Spring Seminar, 2007

This year, the Aikido Kokikai Seattle dojo and Aikido Kokikai South Everett hosted our first Spring Seminar. The guest instructor was Sensei David Nachman, 6th dan and co-chief instructor at Aikido Kokikai Southwest.

While I have attended many seminars in the past, this was the first one at which I was primarily responsible for the planning and hosting. We (Sensei Zeger and I) decided to host the event at the AKSE dojo, partially because we have a little more mat space and partially because there’s more parking in our neck of the woods. When we started planning the event some months ago, we had a simple hope: to get between 15 and 20 students on the mat. We figured that, if we could just get that many people to participate, we’d have a good seminar that just might break even. It seemed like a reasonable goal. Instead, the event was attended by over 35 kokikai aikido students. We very nearly ran out of mat space, we had so many people practicing. What made the event even better was that there were many folks that I hadn’t seen on the mat in quite some time. The result was an event that left everyone fired up on their training.

Seminars and camps are always interesting events to me, in that it is sometimes hard for me to articulate what it is that makes them so invigorating. In part, of course, it is the insight into techniques and martial strategy. I think what makes them so interesting is that they are unusual. Therefore, we tend to focus more on our training and on what is being taught. Also, in this case, we had an extremely knowledgeable aikido practitioner and teacher. Over the past week or so, I’ve been approached by many students who attended the seminar. Every time, they mentioned how Sensei Nachman said or demonstrated something that gave them some really valuable insight into their own aikido training. Another reason why these seminars are so enjoyable might be because we have a huge group of people with whom we normally don’t practice. I was both surprised and pleased to see so many people on the mat–far more than I had anticipated–and getting the opportunity to practice with people I don’t see on a regular basis was a real treat.

Off the mat, the seminar offered much to me in terms of learning how to be a good host. I was and am fortunate that Sensei Nachman was a kind and gracious guest. He gave me many insights on how to best take care of guests, both on and off the mat. What really touched me was how he befriended my daughter. The two of them really formed a special friendship. In fact, one evening I watched her climb into his arms, where she remained, content, for the duration of the evening. I was worried at first–I didn’t want her to bother him–but eventually I relaxed and realized that he was able to tell her himself when he needed to put her down or talk with someone other than her for a while. Watching that interaction was truly touching.

I hope that this past seminar is the first of many we get to have with Sensei Nachman, and I hope we have the opportunity to invite others to visit us as well. In fact, shortly we have the opportunity to put our hosting skills to the work once again, as Sensei Maruyama will be staying with us for a couple for a couple of nights on his way back to Japan! More on that some other time…

Malik Murray

I would like to tell you about a friend of mine.

My friend’s name is Malik, and he is an aikidoka. Like myself, he studies Kokikai Aikido. I call him my friend, though I have only met him two or three times at national seminars. I call him my friend, because his open demeanor and warmth would not let us be anything else.

Once you met Malik, you would easily recognize him again. A devout Muslim, he wears traditional African robes and always keeps his hair in a wool hat. I always meant to ask why that type of headdress in particular; regardless, I never see him without it. It was not the robes, however, that makes him stand out. It is the fact that he is always blinking. He seems to have a knack for various different electronic gear. The juxtaposition of his traditional garb and his high tech gadgetry always sticks with me, and probably always will.

Once you met Malik, you would be glad to see him again. He is a kind person, both on the mat and off. He is easy to talk to and easy to listen to. When I first met him, I was surprised at how easy it was to become his friend, to chat with him. Although I do not see him outside of camps, when I do see him it is as if I was seeing an old friend. We share a common bond of dedication to Kokikai training, of bettering ourselves on and off the mat.

I do not know Malik’s family, but I once got a picture of his love for them. At Winter Camp, his son was playing ball alongside the mats. As his son enjoyed himself, I could see Malik’s smile as he watched. It’s the same smile I get when my little girl is playing games. It is easy to see his boundless love for his family.

Sadly, Malik was killed in a shooting incident not far from his home. Although he is no longer with us, I could not bring myself to write this post and describe him in the past tense. Malik and I never knew each other personally all that well–but we were friends nonetheless. I regret that our friendship will not have the opportunity to grow as the years pass. But I am very glad that, however briefly, I had the chance to know him.

