Imperfection

角を矯めて牛を殺す
Tsuno wo tameteushi wo korosu
Perfect is the enemy of good.

The best Aikidoist embraces imperfection.

One of the things we strive to embrace in our Aikido training is the concept of wabi-sabi (侘び寂び). Wabi-sabi is one of those Japanese words which can’t be easily translated into English. Wabi-sabi is to be moved emotionally by a profound sense of beauty in something because it’s imperfect and impermanent.

Here is a story which illustrates this idea of wabi-sabi. Long ago, Sen Rikyu, the originator of the tea ceremony, was invited to his tea growers house for tea ceremony. During the ceremony, the grower nervously knocked over the tea whisk and all of Rikyu’s assistants snickered. At the end of the service, Rikyu said that it was the best cup of tea he had ever been served. On the way home, one of the assistants inquired why he had said that. Rikyu answered, “He did not invite me to show off his perfection as a tea master. He invited me so that we could enjoy a cup of tea together. I was touched by the sincerity of his effort and thus it was a wonderful cup of tea.” Rikyu was moved by the imperfection which showed the tea grower’s honest sincerity.    

In Aikido training, we often see students becoming frustrated as they try to perfect their technique. This frustration is necessary because it shows that the student cares - it shows their honest sincerity. Teachers should see the student’s sincere effort and reward it with empathy rather than scorn. Sometimes it is best to simply realize that right now is good enough. Other students should also see their own strife in their fellow students and thus realize that they are more than mere throwing dummies there for them to release their frustrations upon.

As a martial artist, every Aikidoist must realize that they are an imperfect person living in an imperfect world which is filled with other imperfect people. If we cannot, then we risk judging them and judgements are often wrong. As they say, “People who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.” This is not the same as giving people a pass for poor behavior. Like wabi-sabi it is having the ability to see another person’s humanity first and judge them accordingly afterwards.

Furuya Sensei once wrote, “Although we strive for perfection in our training, our humanity lies in our imperfection. We are not great because of our strengths, we are human because of our weaknesses. We should never forget this in our Aikido training.” Thus, humanity is our greatest strength and our two greatest skills are in our ability to be kind in our actions and generous in our judgements. We are kind and generous because we realize that we too are imperfect and thus need kindness, compassion, and forgiveness when we make a mistake. In order to get it, we have to give it. Training teaches us to realize that no matter how hard we try to be perfect, we too are imperfect and that is beautiful. Aikido training teaches us to strive for quality of effort over emphasizing the quality of product and that’s why the best Aikidoist embraces imperfection in themselves, in others, and in the world.

Today’s goal: Instead of judging people based upon their imperfections, realize that imperfection is what makes them perfect.

Watch this video to better understand wabi-sabi

No Mind

“When this no-Mind has been well developed, the mind does not stop with one thing nor does it lack
any one thing. It appears appropriately when facing a time of need.” - Takuan Soho

The best Aikidoists move with no-mind. In Japanese, when a person worries too much, they are referred to as being atamagaomoi (頭が重い) or “heavy-headed.” When we spend too much time or energy anticipating or worrying about what may or may not be, our heads become heavy, and we lose focus on the present. When we lose focus on the present, our minds linger on something and a suki (隙) or “opening” is created. These weak points are what our opponents exploit to defeat us.

In Aikido, we are supposed to be moving with mushin (無心) or “no mind.” No-mind isn’t a state of apathy or being mentally checked out. No-mind is this fluid state of hyper-focus in which we have learned to drown out all the mental din and exterior distractions and move unencumbered. In sports, this is called being “in the zone.”

When we are attacked, we have to be able to recognize the attack, move in or with the attack, feel our partner’s mental and physical state, re-orient their power, unbalance them, bring their movement into our movement, and then turn their power into a joint lock or throw. And we are not even mentioning O’Sensei’s philosophy of non-violence and caring for our opponents. There is so much going on that our conscious minds cannot keep up and thus we must shift from a conscious mind to a subconscious state to keep up.

In class, we can literally see people’s minds churning as they go from step to step. There is this literal physical pause as their minds check the box for each step. Conscious thought slows our movements down and makes our movements appear choppy. This is just part of the process. However, what is not acceptable is that this conscious thought also opens the door for an internal dialogue of judgement, worry, fear or any other story that we are telling ourselves. This not only slows our movements down but causes undue suffering. The only way that we can learn to turn off our conscious minds is through repetition. With every repetition, our minds go deeper and deeper into a subconscious state. Therefore, the more we train, the more we learn to shut off our minds and flow with the movement. However, we don’t really shut off our minds, we actually just learn to let go of our thoughts.

In the Book of Five Rings, Miyamoto Musashi wrote, “Do nothing that is of no use.” What this means is that if something is not productive, we should not be wasting time, money, or energy engaging in it. Author Brian Tracy refers to this as Zero-based thinking. In Zero-based thinking, we take an inventory of the things, people, and behaviors and evaluate them to see if they are productive. If they are not, we stop engaging in them.

Furuya Sensei once wrote, “We are oppressed by our own thoughts and actions. We can become an obstacle to ourselves with incorrect thinking and incorrect actions. Through our training we learn to correct and polish ourselves and come to understand such things about ourselves.” Aikido is a method of learning how to unburden our minds so that we can move unencumbered with no-mind.

Today’s goal: Realize, as Furuya Sensei once wrote, “The most terrible aspect is really just the anticipation or the fear of it.”

Watch this video of Brian Tracy explaining Zero-based thinking.

Eclipse Yourself

"Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.” - Psychiatrist Carl Jung

Many cultures believe eclipses are omens of doom. To Japanese marital artists, an eclipse can be thought of as the harbinger of the martial arts.

The Chinese god Zhang Xian is often depicted aiming an arrow at a dog named tiangou who is trying to eat the moon. As a good spirit, tiangou brings peace, tranquility, and gives protection. As an evil spirit it eats the moon causing an eclipse. The word tiangou translates into Japanese as tengu (天狗). In Japanese folklore, the tengu are supernatural beings who are thought to be knowledgeable in the martial arts and taught people those arts.

