Awase Winter / Spring 2011
Newsletter / Aikido Institute Davis
Aikido Institute Davis
638 Cantrill Drive, Suite B, Davis, CA 95616
530-297-1215 www.aikidodavis.com
Awase is the newsletter of the
Aikido Institute of Davis, a dojo where you
can learn the arts of Aikido and Tai Chi.
The Awase newsletter is published twice
yearly, usually in spring and fall.
Please visit our website at
AikidoDavis.com for information on
membership & class times.
To Act or Not to Act
by Hoa Newens, Sensei
In reviewing my past writings to choose a topic
for this essay I noted a seeming contradiction
that should be clarified. In writing as well as in
teaching I have always recommended that
students set training goals and constantly work
toward those goals. At other times, mostly in Tai
Chi classes, I have on several occasions advised
students to let go, be mindless (Mu-shin) or
practice non-doing (Wu-wei).
How can one strive hard for a goal and also let
go? This is the paradox that I will attempt to
explain in this essay.
The standard formula for success is: set goals,
work on them daily, check results and adjust as
necessary. Persevere in your effort and you will
achieve. This is a rational process that is easy to
understand, at least for people raised in western
society.
In a different context, there is the theory that we
should let nature take its course and refrain from
doing too much lest we interfere with the natural
order and cause more harm than good. This is
the simplified expression of the concept of Wu-
wei which lies at the core of Taoism. Lao Tsu
states that the sage ―helps the ten thousand
things find their own nature, but refrains from
action‖. Chapters 63 and 64 of the Tao Te Ching
(translated by Gia Fu Feng) explain this concept
best and are reproduced at the end of this essay.
Wu means ―not‖ and Wei means ―act‖ or ―do‖.
Wu-wei means ―not doing‖. It does not mean
doing nothing at all or being apathetic or lazy.
The true meaning can only be made clear by a
review of Taoist philosophy. The purpose of a
Taoist (a true Taoist would dismiss having any
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purposes or goals) is to live in harmony with the
Tao, which is the invisible force and wisdom
that pervades the universe.
A fundamental premise is that the Tao is
complete and total. Nothing can be added to it
since it already includes everything. No amount
of action or disturbances within it would create
any significant change since the Tao contains
self-balancing mechanisms that sustains its
whole existence in perpetuity. It appears that
there is nothing that a human being or any sub-
set of the Tao can do that would disturb the Tao.
An underlying principle of the Tao is that it
exists for the benefit of its entire constituency.
Any sub-optimization represents an imbalance
which sets in motion mechanisms that restore
order and balance. For example, an imbalance
emerges when a constituent stands out and
consciously work for its self-interest. This
constituent would use its own free will to pull
away from the general flow of the Tao and
consciously create its own concentric flow that
gather energy around it to build itself. Such
action would instantly generate within the all-
encompassing Tao a counter flow which resists
the concentration of energy and prevents the
build-up around this emerging consciousness.
In this manner, as soon as a conscious bit of the
Tao attracts energy and creates a new life, the
process of decay is set off automatically. As
soon as an opinion is voiced the opposite
opinion is born. The instant something is created
it is bound for destruction. Thus, glass is waiting
to be broken, promise is meant to be broken,
beauty is latent in the simplest thing, and joy
contains the seed of sorrow.
Therefore, the man of Tao wonders, what is the
point of striving? The moment you make a
move, you encounter the opposite move.
Especially, knowing that the Tao is taking care
of all things, why bother doing anything at all?
An answer for the man of Tao is to move
without moving or do without doing. How is that
possible?
―Doing‖ creates the opposite action only when
the ―doing‖ is allowed to cause an impact. If the
―doing‖ does not cause an impact, then there is
no counter-action. When a pebble falls into the
placid water of a pond it creates ripples on the
surface because the mass of water resists the
mass of the pebble. One way to reduce the
resistance is for the pebble to take the shape of a
long needle instead of the normal round shape.
The needle would cause fewer ripples because
its shape is aligned with the force that controls
both the needle and the water, that is, gravity.
This example is a simplistic illustration of how
alignment with an underlying force of nature
helps to reduce the impact of an action. In
general, an action that is aligned with the flow of
Tao creates the least impact.
How to align with the Tao?
If the Tao is all-encompassing and we are born
from the Tao our inborn nature is already in tune
with the Tao. What could disrupt this
attunement? When our consciousness, which
was originally at-one with the Tao, evolves and
mistakenly assumes an individual identity apart
from other creatures of the Tao, it runs the risk
of taking off on its own, separately from the
flock.
This individual consciousness will start building
its own self by making certain choices and
engaging in certain actions. As it continues to
aggrandize with the results of choices and
actions it will further differentiate from its
original nature. Hindu and Buddhist traditions
refer to this process as building Karma. As this
soul gets further away from the Tao the law of
Karma, which is the self-balancing mechanism
mentioned earlier, comes into play and ensures
that this Karma is worked out in the future
earthly existences of this soul, until it is totally
erased.
Based on this understanding, the key to align
with the Tao lies in preventing the build-up of
the soul into a separate entity. During its
existence on earth the soul inevitably passes
through various experiences. The only way to
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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prevent those experiences from impacting the
soul is to find a way to not let them stick. The
way to make the soul impervious to its
experiences is to use non-attachment.
