CULTIVATING SENSEI: FORM AND SPIRIT IN THE
SPACE BETWEEN AIKIDO AND PROCESS WORK
A Final Project Submitted in Partial Fulfillment
of the Requirements for the Diploma Program
and Master’s Degree in Process Work
by
Susan J. Newton
Process Work Institute
Portland, Oregon
February, 2013
iii
Abstract
Cultivating Sensei: Form and Spirit in the Space
Between Aikido and Process Work
by
Susan J. Newton
Research focus was upon my own inner experience of growing into the role of sensei,
informed by Aikido and Process Work. Initial questions included: How did I meet these
practices? What drew me in and then deeper into them? What attracted me to those who
have been teachers for me, in both Aikido and Process Work? Research method was
heuristic, informed by intuitive inquiry and organic inquiry. Data were gathered through
my participation in seminars in Tokyo, Japan, Johannesburg and Cape Town, South
Africa, as well as experiences in MAPW residencies, conversations with senior
colleagues, and Process Work seminars in Yachats during 2009-2012. Findings
experientially corroborate personally useful complementarity of these practices. Both
centeredness and fluidity were attractions. Results indicate innerwork and processmind
exercises contribute essentially to cultivation of sensei internally and in relationship with
external others.
iv
Acknowledgements
This project was neither conceived nor completed in isolation.
My advisor, Stephen Schuitevoerder, graciously held the space for me to explore,
tenaciously held me to my edges and insisted that I walk my talk, and generously
supported my efforts to wrassle my experience into congruent verbal form.
Committee members Gary Reiss and Ayako Fujisaki were also generous with their time
and resources. Questions they posed in our conversations greatly assisted in helping me
to clarify my own thinking and ways of moving with my experience throughout MAPW
and especially during this project.
My cohort colleagues in MAPW2 have offered challenge and support, and much grist for
the mill as we’ve moved between laughter and tears, gaining seasoning in our own ways.
Being in moving relationship with colleagues in Aikido has been an essential compliment
for my internal focus and wordwork, richly informing my ways of relating with others
and myself.
My heartfelt and sincere “Thank you!” to all involved.
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Table of Contents
Abstract .............................................................................................................................. iii
Acknowledgements ............................................................................................................ iv
Chapter 1: A Beginning . . . ............................................................................................... 1
Chapter 2: Creating a Relevant Plan .................................................................................. 7
Design ..................................................................................................................... 7
Validity ................................................................................................................. 11
Ethical Considerations and Informed Consent ..................................................... 11
Limitations ............................................................................................................ 11
Delimitations ......................................................................................................... 12
Chapter 3: Myth of Meeting / Attraction ......................................................................... 13
Process Work ........................................................................................................ 13
Aikido ................................................................................................................... 14
Chapter 4: Process Mind and Being Centered ................................................................. 16
Process Mind ......................................................................................................... 16
Centering in the Field............................................................................................ 20
Chapter 5: Rank ............................................................................................................... 24
Process Work ........................................................................................................ 24
Aikido ................................................................................................................... 25
Chapter 6: Role ................................................................................................................ 29
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Process Work ........................................................................................................ 29
Reflection .............................................................................................................. 30
Aikido ................................................................................................................... 31
Personally Speaking . . . ........................................................................................ 33
Chapter 7: Cultivating Sensei / Growing Elder ............................................................... 35
Chapter 8: Working With Disturbances ........................................................................... 38
Process Work ........................................................................................................ 38
Aikido ................................................................................................................... 41
Chapter 9: Aikido and Process Work Approaches That Enrich Each Other ................... 43
Kokyu-ho .............................................................................................................. 43
Irimi-nage .............................................................................................................. 46
Randori .................................................................................................................. 49
Nagare ................................................................................................................... 53
Chapter 10: Form and Spirit in Practice .......................................................................... 55
Form and Spirit in Practice ................................................................................... 55
Cultivating Spaciousness ...................................................................................... 59
5 Rings of Movement............................................................................................ 60
Chapter 11: Coming Full Circle ....................................................................................... 63
Further Research ................................................................................................... 64
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Conclusion ............................................................................................................ 64
Passing On . . . ...................................................................................................... 66
Bibliography ..................................................................................................................... 69
1
Chapter 1: A Beginning . . .
Two practices have my focus and attention these days—Aikido and Process
Work. My sense is that they share much and serve as complements in supporting my
growth and development. What is most significant for me is my emerging sense of the
roles of sensei and Process Worker as I am shifting into what’s next for me in my own
dojo as well as Process Work practice off the mat. This is the focus of my current
research inquiry.
How did I meet these practices? What drew me in and then deeper into them?
What attracted me to those who have been teachers for me, in both Aikido and Process
Work? These questions lead into what Process Work terms the myth of my relationship
with both practices and people. What intrigues or captures one’s attention initially is
often key to what is yet to emerge in one’s awareness, though it may be on the horizon.
I first met both Process Work and Aikido when I began my doctoral work at the
Institute of Transpersonal Psychology (ITP) in 1992. Process Work was one of the
several modalities I was introduced to, under the transpersonal umbrella. It was
Mindell’s (1992) Leader as a Martial Artist that finally helped me to make some sense of
group process. I was very intrigued by the model, drawn by its emphasis upon following
process as well as honoring dreaming, rooted in Taoism, and drawing from Jungian
psychology and shamanic perspectives as well as quantum physics. It seemed as if one’s
whole being could be involved in working with oneself as well as with others, whereas in
other modalities, I felt as a therapist, I was supposed to be a talking head, attending
primarily to things that were either in consensus reality or dreams of the night. At that
2
time, I looked into the Diploma Program, and then decided that I needed to complete
what I had begun at ITP first, as pragmatically that would allow me to sit for the licensing
exams. Several years later, I reconnected with Process Work, and was delighted to
discover how it had continued to develop in the intervening time.
Aikido was totally new for me, involving unknown patterns of movement and
emphasizing the integration of breath and energy and intention. Attention to whole body
being in motion, and in relationship, and what I learned about my own patterns in
relationship were significant in drawing me deeper. Over time, as I realized how what I
practiced on the mat translated to my off the mat world, I felt drawn into deeper
immersion. Clearly, there was much more for me in the practice than met the eye.
Kato sensei (8 dan) was visiting at a nearby dojo during this time (early 1990s), as
part of his twice yearly visit to CA. He was my first sensei’s sensei, and he seemed to
function in a world that connected to the one I knew, and yet was also very, very
different. When I first was in seminar with him as a white belt (beginner), what I
remember most was the atmosphere in practice: focused, precise, and yet somehow also
relaxed. Everyone there, black belt or white, trained together, and there was a joyful
spirit present. People came up from being thrown with smiles, especially sensei’s
demonstration partner. I was very curious about this!
Several years later, when I was able to travel abroad, my first sensei formally
introduced me to Kato sensei. He spoke of me as someone who had studied sincerely
with him, had been his Teaching Assistant for many years, and who now wished to travel
to Japan and study with Kato sensei in Tokyo. What did he think? He looked at me,
3
looked at my first sensei, and back and forth three times, and then he said, “OK.” That
was in March, 1999, soon after I had received notice that I had cleared my oral exams for
licensure as psychologist in CA, and in May, I went to Tokyo. I had thought to be there 6
weeks, as I did not know if I could make the adaptation to living in a city so densely
populated, and in a very different culture where I was quite definitely a semifunctional
illiterate.
Practice was wonderful! I came to Kato sensei’s dojo with a letter of introduction
from my first sensei. Respecting and honoring this form was instrumental in my having
the support of others in the dojo as I made my adjustments to living in Tokyo. New
colleagues from practice became my friends in exploring both Aikido and the interface
between our respective cultures and worldviews, and they introduced me to places within
the city and nearby where I could find a bit of nature and brief respite from human
density. I decided that if I could find a way to support myself to stay, that I would, went
job hunting, and found one within 2 weeks. So . . . I changed my visa and stayed for a
while . . . almost exactly 10 years.
What I saw in Kato sensei early on was a way of moving that was very new, and
fascinated me. He seemed to have an astonishing breadth and depth of spirit that showed
as patience, tolerance, compassion, fierce focus and determination, fluidity in moving
between situations on the mat and seemingly in discussions that occurred around the
edges of practice, though I was not party to all of their contents due to my limitations in
language. It looked as though he had an effortless command of the movements of the
practice, and the nonmovements of holding space for whatever need be to show up.
4
There was a feeling also of being held in the process of training and practice . . . that
someone was there to watch and guide the growth and development of those who
sincerely engaged. The space of the mat was clearly his, and I felt privileged to be on it
as well, engaging as best I could in the forms and spirit of this practice. It felt a much
more expansive world than I had experienced before, inclusive and holding the potential
of engaging all levels of my being.
After 4 years of consistently showing up and practicing, I heard that I was now
considered a full member of the dojo. When life intervened and I left Tokyo 3 years ago,
I was informed that Suginami Aikikai Tokyo was my home dojo, and I was always
welcome. My return visits have indeed provided welcome continuity as I’ve navigated
my way into and through the Diploma Program, as well as in the creation of my own dojo
here in Portland, in recent years.
Over time in training, I realized that practice included what happened on the mat,
as well as what happened as we were out hiking in the mountains near Tokyo, practicing
with wooden sword and staff in a variety of natural settings, or being active in
community events. Kato sensei modeled a way of being that was very attractive to me, in
the fluidity he showed on the mat and off, moving smoothly in multiple role relationships
and between different contextual domains of rank. On the mat, it was clear who was
senior and teaching, while off the mat, he was gracious and glad to learn from others with
different expertise.
The dojo attracted many strong and creative individuals, both Japanese and
International. My work with a camera became a means of communicating both
5
aesthetically and as documentation, given that my verbal vocabulary was relatively scant.
In this visual medium, I could clearly express and share what caught my attention,
illustrate my aesthetic, and be clear about what I honored as well as how. Over time, I
was trusted in working with a camera on dojo outings, as it was known that I respected
the context I was within. When dojo colleagues had exhibitions (paintings, photographs,
drawings) or concerts, I was one of the dojo members who showed up and supported.
When I had a solo show of photographs (2007, Kodak Photo Salon, Ginza), it was with
the support of many in the dojo, and Kato sensei honored me in coming to the opening.
Breadth, depth, expanse, spaciousness, and fluidity were qualities I was initially
drawn to in Kato sensei. Over the time of living and training in Tokyo, I realized that I
was also cultivating these qualities in myself, through the practice of Aikido. I was
striving to integrate body, mind, and spirit in relationship, focusing on embodied practice,
most often in movement.
In the last 3 years I was in Tokyo, I became reacquainted with Process Work, met
first in 1992 as part of my ITP studies. I realized that it had grown considerably in its
applications and approach in the time between, and I was drawn into engagement again,
completing MACF 2 and then continuing on to Diploma 2. What initially captured my
attention was seeing and experiencing how some senior practitioners in Process Work
embodied qualities of breadth, depth, expanse and spaciousness, as well as fluidity, along
with a way of being and moving in relationship that I wanted to learn, and that I wanted
to be able to embody. Again, fluidity was attracting me, this time though, focused on
intrapersonal, interpersonal, and relationship channels in the emotional and feeling
6
domains, which had historically often been conflicted and were much less known
territory for me.
