the softer piece. Irons with a similar hardness can still sharpen one another, but it's a slower process which also can wear down both pieces at the same time. In Japanese, they don’t have this idiom so they say sessatakuma (切磋琢磨) or that improve is a result of “the mutual encouragement to improve.” Thus, we have to go up against bigger or stronger opponents or choose harder paths because that opposition helps us to find our highest level.

In class, we sessatakuma by how much resistance we give to our training partners. How much resistance we give them depends on their level or capacity. Furuya Sensei used to say, “Take it to their level and one step further.” He said “one step” because he knew that growth happens just outside of our comfort zones. Therefore, that one step can either destroy or develop a student. Too much resistance is to tatakau (戦う) or “to wage war” upon them and can destroy them. Too little does nothing to push them out of their comfort zone. Just the right amount uncomfortableness enables us to katahadanugu (片肌脱ぐ) or “to lend a helping hand” in their development.

The literal translation of katahadanugu is “to bare one shoulder.” What training is trying to teach us to be better people who help instead of hurt - we choose compassion over contempt. Thus, in order to be of service to others, when we see that they are struggling we should slide in and bare one shoulder. In a training sense, we take on the responsibility to help this person improve by applying just the right amount of resistance which helps instead of hurts.

When I look back now on my time with that senpai, I realize that he had to be a jerk because that is what I needed. I am the type of person who’s potential and capacity are as such that I need something or someone to strongly push against. Thus, I needed him to be a jerk because I could take it and I couldn’t grow without it. In Aikido and in Life, within the greater opponents or obstacles lies the greatest opportunities for improvement.

Today’s goal: When something uncomfortable happens, don’t forget that “everything happens for you, not to you.”

Watch this short video of Japanese kids doing sessatakuma

Falling

The best Aikidoists know that there is a right time and right way to let someone fall.

There is this interesting thing that some beginners do when they are trying to throw their partners down - they try and hold them up. As their partner is falling, they contort their bodies or lose their own posture and balance in order to soften the fall. This is a beautiful piece of human nature - when people fall, we try to catch them. As these beginners become more experienced, they don’t contort their bodies anymore, but they are still trying to “hold them up” so to speak. When I watch, there is this point where the person can easily be thrown down because their uke’s balance is broken, but the nage doesn’t take advantage of it and kind of holds them up while they are throwing them. By doing this, they never truly gain the feeling of what it feels like to throw someone down when their balance is broken. Part of training is to learn when a person’s balance is broken and can be thrown down. We can’t find this feeling or timing if we hold them up. I am not advocating for people to smash people. We should allow our partners to fall not because we don’t care but because this is a part of both of our training. From this place, we gain the feeling of when and how it is appropriate to throw someone down and they learn to feel what it feels like to fall and how to protect themselves when this happens.

Learning to let people fall and be thrown down is necessary because, in a circuitous way, we are trying to refine our sense of awareness. All martial arts teach their proponents to search for suki (隙) or “openings” or “weak spots” to exploit. Aikido takes this idea a step further and uses those openings not to destroy but to give grace. Ideally, if we can sense, feel, or know the moment when a person can be thrown down, then we would have developed a sense of awareness where we can read our opponents. Anyone can punch someone in the face. What’s harder is to be able to peer into a person’s psyche and realize that they are suffering and are only attacking us to vent out their suffering. This is my understanding of O’Sensei’s philosophy of non-violence. If that is true and we too are suffering and would want kindness, compassion, and forgiveness when we are suffering, then we have to give it to get it.

Later on in our training, we have to return back to holding others up. But, this time, we hold them up because it is what the moment necessitates. Sometimes people need to be held up while other times they need to be thrown down. The trick is in knowing one from the other and that stems from awareness.

It is easy for us to lose our way - it happens to the best of us. The true ardent of Aikido knows that in Aikido and in Life, there is a right way and a right time to do everything. When is it the right time and place to hold someone up? I don’t know, what feels right? Only by letting others fall, do we gain the understanding of when, where and how to hold them up.

Today’s goal: As yourself, “In this situation, is this a time to hold this up or let it fall?”

Mercy

Editor’s note: This article was translated by Santiago Almaraz Sensei and originally appeared in the November 1st issue of the Spanish language magazine El Budoka 2.0.

In The Karate Kid movie, the villainous sensei John Kreese’s mantra was, “We do not train to be merciful. Mercy is for the weak. Here, in the streets, in competition: A man confronts you, he is the enemy. An enemy deserves no mercy.” This type of thinking is incredibly short-sighted and demonstrates Kreese’s naiveté about the trajectory of Japanese traditional martial arts because the true martial artist trains to acquire the inner strength to be kind, compassionate, and, most of all, considerate.

This “no mercy” mentality is pervasive in modern martial arts today as most self-proclaimed “real” martial artists overly concern themselves with effectiveness. This is not bad or wrong; it is just part of the natural evolution of the martial artist. Effectiveness or dominating others is just a low-level way to think about oneself and just shows our lack of sophistication and our shortsightedness about what a Japanese traditional art is all about. Martial artists who crave effectiveness do so not to reach the highest level of their art. Most times, they strive for effectiveness as a way to manage their own fears and self-doubts.

A true martial artist does not concern themselves with defeating others because they know that the real battle rages within. William Butler Yeats confirmed this when he said, “It takes more courage to examine the dark corners of your own soul than it does for a soldier to fight on a battlefield.”