Non-attachment is the central practice of many
religions as well as mystical traditions. For
example, in the Bhagavad-Gita, Lord Krishna
admonishes the warrior Arjuna as follows:
Be intent on action, not on the fruit of
action; avoid attraction to the fruits and
attachment to inaction!
Perform actions, firm in discipline,
relinquishing attachment; be impartial to
failure and success – this equanimity is
called discipline.
. . .
Wise men disciplined by understanding
relinquish the fruit born of action; freed
from these bonds of rebirth, they reach a
place beyond decay.
Non-attachment to the fruit of our action allows
the soul to retain its original purity and keeps it
in tune with the divine. This is also a basic
aspiration of all Christians, which is reflected in
the Lord’s Prayer: . . ―Thy will be done on earth
as it is in heaven” . . .
This is the resolution of the paradox described at
the beginning of this essay. The way to reconcile
intentional action with the contradiction of non-
doing is through the practice of non-attachment.
In this practice, one lives totally in the moment,
concentrating fully on the task at hand but caring
not about the result of one‘s action. Many will
recognize this as a Zen practice. An excellent
illustration is the practice of Kyudo, sometime
referred to as Zen archery, in which the archer
takes meticulous effort to prepare the release of
the arrow toward the target but has no concern
for the eventual impact of the arrow.
With non-attachment one discovers that action
becomes effortless yet magically effective, as if
one‘s body is infused with a superior
intelligence that guides every action. One is
indeed allowing the Tao to substitute for one‘s
self. This is Wu-wei, acting without action.
The difficulty in applying this concept comes
from our rational training. The effectiveness
imperative requires that there be a clear purpose
for every action; each action must contribute
toward a goal. The efficiency imperative posits
that resources are scarce and requires that we
choose the least costly alternative; in other
words, we should strive to get the most impact
out of each resource. To a rational person it
makes no sense to act for no specific purpose
and for no reward of some sort, even remote.
This is the limitation of rational behavior, which
is based on egocentricity and scarcity. It fails to
recognize the possibility of the existence of an
all-encompassing entity which provides
abundantly for its constituency, such as the Tao.
Applying the Wu-wei principle to our martial art
training, we should set training goals and engage
in serious training toward these goals. We take
on this activity with no reservation and with full
concentration. However, we do not hold
expectations as to the results of this training, in
terms of self-satisfaction, achievement or
recognition. We engage in this action as a gift to
the spirit.
Set goals, do your best, but then don‘t do too
much or expect anything in return; leave room
for the Tao do its work.
The above discussion concentrates only on one
aspect of Wu-wei to examine how it can be
applied to our daily activity. We have not
touched on another important and esoteric aspect
of Wu-wei which centers on the practice of
returning to the source. Wu-wei, or non-doing, is
itself a practice to return to our original state, the
state before action arises. This state is pregnant
with all potential for creation and activity.
Advanced martial artists practice meditation at
the Wu-chi point (the void or no-energy point) to
reach this state and create martial techniques at
will. Due to lack of time, instead of writing
about it, I invite the reader to peruse the
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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following excerpts from the Tao Te Ching to get
a glimpse of this practice.
Excerpts of Tao Te Ching, by Lao-Tzu
(Translation by Gia-Fu-Feng)
Chapter 63
Practice non-action.
Work without doing.
Taste the tasteless.
Magnify the small, increase the few.
Reward bitterness with care.
See simplicity in the complicated.
Achieve greatness in little things.
In the universe the difficult things are
done as if they are easy.
In the universe great acts are made up of
small deeds.
The sage does not attempt anything very
big,
And thus achieves greatness.
Easy promises make for little trust.
Taking things lightly results in great
difficulty.
Because the sage always confronts
difficulties,
He never experiences them.
Chapter 64
Peace is easily maintained;
Trouble is easily overcome before it
starts.
The brittle is easily shattered;
The small is easily scattered.
Deal with it before it happens.
Set things in order before there is
confusion.
A tree as great as a man's embrace
springs up from a small shoot;
A terrace nine stories high begins with a
pile of earth;
A journey of a thousand miles starts
under one's feet.
He who acts defeats his own purpose;
He who grasps loses.
The sage does not act, and so is not
defeated.
He does not grasp and therefore does not
lose.
People usually fail when they are on the
verge of success.
So give as much care to the end as to the
beginning;
Then there will be no failure.
Therefore the sage seeks freedom from
desire.
He does not collect precious things.
He learns not to hold on to ideas.
He brings men back to what they have
lost.
He help the ten thousand things find their
own nature,
But refrains from action.
Dojo Students at Bolinas Beach
Practicing 1000 Strikes
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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Active Peace
by Yerig Wangpo
Having been a monk for one year, I can say I've
experienced what passive, renunciative peace is
like, and it has worked for me up to a certain
degree. But since entering the dojo in May I
have experienced happiness on a new level,
being in constant interaction with others with a
new approach to peace and harmony. The focus
on being fully aware of mind and body while in
movement and in contact with others has
brought a deeper sense of fulfillment and
understanding of nonviolence for me. I've
always taken part in martial arts, but mostly with
the intention of "self-defense" in union with
spiritual practice, but the shaping of flow
between two beings as in Aikido has certainly
added a new level of awareness for my training
in finding spiritual awakening. The roundedness
and body mechanics found in Aikido has given
me a new discipline to adhere to than the active
avoidance of any worldly engagement of
monastic life, in that it feels it is actually shaping
me in feeling more grounded connected to other
beings harmoniously, and to that I am deeply
appreciative.