There is a famous Noh play called Kurama-tengu which tells the story of Minamoto no Yoshitsune. The play begins with monks and children from the Kurama temple enjoying a cherry blossom viewing. The group leaves in protest when a shabby Yamabushi or “mountain ascetic priest” arrives and tries to join them. Only one child stays and confides in the Yamabushi that he is Minamoto no Yoshitsune or the orphaned son of the slain head of the Genji clan. In turn, the Yamabushi reveals himself to be the head tengu and proceeds to instruct Yoshitsune in the martial arts. The play closes with Yoshitsune avenging his father's death using the skills he learned from the tengu. Interestingly, Yoshitsune is the distant nephew of Minamoto no Yoshimitsu who is more commonly known as Shinra Saburo and is the creator of Daito-ryu Aikijujitsu or the parent form of Aikido.

Ancient civilizations believed that eclipses were bad omens but actually what they feared was the unexpected. This is not without merit as all warfare is based upon deception and the element of surprise is its ultimate fighting technique. Therefore, it is only natural that we should be weary of the unknown and the darkness that eclipses bring.

Aikido is supposed to be a higher form of the martial arts. Our goal is not to destroy - it is to know. In route to knowing who we are, Aikido training teaches us to believe in ourselves. With each opponent and adversity that we overcome; we grow stronger. We grow stronger not in the skill of defeating others but in the skill in believing in ourselves. Psychiatrist Carl Jung said, "Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.” If Jung’s assertion is true, then we only become truly undefeatable when we know who we are and believe in ourselves.

Don’t be afraid of the eclipse. Its darkness can bring us the true power of the martial arts - knowing ourselves. Aikidoists do not fear what they do not know. Instead, they believe in who they are and the person that they have trained to become. Greek philosopher Archilochus said, “We don't rise to the level of our expectations; we fall to the level of our training.” The best Aikidoists don’t cower in the darkness, they excel in it.

Today’s goal: Don’t be afraid of the eclipse and its darkness, just be careful looking directly at it.

Watch this video of Gabor Mate talking about the darkness

Honest Effort

“‘In the midst of a single breath, where perversity cannot be held , is the Way.’ If so, then the Way is one. But there is no one who can understand this clarity at first. Purity is something that cannot be attained except by piling effort upon effort.” - Lord Sanenori, Hagakure

The best Aikidoists train themselves to always give an honest effort.

In the old days, the Japanese used to say, “bushi no ichigon kintetsu no gotoshi” (武士の一言金鉄の如し) or that “A warrior’s word is as reliable as gold.” Their word is reliable because a warrior’s personal standard won’t allow them to break it. This integrity was not just in their words but also in their actions. In order to have integrity in action, we have to be able to give any undertaking an honest effort. An honest effort is to give one’s all regardless of what we are doing or if we want to do it or not. To give an honest effort is to make a conscious choice to isshoukenmei (一所懸命) or “do something with all of one's might.”

One of things that Aikido teachers are looking for is the moment when a student’s isshoukenmei arrives. Isshoukenmei is not just to train hard. It is this level of dedication to one’s training - it is the honest effort. We cannot be told to give an honest effort, nor can we be forced to. An honest effort is completely internal. Therefore, we either will, or we won’t. Some students are lucky enough to be born with this mindset. For the rest of us, it arrives around 3rd kyu and the technique where we see it arrive at is tai no henko (体の変更). To the beginner, tai no henko is just this boring abstract movement that doesn’t seem to have any relevance to Aikido, nor does it seem to have any fighting usefulness. However, Furuya Sensei said, “Every technique holds a secret to Aikido.” Therefore, to the ardent, tai no henko is the gateway to Aikido. Once we learn to give tai no henko an honest effort, that is where we start to see our Aikido really begin to flourish. Once we are able to put in an honest effort into something as mundane and abstract as tai no henko, then all of our Aikido techniques will begin to flourish as well.

The Bishop of Geneva, Saint Francis de Sales said, “Bloom where you are planted.” This means that wherever we are and in everything that we do, we must grow and flourish despite the circumstances. The word bloom also indicates that we must not just survive but thrive as well. In Aikido and in life, in order to thrive, we must learn to intrinsically put in an honest effort. What training teaches us is that a person who is capable of putting in an honest effort can achieve anything. The best Aikidoists train themselves to put their all into everything that they do, not just on the mats but in every aspect of their lives as well.

Today’s goal: If as a warrior you said you would do it, then you have to give it an honest effort.

Nerves of Steel

“No Fear, No Hesitation, No Surprise, No Doubt.” - Miyamoto Musashi, Vagabond

The best Aikidoists have nerves of steel. To have nerves of steel means “to have an impressive ability to remain calm in dangerous or difficult situations.” In Japanese, one way to say, “nerves of steel” is tanki (胆氣) which literally translates as “courageous energy.”

To have energy which is courageous is not something that every person naturally has. Some people have it, some people don’t, but it is something that can be learned. Having nerves of steel is about having emotional equanimity. In Japanese, there is no direct translation for equanimity. Equanimity is the ability to have “mental calmness, composure, and evenness of temper, especially in a difficult situation.” With this understanding, we can use the old word shinshokujijaku (神色自若) which meant “perfect composure.”

Japanese martial artists aren’t supposed to express emotion. It is not that they don’t have them - they are just not supposed to display them. Some go so far as to seem unemotional, disinterested or even bored. This outer stoicism is to hide their inner mental state. In Japanese, one way to say, “emotions” is shinsho (心緒). Shin means “heart” or “mind” and sho means “mental state.” The reason Japanese martial artists try not to show emotion is because emotions can show the true state of their minds or hearts. This information can be dangerous because our opponents can use it against us. Our opponents try to incite us to show emotion because a show of emotion can create an opening in our mental state which the opponent can use to defeat us.

Our mental state is supposed to be like a deep dark well where emotions cannot be easily dredged up by our opponent. This is not a suppression of emotions where one buries them deep. It is more like a black hole where matter has seemingly disappeared from the universe. It is an equanimous state where the Japanese martial artists have their emotions so in check that they have seemingly disappeared. That is why equanimity is one of the highest teachings in the Japanese martial arts. The more we develop ourselves, the deeper the root of our equanimity. Therefore, in order for our enemy to shake our equanimity and incite us, they would have to kirikomu (切り込む) or “cut deeply into” us.