These stories are personally significant as they weave an important myth in my
life. How each of these practices has emerged, assisted my growth, and led me further in
my development is of keen and personal importance. This paper is my exploration of
these two deep practices and their value for me. As I wondered and dreamed about what
my final project might be, what came was to look at how the two practices I’m most
deeply engaged with inform me as I’m navigating in the space between them. More
specifically, how do these two practices inform and shape my ongoing training and
increasingly allow me to feel more deeply at home in myself? Also, how might this
experience guide me as I transition to a Process Work diplomate and continue my
emergence as an Aikido sensei?
7
Chapter 2: Creating a Relevant Plan
To this research, I brought background and training as a transpersonal
psychotherapist, as well as ongoing study and practice that included living in Tokyo for
10 years, working in private practice as a psychotherapist in the international community
while deepening my study of Aikido in its home country. Now in Diploma Cohort 2, I
have been deepening my engagement with Process Work, begun with my doctoral studies
at ITP in 1992. My curiosity fuels my inquiry into the space between these practices,
deeply relevant personally and professionally for me.
I discussed my experience of growing into the rank and roles of sensei and
Process Worker with seniors in my practices as I navigated the interstices between them.
This phase officially began from November 2011, although it is an area of long-standing
interest. The following months were devoted to reading, researching, and dreaming.
Related material offered itself as I participated in other Process Work events and
residencies in the next several months, as well as attending Aikido seminars and regular
training in the US, and in Tokyo when I was there.
Design
As a base for my inquiry, I drew from the heuristic research method found in the
work of Moustakas (1990), and Douglass and Moustakas (1985), as a way of working
with my own experiences. Over the next several months as I tracked my lived
experiences, I also utilized organic inquiry (Clements, 2004) to inform and shape the
overall ground and context of my research, and intuitive inquiry (Anderson, 1998) in
working with data and addressing concerns of validity.
8
Moustakas: Heuristic Inquiry. “I begin the heuristic journey with something
that has called to me from within from my life experience, something to which I have
associations and fleeting awareness but whose nature is largely unknown” (Moustakas,
1990, p. 13). Initial phases of inquiry originate in an affirmation of subjectivity,
grounding the self. Moustakas (1990) and Douglass and Moustakas (1985) suggest a
three-phase model, comprised of immersion (exploration of the question), acquisition
(data collection), and realization (synthesis). Even though the researcher may be able to
say what is being experienced, all of the constituents necessary to move the process
forward may not be known.
From this perspective, revelations of meaning for the researcher come not from
methods and procedures which have been predetermined, but rather from internal
alertness and focused attention. The hunches and insights which characterize heuristic
discovery, as well as inference and intuition, all emerge from the tacit dimension. “At the
heart of heuristics lies an emphasis on disclosing the self as a way of facilitating
disclosure from others—a response to the tacit dimension within oneself sparks a similar
call from others” (Douglass & Moustakas, 1985, p. 50).
During the realization phase of heuristic inquiry, a whole is assembled from the
fragments gathered in search of meaning and essence. Neither simply a distillation of
patterns, nor recapitulation or summary, in synthesis a new reality may be generated.
Anderson: Intuitive Inquiry. Most often, I am an intuitive thinker rather than a
logical one. The intuitive realm is specifically used by Anderson’s intuitive inquiry
9
through the use of sympathetic resonance as a validation procedure. She illustrates the
principle of sympathetic resonance in a scientific endeavor with an analogy.
If someone plucks a string on a cello on one side of a room, a string of a cello on
the opposite side will begin to vibrate, too. . . . The resonance communicates and
connects directly and immediately without intermediaries except for air and
space. The principle of sympathetic resonance introduces resonance as a
validation procedure for the researcher’s particular intuitive insights and
syntheses. (Anderson, 1998, p. 73)
In bringing consciousness to one’s intentions in the research process, greater
focus, coherence, and discipline may result. “Akin to setting up fields of morphic
resonance (Sheldrake, 1998), setting intention creates a movement in consciousness in a
particular direction” (Anderson, 1998, p. 87).
Once the data collection process is complete, “Incubation invites the creative
process to do its work while the researcher rests, relaxes, and otherwise removes her or
his focus from the research inquiry” (Anderson, 1998, p. 91). In the analysis phase, “data
analysis should accommodate the data that present themselves, rather than being
immutably established at the outset of the study” (Anderson, 1998, p. 91). There is room
for new, unanticipated data to show up and be included as
The most important feature of synthesizing data is the intuitive breakthroughs,
those illuminating moments of insight when the data begin to reveal and shape
themselves. . . . overall patterns seem to reveal themselves only after individual
participants or portions of the data have been analyzed. (Anderson, 1998, p. 92)
Clements: Organic Inquiry. How one approaches the research planned is
essential to organic inquiry. Jennifer Clements, speaker for the group of researchers who
originated this approach, states
10
Organic inquiry invites transformative change, which includes not only
information, but also a transformation that consists of both changes of mind and
changes of heart. . . .
Transformative changes of heart, which is the added focus of organic inquiry,
specifically requires a temporary suspension of that kind of thinking (critical
reflectivity and rational discourse) in order to access liminal sources and ways of
knowing, which are then ultimately cognitively integrated during analysis.
(Clements, 2004, pp. 26-27)
This was keenly essential to my current research.
Inherent in each of the approaches I drew from is deep respect for the ebb and
flow of focused attention upon the project underway. Each also underscores the
importance of being open to information from other than cognitive sources.
The organic orientation includes the assumption of the mystical tradition that
divine / human interaction is available to one who is open (Van Dusen, 1996,
1999). . . . The word liminal comes from the Latin limen or threshold. One may
learn to cross the threshold beyond ego, gather experience, and to return “so that
the deeper ground of the archetypal field can be seen, experienced, and allowed to
flower” (Hopcke, 1991, p. 118). Crossing the threshold takes the psyche to a less
structured and less familiar state, where experience may be witnessed, but not
created or controlled by ego. (Clements, 2004, p. 27)
In her view, there is a developmental aspect to such changes: “Changes of heart
transform the very nature of who we are, preparing us to be better partners to liminal /
spiritual influence” (Clements, 2004, pp. 37-38).
Integration of transformative change has been seen to show up in three ways.
One may become more self-aware; one may develop a greater facility in
connecting to the changes of heart and mind available from the liminal and
spiritual realm; and one may come to feel a greater desire to be of service in the
world—self, Spirit, and service. (Clements, 2004, p. 38)
My experience throughout this project concurs with her view.
11
Validity
Validity of results from such a qualitative method, according to Braud (1998),
“has to do with whether one’s findings or conclusions are faithful or true to what one is
studying” (p. 213). Perhaps others may gain insight into their own processes and come to
their own informed conclusions based on results of my research. Therefore, it is the
reader who ultimately determines validity of the results and whether a study is
worthwhile replicating (Braud, 1998).
In addition to resonance (Anderson, 1998), there are several other criteria that I
utilized in the process of inquiry into the validity of my research, including self-
reflexivity and transparency (Anderson & Braud, 2010). My advisor and my study
committee also provided input that informed my direction and focus.
Ethical Considerations and Informed Consent
I abided by APA guidelines for ethical consideration of participants in human
research, as well as by Process Work ethical guidelines. My research focused upon an
inquiry into my own experience, and my ethical concerns included the others in
relationship with me, in the various roles I was in. No informed consent form was
required.
Limitations
Unavoidable reactions to the research process are limitations. Given the
flexibility of the research method I utilized and that I was both investigator and
participant to the phenomenon studied, at times, it was challenging to be objective. There
was also an increased risk for researcher bias in that the process, including the analysis of
12
data, was subjective. This was appropriate as well, in that I was seeking to investigate
my own experience in the space between the two practices. I recognize, and am
comfortable with, the method’s lack of generalizability, empirical verification, and
measurability, due to the nature of the questions posed and the content of the data
gathered.
Delimitations
Delimitations are conscious and controllable decisions made by the researcher in
order to focus the study. Findings may not be relevant to anyone other than the
researcher, as I was investigating a specific topic, with my own experience as the focus.
However, readers may also learn about Process Work and Aikido, and how they relate in
my view and experience. Perhaps they may find benefit in my reflections on role and
rank, as well as the sensei and Process Worker roles, gathered through my navigating and
exploring the interstices between the two practices I am steeping in. Indeed, informed by
organic inquiry, part of the underlying intent of this project was to be of service as I
created a way to have my experience be useful.
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Chapter 3: Myth of Meeting / Attraction
Over time, I recognize similar patterns in what attracts my attention and
engagement in these two practices, as well as in those who have been my sensei. Briefly,
I offer them below.
Process Work
I understand Process Work as an awareness paradigm, one that is cultivated via
intrapersonal, interpersonal, and group interactions. It looks at signals in communication
and social dynamics, and follows the process unfolding rather than imposing a direction
from outside the system. Within a problem or challenge itself lies the seed of its
transformation. At the core of the paradigm, it is teleological, believing that there is
meaning inherent in experience. Relationships with consensus reality, dreamland, and
essence are cultivated, as each level of reality has meaning and connection with them all
is needed for one’s wholeness.
Taoism is one of the foundational roots of Process Work. With its emphasis on
following the process rather than directing or seeking to control it in a specific direction
or format, emphasis is placed upon Not Doing or Wu Wei. Generally speaking, one
paces the primary process in service of then being able to intervene in support of the
secondary process. Interventions are not focused on doing something to the other person,
or making something happen that is aberrant to the process at hand. Ultimately, it is a
transformative model, nurturing relationship with all of one’s parts, and cultivating one’s
own deep democracy. In another framing, a senior colleague spoke of Process Work as a
way and tools to turn troubles into joys.
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During my prior studies in transpersonal psychology, I first met Process Work. I
returned as I sought to bring more of my whole being into my work as a psychologist and
therapist. During my MACF studies, as I observed several of the senior faculty, I was
drawn by their fluidity in moving with challenge, conflict, and entanglement in the
relationship field, and beyond. As I had been attracted to Aikido by the fluidity of its
movements in combination with options for relationship that were new to me, so was I
drawn to Process Work for fluidity in realms wherein I felt I wanted and needed to grow.
As I am able to bring dreaming and sentient levels more intentionally into relationship
(both in a therapeutic context as well as elsewhere), and with increasing awareness, it
feels that I am able to open and shift towards moving with more of my transpersonal self,
not only bound by constraints of my small self or little u. Increasingly, I am feeling
lighter and more at ease in bringing this more spacious self into relationships with
colleagues, clients, and students.
Aikido
When I began Aikido in 1992, I heard that people began primarily for one of
several reasons, though a combination was also likely. Social aspects of a martial art as a
physical practice in a group were the most common attraction. For others, often the
physical discipline of an individualized form was the draw. The least common was using
the practice as a vehicle, a way to the self and beyond, as a transpersonal practice. Yet,
this was what drew me.
I came to Aikido with 4 years of training in western fencing, so I was familiar
with the attraction of learning a physical form, and continued in both for the next 8 years.
15
However, I found that I was first invited and then required to move out of my usual self
and its patterns in order to move with Aikido’s forms. I was introduced to ways of being
in relationship that were new to me in their focus: connect deeply with yourself first, then
engage the other; when engaging with another, stay connected and on balance with one’s
self even as one connects and relates with another (not to give up center or one’s self in
order to relate); being closer is safer; centered in oneself, one is simply not attackable (in
other framing, being one with the universe); focus on the space between as well as the
other; and to use one’s open heart to connect with that space and then move.