Aikido rap
This be my flow from learning Aikido,
should you want to know this is how I sow the
seeds of virtue
to tame the inner beast
martial philosophy, way of peace
envision a future where aggression has ceased
flow between beings at the very least
rounded and unbound
sink into the earth
grounded and unwound
A tsunami finds its birth
Toppling an antagonist
Attackers line up single file
Throwing out their fists
As the end up in a pile
Now they aren't so pissed
leaving even them with a smile
As you help to assist
each uke to the mat all the while
Yerig and Other Dojo Students at
Bolinas Gasshuku, June 2011
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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Geoffrey Performs “Musashi” Beach
Defense at Bolinas Gasshuku
Getting Help
by Martin Dubcovsky
When I am in the middle of class, focused on the
practice at hand, it is easy to forget that my
practice extends far beyond the edges of the mat.
Of course that includes doing suburi, watching
aikido videos, and reading aikido books. But
beyond that there are myriad activities that form
part of my daily practice. Everything from what
I eat, and how I sit at work, to who I spend my
time with has an effect on my practice.
Everything I do, think, and feel is part of my
practice.
If I make poor dietary choices, I feel less
energetic, and am unable to enjoy class. When I
disregard my posture throughout my workday,
the circulation in my body is negatively affected
and I may fall ill and be unable to practice for a
long time. If I surround myself with contentious
people, then I must spend energy to keep those
relationships civil and productive, and all that
effort is diverted away from aikido.
Negative actions, thoughts, and feelings lessen
my practice. But the inverse is also true. I can
arrange my daily life to improve my practice and
set up the support structures I need in order to
continue practicing aikido. It is therefore,
establishing a good support system is just as
important as coming to the dojo.
For me, the hardest aspects of this is getting the
people I care about to respect and value my
practice. This is primarily difficult because all of
the people I interact with outside of the dojo
have no background in aikido, most have no
martial arts experience, and some have never
practiced any art of any sort. To them spending
so much time on a hobby just seems silly. And
when I try to explain to them the benefits of
regular practice, I can feel that I am not reaching
them.
The good news is though that is does get better
with time. Although they may not know what
aikido is, or what it's even good for, people do
understand dedication, and they certainly
appreciate hard work. The longer I maintain my
practice, the easier it gets for people to accept
and appreciate my commitment.
Moreover, it is even easier to get the support of
people we see everyday. My girlfriend lovingly
supports my aikido addiction. It isn't just
because she knows that aikido is important to me
(she does), but because she knows that she also
derives benefit from my practice. Even though
the nightly practices cut into our brief chances to
spend time together, she would much rather be
around me when I've had a chance to train.
I hope to be practicing aikido for a very long
time, and without the tremendous support of
people like my girlfriend that just would not be
possible.
Thank you, GG!
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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Aikido
by Kori Farrell
The nature of the ocean
is not to reject the raindrop when it falls,
but to accept it fully,
without resistance,
back into the greater whole.
Kori and Brian at Bolinas Gasshuku
Catching the Wave!
by Marion Donehower
In February 2011 Bruce and I went to Hawaii to
see the Doshu. The event took place in
Honolulu, which was very exciting for me since
I had lived in Honolulu thirty years ago. At that
time I had just come from Germany to find the
perfect Tai Chi teacher. In Germany there were
mysterious stories going around about legendary
Tai Chi and Aikido teachers in Hawaii. So this
was great for me to reconnect thirty-three years
later again. It felt like closing a circle.
Seeing the Doshu was important to me in order
to see first hand how the arts of ki have
developed in the last decades. The Doshu, as the
leader of Hombu dojo, the world headquarters in
Tokyo, still represents aikido to the world. And
the lineage coming down from Osensei to his
grandson the Doshu and his great grandson
(Waka Sensei), who served as the Doshu‘s uke,
is not only very important to the tradition but to
me. How would a modern leader of aikido
compare to Osensei? Could he keep up the
tradition of aikido or water it down? Had aikido
a good representation in the world?
The answers to my questions came at the end of
the seminar, which was held in a joyous and
light Aloha mood with a lot of mature aikidoka
around. The very last days the Doshu gave a
long demonstration of aikido. He presented not
just his personal achievement but also the spirit
of aikido. I liked the way the Doshu came on the
mat. I think beginnings are very important. The
Doshu is small and slender, gray haired, and
about sixty years old. He looked like he had
never seen a gym. In a typical Japanese way, he
was understated and simple. All three hundred to
four hundred people in the audience were quiet.
It was very wonderful to have this moment of
stillness. The Doshu moved around on the large
mat and took good advantage of the space
around him. He moved with large and small
circles in a soft and very relaxed manner -- not
too fast, and savoring the movements. It was
Hombu aikido with its natural beauty. He
brought no personal achievements or agendas to
his demonstration. And there were no frills or
thrills in his aikido. I think that he brought out
the essence of aikido in an almost meditative,
calm, and happy way. Seeing him, I felt happy to
be part of aikido. His demonstration showed also
that aikido has nothing to do with healthy,
sporty, able bodies, but a lot with inner strength
and purification, which is the result of years of
diligent practice.
Before seeing the Doshu we had two days of
intense practice. I took my courage and practiced
with a lot of aikidoka whom I thought were from
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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Japan and perhaps from Hombu dojo. I was
lucky that I ended up in a little corner with a lot
of space around me so that I could move freely.