In class, in the beginning of our Aikido training, the uke or “training partner” is supposed to wait to attack us until we are ready. Seems contrived, but this is done so that the nage can center and compose themselves. Once the nage is composed, they practice being stoic when attacked. This method helps to teach them equanimity or how to be unemotional and unflinching when attacked. Later in one’s training, the uke attacks more spontaneously and doesn’t wait until we are settled. Attacking spontaneously is a good test of our ability to remain calm and centered. This is the idea behind Miyamoto Musashi’s “No fear, no hesitation, no surprise, no doubt.” With fear, we could hesitate, succumb to surprise, or fall into self-doubt.

In Aikido and in life, to have nerves of steel means that we are able to stand stoically in the face of fear. George Addair said, “Everything you've ever wanted is sitting on the other side of fear.” Thus, if we can keep our emotions in check, then there is nothing which can hold us back from having the life that we want. That is why the best Aikidoists train to have nerves of steel.

Today’s goal: Keep your emotions in check. Never let them see you sweat.

Watch this video to better understand nerves of steel.

Strive to Fail

“Success is not achieved by winning all the time. Real success comes when we rise after we fall. Some mountains are higher than others. Some roads steeper than the next. There are hardships and setbacks, but you cannot let them stop you. Even on the steepest road you must not turn back.” - Muhammad Ali

The best Aikidoists are defined by their failures not their victories. Failure teaches us way more than success ever will. Aikido training teaches us how to use failure in a positive way. Our defeats and failures are the true story of our lives.

We are celebrated for our successes, but success is just the reward for our hard work and it doesn’t necessarily teach us anything. We learn the most from our failures. That is why the Japanese believe in the proverb shippaihaseikounomoto (失敗は成功の元) or that “failure teaches success.”

In the eyes of a martial artist, failure is a good thing because they understand that true power resides not in winning but in resiliency. Resiliency is “the capacity to withstand or to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness.” In Japanese, the word for “strong” or “powerful” is tsuyoi (強い) but it can also mean “to be resilient.” We see this understanding of tsuyoi in the martial arts term utarezuyoi (打たれ強い) which advocates that we must be able “to take a hit” but it also means “to be strong in the face of criticism or adversity.”

When we think of resiliency the proverb that comes to mind is nana korobi ya oki (七転び八起き) or “To fall down seven times, but get up eight.” The idea is that success is really in being able to get up one more time. In Aikido class, we put this proverb into practice every day. Taking ukemi is the physical manifestation of this proverb. With every throw, we are desensitizing ourselves to the act of falling down and every time we get up, we are reinforcing the practice of resiliency. The more we practice, the more resilient we become. Later in our training, we start to see our resiliency grow not only on the mat but in our daily life as well.

In Aikido and in life, our defeats and failures come to define us, they become the true story of our lives. The true story of our lives is not about what we won or who we beat but what we overcame to get there. Hyakusenrenma (百戦錬磨) is “a veteran who is schooled by adversity in 100 battles.” Most of us lose way more than we win. True success is in getting up one more time especially when we don’t want to and thus the only thing which will teach us this strength is failure. That is why the best Aikidoists are defined by their failures not their victories.

Today’s goal: When life or your opponent knocks you down, just get up one more time.

Watch this video to better understand failure leads to success.

Authenticity

“The courage to be happy also includes the courage to be disliked.” - Author Ichiro Kishimi

The best Aikidoists have the courage to be disliked.

One of the things we are striving for in our Aikido training is to be shinsei (真正) or “authentic.” To be authentic is “to live your life according to your own values and goals, rather than those of other people.” Thus, in order for some of us to be authentic, we need to have the courage to be disliked.

Having the courage to be disliked is not intentionally becoming the villain in someone else’s story. It is also not actively and intentionally being selfish. Having the courage to be disliked is to intentionally be authentic which might cause some people to not like us. Some of those people might not like us because their entire relationship with us is based upon always getting their way. True relationships always have a balance - sometimes we give and sometimes we take but we never take more than we give, and we never give more than we take.

In Aikido training, there is also this balance of give and take. When we train with our partners, we should always be pushing them to help them improve. Furuya Sensei said, “Take them to their [furthest] level and then take it one step farther.” He didn’t end it with “smash them” or “kill them.” Sensei specifically stated, “one step farther” with the key word being “one.” Only going one step requires restraint and discipline.

An interesting thing happens when some people start Aikido training. Some have a problem grabbing their partners strongly or striking them. When you ask them to grab your wrist, they hold it very gently. When you ask them to hit you, they intentionally come up short or miss. One reason why this phenomenon happens is because we were conditioned that intentionally grabbing people, striking them, or throwing them down is impolite. Later in our training, we learn that a strong attack is not only necessary but, on a certain level, the polite or right thing to do because our job as someone’s training partner is to push them “one step farther” so that they can improve.

Sensei used to jokingly say, “You can’t make an omelet without breaking a few arms.” What he meant was that in class, students should train hard with the intention of training hard and giving their partners a good workout. To do that, sometimes they might get frustrated, angry, or even hurt. If we train hard with the intention to hurt or dominate someone is wrong. If we train hard with the intention of helping them improve and they get upset or hurt, then we didn’t exercise Sensei’s “one step” rule. We are only human, and this is likely to happen more often than not, but if it does happen then we should apologize afterwards and better meter ourselves the next time.

In Aikido, we are striving to understand harmony. Not so much harmony with others but harmony within ourselves. That we can find true harmony within ourselves while in the presence of others as they are attacking us is the true paradox of Aikido training. True harmony means living authentically and thus some people will like us and some people won’t.

Today’s goal: Know your true worth and have the courage to be disliked.

Watch this video to better understand people pleasing.

Patience

"The two most powerful warriors are patience and time." — Leo Tolstoy

The best Aikidoists defeat others with patience. Someone once said, “The heart of a samurai should be in patience and waiting.” One way to say “patience” in Japanese is konki (根氣). Kon means “root” and ki means “energy.” Thinking about the translation of the Japanese characters, one could theorize that patience is the root of our power.

