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.

Create Alignment

“It is through the alignment of the body that I discovered the
alignment of my mind, self, and intelligence.” - B.K.S Iyengar

The best Aikidoists create alignment. In Aikido, there is no collision or any type of force-on-force confrontation.

When we talk about the word ai (合) in Aikido, we usually translate it to mean “harmony.” The dictionary defines ai as “fit” or “to join.” Understanding this definition paints a picture of two things coming together smoothly which people interpret as “harmony.” However, this overly simplistic word becomes more abstract than practical. One word Furuya Sensei would often use instead of harmony was “alignment.” He would often admonish us by saying, “Align your body to line up with the other person’s power.”

Using the word alignment gives us something more physical rather than metaphysical to strive towards. To align our bodies with our opponent’s we must move into their attack regardless if it is a grab or a strike. By moving in and aligning our bodies, it changes the orientation of power which enables us to use it for our own purposes. Not only does alignment allow us to use their power, but it enables us to “see” what they see. At this point, this is where it gets a bit metaphysical or new agey. When we can see what they see, then we can understand where they are coming from or what their motives are. This is where this idea of “harmony” comes from because aligning with them helps us to humanize them. When we can humanize someone, then we no longer see them as a threat but as a person who is acting out their suffering. From this place, we can begin to realize O’Sensei’s understanding of the Indian philosophy of ahimsa or “non-violence.”

In class, we should give our partners a good attack. A good attack has energy. A good attack teaches our partner how to properly align their bodies. A bad attack has no real energy or threat and can lull us into a false sense of reality. A good attack forces our partner out of their comfort zone and is helpful because we know that change can only occur outside of our comfort zones. We push our partners to go just a bit farther than they are capable of not to be a jerk but in the spirit of helping them improve. In order to give a good attack, we have to be not only self-aware, but we also be mindful of the other person.

Miyamoto Musashi’s first principle in his Dokkodo or the supposed 21 rules he lived by was “Accept things as they are.” Thinking about this, the first rule in creating alignment might possibly be “don’t resist.” To resist something, we must move or stand “against” it. To align something, we must move “with” it. To accept something is to align with its power. When we can align with it, we can redirect it and use it as our own.

Carl Jung said, “What you resist persists.” In Aikido and in life, if want to change that which confronts us, we must first accept it and then align with it. The true power of Aikido comes from non-resistance and that can only begin with alignment.

Today’s goal: Change your circumstance by aligning with it and going with the flow.

Watch this video to better understand how what we resist, persists.

Sticktoitiveness

The best Aikidoist have sticktoitiveness. Sticktoitiveness is “the quality that allows someone to continue trying to do something even though it is difficult or unpleasant.” Sticktoitiveness is about our ability to stay connected.

In Aikido, we refer to “the ability to stay connected with our partner” as kimusubi (氣結び). Our ability to kimusubi or not demonstrates our level of skill. It is considered lower level if the uke “breaks” their connection with the nage. It is also considered a low level if the nage uses too much strength and “breaks” the connection as well. Later, as we advance in skill, as both the uke or nage, we learn to maintain the connection with our partner and move as they do.

In the beginning, we try to maintain the connection physically. Typically, beginners do this by grabbing stronger. To grab stronger, we have to not only bare down physically but also stiffen our bodies. This only causes our grip to break when our partner moves because we are focusing on our grip and cannot move our bodies or feet.

Later, we learn to move with our partner’s movements to maintain the connection. This is where the connection becomes more mental or when our “ki” (氣) becomes connected. At this stage in our Aikido training, we start to understand ki no nagare or “the flow of ki” and kokyu or “the synchronization of breaths.” Here, the connection is, for lack of a better word, mental and we learn to stay connected even when the person is not physically touching us like when they are attacking us with a strike.

When we are connected, we are able to harmonize with the attack, align with its power, and redirect that power. Therefore, what we are really learning as we learn connection is the ability to deal with problems. Life is a test of wills - it is a gaman taikai (我慢大会). Gaman means “to persevere” and taikai means “event.” Things will happen - good and bad and we have to learn to “roll with the punches” and keep on going. The normal person gives up whenever something untoward happens. Aikidoists are not normal people and through their training, they have learned how to persevere - they have learned sticktoitiveness. Being able to stay connected is the ultimate skill in Aikido because it demonstrates our willingness to keep on going no matter what happens. That is why the best Aikidoist have sticktoitiveness.   