Simply, it became a way into the transpersonal realm that reached my heart
through embodied practice. Along the way came cultivation of fluidity in movement and
awareness, as well as embodied knowing of multiple options in conflictual situations,
interpersonally as well as intrapersonally, and in a group.
In recent months, I have had multiple opportunities to immerse in the interstices,
the space between roles I clearly had and ones I was growing and stepping into.
Attending to the ways in which I was guided by principles of the two practices I am
immersed in was of the essence in navigating this territory. Over time and reflection,
I’ve realized that they really are complementary for me, as both foster movement inwards
and then out. As an internal practice, Aikido has drawn me deeply inward, and this
movement was further enhanced by my immersion into Japanese culture while living in
Tokyo. In addition to its own form of innerwork, and especially processmind, Process
Work is bringing me out into relationship with the world again.
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Chapter 4: Process Mind and Being Centered
Concepts of processmind (Mindell, 2010) and being centered in Aikido form the
background field or ground of play for the movements of the practices. There are many
ways to access processmind, and once there, it offers a fresh perspective on the question
or situation at hand. In Aikido, being centered offers similar perspective, though it is
framed a bit differently.
Process Mind
Mindell (2010) describes the processmind as “the palpable, intelligent, organizing
‘force field’ present behind our personal and large group processes, and like other deep
quantum patterns, behind processes of the universe” (p. xi). He suggests that it can be
both an embodied experience as well as an energy or power that one radiates, perhaps
without knowing. Simply, “The processmind is the organizer of our awareness and
consciousness” (Mindell, 2010, p. 245). Further, “Your insights, creative ideas, and
spontaneity arise from that field” (Mindell, 2010, p. 29).
I’ve found being able to access processmind very helpful in times of feeling stuck,
or unsure how to handle being attacked. One way of accessing processmind involves
sensing or remembering where one’s deepest self is located in one’s body. Then, to
associate that with a favorite place on earth, and go there, feel that I become that place,
embody it fully. As that place, looking back and considering the question or situation that
I was stuck in, what would this place advise me? From the perspective of the earth, very
different ideas or insights appear than when I am my usual self.
17
For example, there was a time when I felt very much caught, stuck in a situation
that I did not know how to extricate myself from, and was very unhappy. My earthspot
was a small rocky valley in the mountains outside Tokyo that I have often hiked, and in
all seasons. This time, it was winter there, mirroring my frozen or stuck state. At the
upper end of this valley, there is a waterfall that simply appears from high up on the side
of the hill. The resulting stream rambles through the center, weaving its way across and
around many large rocks that form the main trail down the valley. This time of year,
most of the falls were solid, yet there was a small amount of water still moving, under
cover of the ice. As I looked downstream, I saw that there were other areas where the
stream could be seen in motion, more or less under an icy cover. In some places it was
open to the sky, and in others totally covered. I found myself smiling, and realized that in
my situation too, I had the option of movement, even though on the surface it appeared I
was stuck, frozen in place. Both states were true for me, frozen and flowing, and neither
was exclusive. It was not an either / or situation as it had initially felt, but rather both /
and, nested in a larger context that held multiple options.
Another way of tapping into the processmind begins from noticing what may be
bothering me, and describing its energy, motion, and image. This would be the X energy,
the one that disturbs me. To then inquire within as to what part of me is feeling
disturbed? What is its energy, movement, and image? This is the u energy. Then again,
go to a favorite earthspot. Feel myself fully there, embodied as that place, then to notice
the two energies (X and u) represented there in some form. From that place, what might
its message be, or what insights might come about my question or situation?
18
For example, the situation was one in which I was feeling attacked, but in a
“snake in the grass” kind of way, indirect and nearly invisible, yet subjectively, it also felt
vicious. This was the X energy. I drew wavy lines with arrow tips all directed at one
central point. The part of me that was upset by this (u energy) was the one that wants to
be helpful, useful, and be seen as doing a good job. Its energy was more open and
holding, with the sense of offering a helping hand, and I drew an open shallow bowl. My
earthspot this time was on the coast, where land and ocean meet, speckled with rocks
receiving varying sizes of waves. The incoming waves had a similar directed force and
the land holding the rocks was simply there . . . and both energies were simply part of a
vast and diverse field. As I was present with this felt sense of ebb and flow, realized that
in my situation, I was most likely a disturber for the other, who was disturber for me, and
that both our ways were useful, in different situations and times. Bottom line, it was
simply not as big a deal as it felt to the little u because from the perspective of a larger
system as well as processmind, the components appear differently in relationship, and it
was indeed a small part of something much more expansive, even spacious.
I’m realizing that this is the essential ground of a facilitator, coach, or consultant.
For example, in a group process, the facilitator needs to have access to their processmind
or center, as it offers spaciousness of perspective as well as a stable base to move from as
things heat up. This also holds for a counselor working with a relationship conflict, or a
facilitator or consultant working with other conflicts on a group, organization, or system
level.
19
Recent developments in Process Work focus on the space between, the field
where relationship and connection occur (Mindell, in press). From the perspective of the
processmind, one can then “facilitate the relationship between parts of systems. In other
words, you are half in the realm of dreaming while half out in reality, facilitating the flow
between experiences” (Mindell, 2010, p. 273). Being in the space between allows one to
see both sides or parts (or however many there are) without being limited to the
viewpoint or experience of any one part or side. Simply, it offers direct experience and
access to a view that is at the level of system rather than one of its components. From
this perspective, facilitation of parts flows more readily amongst them as the facilitator
may tap into the processmind’s spaciousness, and can then serve as an elder to the
situation at hand. Over time and with increased frequency of access, so I suspect may an
elder’s field grow.
At the essence level of the relationship, there is the processmind field. . . . The
relationship’s processmind field is not just a shared event but a presence living
within and around the relationship. In a way, a relationship is a nonlocal field
seeking to show itself. It holds the subtle power and metaskill to deal with the
relationship situation. (Mindell, 2010, p. 82)
Field is the ground of being and becoming, and is also the background context for
ongoing interactions and relationships. Characteristic of a field is that it exists regardless
of time, space, and physical separation (Mindell, 1992, p. 26). Also, “Fields are like
dreams: without our conscious appreciation and intervention, most of their wisdom may
not appear” (Mindell, 1992, p. 28). In the visual arts as well as in my understanding of
systems theory, there is an inherent and interactive relationship between a figure and the
ground or context that it moves upon and within. The figure / ground relationship in
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Process Work is based upon and within a field of awareness that is self-reflexive, and
seeks to know itself.
From my own experience, it has been my awareness and sense of the field that my
sensei have moved within that also attracted me. Interesting things would happen for me,
as though things were differently possible in their field than in my usual consensus
reality. There was a quality of spaciousness in their field, and in being around them,
simply, I felt well.
Centering in the Field
Field in Aikido is essentially the universe. Pragmatically, it is the space of the
mat, and more intimately, it is the space between practitioners. However, there is nothing
off the mat that is not also in the field of practice.
Often termed a nonmartial martial art, in another framing, “Aikido is an intuitive
study of human life” (Gleason, 1995, p. 23). It was created by Morihei Ueshiba, also
referred to as Osensei, from his lifetime of experience and practice in several martial arts
as well as study in Omoto-kyo, Shingon Buddhism, Taoism, and Confucianism. An
uncommon blend of martial and mystical perspectives, it resulted in a physical practice
with multileveled psychological, spiritual, and mystical components, and as an internal
martial art, focused upon one’s experience. “There is no room in Aikido practice for
conceptualization or opinion: no perfection, no right or wrong, only the reality of
experience” (Gleason, 1995, p. 39).
Practice in Aikido focuses on training in the dojo and out in the world. In another
framing, Aikido is tantra, whose basic truth is, “All that exists in the universe exists
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within one’s own body. What is here is there; what is not here is nowhere” (Stevens,
1995, p. 5).
Although Aikido emphasizes following, blending with, and then redirecting the
attack, there are others options within its sphere of practice. It is a question of timing,
among other things, whether one waits and simply moves out of the line of attack, or
assesses the situation with awareness and moves in directly with what might in other
language be termed a preemptive strike. Here is a difference between Process Work and
Aikido, wherein Aikido offers an additional option in moving with a disturber.
Yet, this is not doing something to someone, as this would be counter to
principles of the practice. Even in the case of sen-no-sen, direct engagement before the
other moves, the underlying intention is still to redirect and firmly control to neutralize
the attack so that neither person is harmed. So although it may appear that one is doing
something aggressive, the aim is to not be attacked, and in training, to bring awareness to
signals that are evident and telegraph one’s intention before one moves.
The process of centering in Aikido involves one’s whole body, attention, and
spirit. Body is relaxed, with no unnecessary tension. Knees are soft, breathing is smooth
and flows down into one’s hara or belly center. As one is relaxed and stable, well-rooted
to the ground, a sense of quiet presence may arise as one focuses upon the hara,
visualizing this as the origin of one’s power and movement. A sense of stillness may
arise as one breathes smoothly and deeply into and from the hara. Ideal is to become one
with the universe, having no openings or moments of unawareness, thus being simply not
attackable.
22
Essential Aikido practices involve centering or grounding oneself, extending
energy, intention, and attention to one’s partner, and blending in order to move both
people. Osensei offers an evocative image, in recommending that the best place to
practice is standing on the floating bridge between heaven and earth. In this way, one is
not only in one realm, rather one can connect, influence, as well as be open to the
influence of all realms . . . above and below and the space between. A sense of
detachment is inherent in this position, grounded in the space between heaven and earth.
In other language, this space could be framed as the dreaming space of the creative void.
Essential practice in Process Work involves doing one’s innerwork. This is “one
of the ways that we begin to develop the twin abilities of tolerating chaos and
metacommunicating in the midst of it” (Schuitovoerder, 2011, p. 14). In other framing,
this could be seen as a way of clearing the way to being able to center and ground in
oneself, to clear one’s internal field in order that other information can show itself and be
worked with alone and in relationship. Working on one’s own issues can also have
nonlocal effects, and impact the atmosphere one is within (individually, in relationship
with one or more, or with a system or organization).
Innerwork has been essential in bridging what’s known and familiar with what’s
emerging, as well as serving to celebrate diversity. It combines the introverted focus of
many Eastern meditation practices with awareness of information arising in multiple
channels. The focus is upon using experience in the moment as a vehicle of
communication. Channels include visual, auditory, olfactory, kinesthetic, and
proprioceptive, in addition to the blended channels of relationship and world. Once
23
aware of which channel information is arising in, then amplify and deepen to find its
message.
In other framing, innerwork is also worldwork, moving from being centered
through working with processmind, into the world. What is in common between Aikido
and Process Work is that both seek to integrate one’s experience, and they are diverse in
how they relate to the world.
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Chapter 5: Rank
The discord I often feel between external attribution of rank and role and my own
acknowledgement and acceptance of them has often fueled my innerwork. The role one
is in and its related rank are very important in both Process Work and Aikido. Here, I
look more closely at rank, and in the following chapter, at role.
Process Work
“Rank consists of the power and privileges, earned or unearned, that accompany
certain positions or states of being” (Schuitevoerder, 2011c, p. 11). There are four kinds
of rank as defined in Process Work. Two are considered external and are in relation to
societal structures: social rank and structural rank. The other two are more internal, and
relate to how one feels about one’s self: psychological rank and spiritual rank.