Oftentimes, having patience feels like boredom and looks like laziness. However, to an Aikidoist patience is not passive at all. To be bored is “to feel weary because one is unoccupied or lacks interest in one's current activity.” In this sense, the malaise of boredom is passive. Patience is defined as, “the capacity to accept or tolerate delay, trouble, or suffering without getting angry or upset.” The key phrase is “without getting angry or upset.” In a martial arts context, patience is active because we have to mindfully maintain our composure when we are confronted by failure, difficulties or discomfort. Thus, patience is a superpower.

In Aikido training we learn the value of being patient. In class, one thing that we are trying to learn is how to read the rhythm or timing of our partner’s attack. If we can read their rhythm, then we can see the suki (隙) or “opening” within their movements and exploit it. One way to look at it is that the body is a system of levers. When levers are opening, other levers must be closing. As something is closing (contracting) or opening (extending), a momentary weak point appears that we can attack and use to gain the victory. To train oneself to see an opening requires patience because only time and experience can teach us this skill. Patience is also required so that we can exploit the opening at just the right moment for success.

Aikido training teaches how to use patience as a weapon. “To defeat someone with patience or persistence” is referred to as konmake (根負け). Training is supposed to be a gaman taikai (我慢大会) or “a test of one’s perseverance.” Gaman (我慢) means “to persevere” and taikai means “tournament.”  When people hear this, they immediately think of pain but it is really more of a test of wills. The gaman taikai answers the inner question of “How much can I take?” We defeat people because we can outlast them but the real opponent we are defeating is ourselves. We must have patience when things become difficult or uncomfortable, and we must have the perseverance to see things through to the end.

Leo Tolstoy said, “Patience is waiting. Not passively waiting. That is laziness. But to keep going when the going is hard and slow - that is patience.” Both Aikido and life are filled with ups and downs, victories, and defeats. The hardest part is to have patience and continue on when things aren’t seemingly going our way. In Japanese, they say that success is unkondon (運根鈍) or a function of  “luck, patience, and steadfastness.” No one gives it to us, we must work hard and defeat our adversities with patience.

Today’s goal: Be patient, your day will come - defeat them with patience.

Watch this video to better understand patience.

Everyday Courage

“Everyday courage has few witnesses. But yours is no less noble because no drum beats for you and no crowds shout your name.” - Author Robert Louis Stevenson

The best Aikidoists have everyday courage.

Courage is defined as “the ability to do something that frightens us.” One way to say, “courage” in Japanese is yuuki (勇氣). Yuuki directly translates to mean “courageous energy.” When we think of courage, we often think of heroics or grand gestures. We envision a single warrior standing against many who is yuuki wo dasu (勇氣を出す) or “summoning the courage” to fight. Courage in this sense only seems to come about in those once in a lifetime dare to be great situations. Here, we either have it or we don’t. For most of us, the problem is that our true dare to be great moment never seems to materialize and thus we walk around unsure if we have it or don’t.

Everyday courage is the scaled down version of courage. Everyday courage is the ability to meet life’s small seemingly benign challenges that may not be life threatening but still require inner strength to see them through. Author Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, “Everyday courage has few witnesses. But yours is no less noble because no drum beats for you and no crowds shout your name.” Everyday courage is the dress rehearsal for those dare to be great moments. The idea is that if we can mindfully display courage in the little things that are for the most part banal or uncomfortable, then chances are we should be able to make the jump to big courage when the time comes.   banal platitudes

Aikido is the ultimate self-development tool because one of the things it teaches us is everyday courage. Aikido is not something that we master - it is something that we practice. The word practice implies that we get the opportunity to fail, get back up, and try again. To fail and try again requires courage. To do something that we are not good at requires courage. To take in a correction from the teacher requires courage. To be dead tired or not want to go to class and still show up requires courage. Aikido teaches us that with every act of micro courage our macro courage grows and over time as the Japanese proverb states, “even specks of dust if piled up can become mountains” or chiri mo tsumoreba yama to naru (塵も積もれば山となる).

Furuya Sensei once wrote, “One aesthetic of traditional martial arts which is absent in our discussions is that the warrior often must accept their circumstances, however dim, very quietly and with courage - quiet courage.” Understanding this, the main difference between an Aikidoist and a normal person is that Aikido teaches us to mindfully take into account the acts of everyday courage. We realize that with every act of everyday courage, we come closer to knowing who we are and whether or not we will have courage when our dare to be great moment shows up.

In Aikido and in life, we are buffeted by circumstances which are not within our control. Most are not life threatening but are more like an annoying paper cut. But, a paper cut nonetheless still requires a little bit of courage.

Today’s goal: See the victories in everyday courage. Everyday courage brings about everyday victories. 

Watch this video and listen to David Foster Wallace's speech to better understand how to look at life and its banal platitudes

Watch Your Spacing

The best Aikidoist always keeps their distance. One corrections that Furuya Sensei would often say was, “Watch your spacing.” In Japanese traditional arts, “spacing” or ma-ai (間合い) is the distance between two opponents. It is said that the best martial artist “commands spacing and timing.” It is thought that if one can control the spacing, then they can control the timing and vice versa. Timing is a more ephemeral concept to understand and thus harder to grasp. Spacing is easier to understand and learn because it is physical.

One question that students often ask is, “How close should we be to our opponents?”The answer is that one’s ma-ai (間合い) or “spacing” depends on one’s ability level and what art is being practiced. Every martial art has its optimal spacing. Striking arts tend to be farther away than grappling arts. Weapon arts also employ a variety of different spacings based on the technology of the weapon. One reason why many arts employ the use of weapons in their arts is so that students not only learn how to use them but also learn their spacings as well.

When we understanding spacing, we realize it is an important factor in controlling the tachiai (立ち合い) or “the initial moment of contact.” Being able to know and control where an opponent will be and what they will be doing at the moment of attack is the key to being able to obtain the victory.

Aikido utilizes swordsmanship spacing which is called issoku itto no ma (一足一刀の間) or the distance one can cover in “one step, one cut.” The basic distance is approximately six steps apart or the distance where each swordsman’s sword tips slightly overlap. One reason a swordsman utilizes this range is because when the sword tips touch, a good swordsman can supposedly read their opponent’s energy and mental state and use it against them. Later, as we become more proficient, we start to stretch that spacing out.