Japanese culture is filled with concepts that reassure us of the importance of other people from amae (甘え) or “depending on others” to giri (義理) or “the debt we owe others.”  Understanding the role that other people play in our lives, it is not hard to realize that at the pinnacle of one’s training, a true martial artist strives to not only have the courage but the inner strength to be kind, compassionate, or considerate of others.

This idea of thinking about others can be seen in what a Japanese swordsman trains to do: perfect one’s cut so that it kills with only one cut. Although effectiveness is the process, the real goal is to be merciful. This harkens back to the Japanese cultural idea of being considerate as it was thought that hacking away at someone until they eventually die would cause them undue pain and suffering. Thus, to give them mercy, they eliminate them with only one cut. Also, it is thought that killing is bad despite it being a samurai’s job. Furuya Sensei once wrote: “It is said that there is a special hell where warriors who die a violent death in battle go to which is a kind of hell called Ashura (阿修羅). From this scene, many famous poems were written. One line from a great poem is ‘all that is left of these brave warriors.’ And another line is ‘warriors are indeed a sad lot!’ What this means is that warriors should never glorify themselves because their job is the killing of others and it is not a job to be proud of because it will always lead them to Ashura.”

Thinking about one’s opponent is a constant concern for the samurai. This is because to the samurai, there is no difference between they and them. Both were cut from the same cloth. What they had to do to train themselves to face us is the same process that we had to endure to face them. So there is some sympathy for one’s opponent because of the shared suffering. So much so that the samurai begins to revere their opponent.

Furuya Sensei used to tell this story about how some samurai would burn incense before battle and let the smoke waft and build up in their helmets just before putting it on. They supposedly did this so that if they fell in battle, their victor would get a small reward when they took off their opponent’s helmet after cutting off their head. The reward was the “fragrance” or keikou (馨香) and was a momentary respite from the blood, guts, and carnage of fighting. It was a kind of a little inside joke or pun between the two because the fragrance smells nice but the word keikou can also mean “honor,” or “fame.”

Effectiveness is about doing something to others while being considerate is about doing something for others. Both are prepositions but "to" often shows movement towards while "for" usually means an action on behalf of someone else. When talking about being considerate, Furuya Sensei once also wrote about something called ryoushin (良心).  He wrote, “One of the many things we must maintain throughout our training is called ‘ryoushin' which means ‘good mind.’ Of course, our practice is directed towards developing ourselves physically, mentally and spiritually in the art of Aikido, but there is one more consideration which must never be forgotten. "Good mind” means that we must always think and work for the sake of others. First of all, this means to be kind and considerate to our teachers and classmates on and off the mats. But eventually, we must extend this "good mind” to our family and friends and co-workers and then to strangers and all those all around us. Ultimately, we must express this to the whole world and all living sentient creatures and beings. We emphasize modesty and humility in our practice, but some students do not appreciate the spiritual aspects of the art and look at others as objects or toys to be played with, no considerate of the feelings of others.”

Trying to explain ryoushin, Furuya Sensei called it “good mind” but its dictionary definition is “conscience.” The conscience is “an inner feeling or voice viewed as acting as a guide to the rightness or wrongness of one's behavior.” Thus at the pinnacle of one’s training, a true martial artist strives to be kind, compassionate, or, at the very least, considerate of others because they have a conscience and have discovered their humanity through training. The Japanese culturally believe in being considerate and putting others before themselves so much that there is even an old idiom: keieiichinyo (形影一如) which means that “a person's deed mirrors the good or evil of their mind.”

We all want to be effective but that shouldn’t come at the expense of others. Anyone can beat someone up - it takes no training. Only a true martial artist can have the inner strength to give kindness, mercy or compassion especially when they are being attacked. Hurting others or being considerate shows our true real character. Those who are unable to be considerate demonstrate to us who they really are. Being considerate, especially when someone doesn’t deserve it, is the greatest gift we can give to not only others but to ourselves as well. That is because kindness, compassion, and forgiveness is truly what all of us really want - ourselves included.

Leverage

The best Aikidoist understands leverage.

In Aikido, the outcome depends on where and when we apply leverage but also in our intention. In Japanese, “to leverage one’s skills or abilities” is ikasu (生かす).

To study Aikido is to become aware. Not just aware of our surroundings and others but to become self-aware. We need to be aware to the point that we can look into our training partners eyes and know just how much to throw them or just how hard to attack them. We also need to be self-aware enough to be cognizant of not only what we are doing, but also why we are doing it. Being aware is a subtle knowing which enables us to enhance the quality of not only other people’s training but also enhance the quality of their lives.

Within every technique there are several mechanisms which make the technique “work.” When we are new to Aikido, we use a lot of physical strength in our upper bodies to make the techniques work. As we become more experienced, we find ways to “work smarter not harder.” The trick is in knowing one from the other.

For instance, when we want kotegaeshi to work, we can rely upon pain compliance and mechanically facilitate the throw by cranking the other person’s wrist until we get what we want. This mechanical breaking of a person’s balance to facilitate a throw or technique is referred to as kuzushi (崩し) and is what we see in other arts like Judo or Karate. Kuzushi literally translates to mean “to break,” “to pull down,” or “to destroy.” Later on in our Aikido training, our technique becomes more sophisticated and we try and transcend this physical idea of pushing, or pulling and try to cultivate something called aiki (合氣). On the outside aiki looks like we upend a person’s balance by how we move and how they react to our movement, but it is more complicated than that. Within aiki there are also aspects of timing, reaction, and spacing but also in what we think and how we make them think.