The social status that one receives, based on mainstream values and culture, is
reflected in one’s social rank. Some determining factors are race, religion, gender,
health, age, class, and sexual orientation. Social rank is based on societal values and
norms, and changes with circumstances.
Given by a community, structural rank goes with specific positions of power.
Hierarchies in organizations, businesses, schools, and governments reflect the range of
rank within, as the leaders, teachers, bosses and so forth have the ranking positions, and
others are to listen. This rank also changes circumstantially.
How one feels about him or her self is related to one’s psychological rank. “Our
psychological rank can be seen in our centeredness and also in our ability to be fluid and
open and expressive” (Schuitevoerder, 2011c, p. 11). Psychological rank shows as a
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sense of well-being and comfort, related to ego strength, history, and perseverance, and
surviving difficult times.
Spiritual rank “is a feeling attitude and is related to how close we feel to some
energy source bigger than ourselves. . . . there is an affirming experience somewhere in
the background that sustains us in difficult moments” (Schuitevoerder, 2011c, p. 11).
The inner experience of surviving oppression or abuse or trauma may foster spiritual rank
in otherwise oppressed or minority individuals and groups. Spiritual or transpersonal
rank comes from one’s access to something greater than ourselves, not necessarily
religion, and may be cultivated over one’s lifetime.
The ongoing challenge of rank is to be aware of one’s own ranks, and use them
skillfully. Hurt or abuse can be perpetuated if one is unconscious of how one’s own rank
is used. Although one may have high rank in one area, it is likely that it will be lower in
others.
Bringing awareness to one’s own ranks is essential to moving fluidly and
harmoniously in relationship. As my acknowledgement and acceptance of the role I’m
moving into increases, I feel encouraged and supported in cultivating fluidity of
perspective, and its concomitant structural, psychological, and spiritual ranks.
Aikido
In the world of the Aikido dojo where I trained and grew in the practice, social
rank was not as emphasized as it may be in the world off the mat. Structural rank was
definitely sought, as was psychological rank, especially in the aspects of cultivation of
centeredness and fluidity. Being open and expressive . . . well, case by case, as I was in
26
Tokyo then. This is where one’s structural rank was a definite asset, as the higher
structural rank one had, the more options one had in the practice.
One wore their structural rank, as it was evident in kyu (white belt) and dan (black
belt) ranks. Initially, they are earned through testing in the dojo and after 4 dan, are
granted by the recommendation of one’s sensei. One’s growth in the practice is
demonstrated in periodic tests in the dojo, and when I was in Tokyo, also through
participation in the yearly demonstration (embukai). What is required at each level
changes according to one’s time and experience in the practice.
Layers of rank as distinguished in Process Work may be distinguished in Aikido
as well. Experience in years is reflected in structural (kyu / dan) rank. One begins as a
white belt, and over time in training, can move through the ranks to 1st black belt,
shodan, and on. In the US, it typically takes at least 8 years to reach shodan. In Japan, it
can happen much sooner, perhaps 3 years, as the level and intensity of training is quite
different, with many very knowledgeable seniors to practice with.
Social rank in the dojo is partly a reflection of one’s outside rank and position, in
combination with where one stands in the dojo. Structural rank also shows in the changes
that occur naturally as part of the structure of practice. For example, when someone
receives shodan (1 dan) and nidan (2 dan), they are asked to take on increasing
responsibility within the larger organization. This could show up as handling various
administrative tasks, assisting with the children’s classes, and many others.
Psychological and spiritual rank, although not so explicitly named in Aikido, are
reflected in what’s considered desirable to strive for as one goes up in structural rank. To
27
shift one’s training from focus on form to attending to the underlying spirit that moves in
form has been emphasized by those who have been sensei for me, as I have moved up in
structural rank. To take the practice to heart . . . or, in other framing, to walk one’s talk,
is incumbent upon one who studies and trains in the practice. My role in Aikido shifted
dramatically when I was given 4 dan, then told it was time I teach, and I said, “Yes.”
By accepting rank from one’s sensei, one has responsibility to the lineage of
practitioners, to one’s immediate sensei, to one’s self, and to those who follow. One is
expected to be accountable, live the values, and embody the principles. However, rank
and the responsibility of being told, “It’s time you teach” do not automatically go
together. Structural rank alone is incomplete, insufficient. There are additional
components involved, and this is where the factors that determine psychological and
spiritual rank enter in. One’s breadth and depth of perspective, sought as well as
cultivated and in process, is key.
Speaking personally, all of my dan ranks came from Kato sensei, as did the
injunction to teach. He clearly saw something in me that in Process Work terms was
emerging and secondary, and has supported its ongoing unfolding. In cultivating the
emerging sensei of me, he suggested that I create my own dojo, and encouraged my
cultivation of new relationships within the broader practice community Six months ago,
around the edges of a seminar, I heard that he was very pleased with me, and that I was
going in a very good way with my training. I also heard that in his eyes, I have my next
rank, although structurally, it is a bit early to implement officially. He was pleased with
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me on seeing how I was moving in the world, using my social and psychological rank
well, as he expected of me.
I was surprised and am quietly very pleased. In Aikido, he has been my model in
the use of his rank in multiple role situations. He also modeled fluidity in how he used
his rank, embodying sensitivity through context. In the dojo, he took his rank clearly and
used it with awareness. Outside the dojo, he recognized the change and was unassuming
and humble. For example, his daughters did not know how famous he was . . . they knew
he practiced Aikido, but were unaware of his structural rank (8 dan), or that he traveled
and taught internationally, and had affiliated dojo in Holland, Indonesia, and the US.
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Chapter 6: Role
Typically, one moves in and out of many roles in any given day. Process Work
concepts of role and role theory have been instrumental in facilitating my ability to
discern what is personal to me and what is a role, and to move from one role to another,
with increasing awareness and fluidity.
Process Work
Concepts of field and rank and role in Process Work have contributed to helping
me clarify for myself what it was that disturbed or attracted me in relationship. When I
could look at a relationship tangle as being between roles rather than personalities, then I
felt less personally entangled or identified, that I had more options available, and that I
was seeing, feeling, and dreaming things from an expanded perspective.
From a more academic perspective, expectations and social norms shape,
influence, and construct one’s behavior, identity, and self.
Role theory enhances psychology by including social norms, forces, and
interaction as a way of understanding personality and behavior. Role theory also
enhances sociology by showing that the social order not only consists of and is
determined by large-scale, fixed structures and forces, but also arises through, and
is created by social interaction in daily life and experiences. (Diamond, n.d., p. 8)
Further, fields are considered to organize roles.
Fields spontaneously organize people into groups which have particular patterns
and agreements on specific values and identities. These norms, beliefs and values
are evident within the field and are constellated in different individuals and
groups within this field. In Process Work we describe these subgroup
constellations in the field as roles. (Schuitevoerder, 2000, p. 39)
A role is bigger than any one person, and has an impersonal quality. It is
connected with the larger field of awareness, and is considered a way in which the field
30
comes to know itself, through interactions of various roles as people move in and out of
them, occupying them for a time and then moving on. In other words
relationships are partly architected by the interactional field, which pulls people
into roles, and co-determines the interactions between them. The idea of roles
and fields is at the heart of the Process Work approach to multiple role
relationships, and is discussed in terms of the dreaming process, that shapes, pulls
and architects manifest reality. (Diamond, n.d., p. 8)
I am certainly in the midst of multiple role relationships, as I move through the Diploma
Program and interact with others as trainee in one context, sensei in another, while also
being therapist and coach to yet others.
Reflection
The variety of roles I seem to have access to these days fascinates me, and
especially the different settings in which I’m increasingly called upon to be sensei.
Clearly, others see something that I do not, yet, and I am immensely curious about this.
When I did innerwork on this, I realized that the sensei that others see in me is not
yet identified by me, that it is a part of my secondary process. Looking through their
eyes helps me to recognize the behaviors I am displaying and embrace this identity.
Also, to recognize that the sensei in me is emerging and work with how I can own this
more. If I do not own this part of myself, it is difficult to use it skillfully. This is why
role and rank are so interconnected and important. Without identifying with my power, I
often do not recognize the impact of how I’ve not used it well, nor can I embrace
moments when I have used it skillfully. In my innerwork, I remembered when I first met
Kato sensei and admired his form, ease, and beauty of expression. Then, I look at me
from the eyes of those who are beginning to see me as sensei. From their eyes, I imagine
31
they see something similar to what I saw with my own teachers. When I recognized this,
I reached a big edge to fully embrace that which I am perceived to be. Clearly, the
emerging of the sensei in me, identifying with these qualities and embodying them, is a
big piece of my work.
Another way to work with what others see in me that I do not identify with might
be to figure what of it is what I agree I want to embody and pick it up, step into it, and
then accept the responsibility for making it real. A senior colleague reminded me of Don
Juan advising Carlos to lie . . . and then make it real. Unexpectedly, this had clear
resonance for me.
Aikido
On the mat, roles are clear and they change as different people occupy them at
different times. The roles of the one who does the technique and the one who receives
the technique shift regularly between training partners. Learning how to perform the
movements of techniques is important training (yang). Learning how to move with and
receive the technique incoming is also crucial (yin). Yin / Yang together comprise the
great T’ai Chi. Both are necessary, and it is important to be able to flow as roles switch
in the moment. Forms and spirit of the practice are essential to develop, and fluidity in
moving with and between them is cultivated through the regular practice of moving in
and out of both roles. The aim is to have a flexible mind and spirit in a flexible body.
The role of sensei is clearly defined and is based upon demonstrated proficiency
in techniques, length of time in training, as well as the recommendation of their sensei. It
is not self-given, as one’s own eyes are incapable of the breadth and depth of perspective
32
requisite to see what is growing and developing. As a senior Process Work colleague
framed it, “My eyes can see things that you cannot. . . . Task is to hold it and awaken
you.”
Sensei literally means “one who has gone before,” similar to Process Work in that
those one aspires toward often hold qualities of one’s secondary process. Both rank and
role of sensei indicate that one is neither finished nor complete, rather just a bit further
ahead on the same path. As my sensei’s perspective is by definition different than mine,
and we are on the same path, clearly I can learn from his experience, as he learned from
his sensei. It might not fit exactly, and it is up to me to discern what is indeed useful. In
this practice, originating it did in Japan, cultural traditions are inherent within, one of
them being lineage. In this practice, each person is part of a lineage, and has a sensei,
while for some, they may hold the role of sensei for those junior. Everyone practices
together, and everyone grows and changes with time and attention to both form and spirit.
There is expertise clearly displayed by seniors in the practice, and within the
shihan / master teachers (Kato sensei also had this rank), there is a range of mastery, one
component of which is the quality and depth of presence developed over time in training.
Do they stay only with form or are they also engaged with what underlies form? This is
an important, critical juncture. One framing that was helpful for me comes from an
interview with a senior Aikido colleague, speaking about mastery in Aikido.
At some point, people have to acknowledge or make a decision to go beyond the
technical. . . . People that keep on going, there’s that point where it has to go into
another realm.
When that happens, then whatever it is you’re teaching—whether it be piano, or
tennis or martial arts or fencing, that person will be teaching it from that place,
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truly. Although, you teach the form, but not caring as much about the form as
where that’s going to lead. Form as a vehicle, yeah. So I would consider that to
be mastery. When form is truly a vehicle and the essence of the universe is what
is really being taught. (P. Hendricks in Newton, 1996, p. 128)
Personally Speaking . . .