Today’s goal: When faced with a problem, don’t break away - move with it, align with it, and redirect it but most of all just keep going.

Watch this video to better understand Grit.

Aikido: The Art of Problem Solving

“Where there is a way or path, it is someone else's. Each of us has to find our own way.” - Joseph Campbell

The Way (道) is a singular pursuit. No one can do our work for us. In the journey of Aikido and life, each of us will become entangled in our own problems and thus each of us will have to find our own way out. One way to say “to find a way out” in Japanese is shichuukyuukatsu (死中求活) which literally translates to mean “find a way out of a potentially fatal situation.” All of our problems are relative and thus to each of us they are dire or seemingly potentially fatal.

One of the unintended benefits that Aikido training gives us is how to deal with our problems. However, I do preface this by saying that although “people bring their stuff to the mat,” that Aikido is not psychotherapy or at least not directly. Basically, in Aikido, we learn to be one of three types of people. The first is a solutions-based person who looks for kaiketsuhouhou (解決方法) or “ways of solving a problem.” Typically, students are solutions-based people who are seeking answers. The second is a problems-based person who only sees things as mondai (問題) or “problems.” Another interesting way to say “problem” in Japanese is fuguai (不具合) which literally translates to mean “no tool fits.” Usually, teachers are problems-based people because they have to be able to “see” what the student is doing wrong in order to give them the appropriate correction to get them back on track. Together, the teacher and the student meet somewhere in the middle. The third type of person is the strategist. The strategist has gained the objectivity of being able to see the problem but at the same time continually look for a solution and is not mired one way or the other. In swordsmanship and Buddhism, this unemotional objectivity is referred to as equanimity or the ability to mindfully observe and consciously act. Equanimity is the ability to have shinshokujijaku (神色自若) which means “to have mental calmness, composure, and evenness of temper, especially in a difficult situation.”

Each of us has to find our own way out but essentially what we are talking about is being good at heihou (兵法) or “strategy.” Strategy is being able to quickly see problems, mindfully think ahead, and create efficient solutions. In Aikido and in life, there will always be something that will rise to confront us. No one is immune to strife. The real testament to one’s Aikido training is in our ability to deal with our problems and find our way out efficiently and unemotionally. In Aikido and in life, it is all strategy.

Today’s goal: Don’t see your problem as a threat. Look for a strategy to find your way out.

Watch this video to better understand solution oriented thinking.

Go With The Flow

The best Aikidoists go with the flow. In Aikido, to go with the flow is referred to as ki no nagare (氣の流れ) or “the flow of ki.” To be able to go with the flow is to be able to observe a system and step into its natural rhythm. To go with the flow never means to push or force something in any way.

Each of us has a natural rhythm or timing. Everything we do, from grabbing to striking all the way down to breathing has a natural rhythm or timing. The more we practice, the more the rhythm of something is revealed to us. Once we can see the timing or rhythm, we try and as Furuya Sensei used to say, “break the timing.” Basically, to break the timing in Aikido means that we make the person lose their focus for just a moment which causes them to lose their balance. Aikidoists typically don’t mechanically break their opponent’s balance like in Judo. To break an opponent’s balance mechanically is deemed too juvenile. Aikido is more sophisticated and thus we “take” our opponent’s balance. “Take” is the operant word which implies that we do it by exploiting the exact right moment in their timing and/or reaction. This is the secret as to how Aikido “works.”

The easiest way to understand this is when we take the stairs. Have you ever been walking up or down a flight of stairs and lost your step? No one tripped you and nothing was in your way, but you still somehow lost your step and stumbled. What happened is that your conscious mind interfered with a subconscious task which made you lose the rhythm of your step, lose your focus, and that caused you to lose your balance. Most of us don’t fall down, but we do lose our balance even if it was just for a moment (and hopefully no one saw us). This momentary loss of concentration is what happens when our timing is broken.

In Aikido, if there is no real attack or an attack without purpose, then there is no real flow to get into. Aikido is not professional wrestling with no real attacks and only set-ups to create techniques or throws for show. Aikido is very sophisticated. What makes it sophisticated is that everything is done with the natural movements of the body. The main Aikido joint locks all go with the joint instead of against them and we catch the opponent’s timing to create throws. That is why most throws are considered kokyu-nage. Kokyu (呼吸) means “breathing” but it also means “to synchronize one’s breathing” or in other words “to go with someone’s flow.” Interestingly, all joint locks and pins are supposed to become throws at some point. They can only become throws when we observe and then exploit the timing or rhythm of the technique or attack.