After several hours of intense training I pushed
through my exhaustion and my huffing and
puffing. Afterwards the practice became very
soft, flowing, and connecting.
Bruce and I felt so good in Honolulu that we
went a second time. This time to celebrate our
thirtieth anniversary. We hiked a lot and had
plenty of time to listen to the ocean, experience
its rhythms and moods, and observe the animals
and the surfers. The sound of waves and the
sight of fresh sparkly air was invigorating. I felt
all restored when we came home. So the next
day when we were home and went to the dojo on
Saturday, the Aloha spirit and the blue and white
waves of Hawaii were still with me. And of
course I saw a lot of aikido friends from the
dojo. This morning I felt that the aikido was a bit
more relaxed, flowing, and focused for me. I
was contemplating the blue waves and trying not
to space out. I was thinking about how
wonderful and calming it is to look at the blue
waves and sky. But then I was thinking that
aikido is even more fun than the ocean because
in aikido you are not outside the wave, you
become the wave.
Doshu
STRAIGHTEN UP
by Mark Henrickson
I am no slouch when it comes to slouching. I am
an accomplished, life-long sloucher.
Some babies are born breach. I was born slouch.
My first, toddling steps were with stooped
shoulders. I hunched my way through primary
school, sloped my way through secondary. I
attended Cal on a full-ride slouching
scholarship. Afterward, I considered turning
pro; choosing instead, though, to retain my
amateur status. I hold world records in several
categories. My many awards droop upon my
mantle. It is universally assumed that I will
enter the slouching hall of fame in Withering
Heights, Sagskatchewan, on the first ballot in
my first year of eligibility.
I sit slouched, stand stooped, eat bent, drink
drooped, read reclined, jog sloped, watch lolled,
drive slumped. I have always figured I would
slouch right on into my grave.
Then I began Aikido. After one year of training,
I find that I might have to convert to the Church
of Slouch, Reformed.
The point of Aikido, it seems to my beginner
eyes, is to maintain one‘s own balance while
upsetting that of your opponent. Since an erect
posture is key to maintaining balance, one must
stay erect throughout an entire Aikido move.
One must have an erect carriage when receiving
uke, maintain said carriage when redirecting
uke, and preserve it still when throwing or
pinning uke. But how can I possibly maintain
good posture for an entire Aikido move if I
never have good posture at any other time in my
life?
Do I really think I‘m gonna slouch on in to the
dojo, slump on in to my gi, loll through warm-
ups and then stand stock straight during a
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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technique before slumping back down upon the
line to receive instruction before magically
snapping to another straight backed execution of
irimi nage? It‘s not gonna happen.
If I‘m going to perform anything even slightly
resembling Aikido, then I am going to have to
straighten up. So I made myself a mental note to
improve my posture. At first, I would notice a
few times a day that I was slouching, and I
would do my best to straighten up. Then I began
catching myself a dozen times a day, then two
dozen. Yesterday, I caught myself in poor
posture at least fifty times. The increase in
catching myself out is not due to worsening
posture, but to increased awareness. I am
remembering more and more.
I still haven‘t figured out how to do certain
things. How do I wash my hands at a low sink?
How do I reach the steering wheel while holding
my shoulders back? How do I reach down and
pick up a scrap of paper off my classroom floor?
Do I bend my legs? Do I bend at the waist? Or
do I just slouch on over and pick the thing up for
crying out loud?
I haven‘t worked everything out yet, but I think
my posture is improving. I am hoping that this
improvement translates to better Aikido. But
even if it doesn‘t, even if I quit Aikido due to
injury, or apathy, or busyness, I am hoping that
my improved posture remains. Perhaps I can
live a happier healthier life--maybe even delay
my entry into the hall of fame by a few years.
I need some help. After 46 years of perfecting
my slouch, I‘m going to need years of practice to
change my ingrained habit. So if you see me
slumping around the dojo, please remind me to
straighten up. Tell me to ―put my head on
straight‖ or to ―wear the crown of life‖, as Bruce
Sempei is fond of preaching. And if you have
any advice for that steering wheel or scrap of
paper on my classroom floor, I‘m all ears.
On the Mat at Bolinas
Curiosity: Peace and Blending
by Kori Farrell
When I first began to work with a jo in partner
practice, I blocked with abandon. My partner
would tsuki, and I would whack his jo off to the
side, thinking only, “He is going to strike at me
and I have to block!” To me, a strike was a
strike and a block was a block—they both
happened quickly and with force, ended with a
loud smacking sound, and made me want to
close my eyes and brace for impact.
As I have continued to practice, I‘ve discovered
something that has changed the way I experience
conflict:
Curiosity.
Curiosity made me want to keep my eyes open. I
began to notice that other people training around
me could parry a strike with just a small
movement. They could stand tall and move
quickly, their shoulders relaxed and their eyes
clear and focused. How did they do it? I wanted
to know. And further more, I wanted to discover
how to do the same.
Curiosity allows us to be present. We want an
answer, so we look around, expand our
awareness, focus our thoughts, and engage in
our experience. Curiosity allows us to be open. It
allows us to surrender ego for the sake of
discovering what is. If I realize, for example,
that a strike is not a uniform action that can be
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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responded to the same way each time it happens,
then I become interested in each individual
attack. Instead of noticing, my partner is now
striking, I ask, exactly how is she striking this
time? In order to answer my question, I must pay
very close attention. I must follow the strike as it
occurs and take note of its unique character.