In an interview a few years ago, Kato sensei spoke of the importance of practice,
and of one’s attitude.
Practicing Aikido is to keep believing in and searching for something. Aikido, in
the end, is belief. It is not a religion. But while you practice it, you gain strength
in that type of awareness. I believe in the founder and his words. Still now, he
lives in me. If I keep practicing Aikido with that attitude, it naturally fosters
spirituality in Aikido. If it weren’t there, it would end up only at the level of
physical strength.
I feel it is important to practice it peacefully, without fighting each other. Also, I
do not like the concept of instructing others in what to do. I am very adamant
about that (smile). For me, rather than teaching, I think practice is the place to
begin by oneself and with comradeship. Let us practice together. (Aikido Tankyu,
April / May 2005)
As the role of sensei has come to me, and I accepted, I’ve noticed shifts in my
own awareness of how I’m perceived in that role by those who come to practice with me,
and how that awareness in turn ripples out into my other roles. I’m keenly aware that as I
practice with others, I feel increasingly called upon to transmit what I’ve learned, form
and spirit, and that I need to find my own ways to do that. Kato sensei said that if the
Aikido of those who studied with him looked exactly like his, he would have failed. I
understand that transmission is not only form, but also spirit, and that it is up to me to
also follow forms for they transmit and maintain lineage in an embodied way.
On the mat or in the park with wooden sword and staff, I feel myself increasingly
visible and present, delighting in the engagement with forms of practice and
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communication of both technique and the reasons underlying, as well as seeing the shifts
in my training partners as linkage is made on a body level with the principles and perhaps
spirit of practice. When we can speak of applications from the practice setting to other
aspects of their lives, this too, feels part of my sensei role in relationship.
As I’m practicing Aikido with those who come to study with me, I respect that
I’m changing how I interact with them. Awareness of levels of relationship is useful to
untangle interactions, whether working as I (intrapersonal), you (interpersonal), or we
(couple or small group). Aikido focuses on all of them, as does Process Work. However,
Process Work framing is very helpful to identify and focus my awareness on which level
is active, thus assisting me in adjusting my relational and teaching style for different
people.
Reflecting on the role of sensei as guide, as I am moving more fluidly in my role
of sensei in the dojo, I am finding that my work with clients is also changing. I notice
that I’m not feeling as stuck in needing to know, and have increasing confidence in
moving with her or his experience and then intervening, in service of their overall
process.
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Chapter 7: Cultivating Sensei / Growing Elder
In the practices I’ve been drawn and attracted to, I’ve looked to someone senior as
a model. When I began Aikido more than 20 years ago, I sought to cultivate fluidity in
myself, so as to be able to respond to attacks from the external world (tangible,
psychological, and sociocultural), to deal with challenges and difficulties from wherever
they came, and to move through boundaries of small self. Movement spoke to me,
allowed me to connect with more than just my thoughts about something, and gave me
access to an expanded world that included thoughts, feelings, and sensations.
When I came back to Process Work 7 years ago, I was again seeking fluidity.
This time, it was to deal with challenges and difficulties that arose internally, and in
shifting relationships. I sought to move myself beyond small self, and be in relationship
with others, both.
Three years ago, I was told it was time I teach by my Japanese Aikido sensei, and
given the rank of Yondan / 4 dan. This sparked a process of ongoing inquiry into how
best to integrate the practices I have chosen to be informed by, as I cultivate fluidity of
identity. With folk seeing me as I cannot yet see myself, seems I may be on the way.
What has emerged, so far, is that I need to be open and centered and grounded, yet also
open and responsive to dreaming that draws me elsewhere from time to time..
The qualities of fluidity and spaciousness that I’ve been attracted to are also mine
in some way. As I grow into the roles new to me, and in a way, center in myself again,
I’m retrieving my projections as well. As I cultivate spaciousness, I am also cultivating
sensei in Aikido framing, or cultivating the elder in Process Work framing.
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Yet this too is a role in the field . . . “The elder manifests from the dreaming field
itself, and is a role which can be embraced by many people, but is only held for a moment
before being relinquished in the continuing journey of the group” (Schuitevoerder, 2000,
p. 93). So with transmission and lineage . . . an elder passes the role to someone else, as
he or she moves on . . . a natural process.
All of us have the possibility of following our dreams and visions for the world
and becoming elders in our small circles as well as at times in larger spheres of
influence. In order for us to develop eldership and care for others and the world
around us, we need to recognize our rank and begin to develop the skills of using
it well. (Schuitevoerder, 2000, p. 82)
From Amy Mindell (2008)
This elder can be both an ordinary person with her or his own standpoints as well
as a facilitator who can flow with and support the interactions between all sides.
She or he gives the relieving sense of “having been there before” and helps to
create a home for all. In so doing, this elder models the world that she or he is
hoping to create. (p. 223)
An elder is both a person and a role. “A role can be defined as a unit of behavior with
social meaning. . . . a role depends not just on consensual views and expectations, but
also on the momentary context and set of players present” (Diamond, n.d., p. 9).
As an elder, one has the rank of being in relationship with something larger than
one’s own identity. Self-knowledge is its foundation. In the cultivation of rank
awareness, I must also be mindful of its accompanying power, so that I can best use
myself in whatever role I may be in. Power is a process, and comes from our own
relationship to ourselves, the world, and spirit (Goodbread, 2007, p. 76).
Roles have rank, as do the people who move in and out of them. For a therapist,
working skillfully with the role projected upon her or him may be crucial to working
37
successfully with the client. Essentially, awareness of that projection or role is useful.
As one successfully cultivates the role of elder, this may in turn aid her or his results in
working with roles and their projections. That which I am attracted to or disturbed by
comes as an agent of change. Working with them is essential practice in the cultivation
of eldership. For many of us, they may come in clients and what they bring for us to
work with.
As with Aikido, the practice of eldership cultivation is lifelong. “Eldership grows
out of experience as we work on ourselves, ‘burning our wood’ so to speak, coming to
terms with our limitations, knowing ourselves, our own tendencies towards revenge, and
how we operate in the field of tensions” (Schuitevoerder, 2011b, p. 9). Further, “As
facilitators [therapists, coaches] we don’t have to agree with all sides but it’s important
that we can understand how and why that side emerges. As we develop this capacity for
compassionate awareness, we grow in eldership” (Schuitevoerder, 2009, p. 10).
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Chapter 8: Working With Disturbances
Change in systems either happens through a vision and hope of a new expression
or because of disturbances. Often they are related to each other. If we are
working with a change process it is very important to look at the change from
both perspectives, visions or attractors as well as disturbers. (Schuitevoerder,
2012, p. 2)
Process Work
Disturbers may be considered one of two major prompts of change. There are
three major approaches to working with them, directly. When something is disturbing
me, to pick up or become the state. If a disturber is upset with me, it has a message for
me. Sometimes, it is simply necessary to stand against a disturber, to say clearly,
“enough!” and stand my ground.
The seeds of transformation are within that which disturbs us, from the Process
Work view. As it is inherently a transformative paradigm, rather than evaluating on the
basis of good or bad, positive or negative, it is optimistic in the sense that there is
meaning to be found in one’s experience. Thus, a disturber comes to awaken, perhaps as
a quality that I might need more of, or a message I need to hear, or something that I need
to take a stand against.
For example, exams were very challenging for me, as I felt evaluated on things
that were not what I was working on, as per my study committee’s requests and
recommendations. I felt quite unseen, was upset and angry, and internally, I failed the
examiners and the exam process itself that was so inconsistent. Yet, taking the other side
and stepping into role of examiner was very helpful for me in order to realize that the
examiner was also feeling uncomfortable in the role (in some cases), and as I heard later,
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one actually agreed with me, and failed themselves. I was left with the question to
myself, how to bridge my style with the mainstream of Process Work culture? I realized
that I needed to work on my own internal diversity and on not selling me out while being
in relationship with the Process Work community. Later, I had a nighttime dream of
receiving feedback and feeling that I could create my next world depending on my
responses. Nothing more was tangible, other than feeling I was engaged in a way that felt
right, correct, and good for me.
At a Process Work seminar in Tokyo, in an exercise, I opted to work on my fresh
upset from that evaluation process. As I inquired what was the energy I was upset by,
and how that figure would sit and stand, the term “gatekeeper” came. As I attempted to
embody it and sat in the way I sensed such a figure being, realized it was physically and
energetically like that of Fudo-Myo, and also Manjushri, who holds the Sword of
Discriminating Wisdom. Figure said to me, “Leave no opening or opportunity for
question, be impeccable.” To the gatekeeper I was upset with, “Keep practicing, more
work to do.” Had a vision of a long lineage of those seeking awareness, enlightenment,
connection with something larger than one’s small self, and that this indeed is a blip for
me in much vaster field of practice. Later, I was reminded that “Fudo-Myo, the Buddhist
counterpart of Ame-no-Tajikara-o, is one of the patron saints of Aikido, and is a symbol
of fierce determination and unshakable presence of mind” (Stevens, 1995, p. 64).
I realized that there was a way in which I had not taken some aspects of what I
had been studying as seriously as they merited, and that yes, Process Work was also a
practice that I needed to honor and respect as such. This allowed me to make the internal
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shift I needed, and I accepted the responsibility of clearing my tasks in the next weeks.
So the disturber in the form of my state of upset clearly had a message for me, as well as
offering a dream figure to inform me that I needed to walk my talk and take to heart what
I was studying, something that I needed more of then.
In dealing with an accusation, someone had a message for me, and my task was to
find and then pick up the 2% in it that I could agree with and acknowledge was so. One
that has frequently come my way from different sources has been that I seem distant,
unavailable, or unrelated. My internal experience is different . . . and I can see that my
introverted nature bumps into the seemingly more extroverted norm in many groups I’m
in. To be an introvert in the US goes against prevailing cultural norms, as well as those
in many groups I’ve been part of. As I reflected on this, I could say that yes, I can see
that I do appear that way sometimes, and it is not my intention, simply a diversity of
expression. Thank you for bringing it to my attention, and let’s talk.
In dealing with a disturber that I needed to simply stand against, the context was a
relationship conflict with a colleague, wherein I heard, “I’ve been dreaming of ways to
kill you.” I felt myself dropping into center, and met the challenge in acknowledging that
there was a part of me that could also kill . . . though it was some behaviors and the
strong sense of competition in the other that I wished done away with, as well as in
myself. Standing for myself against the projections of another has often been essential,
and learning about centering has been an important aspect of moving with this kind of
challenge, for me. This is a way of accessing one’s processmind, or connecting with the
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essence level, where there is far less polarity and difference, both by definition and in my
experience.
Aikido
A disturber may take several forms in Aikido, most often shown and worked with
as variations of a physical grab, strike, or punch. Whereas in Process Work, the
incoming disturber is dealt with directly, in Aikido, the disturber is met with a blend and
redirected with respect and firm control so that both people are safe and cared for, rather
than countered directly. If there is a direct clash, then the energy incoming stops, and
there’s no longer a flow of energy in motion, nothing to practice Aikido with, and it
becomes a very different kind of relationship practice.
During the course of a practice session, it is customary that each person switches
roles from one doing the technique to one receiving the technique after four repetitions of
the technique being practiced. Such moving with the experience of both sides of a
technique cultivates awareness of options in an embodied way, and also serves to shift
one’s perspective in a more open, even expansive direction.