It is important we strive for aiki because on a certain level kuzushi requires us to destroy our opponents. This is not necessarily bad - it depends on where we are in our development. If all we are concerned with is effectiveness and beating people up, then kuzushi is all we need. If we are trying to understand O’Sensei’s philosophy of non-violence, then we need to understand not only how to move but also how to think which doesn’t lead to their destruction. Interestingly, when we look deeper into the word for to leverage or ikasu, it can also mean “to let live,” “to keep alive,” and “to bring back to life.” With that understanding we can posit that to leverage one’s skill is to save another’s life.

Most times in Life and in Aikido, we don’t even realize that we are engaging in forms of subtle self-destruction with the way we eat, with the way we live our lives, or how we treat one another on the mat to name just a few. Philosophically, the other does not exist and thus intentionally hurting others is a form of self-destruction because to destroy others is to destroy ourselves. Realizing this, the best Aikidoists understand that leverage depends on what we want the outcome to be.

Today’s goal: Leverage your skills to be the light not the darkness in other people’s lives.

Allow

“Those who flow as life flows know they need no other force.” - Lao Tzu

In Aikido, the best allow the technique to work.

Most of us think that life is for the taking and so we spend a tremendous amount of time forcing things to happen. Up to a certain point, this carpe diem mindset works quite well and even brings us a certain amount of success. It even helps us along the way in the beginning of our Aikido training. Then, after a while, something happens and forcing things is no longer a functional strategy for improvement in our Aikido training.

Furuya Sensei said, “Every technique hides a secret that can only be unlocked with diligent training.” One way to look at what he said is that every technique has a mechanism or many mechanisms which make it work. In route to finding those secrets, we tend to force the technique to work. It takes a bit of time to settle down and just allow the technique to work because we think that we are somehow in control and have the power to make things happen.

Allowing the technique to work means that there is a right time and method of employing leverage which makes the technique successful. When we push, pull, let go or hold at just the right moment, the technique effortlessly unfolds, and we can take our opponent’s balance and fell them with ease. Along the way, we start by applying our efforts in the wrong place and at the wrong time and must muscle the technique to work.

In Aikido training, beginners are always trying to force it. It takes a few years for them to start to calm down and allow the technique to work. An interesting phenomenon is that after shodan or first-degree black belt, students again return back to trying to force the technique to work. Then somewhere around fourth degree black belt, the student settles down and starts allowing the technique to work again. Typically, this happens because of fear. Not so much about being afraid but a fear that they don’t know or understand the technique and they don’t want to seem incapable and so they start forcing it.

One of the many things we are trying to cultivate in our training is heijoushin (平常心). Heijoushin means “original mind” or “ordinary mind” and it was the mind that we were originally born with before life and conditioning changed us. The direct translation is "peace of mind” as hei means “peace,” jou means “ordinary” and shin means “mind.” Thus, it means the everyday ordinary mind is at peace.

A heijoushin mind is balanced and composed which allows it to move freely and not react to the opponent’s attack. Here, we are in an equanimous state and can observe and engage appropriately. Conversely, when we are hyper focused on forcing this thing to happen, our minds go into something called shishin (止心) or “a stopped mind.” This mental state becomes so preoccupied on a single aspect that it can only react to the advances of the opponent and thus, the body cannot move freely.

In Aikido and in Life, things will happen and, most of the time, we will be confronted by things that are seemingly out of our control. Training teaches us to not force things but to constantly act with inner peace and presence of mind even under the most dire of circumstances or conditions.

The best Aikidoists aren’t the best because they are the physically strongest. They are the best because they have achieved a calm mindset which allows them to know where and when to apply leverage and thus they never force things to happen.

Today’s goal: If it doesn’t fit, don’t force it - find a way to allow it to happen.

Hold Them Up

The best Aikidoists know when to throw someone down or when to hold them up.

There is a moment within every technique when our partner momentarily loses their balance and can easily be thrown down. However, there is an interesting bit of human instinct where we try to catch people as they are falling down.

In class, lots of times, when we are supposed to be throwing our partners down, we are unconsciously hold them up. It makes the throw mechanical and ineffective even if we aren’t aware that we are even doing it.

This tendency is reflexive but it’s a good thing and is probably because it demonstrates that the student is a good person and is naturally only “trying to help.” However, this is bad for training because we are supposed to be throwing them down and may never get the sense of what it feels like to break someone’s balance and actually be throwing them. Not only that but this instinct can cause us to get injured as we try to hold them up and end up lifting their body weight. Regardless, the good thing is that, whether we know it or not, we felt the moment when their balance broke. Once we realize we are holding them up, we should try and actively resist this instinct and throw our partner down at that moment. Remember, it is training and throwing someone down in this environment is safe and even warranted in this situation.

Later in our training, we return back to our natural instinct and learn to use it to let our partner down gently. What that means is that not only is there a moment when their balance is broken, and we can use it to make the throw more devastating but there is also a moment and a way to cradle our opponent to make the throw less devastating. What I mean is that there is a right way and right time to ease them down to the ground. This is what makes it Aikido. Most other martial arts cannot moderate the power of the technique, or at least never cultivate the level, to make it gentle or hard depending on the circumstance or desired outcome. Aikidoist train to have the wherewithal to choose how and when to dispatch their opponent.

In Aikido and in Life, we have to know the right moment to catch a person as they are falling. It is a universal truth that everyone suffers and that is why O’Sensei advocated for non-violence. It is part of our training as practitioners of Aikido to know when someone is in need and are falling. Most times, things happen so quickly that there is no time to think and so we have to go by instinct or feel. If we throw when we should be catching, we run the risk of making that person’s situation worse. If we can catch them at just the right moment, perhaps we can save a life. So there is a time to throw a person down and a time to hold them up. The trick is in knowing which is which.