Going with the flow seems all New Agey but it is really the highest form of consciousness. The Chinese call this wu wei (無為) or “inaction.” The Japanese term could be mu (無) or “nothingness.” However, it is not nothing that we are trying to achieve. The place we are all trying to get to in Aikido and in life is a place where we don’t force anything but still reap all the benefits. We can only do that if we learn to observe and go with the natural flow of things. This is why the best Aikidoist go with the flow.       

Today’s goal: Don’t force anything. Ask yourself, “How can I flow with this?”

Watch this video by Alan Watts to better understand going with the flow.

Comfortably Uncomfortable

“One must try, every day, to expand one's limits.” - Mas Oyama, Founder of Kyokyushinkai Karate

The best Aikidoists are comfortable with being uncomfortable. The absolute worst place a martial artist can be in is their kaikantai (快感帯) or “comfort zone.” The comfort zone is bad because within this place is complacency and with complacency no growth can occur. It is almost a necessity that for growth to occur, one needs to be uncomfortable. If comfort is equal to complacency, then discomfort might be the only true indicator of growth. Therefore, the more discomfort we feel, the more we know that we are going in the right direction.

It is said that the best Aikidoists can control spacing and timing. Spacing is the distance between you and your opponent. Timing is the rhythm of the attack. Understanding this, in class, students should train their range. To train one’s range is to figure out exactly how far one can move smoothly and powerfully in just one step. In swordsmanship this range is called issoku itto no ma (一足一刀の間) or “one step, one cut.” The average acceptable range in swordsmanship is approximately six feet but that may differ depending on one’s height or length. Aikido movement is weapon’s movement and so we train within the same approximate six foot range. To train one’s range, first we need to figure out exactly how far we can step comfortably forward or backward in one step using either tsugi-ashi or “sliding step” or ayumi-ashi or “stepping step.” It is easy to gauge one’s progress in an Aikido dojo because the mats are six feet by three feet. Once we know our comfortable range, we try to expand that range. Ideally, knowing how far we can step in one move enables us to control the spacing and supposedly when we can control the spacing, we can control the timing and vice versa.

When we train our range, we are forcing ourselves to be uncomfortable but by doing so we realize what we are truly capable of. When we are talking about comfort or discomfort, what we are really talking about is fear. Fear keeps us in our place and keeps us from achieving our goals or realizing our true potential. Carl Jung said, "Knowing your own darkness is the best method for dealing with the darknesses of other people.” Therefore, to truly become invincible, we must know our own darkness and fears and that can only begin when we are uncomfortable. The best Aikidoists have a growth mindset and that is why they are comfortable with being uncomfortable.

Today’s goal: Challenge yourself. Do something that, at the very least, makes you uncomfortable. Henry Ford said, “If you always do what you always did, you'll always get what you always got.”

Watch this video to better understand comfort zones.

Humanity

As the year begins, it is helpful to remember that each of us is only human. Therefore, the study of Aikido is really just the study of one’s humanity.

Why do most traditional martial arts talk about this idea of “one cut, one kill?” The reason is because of mercy. To beat someone to death or hack them to death is inhumane. The Japanese expression for this is tekinishio wo okuru (敵に塩を送る) or “to show humanity even to one's enemy.” This adage comes from the Sengoku period and the rivalry between Uesugi Kenshin and Takeda Shingen. Shingen was under siege and had his supply lines cut off and was about to be overtaken by another warlord named Hojo. Upon hearing this, Uesugi sent Takeda salt and a note that read, “Wars are to be won with swords and spears, not with rice and salt.” Understanding this, the sophisticated Aikidoist understands that the opponent who faces them might be their “enemy” but that they are also a human being. If we can see that they are a human being, then the person who confronts us requires mercy and even if we have to kill them, we do it as mercifully as possible. Therefore, a good martial artist trains themselves to end it with a single cut, strike, or throw.   