On another level, Osensei wrote that the ideal of Aikido was to become one with
the universe. From this perspective, he was simply not attackable. This has clear
relevance in working with transference, either as a Process Work therapist or as sensei. If
one can help to bring awareness to another by redirecting or returning the attacking or
projected energy back to its origin, then she or he is also serving as a good Process Work
therapist, as well as Aikidoka.
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When what is being projected is simply returned to the one projecting, without
elaboration or interpretation, both the therapist and sensei are freer to be seen and
interacted with as who they are, rather than as who someone may want them to be.
Reflective mirroring removes a layer of judgment that may otherwise creep in either way
as one supplements, imagines into, or interprets. Chances are also better that
communication may be clear and useful, as each is more likely to be in the present
moment.
The underlying feeling attitudes with which one intervenes are what Amy Mindell
(1995) has termed metaskills. The way in which an intervention is used, as well as the
beliefs and attitudes underlying its application indicate the presence of one’s metaskills.
Mindell once advised, “Follow your feeling attitude and bring it in consciously!” (as cited
in Amy Mindell, 1995, p. 171). To nurture them, Amy Mindell (1995) suggests, “To be
fluid, we also need to both let go and remain centered, to give up forms and concepts and
ride the waves of nature while maintaining a steady awareness that remains quiet in the
flow of events” (p. 157). From my Aikido practice, I have an embodied sense of what
she describes, analogous to feeling centered and in the flow.
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Chapter 9: Aikido and Process Work Approaches That Enrich Each Other
As I tap into my own embodied experience in both practices, several ways of
expressing a similar principle show up. This mapping is not exact. Rather, it offers more
of a sketch of a general sense of fit, as I see it. What follows are several basic Aikido
principles and forms, and how they relate to Process Work in practice, looking at
similarities and differences, and how they are mutually enriching. For visual images of
Osensei doing these practices, I suggest Stevens (1995), Stevens and Krenner (1999), and
Ueshiba (1991, 1993).
Kokyu-ho
This is a general term in Aikido for a breath throw. The breathing pattern is to
exhale as one centers (literally emptying one’s self), inhale as one connects and blends,
then exhale as both people are moved by the person who is the one doing the technique.
It can be done from a series of grabs, or as one is just about to be grabbed. Its rhythm
may vary, and it is often used as either warm up or closing practice, as it focuses on the
more inward experience of the one doing the technique, while also being in relationship.
In other framing, “Kokyu is the good timing between an artist and his medium of
expression, between master and disciple, between uke and nage, between oneself and the
world” (Stevens, 1995, p. 45).
Essential components are to connect with oneself (soften knees if standing, drop
weight slightly, relax any extra tension), then from there, extend and invite connection
with one’s partner. Once this blend is made, to then without pushing or pulling (no extra
muscle needed), raise the grabbed hands along the center line between the partners,
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taking partner’s balance and moving her or him in a different direction with a turn of the
hips. It is a multileveled and multifaceted practice, although it appears quite simple.
In Process Work framing, I see this as a form of innerwork, of doing one’s own
work and burning one’s own wood prior to engaging in therapeutic or facilitative work
with self or others. Timing is critical here, too. In other language, it is important to first
connect deeply with one’s self and from there, then move in relationship. It also
encourages development of a dual awareness, of self and other individually as well as the
relationship between them, and then of the space between them.
For example, I felt freshly challenged in one of my professional roles. My
experience of it was as an attack from left field, and I felt pulled off center. I realized
that I needed to respond, and from a centered place in myself. It felt like a power
process, and for me to make it useful, I needed to be centered to be in my own power to
respond. As I took the distance I needed to find some spaciousness, I was able to respond
in a centered way, rather than the reactive way that could have emerged has I not been as
aware.
From the embodied practice of kokyu-ho, I understand the difference between
feeling invited into relationship, or feeling pushed away on a visceral level. As an
embodied experience, it is concrete and tangible, not only something to think about or
feel in a more abstract way. Working on one’s center line and focusing on alignment
with self and other brings in one’s whole body being presence, which has effects upon the
field as well as directly with one’s training partner.
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While practicing kokyu-ho with a junior colleague recently, I found myself
speaking of the use of intention and attention as informing how the relationship was
going. When I can be clear and connected with myself, from that place, I have the
perspective to usefully engage with another. My sensitivity is heightened to how that
connection is made and maintained, as there is a clear difference between extension and
pushing. If it feels that I’m not being done to, rather that I’m invited into engagement,
then relationship is something I’m willing and interested to explore. On the contrary, if I
feel someone is trying to control or do something to me, I’m usually not interested in
staying in that situation. I was able to demonstrate the differences in alignment that
resulted in the differences in feeling, very clearly. So in this case, my Aikido practice
provided an embodied access for a sense of perspective larger than my small self or little
u. Speaking broadly and ideally, in working on the center line in the space between us, I
feel that I am both rooted in ground and connected with void, or in other framing, on that
floating bridge between heaven and earth.
In another context, my Aikido practice of kokyu-ho enabled me to respond to a
flirt in a way that felt quite resonant, although to my consensus reality mind, it seemed
very irrational. Walking with a senior Process Work colleague, I felt intrigued by a large
outdoor sculpture on an urban street corner. We were walking by it yet again, and this
time I stopped, paused, and felt a playful sense of, “What if . . .?” As I engaged with the
rotating marble globe nearly two meters in diameter, I used what I have learned from
Aikido to drop into my center and then move from my hips, allowing my hands to
express the energy I used to connect and then gently move this object, floating on a fine
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bead of water. I nudged it to shift, and what had been dry was now wet as it rotated
slowly, showing the outlines of different continents. It felt internally resonant, although I
did not know in the moment exactly what or how or why, and yet, as I inquired internally
with curiosity, I had the felt sense that it was important for me, that I had indeed shifted
in how I brought myself into relationship with the world, now turning on a different axis.
On later reflection, I realized that it was indeed up to me to decide how I opted to move
with roles, rank, and responsibilities increasingly coming my way.
Irimi-nage
This is a very basic entering and turning movement in Aikido. It may be a throw
in itself or simply one part of a longer technique in response to a strike or grab or punch.
In this technique, moving in close to one’s partner is important, as especially here, being
closer is safer, as well as martially more efficient. Literally, it translates as “entering
throw.”
Imagine two people standing opposite each other, face to face, within arm’s reach,
wrists of same side hand crossed at face level (e.g., both right wrists or both left wrists).
One person then moves smoothly to stand next to the other, shoulder to shoulder, and
both are now facing in the same direction, feet and bodies in the same alignment. Once
the blend is made, with both people looking in the same direction, then the person who
moved in can pivot and move both people in another direction. If both are not close and
related, center to center, then the person being attacked and responding literally cannot
see the other’s view, nor move them efficiently, nearly effortlessly.
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In Process Work framing, this quite literally is a practice of taking both sides in a
conflict. Each begins in their own view, and then things can change, as one takes a
different view, and from there, something new can emerge. The moment of blending and
connecting might be described as picking up the 2% that might be true, or of seeing that
troublesome aspect in oneself as well.
For example, from an innerwork, I realized that trusting my rational mind to
figure something out is OK, and yet is insufficient by itself. To honor what I’m feeling
as well as what I’m thinking about is necessary for balance and navigation in moving
with my own experience. From feeling embodied and being in my body, I can access this
awareness. I recall a voice from an earlier dream—“off with her head!”—and then (in
the dream) quite literally taking off my head (as my primary way of knowing). To take in
and honor “trust your hands” from a senior colleague, also felt essential. I knew that it
was necessary for me to move with heart and hands and head rather than any one alone,
cultivating their relationship, as I move in the space between Process Work and Aikido.
For example, the cohort ended a residency in agreement that we would not do
email group process to handle cohort concerns. Yet, several members structured
communication in this way, and it extended into the summer months between residencies.
There were many intense and hurt feelings all around, and I felt targeted for attempting to
adhere to what we had agreed upon. I wondered how I could bring myself into the group
in a way that felt congruent to me, as I, too, felt very hurt. Walking and talking with a
senior colleague, I found three small polished agates, spaced several yards apart on the
trail we were on. Image came of tears in solid form, and felt this was the response to my
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question of how to bring myself in: “let the tears fall.” I was able to enter the next group
process and speak of my upset and feelings, showing tears as I openly showed and spoke
of my findings. This worked well for me as I was then more able to show vulnerability in
that context. My level of trust in the Tao and synchronicity to guide me was higher than
ever before, and I felt like I was increasingly successful in tapping into more intuitive
ways of knowing to assist with my questions.
Another example . . . I was working with a colleague on a long-standing conflict
between us. The night before, a dream had suggested that I be open to moving differently
than my then current norm when we next met. An opportunity arose to work on “stuff”
and I agreed, based on the dream. Rather than getting into the details of what was wrong,
I guided us back into a time when it was not so contentious, and spoke of shared
memories, and values we do agree upon. Then I suggested the possibility that we try
moving in relationship from this sense of connection rather than from animosity and
other quite intense negative feelings, meanwhile acknowledging that the conflict between
us was not “done” though it was different in a more useful and less consumptive way. I
held out my hand in the space between us . . . and it was accepted. Atmosphere shifted
palpably between us, as well as in the cohort. In other language, I focused on the
“ground of being” (Mindell, 2010, p. 85) of our relationship, the “processmind ‘field’
beyond right and wrong” (Mindell, 2010, p. 87) rather than the problems.
Another example. . . . My Japanese Aikido sensei was visiting the West Coast on
his twice a year tour. This time, given talks I had had with him when I was in Tokyo, he
was also scheduled to come with me to the dojo where I train Saturday mornings. This
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created a rift with my American Aikido sensei. As events and conversations unfolded, I
realized that our relationship had definitely changed, and that we had grown apart. I felt
a separation, a distancing, and was sad. Later, I could see that in the distancing was a gift
. . . the gift of my independence, and emergence as one individuating in this practice.
When I could take his side, he, too, feels trapped by circumstances and decisions he’s
made, or not.
Being able to take both sides was essential in guiding how I moved with the
tangle of events and emotions that ensued. Later, doing innerwork on the relationship
conflict was instrumental in shifting my sense of stuckness, and my colleague who was
witness and picked up that role was indeed moved in the direction I sought. As I finished
that particular process, I wished, “May it have nonlocal effects!” Several weeks later, I
felt it had done so, as the atmosphere was palpably different between us when we met at
an Aikido seminar.
Randori
This is a multiple person attack in Aikido. Essential is to stay centered, and to
keep moving, entering clearly and not waiting for the others to make the first move. It
requires a system view in order to focus on the spaces between the people as this is where
one is able to and needs to move. If one focuses on another person more than
momentarily, generally they’re caught by one and then very soon by others.
In Process Work framing, I’m reminded of group process. Similarities, as a
facilitator, are in needing to be centered in oneself, to not get stuck, and to maintain a
system view, focusing on overall relationship of elements and voices involved.