Today’s goal: Try to catch people that are falling but just remember some of them may also need to be thrown down too.

Watch this video to better understand Aikido and self-awareness

Support One Another

The best Aikidoists support one another.

In Japanese, one way to say “support one another” is sasaeau (支え合う). In Aikido and in Life, every person comes to us to either teach us a lesson or test our mastery. We should support one other because one of Life’s fundamental lessons is that every person suffers and thus is in need of kindness, compassion, and forgiveness - just like we do.

Throughout our careers as Aikidoists, there will always be someone that is difficult to deal with. It is easy to avoid this person and even easier to act against them. This is not the Aikido way. The way that we should look at it is that this person is a gift from whatever higher power we believe in and sent to us to teach us or test us. The more this person irks us or tries to harm us, the more it is a lesson beckoning us to change. We must learn to change how we see this person and look beyond the presenting circumstances. Aikido does not teach us to destroy this person no matter how justified we think we are. Aikido teaches us to irimi or move into the attack. From that position, we align with them and, in most cases, are facing the same direction. This allows us to see what they see or take their perspective. On a higher level of consciousness, when we can see what they see, we can realize their suffering. If we can see that everyone suffers, we can learn to not see this person as our enemy but as a human being in need of support. When we make mistakes or act out our suffering on others, we want kindness rather than destruction. Thus, we don’t destroy those in need, we support them.

There is this great scene in 1958 movie, The Loyal 47 Ronin where the ronin are moving across territories in order to avenge the forced suicide of their leader. They are using forged papers and are caught by the person whose signature they have forged. When confronted, their leader, Oishi throws himself at this person’s mercy and tells him their real motive. Hearing about their plight, he lets them go. It’s an emotional moment and moved by his kindness, Oishi says, “Fellow samurai must support each other. We are never so keenly grateful for the kindness of others as when we have fallen on hard times.” Most times, we really only learn true gratitude when we have fallen to our lowest point, and someone shows us a bit of kindness.

Compassion is defined as “sympathetic pity and concern for the sufferings or misfortunes of others.” Because we suffer and have been there, we understand. In that moment we can choose to be the villain or hero in this person’s story. In Donald Miller’s book Hero on a Mission, he states that “heroes and villains often share a similar backstory of experiencing pain, but their fundamental difference lies in their response to that pain. A villain lets pain lead to revenge and a desire to hurt the world back, while a hero uses the pain as motivation to prevent others from suffering the same fate.” Aikidoists understand this and instead of taking it personally, we give them kindness, compassion, and forgiveness. After all this person or circumstance has been sent to us to help us become not only better Aikidoists but better human beings.

Remember, if everything happens for us, then nothing is happening to us and thus this person is a gift helping us to reach our highest level. Try to see that everyone is going through something. If we can do that, we have begun to learn Aikido. We are never so keenly grateful for the kindness of others as when we have fallen on hard times. We have been there and understand and that’s why we should support one another.

Today’s goal: As His Holiness the Dalai Lama once said, "Our prime purpose in this life is to help others. And if you can't help them, at least don't hurt them.”

Watch this video to better understand heroes vs. villains

Despite it All

The best Aikidoists act despite it all.

Often, the average person waits and waits hoping that the ideal or right conditions will somehow arise. They are waiting to react to the right timing, condition, or situation in order to be successful. Aikidoist don’t react - we are proactive. A person who studies Aikido has come to understand that most times, the conditions, the timing, or anything else might not be ideal so regardless of what’s happening or how we feel, we act despite it all. "Despite it all" means “To do something regardless of all the difficulties, problems, or hardships that have occurred or are happening.”

It is said that every technique has its own unique rhythm or timing but grasping that tempo can be difficult. Being able to visualize or “see” the timing of the technique requires a developed eye and an understanding of the technique. Getting to this place should be organic in that it is an awareness that develops over time. Most students try to jump here by consciously “thinking” their way there. Instead, students should try to gain a feeling of the rhythm of the technique which only requires time and repetition on the technique. Grasping the feeling means gaining a subconsciously internal feeling for the correct timing which, at the beginning, can’t be consciously articulated.

Greek philosopher Aristotle said, "Well begun is half done.” Understanding this, knowing when to engage our partner or attack is a large part of grasping the timing of the technique. Beginners are typically on the late side while more intermediate students are usually too early. The beginner is late because they are in a sort of analysis paralysis. They think that timing is a matter of seeing the attack or engagement and moving but conscious thought is too slow, and they end up getting caught thinking and are always trying to catch up. The more intermediate students are often times too early because they are trying to anticipate. Both haven’t internalized the timing of the technique. Neither are right or wrong as both are just part of the learning process. When we go isn’t necessarily the problem as long as we go at some point because the only truly wrong timing is to not go at all.

Basketball great Jerry West once said, “You can't get much done in life if you only work on the days when you feel good.” In Life and Aikido, this is true as well. Most days, the doldrums can seem unbearable so we tell ourselves the story that the optimal conditions will arise and save us. So, we wait and wait for the opportunity to react to the right conditions or circumstances. That is not how Life works nor is it how Aikido works. Furuya Sensei would often quote his Zen master Bishop Kenko Yamashita as saying, “Nandemo omoidori ni ikanai” which means “Nothing goes the way you want it to.” This is one of those Zen sayings which is supposed to compel us to give up on perfection and act despite it all. Thus, because nothing goes the way we want it to, an Aikidoist is proactive.