Anyone can injure another; it is quite simple and the act of balling one’s fist takes no training at all. What does require training, because it does not come second nature, are things like kindness, compassion, or forgiveness especially in the heat of the moment. The prolific swordsman Yagyu Munenori said, “To cut a man with a single blow is easy. To avoid being cut by a man is difficult.” The trap is to think that when a person attacks us, it gives us the right to brutally do away with them. We can and would be within our rights to do so. However, just because we can doesn’t mean that we should.

The art of Aikido is at a crossroads. What is going to save Aikido is not being able to demonstrate to the world that Aikido is effective. Effectiveness in any art is really up to the practitioner, not the art. What is going to save Aikido is what saves each and every one one of us: humanity. None of us exists in a vacuum. Every day we exist because of the humanity of others. Aikido is a different kind of martial art because the safety of the opponent is taken into consideration. The reason is because the “other” does not exist and thus the harm we are inflicting is really just harm to ourselves.

The dojo is no different. No one shows up good at Aikido. It is helpful to remember that each of us was a person who didn’t know anything. Therefore, this year, I would like my students to be guides not guards. A prison guard keeps people in line by barking orders. A guide figures out where a person is and helps them get to where they need to go. When someone is not with the program, the guard uses threats of violence. When someone loses their way, the guide helps them get back on the path. I don’t want my students to mindlessly bark orders at people because that is “the way we have always done it.” I want my students to look at the person, figure out where they are, and help guide them forward.

It is helpful to remember: Every person is suffering and going through their own stuff. Every person is inherently good and only doing the best that they can. Every person is also only human and human beings make mistakes. Therefore, every person deserves kindness, compassion, and forgiveness, just like you.

Aikido is applied humanity. If we see the world as bad, then every problem needs a punch in the face. If we can change our outlook, then we can see that each person needs humanity and not an ass kicking. Humanity is a choice and that is why the best train themselves in Aikido.

Today’s goal: Give kindness. You never know what someone else is going through.

Watch this short video to better understand empathy.

It Has to be You

明けましておめでとう
Akemashite Omedetou
Happy New Year!

This article was originally published in El Budoka magazine in Spanish on January 1st, 2024. Translated by Santiago Garcia Almaraz Sensei of Kodokai Dojo. Read the Spanish version.

According to Chinese astrology, 2024 will be the Year of the Wood Dragon. The Dragons in Japanese symbolism are the powerful protectors of mankind and are supposed to bring good fortune, happiness, strength, and courage.

Understanding that 2024 can be a year filled with prosperity, I suggest that students focus on themselves.

Please don’t get me wrong. I am not saying that we are supposed to think that we are “the” one or that we are #1 because that is having a self-centered focus. Arrogance is the beginnings of ego, pride, and self-centeredness which will only lead to our downfall. I am also not advocating that people be more selfish.

When I say, “focus on yourself,” I mean that we should focus on becoming the hero in our own stories. We have to become our own savior. We have to believe that no one is coming to our rescue not in a fatalistic sense but in the sense that I, alone, will be the one to fix my own problems because no one is coming to save me.

A person who becomes the hero in their own story adopts the mantra: “It has to be me.” The journey in martial arts training is hitoritabi (独り旅) or “a solitary journey.” We alone must make this journey and no one can do it for us and thus we alone have to put in the work to get good, be successful, or achieve our goals. Soto Zen monk Shunryu Suzuki said, “The most important point is to accept yourself and stand on your own two feet.” Thus, we must stand on our own two feet and become the hero in our own stories.

The Buddhist say that every person has busshou (佛性) or “Buddha nature.” Buddha nature is “the potential for all sentient beings to become a Buddha or the fact that all beings already have a pure buddha-essence within them.” Like Buddha nature, each person has jiriki (自力) or “personal power.” Many of us don’t know this power exists and it takes martial arts training to help us to realize this power and release it. The term jiriki comes from the Japanese idiom jirikikosei (自力更生) or “to improve one's way of life without relying on the help of others.” Thus, when we realize our own power, we learn to stand up on our own two feet.

When we realize that no one is coming to save us, we learn to put in the work, and we realize how to be self-reliant. Being self-reliant teaches us to have konjou (根性) or “fighting spirit.” Fighting spirit is how we develop the will to never give up no matter what the circumstance.

Here’s a story which typifies this idea of having the will to be the hero in your own story because we alone must have the will and fighting spirit to see things through to the end because no one is coming to save us but us.