In Aikido, we begin with grabbing attacks. One reason for this is because static attacks teach the novice spacing. This is the basis of learning the “one step, one cut” mentality. In the beginning, our opponent builds a strong grip and then we learn to overcome that grab with movement and create a technique with our movement. Later, as we become more experienced the attack becomes more dynamic and we move as the spacing collapses just prior to or as the opponent grabs. This is also where we introduce more dynamic attacks like striking.

Spacing is so important that there is a saying in the martial arts: “Range is king.” This adage holds true in Aikido and in life. In everything we do, we should try to keep the optimal distance which enables us to be safe but still remain effective. It is dangerous to allow people or our opponents to get too close to us too soon. To gain a person’s confidence and trust takes time. The other day, Ken Watanabe Shihan said, “A martial artist always takes the longest path to cover the shortest distance.” Understanding this, perhaps that is why the best Aikidoist always keeps their distance.

Today’s goal: Watch your spacing. Not everyone has your best intentions at heart.

Watch this video to better understand swordsmanship distance

Don't Forget!

On this day 17 years ago, Rev. Kensho Furuya passed away

Furuya Sensei posted this to his Daily Message on June 17, 2004.

Just My Thoughts

Whether you are successful in this world or a failure. Whether people praise you or laugh at you. Everyone of us will still grow old and eventually pass away. It is better to focus on a simple Life and try to do some good for others in the short time we are here. Just pursue what you truly believe in but be sure that it is not just for yourself but for those around you as well.

Better Not Bitter

“Have a heart that never hardens, and a temper that never tires, and a touch that never hurts.” - Charles Dickens

The best Aikidoists strive to be better, not bitter. To be bitter is “to be angry and unhappy because we cannot forget the bad things that have happened to us in the past.” In life, the trials and tribulations have the tendency to add up. As they add up, we become hardened. We can become hardened in a good way or in a bad way.

In Japanese, a “bitter experience” is korigori (懲り懲り) which can also mean “to be fed up.” Perhaps that is why the kanji is repeated because most of us need to experience something at least twice before we can realize that we need to change it. The problem with allowing something to go on too long is that we run the risk of allowing it to get to our hearts and we become bitter.

As a general rule in Aikido, we never block an opponent’s attack. Blocking forces us to receive or absorb the power or energy from our opponent’s attack. In Aikido, we neutralize our opponent’s attacks with movement. When I say movement, I don’t mean running away out of fear. What I mean is purposefully and mindfully moving in or away with the power of the attack. This purposeful movement allows us to align with the power of the attack. Alignment allows us to reorient the power of the attack. Changing the power of the attack enables us to redirect that power into a throw or pin. This is ki no nagare (氣の流れ) or “the flow of ki.” To flow with the ki or “energy” of the attack means that we are not absorbing the power of the attack or taking on the energy of the attack either.

Things will happen - most times they are unpleasant. Furuya Sensei said, “Dojos are not built upon successes but on many failures.” These failures have a way of hardening us. In a good way, it steels us so that we are better equipped to tolerate failures and setbacks in the future. In a bad way, it can harden our hearts which makes us bitter. When we are bitter, all we see is red and every problem becomes a head that needs to be chopped off and this is not healthy.

Interestingly, the word korigori can also mean “to learn from a bad experience.”When untoward things happen, we can see them as a gift to help us change and become better people. Perhaps that is why the Japanese say ryouyakuhakuchininigashi (良薬は口に苦し) or that “good medicine tastes bitter.”

In life and in Aikido, it is easy for the abused to become the abuser. Aikidoists are supposed to be more sophisticated people who understand the truth of humanity - everyone suffers. Understanding this, the untoward things that happen to us lose their edge and just become lessons that we need to learn, and its hardship is just making us better people. Author Roy T. Bennett said, “Never let hard lessons harden your heart; the hard lessons of life are meant to make you better, not bitter.” Thus, the best Aikidoists strive to be better, not bitter.

Today’s goal: Just because someone hurt you doesn’t mean you have to hurt them - break the cycle of bitterness.

Watch this video to better understand better not bitter

Focus

“When facing a single tree, if you look at a single one of its red leaves, you will not see all the others. When the eye is not set on one leaf, and you face the tree with nothing at all in mind, any number of leaves are visible to the eye without limit.” - Takuan Soho

The best Aikidoists focus on the right things. In the beginning of our training, it is thought that students should focus more on negative things like failure, mistakes, and flaws. The reason why is that these things are thought to give us the surest picture of where we are in our self-development. Looking for the negative is supposed to help us to defeat others because we get “good at finding weak points” or suki wo mitsukeru noga jozu desu (隙を見つけるのが上手です). Students of the martial arts are supposed to be consummate self-developers and so this way of emphasizing the negative is supposed to desensitize them to failure and enable them to improve faster. Unemotionally looking at ourselves this way enables us to create a cycle where we can fall down, we get up, we re-evaluate, and then we improve. Perhaps that is why Furuya Sensei once wrote, “To fail is the starting point of further study.” The main downside is that when we habitually search for the negative, we can accidentally cultivate a mind which can only see negativity and then our outlook can become inherently negative.

When students have cultivated a mind that can easily see the negative openings, then they should start to shift their approach to training to be more balanced. When we have balance, we can unemotionally see what we did wrong but also and also take to heart the things that they did right. We might call this the well-adjusted student.

In class, students often get confused when they watch a teacher demonstrate a technique. This confusion occurs because teaching styles and points of emphasis tend to vary from person to person and also depend on things like body type, gender, and ability level. Here is a process that I use when I watch a teacher demonstrating a technique. First, I try to determine what technique the teacher is doing. Is it ikkyo, kotegaeshi, or some other technique I have done before? Secondly, if it is a technique that I have done, then I try to look for similarities. I use these first two steps to establish a baseline. Thirdly, I look for the things that are different from how I do it. Finally, I try to listen closely to the points the teacher is emphasizing. The last two steps help me to execute the technique whichever way the teacher is demonstrating it. I also use this process for techniques that I haven’t done or seen before. The reason why it also works is because the body only moves in specific ways and if I can notice a similar or difference then I can likely figure out and recreate what the teacher is doing.