Sometimes waiting is a good thing. Sometimes acting is better. Knowing which is which requires having an internal timing for the situation at hand. Most of us get caught up in the thinking and forego the feeling. Most times it is better to just go even if the conditions aren’t right. That’s why the best Aikidoists act despite it all.

Today’s goal: Don’t wait - tomorrow is not guaranteed.

Familiarity

The best Aikidoists never let their bodies forget.

Over the weekend, the dojo went camping and I was surprised at how hard the ground was. I spent several years as a boy scout and have gone camping numerous times and I don’t recall the ground being so hard. Lying there in my uncomfortableness, I remembered something Furuya Sensei used to say quite often: “Every day, hold your sword.”

What Furuya Sensei was talking about was tenareru (手慣れる) or “familiarity” or rather how not to lose familiarity. With regards to sleeping on the ground, there is a primitive sense that our bodies had that we have kind of lost with the advent of modern technology and the comfort that it brings. I am not advocating for people to start sleeping on the ground, but it might be a good idea occasionally. For Aikido or swordsmanship, tenareru  means “to get familiar with” in terms of a skill acquisition. Familiarity is about the ephemeralness of skill. If we don’t use it, we lose it and the only way not to lose it is with regular practice.

Aikido is a paradox. Although it is a martial art, its aim is to destroy the Self and not the other. The techniques in Aikido can be metaphoric in that there are philosophical teachings buried inside them. For instance, in zagi kokyu-ho, we have to learn how to not resist or fight with our partner in order to move them. The more we use physical strength, the harder or more difficult it is, and we end up getting into a pushing match or deadlocked in struggle.

From the standpoint of the sword, we must conform to the sword and not vice versa. If we hold and cut with it incorrectly, the sword could break or become impaled in our opponent. To insure that doesn’t happen, we have to set the hasuji (刃筋) or “cutting angle” correctly. One way we do this is by how we grip the sword. This is not something that one spends any time thinking about when they pick up the sword and start fighting. This is something that they have trained themselves to do without thinking. If we don’t touch our sword regularly, we run the risk of losing familiarity with it. This could be detrimental and that is why Furuya Sensei reminds us: “Every day, hold your sword.”

The same goes for Aikido. Some of us have a natural tendency to resist or fight which may or may not be a conscious act. Thus, we have to unlearn that tendency and learn to awaseru (合わせる) or “move with” our partner and their attack. The more we do it, the better we get at it and the more it becomes a habit. If we don’t do it regularly, then we run the risk of falling back into our old resistive strategies.

Students often ask me how to get good at Aikido. The answer is as old as time. The only way to get good at anything is with constancy and consistency. We don’t have to train every day, but we should have a regular training schedule. In between classes, we should make time to at least pick up our sword or practice some aspect like footwork or some hand movement. This keeps us familiar with Aikido. Therefore, if we take Furuya Sensei’s advice and hold our sword every day, we just might make Aikido a habit and stop fighting every person we meet. The best Aikidoists never let their bodies forget because they never lose familiarity and thus “Every day, hold your sword.”

Today’s goal: Do one thing today to stay familiar with your practice.

Tread Lightly

“It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. I was so preposterously serious in those days… Lightly, lightly – it’s the best advice ever given me…So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling…”

- Aldous Huxley, Island

To the best Aikidoists tread lightly.

In the old days, martial arts dojos would hang a sign in the front of the school with three symbols: a sickle (kama), a circle (wa) or rice bowl (wan) and the Japanese symbol ぬ (nu). The sign was a play on words that meant kamawanu or “I don’t care.” It was supposed to be a pun warning anyone who entered the dojo “to watch their step” because they don’t care and have the confidence to fight you if need be.

As practitioners of Budo, we must always “watch our step” because how we move our feet matters. “Footwork” in Japanese is ashisabaki (足捌き). In Aikido, there are six footworks: sliding forward, sliding backwards, stepping forwards, stepping backwards, turning, and the lesser used side stepping. Each one of these dictates how we move in or away from our opponent or how we generate or redirect power. Footwork is also what we use to set up the technique. Footwork is something that the ardent practitioner spends years, if not decades trying to perfect.

In addition to the method of moving one’s feet, we should also be concerned with the quality of our step or, rather, how we step and how it affects our balance and weight distribution. If we are ashibayai (足速い) or “light-footed” that means either we are moving our feet fast or lightly. If we are ashigaomoi (足が重い) or “heavy footed,” then our feet are heavy or rooted.

Throughout the course of the technique, there are times when our footwork should be light and there are times when it should be heavy. The trick is to know when to be heavy or when to be light. Some think that the feet are light the whole time and only heavy at the end. Others believe that it should never be heavy. One goal in Aikido training is to be able to root our “center” or tanden (丹田) but at the same time still be able to move our feet swiftly and appropriately. So, with this understanding, our footwork is then just an expression of the state of our center and thus the center is heavy, but the feet are light.

Interestingly, another meaning of ashigaomoi is “to be unwilling” which leads us to believe that having heavy feet is not a good attribute for either a good uke or nage. If the nage has heavy feet and is unwilling to move, they will get hit. If the uke has heavy feet and has to be dragged around the mat, then they will get injured.

Huxley’s words remind us to go lightly. Step lightly. Go lightly on others but, more importantly, go lightly on ourselves. It is only dark because we are trying too hard. The goal of Aikido is not to destroy others. The true goal of Aikido is to learn to go with the spirit of lightly.