During the Heian period (794 to 1185), there lived a famous Japanese warrior monk named Saito Musashibo Benkei who was more commonly known as Benkei. Benkei was born out of wedlock and joined the priesthood as a child. When Benkei was 17 years old, he stood 2 meters or 6.6 feet tall, had long hair and big teeth and so people started calling him Oniwaka (鬼若) or “demon child.” When Benkei was a young man, he traveled all over Japan studying Buddhism and engaging in duels. Benkei is often depicted carrying seven weapons on his back: a broad axe (masakari), a rake (kumade), a sickle (nagigama), a wooden mallet (hizuchi), a saw (nokogiri), an iron staff (tetsubo), and a Japanese halberd (naginata). This depiction was most likely to show his prowess as a warrior. At one point, Benkei was said to have been on a quasi-religious quest to take 1000 swords by defeating 1000 samurai warriors who he believed were unworthy. In his 1000th duel, he came upon a young samurai playing a flute and carrying a beautiful gold covered sword. Benkei thought, “This would be a great 1000th sword.” So, he challenged the much smaller man to a duel. Just before the duel, the smaller man said, “There are too many people in this shrine and people might get hurt, so we should duel on the bridge.” The terrain of the bridge however was too difficult for Benkei’s large body, and he lost handily to the much smaller samurai. That samurai ended up being the famous warrior Minamoto no Yoshitsune. Frustrated to have his streak broken, Benkei followed Yoshitsune to Kiyomizudera temple and waited for him to leave. Requesting a duel, Benkei easily lost to him for a second time. As a form of respect, Benkei knelt down and pledged his loyalty to Yoshitsune and became not only his retainer, but his friend too. Yoshitsune and his brother Yoritomo defeated the Taira clan in the Genpei War but after the war, Yoritomo became suspicious of Yoshitsune and ordered his death. Benkei was loyal to Yoshitsune and so the two fled. Yoritomo’s forces trapped Yoshitsune at the castle of Koromogawa no tate. To preserve his honor, Yoshitsune wanted to commit seppuku or “ritual suicide.” To allow Yoshitsune the time to preserve his honor, Benkei alone had to keep Yoritomo and hundreds of his retainers out of the castle. Wave after wave of soldiers tried to defeat Benkei but each one was either crushed by him or literally chopped in half. In total, Benkei killed over 300 soldiers by himself. Realizing that he could not beat Benkei in hand-to-hand combat, Yoritomo switched tactics and brought in his archers. Seeing the archers, Benkei adjusted his priest robes and stoically took a firm stance at the castle’s entrance. The archers shot volley after volley at Benkei but he never wavered. After an hour, Benkei just stood there riddled with arrows. Yoritimo ordered one of the soldiers to engage Benkei but when he got close enough, he realized that Benkei had died standing up. Benkei’s death came to be known as Benkei no Tachi Ojou (弁慶の立往生) or “the Standing Death of Benkei.” Benkei’s last stand has become the personification of a person who stands alone and typifies loyalty, courage and strength in the face of adversity.

In the end, we must learn to kogunfuntou (孤軍奮闘) or “fight alone.” Alone doesn’t mean helpless. Alone means that we must first and foremost rely upon ourselves. No one is coming to save us but us and therefore “it has to be me” that saves me. 2024 is supposed to bring good fortune, happiness, strength, and courage but the only way those things will ever come into fruition is by our own power. Go forward this year and make your way by your own power. The best martial artist has the courage to stand alone.

Letting Go

“The Art of Peace begins with you. Work on yourself and your appointed task in the Art of Peace. Everyone has a spirit that can be refined, a body that can be trained in some manner, a suitable path to follow. You are here to realize your inner divinity and manifest your innate enlightenment. Foster peace in your own life and then apply the Art to all that you encounter.” - Morihei Ueshiba

As the year comes to a close, it is helpful to remember that in training, and really in life, it is actually a process of subtraction rather than addition. We do not become strong by adding things to build ourselves up. We become truly powerful when we cultivate the skill of letting go. In Japanese, this process could be called bakyaku wo arawasu (馬脚を現す) or the process of “revealing one's true nature.” The Buddhist believe in this idea of honrai mu ichimotsu (本来無一物) or “Originally, there was nothing.” Honrai mu ichimotsu is a Zen reminder to free oneself from attachments and get back to “nothingness.” Nothingness is not apathy or being a nihilist. Nothingness and attachments are about freeing ourselves from the things that have accumulated over the years that we are desperately holding on to which are clouding our true natures. For each of us, the attachments and the natures we are revealing are different. However, what is the same is that we are all immensely more powerful and greater than we think, we just don’t realize it, yet.