Furuya Sensei advocated for something he referred to as “saikan kobai” [sic] or “the elegant apricot flower and the strong plum blossom.” He said, “Saikan kobai means to focus too much on war makes us rough and crude while the emphasis on too much beauty makes us weak.” Thus, we should not emphasize too much of any one thing. The goal of Aikido is to develop balance not only in body but in mind as well.

Today’s goal: Count our victories as much as you emphasize our defeats.

Watch this video to better understand focus

Actively Choose

“I choose to live by choice, not by chance.” - Miyamoto Musashi

The best Aikidoists understand the power of active choice. In behavioral economics, active choice is “a decision-making strategy that involves making conscious and deliberate choices about what options to pursue.” In psychology, this might be called “putting oneself first.” Putting yourself first means “to not neglect your own needs.” Choosing oneself might seem to be contrary to the ethos of the samurai because, after all, samurai (侍) means “one who serves.” Thus, a samurai’s life seems devoid of choice and thus they do not get to live at their own discretion. However, that is not entirely true.

Most samurai were born into their professions and were taught to serve their superiors and, if needs be, sacrifice their lives. Thus, they seemingly have no choice and so it might be incredibly difficult for a samurai to choose themselves first. However, what most don’t realize is that to give up one’s life is actually a choice. People often erroneously think that the samurai “loved death.” They do not. Knowing that they are going to die, they learn how to live and so choosing is an active choice.

From the outside looking in, Aikido might look like one person doing techniques on another person. On a certain level, this is true. However, on a deeper level, we do Aikido “with” our partners not “to” our partners. There is a difference. “With” suggests that there is a certain active synergy between two people. Doing it “to” someone implies that one person is active, and the other one is passive.   

In class, when the movement of two people training together becomes disjointed, I often ask them the trick question, “Who is in charge?” The correct answer for either person is  supposed to be “I am.” Simultaneously within the movement of any technique, each person is actively in charge of themselves. The uke or “the one being thrown” consciously moves with their partner and then actively chooses how they will take the technique being done to them. For the nage or “the one throwing,” they consciously move with the attack and search for an opening to create a technique to do. Each person is actively engaged in the choice of doing their part with one another.

In psychology, a healthy person has boundaries and puts themselves first but not in a narcissistic way. This is supposed to be more of a self-love or “to have the regard for one's own well-being and happiness.” Putting ourselves first is supposed to be done in a healthy way which is in line with our personal goals and done with healthy boundaries. From the samurai point of view, despite the horrors of war and the finality of death, the true samurai warrior actively engages in choice. Active choice is freedom. When we actively choose, we are engaging in self-love which might seem like a foreign concept for a samurai, but they have realized that in accepting and choosing their own deaths, they are actually truly living.

In Aikido and in life, everything we do is a choice. No matter what happens to us, we have the ability to choose how to respond. Sometimes, it may not seem that way but even a samurai chooses themselves first as they throw themselves to their doom. The best Aikidoists have realized that there is a power in engaging in active choice.

Today’s goal: In everything that we do there is a choice.

Watch this video to better understand choice

Stretch Yourself

The best Aikidoist stretch themselves. Aikido training teaches us how to not only stretch our bodies but also how to stretch our minds. Aikido mastery lies in the art of stretching which is a principle that extends beyond the mere physical and permeates into the realm of physical and intellectual growth.

In class, we should be keeping in mind the concept of nagedasu (投げ出す). Nagedasu means “to throw down” or “throw out,” but it also means “to stretch out one's legs.”

From the context of nagedasu in throwing, most students in the beginning don’t have good timing which means that their spacing will be off as well. These shortcomings cause them to throw their opponents down and close to them. Throwing one’s opponent close is supposed to be more juvenile in terms of ability because it can lead to a reversal. With time and experience, a student’s ability becomes more sophisticated, and they learn to throw their opponents out and away from them. This is supposed to be “safer” as the rotation of a throw thrown outward spreads out the power of the throw and also throws the opponent a safe distance away from us. Nagedasu in terms of stretching isn’t about flexibility. Nagedasu in this sense means to stretch one’s movement. Typically, this stretching starts with our lower bodies and legs. We try to stretch the amount of movement we can cover in a single step. This is the case whether we are either irimi or “moving in” on our opponents or  tenshin or “moving away” from them. Stretching our movement is how we learn to throw our opponents out and away from us. This concept is supposed to be the difference between something being classified as a kokyunage or “breath” throw or a plain old nage-waza throw.     

Stretching oneself is not just a concept in Aikido training. One word for “stretching” in Japanese is nobasu (伸ばす) which means “to lengthen, extend, stretch, reach out or smooth out.” In the context of martial arts training, nobasu also means “to strengthen, develop, or expand.” This is the crossover between Aikido training and daily life. When we learn to stretch ourselves in our training, we can then extrapolate that mindset and search for places where we can “stretch” ourselves in every aspect of our lives. This holds true from making pancakes to recovering from an injury. Nothing is off limits from gaining the benefits of stretching.

Stretching in movement and in mind takes a certain amount of humility. If we think that we have reached our saishuhensei (最終編成) or “final form,” then we have stopped growing. In Aikido and in life, if we cannot learn, we cannot grow and if we cannot grow, then we cannot change. Change or constant improvement is the crux of Aikido training. To firmly do so requires that we stretch ourselves out of our comfort zones. No one knows it all. The difference between an Aikidoist and a normal person is that we know we don’t and constantly strive to be better. The best Aikidoists have the humility to stretch themselves not only on the mat but in every aspect of their lives.

Today’s goal: Don’t forget to stretch your mind while you are stretching your body.

Watch this video to better understand stretching

Quiet Your Mind

“It is the very mind itself that leads the mind astray; of the mind, do not be mindless.” Takuan Soho

The best Aikidoists have mastered quietude of the mind. Aikido training teaches us how to quiet our minds so that we can be present in the moment.

Yamaoka Tesshu was one of the greatest swordsmen of his time. Yamaoka Tesshu, as a young student of Zen, visited one master after another. He called upon Dokuon of Shokoku. Desiring to show his attainment, he said: “The mind, Buddha, and sentient beings, after all, do not exist. The true nature of phenomena is emptiness. There is no realization, no delusion, no sage, and no mediocrity. There is no giving and nothing to be received.” Dokuon, who was smoking quietly, said nothing. Suddenly he whacked Tesshu with his bamboo pipe. This made the youth quite angry. “If nothing exists,” inquired Dokuon, “where did this anger come from?”