Today’s goal: No matter what happens today, go lightly.

No Opponents

To the best Aikidoists, there are no opponents.

In Japanese, one word for “opponent” is aite (相手). Ai means “together” and te means “hand.” This goes along with the other definition of aite which is “companion” or “partner.” Whichever definition we use is based upon how we see the person challenging us and it dictates how or what we do.

Thus, it is necessary to make this distinction for us to reach the height that we want to reach in our training. The word opponent has an unconscious negative connotation which implies danger and brings about fear and other negative emotions like anger. So, we might not move in as deep or create an advantageous position because of this. Conversely, the word partner has a more neutral tone and gives us the feeling of someone who is working with us rather than against us. This enables us to do things which we wouldn’t ordinarily do like move in closer into the proper spacing. Changing the connotation of the person confronting us enables us to train with our partner without this air of hesitancy. We train with our partners so that we can defeat our opponents later on.

They say that the best Aikidoists command timing and spacing. Interestingly, there is no Japanese word for “timing.” Most just use the Japanized word timingu. One reason could be because, in a martial arts sense, timing and spacing are synonymous. The word for “spacing” in swordsmanship is maai (間合い) and means “the distance between opponents.” It can also be used when discussing the “suitable time” in terms of doing something. It is thought that if one can dictate the spacing, then they would automatically control the timing and vice versa.

This is where the concept of the partner versus opponent comes into play. In training, if the person attacking us is our opponent, then along with that distinction comes fear, stress, and/or negative emotions like anger. This simple label could disable us from moving into the proper spacing or alignment with them out of trepidation and so we never truly learn the right positioning or spacing.

If we can see them as our partner, we don’t have the same fear or emotional baggage and thus we can get into the right position with the right spacing using the right footwork. This lack of negative connotation in a controlled circumstance enables us to learn what the proper spacing or positioning not only looks like but feels like too. In any real encounter, seeing and thinking are too slow. We have to go by feeling or in other words intuition. Getting the feeling is what makes getting into the proper spacing second nature.

Over time, not seeing the person as our attacker, begins to become our everyday mindset. Thus, if no opponent exists, then there is no one to blame, get mad at, or vent our anger towards. And so, anger, negativity or another fear then become unproductive and so we stop engaging in them.

Our perception creates our reality. As Anaïs Nin said, “We don't see the world as it is, we see it as we are.” Thus, if we can shift our minds from looking for negativity (aka an opponent) to realizing that peace, positivity, and abundance are all around us, then not only our Aikido but our daily lives begin to change.

This is not an automatic process. This is a mindset to cultivate, and this can only begin when in class we see the person attacking us as our partner instead of our opponent. That is why to the best Aikidoists, there are no opponents.

Today’s goal: Remember everything that happens is happening for you not to you and thus there are no opponents or enemies.

Be Transparent

From the Aikido Center of Los Angeles’ Aiki Dojo Message - Be Transparent

The best Aikidoists strive to be transparent.

Transparent is a metaphor which means that our ability to be calm is so developed that we seem transparent to the anything that is trying to hurt us or disturb us.

The goal of Aikido is not to make ourselves indestructible but rather imperturbable. Indestructible is defined as “not being able to be destroyed.” To be imperturbable means “unable to be upset or excited; calm.” Indestructible is a physical construct and is finite and thus can be torn down. Imperturbable is mental and is infinite and its resiliency, if trained properly, cannot be  disturbed, penetrated, or destroyed. In Japanese, the word for “transparent” is sumu (澄む) but another definition is “to become serene or tranquil.”

In the beginning of our training, we don’t know how to breathe properly nor do we know how to move appropriately. This causes us to absorb too much of the energy from our opponent’s attack. In addition to the technique being taught, these are two of the main things that Aikido students should focus on. Students should try to move with the attack even if their feet aren’t moving properly or efficiently. What’s most important is to move without freezing up. Later on, our feet will begin to move with speed and power, and movement will become more efficient.

The same goes for breathing or more importantly not holding our breath. At the moment of being attacked, our stress response causes us to hold our breath. Holding our breath raises our heart rate which activates our sympathetic nervous system aka stress and stress causes us to act inappropriately or inefficiently. First things first, try to notice if we are holding our breath. Gradually over time this awareness will enable us to stop holding our breath and begin to breathe more efficiently and thus we can focus on staying calm. We want get to a place where no matter what happens, we don’t hold our breath or never stop breathing.

These two concepts of movement and breathing combined are what enable us to create this idea of dynamic calm. Dynamic calm is a calmness that is fluid and spontaneous. When we have a calmness that is fluid and spontaneous, we are able to allow things to pass through us as if we were transparent.

In Aikido and in Life, things will happen. Some good, some not so good. Transparency enables us to allow those untoward things to come to us and pass through us without holding on to them. Regardless if it is a strike to the head, a terse word from a co-worker, or a problem at work, being transparent enables us to allow those things to pass through us.

A quote attributed to O’Sensei gives us some direction: “Always keep your mind as bright and clear as the vast sky, the great ocean, and the highest peak, empty of all thoughts. Always keep your body filled with light and heat. Fill yourself with the power of wisdom and enlightenment.” One of the greatest gifts Aikido training can gives us is the ability to remain calm in the face of adversity. The metaphor of being transparent gives us something to imagine or strive for. Nothing good comes from allowing our inner selves to be disturbed, distracted, or unbalanced. That is why the best Aikidoists strive to be transparent.

Today’s goal: When something untoward happens, be transparent.