As a result of this process, I am able to respond
based not on what my idea of a strike is, but on
the reality of a particular moment and its unique
circumstances. If we are here, interested,
following, feeling, then we are already
blending… the next step is uniting our bodies
with that focus, and positioning ourselves
accordingly (―Okay, so how do we do that?”
might be the next question).
***
Last month I joined many of you in Bolinas for
the Gasshuku at Geoff‘s home. On the morning
of the final day we rose early, began class with
standing meditation, and then walked together
with our weapons down to the beach. There we
stood in a circle and counted off one thousand
bokken strikes. Later, after breakfast and before
the next class, I went and sat for a bit by myself.
I thought about the day before, hours of training
in the sun, trying to understand with my body
how the Aikido I am practicing at the dojo in
Santa Cruz and the Aikido I practice with you in
Davis are the same. I thought of the morning so
far, of the people I had trained with, of the day
ahead. I felt my breathing slow and everything
settle towards the ground. All of a sudden, and
quite unexpectedly, I realized the answer to a
question I have been asking myself over and
over for the last two years.
―Why am I practicing Aikido?‖
Ultimately the answer comes back to curiosity. I
realized in that moment that I am practicing
Aikido because it is helping me answer one of
the driving questions in my life: peace. What is
peace?
When I ask, “what is peace?” I find an answer
in training.
It is peace I find on the mat during focused
practice with other people. It is peace I find in
the physical and energetic lines of the techniques
that we practice. It is peace I find in my life as I
continue to work with myself, to listen, to accept
myself, to push myself. It is peace I find in my
body as I work over and over to understand
something kinesthetically as well as
intellectually. And it is quiet peace, through
strength, clarity, and compassion, that I see in
those teachers and students who have dedicated
their lives to Aikido.
When I realized this, I saw that the fear, self-
consciousness, embarrassment, and ego that
often rise and cloud my head while training can
be let go! If I know what I am here to ultimately
understand, and if it is more important to me to
learn than to be ―right‖, then I need not waste
energy feeling frustrated, proud, or ashamed.
***
I am certain that the more questions we ask, the
more open we will be to receive insights when
they come. And an important thing to realize is
that we are all capable of asking questions, we
are all capable of seeking answers, and we each
have it in us somewhere to accept our innate
capacity for growth and learning.
Aikidoka at Bolinas
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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Tom and Joe, Bolinas
OUCH !
Injuries in Aikido, Part 2
by Bruce Donehower
In April 2007 I wrote an article for the Awase
entitled ―Injuries in Aikido.‖ I remember
thinking at the time that I wrote it: ―I want to say
something that will be helpful to folks on the
mat who want to avoid or heal injuries (external
and internal) during practice.‖ I naively thought:
if they read my little article, maybe they won‘t
get injured.
Four years later as I got ready to put together
this newsletter, I was browsing my old files and
I saw this article from 2007. I started thinking
about the subject again and I realized that
recently and in the past I have known a whole lot
of people who have been injured doing aikido,
some of those injuries minor, some of them
middling, and some of them life-altering and
dramatic, requiring EMTs, etc. Then I began to
reflect on my own current and past status and I
realized: ―Omigod! During the years I‘ve been
doing aikido I‘ve had aches and pains of one sort
or another and injuries of varying degrees of
bothersomeness almost all the time –
constantly!‖ In fact, over the years I‘ve gotten to
the point of recognizing that just when I have the
feeling: ―Ah, this feels good! I think all the
cylinders are firing!‖ – these moments generally
proceed some new episode of aches and pains.
Basically, I‘m in a constant process of recovery
from aikido practice all the time.
Is this discouraging? Well, it hasn‘t been, really
– strange to say. One might think that if I stood
back and thought objectively like an adult about
this process I would say to myself: ―gee, this is
goofy. Why do I persist in an activity that makes
me feel sore and sometimes hobbles me up for
extended periods? Is this age-appropriate?‖
Every aikidoka has to come to his or her own
answer to this question. For me, aikido
movement satisfies an innate craving of my
physical/spiritual nature in a way that almost NO
other activity (sailing, running, Tai Chi, hiking
… finish the list yourself, and be creative!) does
in quite the same way. I‘m not sure why, but
that‘s my situation. Osensei theorized that the
aikido movements are in harmony with the
archetypal spiritual energies of the universe – so
maybe that‘s the reason, I don‘t know. However,
when I teach a beginner course I sometimes like
to ask the students: why are you doing this
instead of snow boarding, playing golf, or some
other physical activity that you enjoy and get a
high from? If they say, quite understandably:
because we like it; then I say: Why? I never
want to hear an answer beyond this point
(actually I am afraid someone will start talking
about self-defense or physical fitness, and quite
frankly I don‘t want to go there) – however, I
DO want to make sure they think about why
they are investing time and energy into aikido so
that when the obstacles and hard times and
injuries and bruised egos show up they have
something spiritual in reserve to call upon.
Because, my friends, the injuries do surely show
up -- even if you‘re the most careful uke in the
business.