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For example . . . the context was participating in a Process Work seminar and
observing how a senior facilitator dealt with an attack from a junior colleague. The
junior person had been supportive and facilitative in the process as it opened and
constellated. Yet, about midway in the process, there was a shift, and the junior person
directly challenged the senior person, redirecting the energy in the group process about
rank as a whole to more personal issues, indicating that they felt under-respected and
demanding that they be considered equal to the senior person. From the way that it came
about, it also was very evident that they were clearly different in their ranks and
awareness and it was not so. Yet the senior person was able to not only hold space for
the other process in the group that was going on behind the junior’s assumption of
importance, but to also care for the junior in that situation in a very compassionate way.
I realized I had far to go in my development in order to be able to respond to such
a situation with a comparable degree of spaciousness. This in turn sparked my awareness
of the direct utility of bringing my Aikido training into this realm in a way that I had not
considered before. I realized that in order to move from the centered and aware place
that the facilitator did, that his awareness on the system level was keen and key, as well
as having an engaged detachment, in not becoming enmeshed in the personality level of
exchange.
Afterwards, my question to him was how to cultivate the level of spaciousness
required to do as he did? He spoke of several ways of cultivating spaciousness, such as
working with processmind, finding one’s earthspot and its wisdom, and to “access the
elder within us through our growing wisdom and 100 year old selves already present”
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(Schuitevoerder, 2012, p. 9). Spending time in nature can also assist, as can dreaming
into wise mentors, consulting one’s ancestors, engaging with death as an ally, and
working with vectors.
For example, walking vectors has offered unexpected information, being an
embodied practice of accessing the unknown. In a conflict, for example, think of one
side, and notice what you feel, your gestures, and tone of voice. Keeping this experience
in focus, turn around and see what direction it feels strongest in. Take a few steps in that
direction, noticing what draws your attention as you move from point A to point B. Then
think of the other side, and notice how that feels in your body. From point B, turn around
until you find which direction the energy feels strongest, and walk that direction from
point B to point C, being aware of what images, feelings, gestures and so forth arise.
Mark point C and then return to point A and look in the direction of point C. When you
are ready, slowly walk from point A to point C, noticing what arises for you. Then, what
might be the story, message and value of this path? How might it be useful to you or to
the conflict you originally thought about?
On reflection, I also realized that for me, Aikido has assisted me to be soft and
centered in order to be receptive to the other in my learning process. Seeing the other as
part of my growth, and at same time being able to deliver messages as necessary . . . is
next.
Another example: In a recent residency . . . having come from Aikido practice
earlier that day, I felt well-rooted in myself and practice ground. When opportunity
arose, I opted to simply enter, and early on, I spoke clearly and directly in group process
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the first night, addressing several of the lingering conflicts in handling cohort business
that I was involved with. Felt it usefully diffused some tensions in the cohort
atmosphere, and it also allowed me to bring more of my parts into the group than usual.
On another level, there were many wonderful conversations after practice during
the summer around exploring the relationship of Aikido and Process Work. Some were
simply conversation to cultivate relationship amongst us, cultivating community as we
spoke of our histories and experience and dreams, in other language, creating context
through sharing stories. This was very helpful for me as a relative newcomer to this
practice group. Others focused upon similarities in Process Work and Aikido, and how
the two practices informed the worlds we each moved in, varying of course with which
people were present, and thus which practices were represented. There was an ease and
expanse that was both informative and inclusive, and I felt welcomed.
One of these two senior Aikido colleagues is self-identified as a form and
structure person, while the other is much more of a mystic, drawn by the mystery. They
have taught together for some 26 years, and respect each other very much. They say that
they arrive at the same place, just entering from different gates. One arrives at mystery
through form, and the other finds form that arises and is expressed out of the mystery.
For me, entry into Aikido was through body and movement, and then it was
linked to patterns of awareness and exploring how to move in relationship with all of my
being, with an open heart. We also spoke of what brings people into the practice, as well
as what prompts them to stay. Power and control are clearly involved and challenging
aspects, with some staying as a way to hold power, while others stay to cultivate
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relationship. I realized that this was a helpful distinction in how my own dojo situation
was playing out, as one faction wanted to control and limit access to a resource, whereas
that resource person wanted to cultivate relationships, and I was in the space between
them.
Nagare
In Aikido, nagare refers to a practice of flowing. It is also the essence of Process
Work with its focus upon the flow of experience as well as fluidity of role and identity.
Opposite of hands-on, movements are long and smooth, though the timing can vary
considerably as well. For both the one receiving and the one doing the technique, focus
is on the connection between people and with the energy that may be alive in the space
between them, rather than upon specifics of technique. It may look like a choreographed
set of interactions, yet it arises in the moment, from the blend and engagement of each
person’s intention to explore this space of relationship. Speaking personally, each
moment feels very fresh and new. My experience has often been of delightedly exploring
and moving with whatever is happening in the moment . . . and in the next . . . and so
forth. Who is leading switches often, and usually at the edge of one’s extension, as
balance is traded between partners. Although focus throughout Aikido is on the
relationship between the one receiving and the one doing technique in the space that is
between them and holds them both, in the flowing practice of nagare, the space between
is most prominent and feels quite tangible.
Having the embodied experience of moving in the space between encourages me
to shift my perspective from a focus on parts and roles to the relationship between them,
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and to the space as context in which they entangle. For me, it is access to more of a
system view, as well as an invitation to explore the view of each part and role, and
facilitating them to change and grow. In other language, being in the space between
offers a perspective from which I am aware of both form and spirit and that which forms
their context.
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Chapter 10: Form and Spirit in Practice
Form and Spirit in Practice
Ueshiba Morihei, founder of Aikido, wrote of Aikido as being the martial art of
love. He described its techniques in this way:
All Aikido techniques must be linked to universal principles. Techniques that are
not linked to higher principles will boomerang on you, and tear your body apart.
In Aikido, change is the essence of technique. There are no forms in Aikido.
Because there are no forms, Aikido is the study of the spirit. Do not get caught up
in forms; if you do, you lose all the subtle distinctions that function in the
techniques. In Aikido, spiritual discernment is first, reformation of the heart
second. A true technique is based on true thought. Use your body to manifest the
spirit in physical form. (Ueshiba, 2002, pp. 34-35)
My first sensei spoke of opening the doors of the heart in order to deeply and fully
engage in practice. From a current senior colleague, “Love has an alignment.” In other
framing, “Use your body to create forms; use your spirit to transcend forms; unify body
and spirit to activate the Art of Peace” (Ueshiba, 2002, p. 46).
As one means of doing so, Osensei succinctly described three basic forms.
The body should be triangular, the mind circular. The triangle represents the
generation of energy and is the most stable physical posture. The circle
symbolizes serenity and perfection, the source of unlimited techniques. The
square stands for solidity, the basis of applied control. (Ueshiba, 1993, p. 113)
As I thought about the place of practice in my life, I realized that it gives form and
allows for both support and challenge as it shapes how I grow and move and what I
attend to. In the drawings and paintings I once did, I created the patterns which became
the structure and shape of visual space. My various studies have shaped me similarly, I
feel. Whether drawn in by idea or image or movement or quality of being, if it becomes
the whole embodied being of me that is involved, then cocreation can occur. Increasingly
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I feel that I’m becoming my own teacher as I deepen my Process Work studies. Fencing
taught me how to learn with my body. Aikido brought in my spirit as I felt engaged
through my body and heart, and Process Work is bringing in my dreams and essence of
experience in the moment.
I feel that both Aikido and Process Work richly inform me as I move in the world
in the variety of roles I access, and will continue to inform how I move with what is yet
to unfold. Aikido has offered me a vehicle for exploration of embodied learning in
movement, and Process Work has offered me a similar vehicle for exploration in my
internal relationships and beyond in external relational configurations of varying degrees
of conflict and discovery. As Aikido encourages me to bring body, mind, and spirit
together, so does Process Work support my exploration and integration of all of my
diverse parts, as each has something valuable to offer the emerging elder, sensei, and
Process Worker of me.
To pick up what’s secondary for me, I need to be aware of and honor the flirts that
suggest change is next, whether prompted by disturber or attractor. I welcome the sense
of, “What if . . . ?” Over time, this has been (and is ongoing) a signal that something new
is stirring, and has information for me, often from a perspective or person that I’ve not
considered relevant to whatever the context at hand may be. Most often it comes with a
sense of playfulness and curiosity, and sometimes, shifts the axis of my world (as I
actually moved a very large marble globe one day). Often, it has come in the form of a
night time dream that has shifted my awareness of choices open to me (as when I
followed my dreaming to Tokyo, and then to Portland, as well as in relationship work).
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I also need to be open and curious about my experience, both what is known and
what is less known. By definition, the lesser known, less familiar, more unusual is
secondary, and an edge is the boundary between primary (known, familiar, usual) and
secondary. As I increasingly inquire into what’s new for me, and negotiate the edges I
find to exploring it, my range of options expands as what was once secondary and
unknown becomes known and welcomed as part of my diversity of being. Then,
something else emerges as what’s next, should I choose to engage with it.
Ways of engagement are also ways of cultivating the spaciousness of an elder’s
view and being: they include innerwork, walking vectors, and the essence-based practices
of finding one’s earthspot and exploring X and u energies. Recent developments in
Process Work that focus on the essence level and processmind practices resonate strongly
for me. Processmind is
The deepest part of ourselves, associated with a part of our body and the power of
an earth location. Just as the earth underlies all forms of human and natural
events in the biosphere, the processmind is the dreaming intelligence and field
that organizes all our experiences; hence it is a key dimension all facilitators need
to address. (Mindell, 2010, p. 275)
For an elder, processmind could be considered home . . . . Finding an earthspot,
working with X and u energies, and connecting with processmind have been useful for
me, as they have offered the embodied experience of shifting perspective on the situation
at hand. In turn, this has directly addressed my question of how to cultivate
spaciousness: by moving in the space between, rather than feeling stuck in either one
position or another.
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Years ago while studying various framings of what it was to be fully human, I
came upon the phrase, Master of the Options. It resonated then, and has continued to do
so since. Investigating the edges I find, asking myself if they are still useful for me
moving forward, and, if not, exploring what’s on the other side is contributing to
expanding my perspective, as well as the range of options I feel open to me, internally
and in relationship. This is one definite way Process Work is assisting me in growing
into new roles, more specifically, sensei and elder. As I become more familiar with my
inner diversity, concurrently I find myself more at ease with outer diversity in many
domains. As I experience the growth and new learning that comes from attending to my
experience, I feel drawn further into the space between.
Currently, my focus is moving with awareness into the role of sensei that has
emerged as I have transitioned in Aikido through saying “yes” to the direct injunction to
teach from my main sensei, thus accepting the responsibility that accompanies the rank
I’ve been given. I’ve been teaching in my own dojo since June of 2011, and am a visiting
instructor in another. Very soon, I complete my formal Process Work studies, and
strongly suspect that my own next practice will include teaching both Process Work and
Aikido in settings both on and off the mat.
As I consider my experience of these two practices, it feels that what I learn in
one supports the other, and often serves to illustrate how to approach something new. In
this case, what I’ve learned from the role of sensei as being literally one who has gone
before is that this is my chosen perspective as a Process Worker as well. Rank and power
accompanies the positions and roles, and my choice is to move with it fluidly rather than
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wield it rigidly. This has been the example set by those I consider my sensei, whom I
respect, and that is the teaching lineage that I am honored to be part of.