I wanted to write this simply to remember him, and to remind myself that it is the bonds we make between our teachers and training partners that make the pursuit of aikido, of any martial art, worthwhile.

You will not be forgotten, Malik.

Interview Questions

On a whim, I decided to take up the challenge proffered at www.blackbeltmama.com: to be asked five interview-like questions. In return, I’m to post my answers here (which I’m about to do), and offer to interview anyone else who posts a comment here. So, if you’re interested, leave a comment saying “Interview me” and I’ll send you five questions as soon as I can.

Side note: some of these are aikido-related, some less so. Just a fair warning.

1. Do you think it is easier for people to learn aikido when they are new to the martial arts entirely, or is it easier if they have background in another martial art?

I’ve thought about this issue for a long time. There are many who say aikido is best suited to those who have already trained in another martial art. Their reasons are usually based around the fact that, in aikido, we don’t do drills on striking, and we don’t spar like those in Karate or Tae Kwon Do on a regular basis. In addition, aikido requires that you create a strong connection with your attacker, so that you can take them off balance. That connection is very hard to acheive if you’re not used to having someone (or multiple someones) standing in front of you, ready to knock your block off. Those who have studied striking arts have experienced this, and are often ready for it. Those who have no previous martial arts experience can have a harder time.

On the flip side, however: aikido, in my opinion, represents a shift in strategy for self-defense. The idea in aikido is not to meet your opponent on their terms, but rather to identify and exploit the errors in their own movements. We are none of us invincible. We stand on two legs; therefore, no matter what attack we attempt to try there is some plane or angle in which our structure is at its weakest. Those with little to no martial arts experience sometimes learn to identify and use these weakness faster than those more accustomed to meeting an attack head-on.

So which side do I come down on? To be honest, I’m going to cop out and say “neither.” What matters most is that you step onto the mat with openness and dedication. True, those with previous martial arts experience might know how to hit harder, but that often just means they learn how to fall faster.

2. What’s the best vacation you ever took?

Ah. I wish I could say it was my honeymoon with my wife. That certainly was a great vacation. But I must say that a vacation my wife and I took before we were married tops it. During that trip, my dad and stepmom rented a beachhouse in South Carolina. We spent a week there with family; going to the beach, relaxing, and getting to know our extended family. I remember one night we sat out on the back porch while a thunderstorm rolled in. The entire family watched as lightening rolled from one cloud to the next. It was amazing. I was already in love with my (soon-to-be) wife, but that trip really made me understand that what I was feeling was nothing temporary–it was something deep and lasting.

3. What’s your biggest pet peeve?

Back to aikido. My biggest pet peeve by far is people who, because we don’t focus on hitting in aikido, think that aikido just plain doesn’t work. These people seem to come in two varieties. One group consists of people who have never studied or tried aikido. It just looks “weird” so they think it doesn’t work, or, worst yet, they have some “buddy” who took “a little aikido” and, when they sparred after a couple of beers, couldn’t hack it. The other group consists of people who DO study aikido, but still think in their minds that “winning” means “overpowering by force.” As I mentioned before: aikido is a different strategy. Winning is critical; but winning is not the same as beating someone–however much we use the terms interchangeably today.

I suppose that to me, people who think aikido doesn’t work because we don’t focus on strikes (though we do study how to apply them!) is the same as someone saying that Tae Kwon Do doesn’t work because kicking puts you on one foot. Aikido not just a series of techniques, it is a strategy. Knowing how to apply a technique is important, but knowing the when and why of that technique is also important. And those who study aikido and yet still want to fight? Again, it’s sort of like people who want to study Tae Kwon Do but see kicking as the only way they should defend themselves.

(And my apologies if the Tae Kwon Do analogy is a poor one.)

So, as you might be able to tell–this is a big pet peeve for me.

4. Who are the three most influential people in your life?

Ah… This is an easy one. But I will not put these people in any order:

• My wife
• My daughter
• Sensei Maruyama

5. If you could change one thing about your life, what would it be?

Sigh. I would say that I would like to be a lot less sensitive about what other people are doing. I’d like to relax and be more comfortable in my skin, which is the same thing. I spend too much time worrying about what’s going on in other people’s heads, although I’ve gotten better over time. After all, if I have time to worry, I have time to be focused!