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
12
In closing, here is a quote from Wendy Palmer
Sensei that I found very very helpful when I had
a knee injury that lasted eighteen months and
hobbled me up incessantly and caused me
endless Hamlet-like monologues of ―To Be or
Not To Be.‖ I hope Sensei Palmer doesn‘t mind
me sharing it with you.
―The first time I injured my knee, I tore
some cartilage and ligaments but not
terribly badly. I used every waking
moment and many methods to heal my
knee – bodywork, visualizations, salves,
and massage. I was obsessed in my
efforts because my favorite teacher was
arriving to teach a seminar in two weeks
and I was quite fixated on training during
that seminar. My knee improved swiftly
although it was far from healed when my
teacher arrived. My ego attachment to
training and having him throw me
overrode my sensibility. While training
with my teacher during the seminar, I re-
injured my knee. This second time, my
knee was injured very badly. This injury
stopped me.
―In retrospect I can see that the Universe
had been tapping me gently, saying:
―slow down.‖. . . My desire for approval
and control was a seductive enticement
to train during the seminar even with a
severely injured knee. By training I
thought I would be ―better,‖ I would be
approved of, and then I would be in
control. Ah, the mind obsessed with
desire and attachment is a worthy
opponent indeed! The second injury was
a message so loud and strong I had to
hear it: ―Stop! Stop doing! Stop even
trying to heal yourself! Stop efforting
altogether! Just be. Be here. Be injured.
Be open. And be vulnerable.
―My ego was aghast. Fear flared. My
identity felt shaky. If I am not able to roll
and fall, spin and jump around, then who
am I?‖
That‘s all the quote I am going to share in this
brief article, but I recommend that you check out
the rest of what Sensei Palmer said in her most
excellent book The Intuitive Body on pages 131
and forward. It‘s a good read! (I think there‘s a
copy in the library.)
Oh, and by the way… apropos the dojo library…
if you have overdue library books, BRING
THEM BACK (if you‘re done with them)!
Group Photo at Tahoe Gasshuku
Musings
by Fourteen Aikido Students on 28th of
May, 2011 (Gasshuku)
In a cabin at Tahoe, California
When I enter AID I feel the energy from Sensei
and from my fellow students and Sempai.
Striking wood by sharp point strung through
watching wish, a clear wrought view.
My soul wanders, never lost, on the path we
made together.
Aikido has inspired me to train as much as
possible.
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
13
AID has been a life changing part of my life and
my commute.
We enter the Dojo one by one and come together
in a single family, sharing a single language,
forming a sacred space that brings the whole
universe into harmony.
Dojo. Place of enlightenment. Where love,
laughter, toil and friendship join under the
guidance of a compassionate teacher.
One person, through a life of dedication and
inquiry inspires so many each day.
In the middle of crisis, you grab me and I‘m
home.
The art of peace brings me joy and strength.
The spring breeze blows through the Dojo. What
a gift this school is – a kind teacher, so many
good people.
I cannot verbalize what it means for me. Aikido
and the Dojo. You are moving, you are part of a
big stream. You will realize what it means for
you when connection would be lost. Don‘t try to
reflect, be connected.
As fishes swimming / in the deep, so in practice
/ are we in Aiki.
The Dojo relaxes my mind, rejuvenates my body
and inspires my spirit.
Tahoe Cabin Photos
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
14
Self-Criticism: The Teacher Within
by Kori Farrell
I am a very accomplished and insistent self-
critic. I‘m sure most of us are. However, I have
begun to realize that criticism in general is so
often paired with an expression of disapproval
that we forget how utterly important it can be to
the learning process. Because we learn to
associate criticism with judgment, it is easy to
perceive criticism as judgment. Because
judgment is so emotionally charged, we may get
caught up in it and forget the value of what the
critic has to say--this is true of both outside
criticisms and those that arise within our own
heads.
Often when we try to do something new
(especially if it is something we want to do
well), we will make an attempt and then
immediately feel, “wow, that really sucked” or,
“no, that wasn’t right.” (Both meaning, “that
attempt did not mirror my goal. Therefore, it
was bad.‖) If the conversation ends there, then
we can easily feel failure. We can get stuck.
When we try again and still don‘t ‗get it right‘,
our beliefs in our inadequacy intensify. When
this happens, it is because we are busy judging
ourselves, in labeling right and wrong and the
consequences of each. But what about that new
thing we were trying to learn?
When asked, ―what happened? Why didn’t that
attempt mirror my goal?” our critical mind
usually has an answer: “My shoulders tensed up.
I lost my balance. I went right instead of left. I
didn’t keep both hands on the jo. I didn’t move
off the line. I used too much force. My arms
weren’t connected to my hips. I was thinking too
hard. I wasn’t focused enough… etc.”
Ok, so it is easy to identify these things as faults-
-ways in which we have failed. But what if
instead of reprimanding ourselves for not
―getting it right‖, we take a step back and realize
how clever we are? Because by noticing the
ways in which we are not measuring up to our
own standards, we are in fact identifying the
refinements that need to be made in order for us
to embody them. In this light, self-criticism
becomes an immensely valuable tool!
***
This July, Mary Heiny Sensei taught at the
Aikido of Santa Cruz summer retreat. During
one of her classes, she gave these instructions:
“I want you each to think about a problem you
encountered as nage during the last technique.
What was difficult for you? Were there any
sticking points? Tell your partner what you
noticed… Ok. Now, do the technique again, and
make the problem disappear.”
