Starting on the Path

August 28, 2007

I must admit: when the summer months hit, I expected a general decline in the dojo. After all, those of us in the Pacific Northwest value greatly the three or four days of bright sunshine we get! Plus, summer months are typically filled with atypical schedules: vacations, day trips, and so on. So, as June moved into July, I thought things might get a little quiet.Nothing could be further from the truth. In the past few months, we’ve had many new people join our community. Many of these folks have asked what to expect when they step onto the mat. Here’s what I’ve been sharing with them:

  1. Relax. There is nothing that occurs on the mat that you cannot do. It simply takes practice.
  2. Patience. There is a lot that you will see on the mat that you might want to do, but cannot yet do. Be patient with yourself. You will get there in time, and you are in competition with no one other than yourself.
  3. Commit. Try to attend two or three classes a week. Don’t over-commit yourself! It is more important to train consistently than it is to train as often as possible. When you are on the mat, commit to being on the mat.
  4. Ask. There are no secrets here. To be sure, some questions are best answered through experience, but you should never be afraid to ask a question about why we do things in the dojo the way we do. You can ask the instructor, you can ask a senior student–but please ask!
  5. Enjoy. Training, like anything else, has its ups and downs. It can be very challenging, even frustrating at times. Therefore, it is important that you remember to enjoy yourself. Enjoy your training, enjoy that your fellow training partners are there to help and challenge you–they are not there to hinder you.

I have a deep respect for anyone–regardless of age–who steps onto the mat. It is a challenge to put yourself in a position where you are learning a new culture and a new system of movement. These four points are perhaps simplistic and likely incomplete. But they’re a good start to ensuring that the path you walk on is one you can follow for years to come.

Update:  At Dynamic Spirit Kokikai Aikido, a Kokikai dojo located in downtown Seattle, Chief Instructor David Zeger offers a few words regarding Kokikai practice for beginners.

I agree with Zeger-san on all points. Training in aikido is a deeply personal experience. Stories of how aikido has helped this person achieve this goal, and that person achieve that other goal are just that: stories. Like anything else, what you get out of your aikido practice depends in large part on what you put into it. Be unafraid to try, and be unafraid to question! You’ll find your path to be quite rewarding.


In the Dojo

August 10, 2007

The other day, on the recommendation of a friend, I picked up a copy of Dave Lowry’s In The Dojo. It’s a pretty easy read, in which Lowry describes many of the reasons and history behind why things are done a certain way in the dojo. Why is a traditional dojo have the floorplan that it does? Why do we wear gis, anyway? What’s up with the hakama (for those of us who wear one)? These are the types of questions that Lowry attempts to answer. It’s an enjoyable read thus far, primarily because it’s interesting to see how, in the West, we can get caught up in the mythology of why something exists, as opposed to understanding the real (and, often, far more practical) reason.

It’s amazing how much mythology surround martial arts training, and how much of that mythology we, as “outsiders” studying the art in question, create ourselves. One instance that comes to mind is the notion of the belt. I remember hearing from someone, when I first started training, that you never wash your belt. Ever. “It represents your knowledge,” this person said. “And if you wash it, that knowledge goes away.” I accepted this, at first, without thinking. But then realized a couple of things:

  1. The belt system is a pretty new introduction to the world of martial arts training.
  2. Some people sweat. A lot. Washing a belt becomes quite important at that point.

So I started doing a little research. And, thus far, I haven’t been able to find a real reason for why you shouldn’t wash your belt. It seems to be a myth that, like many other myths like it, probably started innocently enough, and snowballed from there.

Another facet I find interesting is why we wear gis to begin with. I’ve lost count of the stories surrounding this. (One xample: They’re the clothes that you wear under your more formal attire. Does this mean that, in essence, you’re running around in underwear?) Lowry writes that the gis we use in Japanese martial arts really were designed for two reasons: (1) they were durable, and (2) they were cheap to make. Very simple, practical reasons; no hidden meaning needed or required.

I find the topics in this book also dovetail quite well with an essay written over at www.24fightingchickens.com called The Box. In that article, the author writes about how, in the West, we seem to get too caught up in the trappings that surround the martial art than in the martial art itself. The analogy used is that of a child who, opening a present, becomes fascinated with the box it came in as opposed to the gift itself. So, while In the Dojo can certainly provide insight into why things are done certain ways in traditional Japanese dojos, it is equally important to remember that most of us do not train in such environments. Therefore, while it’s excellent to know how things are done, it is vitally important to understand why things are done as well.