Thanks to Black Belt Mama for giving me these questions. They were fun to answer! Again, if you’re interested, here are the rules:

Here are the rules if you’d like to play:

1. Leave me a comment saying “Interview Me.”

2. I will respond by emailing you five questions. I get to pick the questions.

3. You will update your blog with the questions and answers.

4. You will include this explanation and offer to interview readers in the same post.

5. When others comment asking to be interviewed, you will ask them five questions.

Mondays and Wednesdays

There’s something about Mondays and Wednesdays at the dojo that I really enjoy.

When the dojo was at the YMCA, our classes were held on Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturdays. Now that we’re at the new space, I felt it was silly to have a dedicated training space and NOT have classes as often as possible. So, we expanded our schedule to the point where we now have classes five days a week. (I would probably offer more, but my family would very much like me home a couple of days a week!)  Still, the majority of students at the dojo are used to a Tuesday/Thursday (with occasional Saturday) schedule. As a result, Tuesdays and Thursdays are very busy for me–many students are on the mat, many folks have questions that I try to answer off the mat, and so on.  I love these crowded classes. It makes me very glad to see that others are enjoying Kokikai Aikido as much as I do. But, because classes are so large, I don’t have the opportunity to chat with students as much as I would like. People get on the mat, train, and go home with me barely having more than a minute to say hello. There’s nothing wrong with that–I’m sure it’s a part of what happens when a dojo grows as much as ours has. But I enjoy talking with students a great deal. I find out a lot about why they train, what they want to accomplish, how they’re feeling. I like to get a sense of what they are hoping to get out of aikido practice.  And, by talking with them, I get an opportunity figure out what teaching approach might work best for them.

And so this is why, despite how much I enjoy seeing a crowded mat, I enjoy Mondays and Wednesdays. They are much smaller and give me a chance to learn more about the students who are there. Yesterday, for example, there were three of us on the mat. Myself, a 3rd kyu, and and 6th kyu. With such a small group, I find an overly-formal class structure seems out-of-place, so warm-ups are a bit more relaxed than usual. We chatted a bit while we warmed up, and then I started to help them with tsuki kokyunage. I find I have to be careful when I am working with only a couple of people–it’s easy to be overly critical, since they have my full attention during class. I try then to only give a few items to work on–after all, nothing substitutes consistent effort when it comes to learning technique. An idea or two now and then seems to be just about right. (Often, I stand on the other side of the mat just to help ensure I don’t nitpick anyone to death.)  The whole time, class was quiet, calm, dedicated, and relaxed. It felt good to be a part of it.

After class, we had a chance to talk more about the dojo in general. We’ve been growing so rapidly, that it’s been a challenge for everyone in learning how to adapt. We got to discuss the upcoming Spring Seminar, and a few other plans for the summer. In all, it was a very relaxing evening, and typical of most Monday and Wednesday classes.

Sometimes, I suppose, it’s nice to have a quiet dojo. But I’m still looking foward to our usual big class this evening!

Get out of the way!

Sometimes, when you have been studying a martial for a while, it’s very easy to get lost in the abstract, the theoretical. After all, you’ve probably been through enough training sessions, enough tests, that you have a decent sense of your technique. Improving your physical skills becomes a matter of refinement, as opposed to a matter of acquisition. It’s natural, perhaps even correct and appropriate, to start focusing more on strategy and philosophy instead of just physical technique. At least, these topics start to appear more interesting.

But sometimes, we neglect to remember that we too were beginners. And one of the most important aspects of any martial art is that, when pressed, you have the skills to defend yourself physically; that you can back up your philosophy with ability. New students who step on the mat need to acquire this ability, and a common criticism of aikido is that we don’t focus enough on the “practical” aspect of the art. By “practical,” I dont necessarily mean combative–I mean what gives a new student the most self-defense bang for their buck when they are at a stage where physical technique is still unreliable. I’ve been trying to figure out what I’d consider to be the most fundamental, self-defense-related aspect of aikido training for beginners. I’m still debating it, but so far I’ve settled on one concept:

Get out of the way!