Like Tesshu, most of us aren’t aware of what is truly there. Our minds speak to us and we don’t realize that most of the time the voice is either not even ours or is telling us things that aren’t entirely true.

The other day, I heard something interesting about self-talk. The person on the video said that the self-talk has to be real in order for our minds to accept it. Most times, negative self-talk is based in a past reality. Someone either really said it to you, it really happened, or you were actually made to feel that way. Therefore, to re-train our minds for positive self-talk it has to be somewhat real for our minds to believe it and for it to work faster.

In Japanese traditional arts, we are striving to attain mushin (無心) or “no mind.” When we say no-mind we don’t mean brain-dead or to be mindless. Mushin is a mental state where one is devoid of holding on to conscious thought. This is where Aikido training comes in. In most classes, the training is done in silence. Students and teachers alike are supposed to keep the talking to a minimum. One reason for this quietude is so that the students can hear their inner voices clearly. Once we can hear our inner voices clearly, then we can decide if what is being said is true. At the same time, that moment is happening in real time, and someone is attacking us. This immediacy forces us to turn off our minds. With time and training, this state becomes easier to get into and becomes almost a habit and silencing our inner voice becomes an all the time thing.

Aikido training teaches us how to quiet our minds so that we can be present in the moment. Ken Watanabe Shihan said, “When your shoulders sit, the technique has entered your body.” On a certain level, the only way for the technique to enter our bodies is when we have quieted our minds. The best don’t talk to themselves, but when they do it is always positive and based in reality.

Today’s goal: Practice mindfulness by quieting your mind, stay present in activities, and cultivate positive self-talk.

Watch this video to better understand self-doubt

Appreciation

"In order to be happy, we must first possess inner contentment; and inner contentment doesn’t come from having all we want, but rather from wanting, appreciating, and being grateful for all we have."
- His Holiness the Dalai Lama

The best Aikidoists embrace appreciation, recognizing it as the difference between perspective and perception, and understand that it is at the core of contentment.

When I was a student, one of the few life lessons that Furuya Sensei gave me was, "You need to learn appreciation." As a willful teenager, I thought that Furuya Sensei was talking about me appreciating him and that I should be more subservient to him. Now, I understand that perhaps what he was talking about was the difference between perspective and perception.

Perception is self-centered and has to do with how we interpret the world that is spinning around us. Perspective is the ability to view the world outside of ourselves and see things as being parts of a whole. It is very hard to appreciate things and people when we can only see them from our own limited perception, which is the definition of self-centeredness.

In Aikido, many things are metaphoric. For instance, we neutralize people’s attacks with movement. As we move in, we align our bodies with theirs. This alignment is what enables us “to use their power against them,” as we are so fond of talking about when we explain Aikido in a bar to the uninitiated. However, at the same time, we are unknowingly teaching ourselves something called perspective taking. Perspective taking is “the act of perceiving a situation or understanding a concept from an alternative point of view, such as that of another individual.” The shift in perspective that we have goes from seeing that other person as our enemy who is trying to hurt us to moving in and metaphorically seeing what they see and realizing that they are just human beings who are suffering and are in need of compassion rather than destruction. Thus, we move from our own self-centered perception to taking their perspective and gaining empathy.

The Japanese have this concept called mono no aware (物の哀れ), which directly translates as “the pathos of things.” It has to do with impermanence and the understanding that all things will die, break, or fade away. Pathos means “sadness,” but it is more of an appreciation rather than a sadness. Sad implies mourning the loss. Appreciation is the ability to fully enjoy something knowing that it will not last.

Appreciation is a form of awareness. Essentially, we must become aware of something in order to appreciate it. Aikido training circuitously teaches us this as we strive to master the techniques because the only way to master a technique is by becoming thoroughly aware of its details. Striving to master the technique and its details is the gateway to teaching ourselves appreciation.

I understand now what Furuya Sensei was saying when he admonished me about appreciation, as appreciation is the foundation of contentment. We cannot move forward and be content if we cannot change our perceptions and adopt the perspectives and appreciations for all that we have in life.

Today’s goal: Cultivate gratitude and empathy by shifting your perspectives, and appreciating life’s little moments.

Watch this video to better understand perspective vs perception

Turmoil

心の平安は嵐を静めます
Kokoro no heian wa arashi wo shizumemasu
Inner peace will quiet any storm

The best Aikidoists excel at turmoil. I don’t mean creating turmoil (that’s a topic for a different day). What I mean is to excel in the throes of turmoil. Aikido training teaches us how to bring order to chaos which is a method of quieting down our inner turmoil.

Turmoil is “a state of extreme confusion, uncertainty, or lack of order.” In Japanese, one way to say, “turmoil” is senka (戦渦) which means “chaos of war” or “war turmoil.” When we are experiencing turmoil, everything around us seems like it is burning down. However, turmoil might seem like an outside disorder because people are attacking us, but the real turmoil we are experiencing exists inside of us. What is happening is that something externally falls on top of what we are already dealing with internally. This is why we tend to have a heightened reaction to something that we would normally have little or no reaction to. Modern psychology dictates that there are three responses to stress: fight, flight, and freeze. Each one of these three responses is based upon one’s habituated way of responding to any threat big or small.

Therefore, when we are confronted, we either resist, run away, or stiffen up. However, there is a fourth option - Aikido. One unintended benefit of Aikido training is that it teaches us to relax when we are confronted by an external threat. Maybe relax is the wrong word because relaxing brings to mind someone lying down and sipping a tropical drink. Perhaps a better term is quietude. In Japanese, “quietude” or seijaku (静寂) means “silence” or “stillness.” In quietude, we neither resist, run away, or stiffen up because those actions are “reactions” to stress and are mindless. Quietude is a balanced inner state where we are mindful but what that means is that we have separated the inner from the outer and the past from the present. This separation enables the stress to be singular and not attached to any previous experience and thus we can deal with it more mindfully.