Everyone in the class chuckled at how
delightfully simple she made it sound. And yet,
the exercise that followed was incredibly
profound.
Most of the time, it is easy to identify our
problems--we are very practiced at this. But then
we get stuck, as if the problems are a heavy rock
we are forced to carry. When Mary Heiny told
us to ―make the problem disappear,‖ it was as if
she was saying, “oh, so you are carrying that
heavy rock and you need to put it down in order
to move? Well then, put it down.”
If it is this simple, then why don‘t we simply
make the changes we need to make whenever we
see them? And also, why do we judge ourselves
each time we try and don‘t quite get there?
Somehow there is a resistance to making the
changes we identify as necessary in moving
toward our goals. Maybe it is a fear of failure.
Or perhaps, instead, it is a fear of success—a
fear of embracing our own growth,
expansiveness, and ability. A fear of actually
getting where we want to go. We know what it is
like to be where we are. Perhaps it seems safer
to be stuck, to keep our goals at a distance and
effectively thwart our own attempts to reach
them.
If we put down the heavy rock, what could we
complain about? Besides, we know how to carry
that rock… what if we don‘t know how not to
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
15
carry it? Better, surely, to make excuses to keep
holding on.
This is where judgment comes into play.
Judgment doesn‘t just make us feel bad. Often, it
actually provides us with an excuse to stay
exactly where we are. When judgment
accompanies our self criticisms, it helps
convince us: that we are incapable/inadequate,
that the change we want is too difficult to make,
that we must struggle excessively before we can
achieve the change, that perhaps we are wrong
and the change should not be pursued, that
because we are not already enlightened we will
never be… the list goes on). Judgment distracts
us from what ultimately we know is necessary:
fulfilling the next level of our potential.
***
“You will never learn to do any endeavor
properly unless you are willing to give yourself
time. I think you are accustomed to having
everything come easily to you, but this is not the
way of life or the martial arts.” --Bong Soo Han
It is true that most changes, whether we resist
them or not, take time and practice to
accomplish. In Mary Heiny‘s class, she
eventually progressed to having each person do
the technique eight times in a row. “Keep
refining yourself until the problem is solved.
Each time, make it smoother.” Move, Compare,
critique, change. Move, compare, critique,
change. Over and over and over again. With
persistence and awareness comes progress that
the critical mind can see.
Dissolving resistance and judgment makes the
process easier, just like putting down that heavy
stone makes it easier to move. It is important to
see that letting go of these things is itself a
change that requires willingness and practice. If
we can identify those moments of resistance and
judgment, we can practice letting them go. We
can also practice identifying and dissolving any
patterns of self-deprecation that cling to the
voice of self-criticism, and begin to listen to the
teacher inside us.
Rob and Guy at Tahoe Gasshuku
Toby at Tahoe
Tahoe Demonstration
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
16
Chef Guy Performs Kitchen Waza
Tahoe Gasshuku
Mealtime!
Eugene at Tahoe
Aiki-Jo Seminar at Central Park
by Martin Dubcovsky
On the slightly overcast Saturday morning of
April the 23rd, 2011, we gathered at Central
Park in anticipation of full day's workshop. The
seminar, which ran from 9am to 4pm, was
scheduled to cover the core of the Aiki-Jo
curriculum: jo suburi, jo kata, jo awase, and
kumi-jo.
To get started on the right track we spent the
first half of the morning going over the twenty jo
suburi. The suburi are the most important
practice. A solid foundation of suburi helps to
make the rest of the jo curriculum much easier to
follow, and more enjoyable to practice. Without
a good base of suburi, the more dynamic jo
practices loose their substance, and become
empty practices.
After a quick break we moved on from the
suburi, to work on the 31 jo kata. As sensei
pointed out, we must not shelve the kata just as
soon as we learn the form. Much like with
suburi, the kata require constant drilling. The
kata add context to the suburi and are a way to
practice the transitions between techniques.
Before breaking for lunch we covered the jo
awase, the most basic partner practices. The
awase are brief exchanges which express the
quintessential aspects of partnered practice. In
truth there is hardly anything basic at all about
the awase. Suddenly there is so much more to
worry about: timing, distance, alignment!
After feasting on sandwiches and fruit (thank
you Phoebe!) we got right back to work. The
afternoon went by in quick order. With 10 kumi-
jo to cover, and only a couple of hours left in the
day, there was hardly a second to spare. Sensei
managed to keep us on track, though, and we
were able to go over each of the forms and a
handful of henka for each.
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
17
In all it was a very full, and very fun day. We
enjoyed good weather, an energizing practice,
and wonderful company. Special thanks to all of
our of town visitors, especially Peter and Gina
who made the very long drive from Reno to join
us!
Kent at Tahoe Gasshuku
Guy and Rob in the Snow
Thoughts About Osensei
by Bruce Donehower
As Marion noted in her article for this issue of
the Awase, in February she and I went to Hawaii
to participate in the 50th
Anniversary Celebration
of Osensei‘s visit to the islands -- his first and
only trip to spread aikido outside Japan.
Although aikido originated in Japan and has its
origins in the traditional Japanese martial arts,
there is little doubt, when you read Osensei‘s
words, that he envisioned aikido as a movement
discipline distinctively different from the
traditional martial arts and that he envisioned
aikido as a contribution to promote peace in the
worldwide community and to encourage the
spiritual development of humanity. Of course,
when you read the aikido blogs you soon
become aware of the continuing ongoing
discussion: What is aikido? Is it a martial art?