Nearly all of aikido requires us to get out of the way of an attack; to “step off the line,” to use a common phrase. Sometimes, we step off the line using an irimi movement, sometimes it’s tenkan. But always it is an immediate and simple movement. In class, we often focus on an entire technique, so it is very easy to get lost in focusing on how to throw your opponent, or where your hands are supposed to go. These are important skills, to be sure, but what is often missed (or not emphasized enough?) is the idea that, once you step off the line, you have given yourself a temporary reprieve from the attack. Can’t remember what else to do after you get off the line? Take a look at where you are! A quick irimi or tenkan step puts you right into an opponent’s blind spot–they cannot hit you because it’s too difficult to reach you. Think of all the things that you can do from that position in the split second before they turn. You can even simply run–after all, the whole point of self-defense is to remove yourself from a dangerous position and put yourself in a safer one.

In other words, getting out of the way gives you options. Options which, after further study, allow you to employ any number of techniques to prevent your opponent from being a threat to you.

Why Weapons

While reading though the forums on aikiweb, I came across this link. There, the author writes about why we train with weapons in Aikido (although, in my opinion, the answer applies to many martial arts).

I highly recommend checking it out. I think it’s a well-written response to a common and excellent question. What I like most about the answer (sorry, I’m about to spoil it a bit for you) is the re-phrasing of the question: “Why do we practice with weapons?” to “What do learn from practicing with weapons that we do not learn anywhere else?”

What I enjoy about this re-phrasing is that, quite often, I find myself thinking: “Why?” Why do we move one way, and not another? Why do wear hakama, instead of sweats? Why do we bow? But the question “Why?”, as the essay I am linking to illustrates, may not be enough. The truth is, almost any action, if done with deep conviction and intention, can provide a level of self-understanding. When I expand the question to “What does this particular action teach us, that another action cannot?” I have to think harder about the answer.

Winning

Martial artists want to win.

At least, most of us do. We step onto the mat, after all, with the goal of learning how to defend ourselves. You can’t do that unless you want to win, to beat your opponent.

Right?

I’m not so sure.

Lately, I’ve had numerous conversations with people about aikido training, and about how they want to win–to show other martial artists that aikido can hold its own. I listen during these conversations, and I can certainly empathize with folks who feel this way, but I am always left thinking that this is not the best thought process to follow if you really want to understand a martial art.

To be truly proficient at a martial art requires that you become accustomed to fear. For some, this means being completely unafraid of any situation. For others, like myself, it means coming to terms with fear, recognizing that it exists and refusing to allow it to dictate your actions. It is hard to listen to people discussing how they want to “win” without hearing at least a hint of fear in their voice. Perhaps they are afraid they haven’t been training diligently enough. Perhaps they fear that there is so much that they don’t know, they’ll never be able to apply what they do know in a real situation. Perhaps they’re just afraid they’re not being taken seriously enough by others. Whatever the reason, people that focus on winning physical conflicts seem to demonstrate that they have not yet become accustomed to fear. There’s some proof of this. Think about the teachers you respect. Do they show a pre-occupation with winning? Odds are, they do not. As one of my teachers once said: “The best technique comes when you are not afraid to lose.”

Pre-occupation with winning has another downfall: it focuses on the technique and wondering what your opponent is going to do. In Aikido, this can quickly lead to ineffective movements; I am sure that this is true in other martial arts as well. I have never done well in free-style sparring when I try to win. Too often, I try to anticipate what my opponent is going to do, or try to determine which technique I will try next. On the other hand, when I relax and simply let the situation take care of itself, I more often than not end up selecting the right movement (or close to it). When I face an opponent, I attempt to think “how can I resolve this conflict?” instead of “how do I beat this person?” The former has opened me to finding solutions that do not involve any physical contact whatsoever. In the dojo, where physical contact is pre-determined, this mindset of conflict resolution has me focused on taking care of myself and my uke, with highly successful results.

In the end, perhaps it comes down to how you define “winning.” In my opinion, I do not win when I beat my opponent. I “win” when I remove my uke’s reason and ability to fight without compromising my own safety and well-being. This might mean that I need to employ physical technique; consequently, I must continue to practice to refine my movements. It might, however, mean that I talk the other person down, or find some other non-physical means of settling the issue. I cannot accomplish this goal, however, if I am solely focused on beating my opponent.

I’ll end this entry with a question: If you spent your life training in a martial art, and found that at the end of your days you lived without compromising your principles and without physically confronting someone, would you say that you have found the ultimate success in your martial arts career?