Breathe

The best Aikidoists never stops breathing.

The other day, I overheard Ken Watanabe Shihan telling his sword class, “When your shoulders sit, the technique has entered your body.” I thought to myself, “This is so true.”

What Watanabe Shihan could have been referring to is the concept of mindful breathing or that the student has started to breathe properly within the course of the technique. In Japanese, the word for “breathing” is kokyuu (呼吸).  Kokyuu can mean “breathing” but it is also used in reference to when someone gets the “knack” or acquires the skill of something. In other words, we have gotten used to the technique, environment or situation, lowered our shoulders, and have stopped holding our breath.

In the beginning of our training, a common practice is to hold our breath even if it is in an ever so slight way. Holding our breath is a primal response to stress as our bodies prepare for fight or flight. We hold our breath as a means of coping with stress as our minds focus, heart and breathing rates increase, muscles tighten, and our anxiety levels rise. This is something that many of us do and don’t even realize that we are doing it. That is why we get so tired (aka hypoxic) in the beginning of our training. Have you ever noticed that you are more tired in the first part of class but by the middle or end of class you aren’t as tired anymore? This is a function of our bodies relaxing and that our breathing has returned back to normal.

The phenomenon of mindful breathing or not holding our breath is different for everyone. Most likely holding or not holding our breath is based upon one or a combination of our stress level, initial fitness level, skill level, or level of awareness. Typically, it takes about  three to six months of consistent training to gain the awareness that we are holding our breath and to stop doing it.

When we can mindfully breath and have mastered the movement, we gain a sense of calmness. In swordsmanship, this is called seichu no do, do chu no sei (靜中動 動中靜) or “movement in calmness, calmness in movement.” An interesting quote from Shoshitsu Sen’s book Tea Life, Tea Mind can help us to understand this point: “A person making and drinking tea in contemplation approaches a sublime state of tranquility. But, strange to say, this tranquility will deepen even further when another person enters the microcosm of the tearoom and joins the host in contemplation over a bowl of tea. That we can find a lasting tranquility within our own selves in the company of others is the paradox.” Similarly in Aikido, that we can maintain our calm as a person tries to attack us is the paradox of training.

In the old days of Aikido, they used to say, “Keep the one-point!” The one point or ichinotanden (一の丹田) is approximately two inches below our navel. Although we breathe from our diaphragm which is above our navel, the place that we want to be breathing from in an Aikido or meditative sense is our tanden. The tanden is our physical center of gravity but in Japanese metaphysics it is the “source of breath” and the place of increased physical and mental stability, and emotional balance.

In Aikido and in Life, breathing brings us back to the here and now. Every day things will happen, good and bad. The true goal of Aikido training is having the ability to breathe and be calm no matter what is happening to us or around us and that is why the best Aikidoists never stops breathing.

Today’s goal: Whatever happens today, don’t stop breathing!

Watch this video to better understanding breathing

With Rather Than Against

From the Aikido Center of Los Angeles’ Aiki Dojo Message - With Rather Than Against

The best Aikidoist learns to fight with rather than against.

People often misunderstand Aikido as being solely the Art of Peace. On a certain level, it is but at the beginning of our training it really isn’t. Peace, as author John Stevens has us believe, is Aikido’s destination but that “place” is at the farther end of our training. According to Glenn Yoshida Sensei, training has two stages called tanren (鍛錬). Tan means “to forge” and ren means “to polish.” This idea lends itself to the understanding that training is a journey where we start out as one person but arrive much later as someone different.

In the beginning stages of our training, we learn to aragau (抗う) or “fight against” our opponents. Here, we fall into the typical definition of fighting as “a violent confrontation or struggle.” Actively contending, resisting, and struggling with our opponents is how we tan (鍛) ourselves and grow stronger not only physically, but technically and mentally too. At the beginning, we see the person standing in front of us as merely a person to attou (圧倒) or “to overpower” or “defeat” because they are our “opponent” or “enemy.” This is not right or wrong - it is just part of the journey. Thus, for a bulk of our time as a beginner, we work harder, not smarter.

Later in our training, we ren (錬) and refine what we have learned in the previous stages of our training. Here, because it is Aikido, we learn to awaseru (合わせる). Awaseru can mean “to fight” or “to put blade to blade” but in an Aikido sense it means “to join together.” This is where we understand the meaning of the ai (合) in Aikido. The more we resist or fight against, the worse our technique is or the harder it is on us. Thus, we are forced, either by age, life, or pain, to move with our partner rather than clash against them. This is also where the person standing in front of us changes from being our opponent to being our partner and we learn to awaseru and fight “with” them rather than “against” them. Until this time, we were actively trying to resist them or dominate them. Now, we learn how to move with them and put them into a position where we use their own actions and koudouryoku (行動力) or “leverage” to defeat them. In a sense, we fight with them and work smarter, not harder.

In Aikido and in Life, there will always be something that rises up to throw us off balance. Some days we just wake up and our foot hurts for no reason. Other times it is that larger than life person cranking our wrist. Regardless, we have to overcome it. Normal people think that balance is a state that they achieve. Balance is a dynamic practice where day in and day out things come up, destabilize us, and we re-stabilize ourselves. Having the mentality to fight against these destabilizing factors causes us to unduly suffer. Using our Aikido training, we learn to fight with the untoward things that come up seemingly out of nowhere. Fighting with them rather than against them  enables us to take things in stride and face them with grace.