Turmoil may seem like an external event even though it seems to begin that way. External turmoil has a way of kicking up the senjin (戦塵) “battle dust” which falls on top of our preexisting inner strife which instantly activates us and triggers our habituated response to stress - fight, flight, or freeze.   

This phenomenon rings true in Aikido class as well. In class, when a beginner is grabbed or struck, they experience one of the three responses to stress and either resist, stiffen up, or try to pull away and many times they do all three. Being physically attacked is the best way to ascertain one’s true response to stress. There is this interesting phenomenon that happens after about three months of training - the student starts to learn to relax or begins to understand quietude. At this point, they may still feel the pangs of stress, but they don’t immediately allow it to activate their usual stress response. Later, as they become more experienced, their learned response to stress becomes quietude, calmness, or stillness. It is not that they don’t feel the stress but rather they have learned to separate the inner from the outer and the past from the present. Doing this enables the trained Aikidoist to as Ken Watanabe Shihan says, “Bring order to chaos.”

The order we are creating in the midst of turmoil is inside of us and the order we learn to create cultivates inner peace. The best Aikidoists know that “Inner peace will quiet any storm” and that is why they excel in the throes of turmoil.

Today’s goal: Do Aikido and don’t let life’s turmoil cheat you out of enjoying your day.

Watch this video to better understand dealing with turmoil

Fearless

“The art of living is more like wrestling than dancing, in so far as it stands ready against
the accidental and the unforeseen and is not apt to fall.”
- Marcus Aurelius, Meditations

Aikido is probably one of the best self-development tools. Aikido can teach us things like follow through, patience, and assertiveness and it can also help us stay in shape. However, where Aikido really excels at is in the confrontation of fear.

O’Sensei advocated for masakatsu agatsu (正勝吾勝) or that “the true victory is self-victory.” On a certain level, what O’Sensei is really talking about is fear. All new or difficult endeavors come with some amount of fear. A normal person allows themselves to be overtaken by fear. Aikidoists feel fear but they just don’t allow it to stop them.

The definition of fear is “an unpleasant emotion caused by the belief that someone or something is dangerous, likely to cause pain, or is a threat.” Someone on the internet coined this idea that FEAR is an acronym that stands for False Evidence Appearing Real. Thus, if fear is an emotion, the question becomes “Is fear real?”

Fear is a feeling or an emotion and not tangible. Understanding this, one thing that we unknowingly learn in Aikido practice is to confront our fears to see if they are real. In Aikido, there are so many layers to the training from the physical like rolling, complicated techniques, or difficult opponents to the mental-emotional like frustration, self-doubt, or anger. With each layer there are new levels of stress, anxiety, or fear. It is easy to think that adversity is the signal that we are going in the wrong direction. However, in Aikido, whatever or whomever is causing us fear is the way we are supposed to go. Maybe that is why the first thing we learn in Aikido is irimi or the ability to “move forward.” When we feel fear, the question we should ask ourselves is “Is that real?” The only way to truly know if something is real is to stand up to it. One Japanese word for “fear” is anjiru (案じる) but it can also mean “to take one’s sword in hand.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson said, “He who is not everyday conquering some fear has not learned the secret of life.” We all feel fear - no one is immune to it. Fear is merely the gateway, and we cannot be victorious over something unless we are first brave enough to go through those doors. Anyone can physically best another person, but only a real warrior can defeat themselves. With every fear we overcome, a new layer of ourselves is revealed and we come just a little bit closer to finding our true selves. Perhaps that is why O’Sensei stressed defeating ourselves over fighting with others. When confronted by fear, the best Aikidoists quietly say to themselves, “Is that so?” and irimi into the challenge. If nothing else, Aikidoists are brave enough to have the curiosity to see if their fears are true.

Today’s goal: Whatever is causing you fear - go in that direction.

Watch this video of former Navy Seal Jocko Willink to better understand facing fear

Perspective

“If the mind is wrong, the sword is also wrong.
To study the sword, you must also study the mind.” - Toranosuke Shimada

In Aikido, mindset creates perspective. In Japanese, “the way of looking at things” or “one’s mindset” is mononomikata (物の見方). Thus, how we “see” something is dictated by the mindset we choose to cultivate.

When I was a student, sometimes Furuya Sensei would sometimes only demonstrate the technique one time. By the time we sat down, he was already walking away. At that point, we would all jump up and quizzically start doing what we thought he might have done. Sensei would get exasperatedly and when was showing us again, he would chastise us by saying, “Turn off your minds and see what I am doing.” What Sensei was doing was a test. He wanted to see which of us had developed the skill of “seeing.” In Japanese, some people call this minuku (見抜く) or “to perceive” but it means “to be able to see into someone's heart or mind.”

In class, more than learning what to do, we have to learn how to see. I don’t just mean where to look, but how to look. In Japanese learning “how to look at something” is called mikata (見方). In traditional training this begins with something called minarai keiko (見習い稽古) or “The practice of watching and copying.” It is a practice because we have to learn to look at something without any judgement or emotion. To do this properly, we have to learn to turn off our minds. In other words, we have to get into a subconscious state. It is said that our conscious minds can only take in 50 bits of information per second while our subconscious minds can process up to 20,000,000 bits per second. When we can get into a subconscious state of mind, this is how we develop an eye for the technique and how we learn faster.

The more we watch and listen without judgement or emotion, the more we start to see and hear things that were previously clouded by our biased perspectives. This is one reason why people should come and watch class when they are injured. Being forced to sit out is a great way to train one’s eye. When our perspectives become quiet, then our minds start to see, and ears start to listen and this enables us to learn incredibly faster.

It takes no training to hurt others. However, the mind is the most powerful weapon but requires training. That is why Shimada advocates studying the mind. Ram Dass said, “The mind is a wonderful servant, but a terrible master.” Our minds or how we choose to see the world can drive us to destroy or teach us to be kind. That is why mindsets and perspectives are a choice. If we come from a place of abundance, then we see life as being abundant. If all we see is lack, then the world will be a cold and evil place. If all we see are nails, then we are more apt to only be hammers. Aikido training gives us the ability to mindfully see rather than mindlessly judge. That is why the best Aikidoists are good at seeing.

Today’s goal: Spend time cultivating a positive mindset.

Watch this Sesame Street video to help you learn better.