Does it work? Which style works best? Are the
stories about Osensei mostly hype and
mythology? How do we best study aikido -- as a
spiritual discipline (whatever that means), as an
art, or as a series of techniques (far more easily
systematized and teachable)? Everyone will
have to sort these questions out for him or
herself, of course. Osensei left some markers
behind, such as the collection of aphorisms and
poetic expressions contained in The Art of
Peace, collected and translated by John Stevens
-- but these are ―expressions from the
mountaintop,‖ so to speak, and the many people
who view the mountain will view that mountain
in different ways.
In considering what to write for this newsletter
issue, therefore, I decided to share a personal
observation that I made at the Hawaii
celebration that was helpful to me in sorting out
these paradoxes (provisionally). When I entered
the McKinley High School basketball
gymnasium where the event was held (and
where Osensei did a demo fifty years ago), my
eye went immediately to a large portrait of
Osensei prominent at the shomen. We‘ve all
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
18
seen several of these, I‘m sure. Osensei was a
very photogenic individual, particularly in the
last years of his life. But I feel that he also had a
sense of high purpose when he allowed his
photograph to be taken (or when he was filmed).
If he truly believed as the inspired Founder that
aikido had a special mission in the world for the
development of peace and spiritual insight (as I
think he did), then it is likely that when he posed
for his picture he attempted to impress this
attitude into the portrait so that others would be
influenced or drawn to the art. This is one
reason, I believe, that it is important to have a
picture of Osensei in the dojo and to place
Osensei‘s picture front and foremost on any item
advertizing aikido to the world. Osensei joined
his lifestream to aikido; thus, anyone who
connects with aikido should connect first and
foremost with Osensei and ―wrestle‖ with his
vision, no matter how paradoxical Osensei‘s
visionary pronouncements or presentations may
seem to be.
During the demonstrations that concluded the
seminar in Hawaii, I noted something that
reinforced this subjective opinion. All the
demonstrations occurred in front of the large
picture of Osensei that I mentioned, but in
addition they occurred in front of the grandson
(the current Doshu) and great grandson of
Osensei -- the lineage that Marion spoke of in
her essay. Of course, all the demonstrations were
in celebration of Osensei‘s contribution to the
world; however, some demonstrations seemed
more on the order of Dan demonstrations while
others seemed more to be offerings to Osensei.
Opinions will vary on this to be sure -- watching
aikido is like watching any other performing art
-- different people see different things and value
different things in the performance.
While all the demonstrations were excellent and
inspiring, I had a special feeling when I watched
the Doshu. His techniques were all standard
repertoire; they were just plain aikido. What
seemed to make this demo special for me,
however, was the transparency of the gesture --
by this I mean: it was just plain aikido, and
nothing more. It seemed to me that the Doshu
wasn‘t adding anything extra or extraneous or
personal -- and therefore my mind didn‘t tend to
go to questions such as the ones we hear
rehearsed in the blogs. Those questions only
arise when the attention shifts elsewhere -- not
that the mind shouldn‘t shift or not that it won‘t.
We certainly need to ask questions! After
watching the Doshu and participating in several
classes taught by him, I was reminded of the
saying: ―Everyday life is our practice.‖ This
seemed to make more sense to me after my
experience in Hawaii at the seminar, and it gave
me a new way to think about my training. I also
was reminded of a quote in the Art of Peace.
Progress comes
To those who
Train and train;
Reliance on secret techniques
Will get you nowhere.
Anyway, it was heartening to see that after fifty
years of change in the world (and that‘s a lot of
proverbial water under the bridge!), Osensei‘s
inspiration for peace and human progress is alive
and well.
Mahalo!
Bolinas Shomen
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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Sensei at Gasshuku
Sensei Goto Throws Geoff at Gasshuku
Many Thanks to Photographers
Guy and Kent for the Pictures in
the Newsleter!
GATEWAY TO AIKIDO
A new introductory “Beginner Class”
starts in September 2011.
This eight-week special introductory class is
designed for new students who want to
sample what Aikido has to offer. Check dojo
website for details. The dojo sponsors a quarterly eight-week
beginner class entitled ―Gateway to Aikido‖
intended to provide a focused and intensive
overview/introduction to the practice and
philosophy of aikido. Participants in this eight-
week course receive a one-on-one close attention
from instructors and more experienced students.
The classes are chatty and informative;
additionally, at the end of six of those eight
weeks the students may join other dojo classes at
their discretion to sample what those classes are
like. Altogether, it is a very economical and
enjoyable way to become acquainted with the
dojo and aikido.
The next ―Gateway to Aikido‖ eight-week
beginner class begins in late September. Watch
the website for dates.
July 2011 Awase Winter / Spring 2011
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A note about the newsletter: The AWASE
newsletter is currently published twice a year in
spring and fall (approximately). All submissions
are welcome! Very little editing is done.
Authors should take care to edit, copy-edit,
proofread, and make their own stylistic
corrections. However, formatting mistakes are
generally the unfortunate goofs of your editor,
who may be confused from time to time.
Sumimasen!!
Reminder: Please let Sensei know if
and when you will miss classes for an
extended period of time.
Pay Your Dues!
Dues are due at the beginning of the
month and help keep the dojo running.
Please pay on time or use automatic
payments from your bank. Thanks!