Cultivating Spaciousness
I have long been curious about the spaces between things, nearly as much
as with the things themselves. Increasingly, I find I am more drawn
toward space, to the interstices, as a place of potential, creativity,
spirituality. What happens there? How can I explore this area? (Newton,
1996, p. 1)
Exploring this area has brought my attention to the practice of shifting
perspective. It has meant moving from a stance of intimate engagement to one that
allowed me to see not only the tree directly in front of me, but also the larger forest that it
was part of, and then to be able to fluidly move between views. Being able to do so has
allowed me to access and intentionally engage in a space that was neither one nor the
other, but rather a third that formed the context that held both views, and sometimes
many more.
Considered one of the founders of transpersonal psychology, William James
wrote of the importance of will and attention, stating that “My experience is what I agree
to attend to. Only those items which I notice shape my mind—without selective interest,
experience is utter chaos” (James in Csikszentmihalyi, 1978, p. 338).
Training the use of one’s attention is a major component of both Aikido and
Process Work. Length of time in training, how one trains as well as the intent of training
clearly inform, and shape experiences available as one grows within a chosen practice.
There are developmental aspects to practice contexts and I deeply honor the place of
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practice as access to transpersonal realms, where there is space for all of one’s being,
body, mind, and spirit.
Given that change is the nature of the universe, relationships are not static.
Founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba (1993) wrote: “Our techniques employ four qualities
that reflect the nature of our world. Depending on the circumstance, you should be: hard
as a diamond, flexible as a willow, smooth-flowing like water, or as empty as space” (p.
113). In his Book of Five Rings, Miyamoto Musashi (1974) wrote of the movement
styles that accompanied the elements of ground, water, wind, fire, and void.
5 Rings of Movement
In another framing, and drawing upon the work of my seniors (Frager, 2003;
Heller, 1991, 1994), the following five sections offer an opportunity to describe,
illustrate, practice, and then share what you notice. Experiment with the experience
offered, as another way of shifting perspective as well as cultivating fluidity and
spaciousness.
Ground. Feel firmly rooted with each movement, with every step. Keep your
balance, steady and secure, stable and solid, unmovable at all times, like a rock in slow
motion. Ground requires constantly recentering, maintaining stability before, during, and
after each movement. Feel your connection with the earth underlying and powering each
movement.
Wind. Move gracefully and effortlessly, lightly, like a dancer. Float through
your movements, asking, “How can I become lighter and freer, and move more easily?”
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Keep lengthening the spine, seeking greater lightness, avoiding any unnecessary tension
and tightness.
Water. Move as if your body is liquid, engaging your whole body. Flow fluidly,
without any jerks, pauses, or stops. Your hips power each movement, enter with the
forward hip, turn by drawing back with the back hip. Your whole body flows as one unit,
smooth and unbroken.
Fire. Keep your focus forward, and do not be distracted by your partner’s attack
(verbal or physical) and pull your attention away. Your forward flowing energy is like a
swiftly flowing river. Imagine a leaf landing in that river, carried immediately and
swiftly forward, moving with no effort required by the leaf. Fire can be aggressive, and it
can also be uplifting and joyous. Fire from the belly may be related to exercising power
over another. Fire from the heart means opening the heart, feeling and expressing one’s
emotions strongly and more clearly.
Void / Mu. Seek to empty, let go of random thoughts, and be fully in the present.
This can be a richly creative state wherein new possibilities and movements may emerge.
Void is the integration of the first four rings. Aim to become grounded and stable, light
and free, smooth and flowing, energized and focused—all at the same time.
In Ground, be aware of “down,” deepening your balance and stability. Add Wind
and “up,” being able to move more gracefully and lightly. Include Water and awareness
of right and left, being able to flow around any obstacle. Add Fire and “forward,” which
focuses your energy, connects to your partner, and allows you to move powerfully and
easily. Finally, add Void and awareness of “back,” which balances a tendency to pull out
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of center with too much focus on an attack or technique. Become aware of down, up,
right, left, forward, back, and also awareness of yourself at the center of it all, to deepen
Void. Now you are present in a fully three-dimensional world.
How is all of this relevant out of the dojo or to the practice of Process Work? In
Process Work, being able to shift fluidly to different attentional states may be of the
essence in the facilitation of relationship work, intense conflict, hot (or cold) group
process, and other situations one may be involved with. Succinctly, having an embodied
sense of the different perspectives and experiences each of the elements offers may
usefully expand one’s options as facilitator, counselor, and consultant.
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Chapter 11: Coming Full Circle
My journey through Aikido has been one of growth inwards. Initially, I was
caught by the flirt of freedom of being in my body that the movements of the practice
held. There was a sense of centeredness I was attracted by, as well as the wisdom of
body centered learning. The flirt with my teacher was also with my own secondary
process. It was fueled by my desire for the emergence of qualities in myself that I did not
otherwise have access to, again, a sense of centeredness being one of them, and fluidity
being another. It continues to be an ongoing process, as I am now engaged in finding my
own inner sensei.
Process Work has helped me to work on my inner edges in relationship. Again, I
was attracted to my own inner centeredness. For me, Japan is an inner state of being in
my dreaming, and it was my re-engagement with Process Work that shifted that focus
and brought me back to the US and into Diploma 2. My journey with Process Work is
bringing me outward and increasingly into the world. I feel it is just beginning, and
certainly not done. In Aikido, it is said that at shodan, first black belt, one is a serious
beginner in knowing where to put their hands and feet in the various forms of techniques,
and can take falls safely. To me, the Diploma is like shodan: now I’m a serious beginner.
For me, eldership has a broad range . . . it is not just about being centered, but also
fluidity and flow. It has been an attractor in my inner explorations, and continues now as
I move outward in relationship. Cultivating eldership is also cultivating my transpersonal
self. As I grow into the role of sensei, and into the role of Process Worker, cultivating
64
spaciousness is an essential practice that supports my increasing compassion for self and
others.
Further Research
Tracking the developing relationship with my internal sensei will be an ongoing
process of awareness for me. Exploring the ways in which the internal focus of Aikido
and the external focus of Process Work inform me who is moving in the space between
them will, I suspect, support my growing eldership. Cultivating eldership is also
cultivating compassion, for self and other, in relationship. Bringing myself into
increasing relationship in the world will be further lived research.
Conclusion
As my external sensei is no longer in form, now it is for me to fully embody and
move with the role myself. As my Process Work practice informs me, what I have
projected onto him, over time I need to take back, as I acknowledge my own emerging
sensei. The loss of my external teacher thus draws me back to myself, or in other
framing, the locus of authority returns to me.
The felt-sense of being a lineage holder came with unexpected potency while
working with a senior colleague recently. I was asked what it was like to feel the
transmission of lineage. I closed my eyes and reflected internally. “Real . . . . . . raw . . .
. . . [long pause . . . and deep breath, then I viscerally felt a wave of energy flow down
through me, from the top of my head down to my hara, felt my shoulders drop down and
back as my chest raised and opened with a wave of centering, sensed a hint of the
atmosphere of Fudo-myo] . . . and right.” This experience and the words that came
65
surprised me very much as neither was expected, yet they continue to resonate internally.
My senior colleague spoke of feeling goose bumps watching me as I spoke . . . and
visibly, energetically shifted.
Writing usually invites me to shift my perspective on personal patterns, as I gain
more of a system view. Similarly, practices I’m engaged with offer vehicles to taste an
embodied sense of the integration of principles. Both Aikido and Process Work are
rooted in the transpersonal realm. Moving in the space between people and roles offers
embodied experience of perspective that can often be of service, arising in the creative
void. I feel that the embodied experience of Aikido practice richly supports the dreaming
process as it unfolds in the moment by moment practice of Process Work. Aikido also
contributes the broader framing of Shu / Ha / Ri (learn the form / embody the form /
transcend the form) to my practices in the space between.
Aikido is an inner practice that deepened during my time in Japan. It continues to
offer me embodied ways of exploring relationships and my inner world. Process Work is
a practice that is bringing me out into the world. It offers tools for integration and
moving with my experience and relationships.
As I continue to do my innerwork and intentionally engage with the diversity of
roles and parts within my experience as well as those yet to be discovered, facilitating
their entanglement will serve me in embracing roles next for me, as well as cultivating
eldership. Succinctly, with awareness, cultivating both sensei and elder happens in the
space between, which also holds the interplay and dance of form and spirit ongoing.
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Passing On . . .
For the first 8 of my 20 plus years in Aikido, my sensei was an American who had
studied with Osensei in Tokyo. He was the one who introduced me to Kato sensei, who
then became my main teacher during the 10 years I lived in Tokyo, and since I returned
to the US.
Unexpectedly, Kato sensei passed away 2 December 2012, soon after his return to
Tokyo from the US. It was a shock, especially as I had just been on the mat in a seminar
with him in California 2 weeks prior. I was able to attend his funeral and related events,
and was very glad I could be there to honor him and what he taught, as well as to affirm
that I continue his lineage in my practice and teaching. I was grateful for my Process
Work training as I felt able to be far more present than would have been possible in prior
times, while also feeling a “Welcome!” for the range of emotions rolling through as well
as the grieving underneath.
Apart from the deep loss and grief for my teacher, I am left with the challenge of
who now do I follow? I realize that I no longer have a formal teacher, and that the
external teacher who for the last 20 plus years has been there is no longer present. This
challenge of no external teacher pulls me deeper into myself and presses me to address
the emerging teacher within me. Whether I am ready or not, the Tao calls me to be the
teacher I have always experienced on the outside. This embracing of rank which I have
done through attractions and subtle flirts with my own teachers no longer can be done on
the outside. Embracing my sensei within me is a long-term process and one I work on
frequently. Loss of an external teacher connects one with a spiritual teacher. Owning
67
this framing makes it useful for my own growth as it is a way of finding meaning in this
process.
As it happened, at the funeral in Tokyo, I was one of the people who moved the
box his body was in to the trolley to go to the crematorium upstairs. Thus, in western
terms, I was one of the pallbearers . . . far from the Japanese norm, as a woman. Yet, it
felt totally correct and in alignment with my sense of his welcome for the diversity of
those who came to practice with him. I was close by the box as we moved upstairs in the
funeral place, and had much water in my eyes as I bid his form farewell on entry into the
flames.
After an hour, we were invited back to witness the kiln door opening and the
remaining bones on a metal sheet that was then placed on another stand. Pairs of people
using chopsticks worked together to pick up the same bones and put them into a
container. In order to be sufficiently present to focus on moving in relationship with
another in these circumstances, I needed to be with my emotions in the experience, and
also have a larger view that was open to their place in the system of what was underway.
I felt it a very intimate process, yet I also felt immensely detached, even spacious. Form
was reduced to its essence, and spirit was free, no longer constrained by or even linked to
structure.
Those who had participated in this ritual of moving the bones then shared a meal
afterward. It was an opportunity for those involved to be present with each other in their
grieving, as well as to reiterate their connections and relationships moving forward.
68
From a colleague, “keiko ga iichban ii desu” (practice is the best way to honor
and continue). The day following the funeral, six of us went to Mitake-san to visit the
shrine there and practice together, as we often had in Kato sensei’s company. I feel quite
keenly that I am in a lineage, that there is continuity and connection, and that I will do my
best to transmit what I have studied and ongoing, learn . . . the process continues. I feel
that his spirit lives with me in memory as I recall his teachings, and practice with those
who join me. Corroboration came from a junior colleague who spoke of both missing
him . . . yet also feeling that she meets him in me as we practice together. I deeply honor
my sensei, and also honor the embodiment of him in me.
69
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