When I was a student, Furuya Sensei would often admonish the students taking his ukemi by saying, “You’re too stiff.” Stiffness in an Aikido sense is when we tense our bodies out of fear or lack of training when taking ukemi. This stiffness affects how we move our bodies. A person whose body is “too stiff” cannot move with the technique which disables them from being spontaneous when being thrown. It is said that we can feel the confidence, or fear in the uke by how they grab us. Too much power or strength can cause the uke to get stiff which can be dangerous, and this overcompensation can also transmit the uke’s fear or lack of training. Therefore, the uke trains themselves to only grab strong enough to maintain the connection and give their partner the sense of a good attack.

In the process of carving the famous statue David, Michelangelo supposedly said, “Every block of stone has a statue inside it and it is the task of the sculptor to discover it.” Interestingly, in Aikido training it is essentially the same thing. It takes an entire lifetime to strip away all of our conditioning, preconceived notions, and fears and just move spontaneously without fear. Ideally, with each throw, we let go of a little something which gives us a truer picture of who we really are or reveals our true inner Davids. Miyamoto Musashi said, “Do nothing which is of no use!” Thus, in Aikido and in life, don’t build yourself up, learn to let go of those things which are of no use and learn to let go.

This is the last blog message of 2023.
Have a wonderful New Year’s and May Peace Prevail on Earth.
Sekai jinrui ga heiwadearimasu you ni (世界人類が平和でありますように).

Be a Warrior on the Inside

The best Aikidoists have to be warriors on the inside. To be a warrior on the inside is to have not only a tsuyoikokoro (強い心) or “strong mind,” but also a mind that has been tamed. Aikido training teaches us that the mind is a tool, and, like all tools, one must learn how to use it.

People love to argue back and forth about effectiveness. Whether or not a martial art is “effective” is of little consequence in the grand scheme of things. The real fight is raging inside our minds. As someone once said, “The mind is a wonderful servant, but a terrible master.” Understanding this, perhaps that is why O’Sensei believed in masakatsu agatsu (正勝吾勝) or that “the true victory is self-victory.” O’Sensei understood that it is all mental and thus the real victory is to master our minds. Our minds like to play games. Our minds will tell us something that it wants us to believe and we have to be “mentally tough” enough or seishintekini kibishii (精神的に厳しい) to not believe it. Interestingly, seishintekini kibishii literally translates to mean “to be mentally strict.”

Before class starts, the two main things students should be doing to master their minds is practicing their rolls and sitting quietly. Sitting quietly and practicing one’s rolls actually go hand in hand and both play a role in learning to become mentally tough. The repetitiveness of rolling, back and forth, can only be done smoothly when our minds are turned off. Thus, the more we do it, the better we get. Once we get good at rolling, it becomes smooth and almost rhythmic. The repetitiveness and rhythmicness of rolling without stopping help us to turn our minds off and with this, we learn to be spontaneous and just move. Sitting quietly with our eyes closed helps us to calm our minds. However, just sitting in the quietude can sometimes allow our overbearing thoughts to overtake us. Here’s where rolling and sitting go hand in hand. While we are seated with our eyes closed, our minds will naturally gravitate to the rhythmicness of someone rolling off in the distance. This allows our minds to focus on something other than our thoughts. Allowing our minds and our breathing to be overtaken by the rhythm of rolling will enable our minds to naturally calm down. With rolling or sitting, the more we do it, the faster our minds will turn off and calm down. The sequence of rolling first or sitting first doesn’t matter - students should see what works best for them. When our minds are empty and we have mentally calmed down, then we can start to build mental fortitude.

In Aikido and in life, there will always be something. We will get injured, be annoyed, or become disheartened to name just a few of life’s bullsh*t. If it is not one thing, it will be another thing and there will always be a challenge to overcome. Aikidoists realize that it is all mental and that is why the best Aikidoists have to be warriors on the inside.

Today’s goal: When life gives you lemons, realize that it is all just a mental game.

Watch this video of David Foster Wallace explaining
how “The mind is a wonderful servant, but a terrible master.”