Everything, in Life and in Aikido, is either a test of our level or a lesson we need to learn. Carl Jung said, "Whatever you resist, persists.” Understanding this, the best Aikidoists always fights with rather than against.

Today’s goal: Whatever happens today, don’t give up or give in - go with it!

Evolve

From the Aikido Center of Los Angeles’ Aiki Dojo Message - Evolve

The best Aikidoists allow themselves to evolve.

Aikidoists should have an evolutionary mindset. When I say evolution, I am not talking about changing Aikido or incorporating techniques from other arts. Evolution, in this sense, is about evolving the Self. O’Sensei advocated that “the true victory is self-victory” or masakatsu agatsu (正勝吾勝). The more one trains in Aikido, the more they come to realize the truth in O’Sensei’s words.

One of the main things we battle against in our training is iikininaru (いい氣になる) or “self-complacency.” Self-complacency is “a state of self-satisfaction, often accompanied by a lack of awareness of potential dangers or deficiencies.” For a myriad of reasons along the Way, we become fatigued and then our egos quietly whisper a reason to become satisfied with good enough and then we become complacent. In a sense, we become “stuck” or hamarikomu (填まり込む). Interestingly, hamarikomu also means “to be addicted to” and so we become addicted to the accolades, abilities, praise, or level that we have attained and thus don’t want to leave it in the name of evolution and in pursuit of the unknown. Therefore, the greatest enemy is not the person who stands before us but TV, cellphones, the internet, or a soft comfortable chair. They make it so easy to get stuck and they are so addicting, aren’t they?

In order to battle self-complacency, we have to actively seek out opportunities to evolve. One way to do that is with Aikido training. In training, no stays the same. Every obstacle surmounted regardless of outcome is a victory. Every time you come to class or step up to a challenge, it is a victory and when we do something that stretches our comfort zone, it is a victory. Notice that none of these things have anything to do with dominating others or being effective - those things are external. William Butler Yeats said, “It takes more courage to examine the dark corners of your own soul than it does for a soldier to fight on the battlefield.” Masakatsu agatsu.

If we take a step back and really think about it, Aikido training in the beginning is really about irimi or “moving forward.” Irimi is not just something we do - it is metaphorical. The discomfort of moving into an attack gives us the will to evolve and the more we do it, the better we get at it. It is only after we have mastered irimi that we move into higher consciousness movements like tenkan or tenshin.

Furuya Sensei once wrote, “In one sense, we must practice with kindness. In another, as a martial art. The Art of  Aikido is very strict and demanding. As we go higher in rank and experience, Aikido is more unforgiving and becomes more difficult - we must understand this as a part of our training and Path. It is with these challenges and the overcoming of many difficulties that we can polish ourselves and discover our greater Selves. Like a Samurai sword, its true value and beauty only comes forth with the polish. A sword is not born with a keen edge, only its potential. Only under the skill of the master polisher can the sword realize its sharpness.”

In order to take on an evolutionary mindset, we must allow. Allow ourselves to let go of our past selves so that we can evolve and polish ourselves into the greatest version of ourselves thus far.

Today’s goal: Step out of your comfort zone. As someone once said, “If you always do what you've always done, you'll always get what you've always got.”

Courage to Fail

From the Aikido Center of Los Angeles’ Aiki Dojo Message - Courage to Fail

Furuya Sensei once wrote: “It is not that you lack self-confidence or ability, it is just that you are afraid of failure. You shouldn't worry about this. There is no such thing as failure until you create it in your mind and bring it into your life. It really does not exist, it is only an idea, value judgement, or sensation which simply comes and goes in your head. It does not exist in reality or in Nature. Why many worry about failure so much is that they are very much attached to failure. Why? Because failure is an easy way to absolve one's self of responsibility and commitment which we hate or find burdensome. Don't waste your time and energy on such tiresome games, move on! The only problem with failure is that, if you buy into it, it takes a little bit away from you, doesn't it? That little bit of yourself can never be taken back. So simply put the idea of failure or loss out of your mind!”

One of the interesting things that happens along the way in our Aikido training is that we develop the courage to fail.

In order to grow, we have to try new things. Attempting something new or different requires taking risks and with that risk comes the possibility of failing. Lots of times, as we become comfortable, the possibility of failure causes us not to try. However, Aikidoists know that true growth can only occur if we leave our comfort zones and try something new. No one can be 100% certain of the outcome and so, because no one knows, Aikidoists just allow it to be and focus on their own efforts.

Ultimately, regardless of the outcome, we either learn, or lose. The only way to truly lose is if we don’t grow or learn anything from the outcome, win or lose. Aikido training requires hansei (反省) or “self-reflection.” As we self-reflect, we look for what went right or what needs work. If we fail to negotiate someone’s attack and blame them, we are not learning, and the situation has a sort of negative connotation. If we get struck and reflect back on what we could have done better, then things have a more positive tone. If like begets like, then positivity will generate positivity. Thus, all we have to do is change the way we see the possibilities and failure will lose its grip on us.

If we can change how we interpret failure and give it a positive spin, then trying sans the outcome becomes about growth. If we focus on the growth, then we can learn to not only have the courage to fail but also to be furuu (奮う) “to be invigorated” by the opportunity of trying.

Thinking about outcomes in this way removes the fear of failure and on a certain level creates the courage to fail. One of the main differences between normal people and Aikido people is that the practice of Aikido teaches us to actively search for ways to improve. We never lose because we are always learning. Training teaches us to embrace the process, not the outcome. Thus, a good Aikidoist has the courage to fail.

Today’s goal: Try something new. You never know what your new normal might be.