No smoking

Smoking has really been holding me back in aikido. When classes are more vigorous, I tend to fall behind because I'm gasping for breath. Well, finally, I got tired of it and stopped smoking earlier this week. This attempt at quitting has gone much better than any of the others, and I'm really hopeful it will stick.
I'm getting quite a few of the symptoms one gets when quitting, including coughing, irritability, increased appetite, tiredness and lack of concentration.

Last night, I felt even more tired in class than usual. According to what I'm reading, this is normal and should get better in a few days. I hope so.

I don't feel like writing any details about last night's class now. It's too hard to concentrate. Lots of kokyu. Typical Alberto style. Worked on form. Good class, as usual.

No more smoking!

A calmer class

Dana taught the Monday class as usual. His classes almost always focuses on a single attack. Last night's class centered on ushiro ryotedori (two hands grabbing two wrists from behind). This is one of my bug-a-boos, actually, so I was glad to practice.

The usual footwork in the opening resulting from this attack is simple enough, yet I am never satisfied with how I do it. A friend and sempai, Chris, noticed I was a bit off and helped me after class. I felt more confident after that. :D

Dana's class is always fun and a calm, which is nice for a change. It gives me a chance to relax and try to learn something. I always appreciate it.

Last bit of the aikido weekend

Sunday was back at the ol' Aikikai for class. Chuck's class started with -- surprise -- suwariwaza. About 30 minutes of it, in fact.

We then went into groups for irimenage and sudori, which is a technique where nage drops to the floor and kind of trips up uke with his body when he attacks shomenichi. For that reason, it's called the disappearing throw. If it's timed well and nage's body position is correct, uke will naturally be compelled to breakfall. Well, I was in the group of young yudansha who like to really go at it, but that was ok, I could take it with these techniques.

When Mike Abrams does sudori, he has a way of moving off diagonally during the throw so that he is not in the way of uke at all. It is interesting and still effective as he doesn't move out of the way until uke is already off balance.

Suddenly, Chuck goes on to another technique -- KOSHINAGE (illustration above). Gulp. I get a sinking feeling as I realize just who is about to toss me head-over-heals over their hips.

First, it must be said, Mike wouldn't hut a fly, as strong as he is, so he would be safe. There was another mudansha like myself with that deer-in-the-headlights look, so I could handle him. The middle three or four, who shall remain nameless on this blog, however, started licking their chops...

I got through the first few rounds OK and I thought I would make it, when one sempai, a brand new nidan (second degree black belt) whipped me around with such speed the centripetal force straighted out my legs and caused my ankles to bang together. Ouch. I managed to hobble back to the line and say I was fine.

Here's a video of sudori:

Weekend of aikido -- part two

I've known Karen, AKA the Aikiaddict, online since I started aikido and joined the Aikido-L mailing list. Her enthusiasm and dedication always add to whatever crazy discussion we may be having.

Though we both practice within the fold of the aikikai and have both even attended the same seminars (at least once that I know of), we never managed to meet in person until this weekend when I took the drive up to Woodstock. Karen, who lives nearby in Poughkeepsie, helped me to plan out my weekend in the area.

Karen practices at Kingston Aikido which is run by Robert Wilcox-sensei, a student of Harvey Konigsberg-sensei. Karen graciously invited us to train at her dojo while in the area, an invitation I was happy to accept.

My main motivation in planning the trip was to train at Woodstock, so Kingston was a kind of bonus. However, it turned out to be a very great part of the trip!

The group had just opened a new dojo last week, so I was lucky to attend one of the first classes in the new space. It is certainly the nicest newly built dojo I have ever seen. One of the students mentioned that Robert "built it himself." Obviously he put his heart and soul into the design and flow of the space. It was, in fact, a stunning accomplishment that really has to be seen in person to be fully appreciated.

I got to train with Karen first thing. We did kokyunage both with and without an opening tenkan. Well, at first I just had noticed the tenkan and expected my good sempai to do so. Wouldn't you know I anticipated it and smashed my head right into poor Karen's temple. Hello Karen and thank you for the invite! Ha. That's what happens when one anticipates.

Fortunately, I managed to get through the rest of the class without causing much more damage. A few times we did techniques in slightly different ways then I'm used to, which is all to the good. Sometimes one does feel out of place in a new environment, but Karen her fellow students and sensei Bob did there best to make me feel welcome.

The experience at Kingston turned out to be much more than a "extra." They are great bunch of folks and Karen was a great sempai. It was very enjoyable and I hope to visit there again. Karen get your head protector ready!

Weekend of aikido -- part one

I took a drive up to Woodstock. My main intention was to practice at Harvey Konigsberg-sensei's dojo. Harvey teaches once a week at the New York Aikikai, but at a time that is very difficult for me to make. In a year-and-a-half, I've only been able to attend a handful of his classes.

But they left a deep impression on me. I like everything about Harvey's aikido and his way of teaching it. He just has a sort of flow and ability to melt away that really defies description. So I took the opportunity with my time off from work to spend the day at his dojo, Woodstock Aikido.

Harvey has built, what is described on his Website as, "A Beautiful Traditional Dojo in a Unique Rural Setting." This is, in fact, the art of understatement. The photo above barely does justice to the craftsmanship and spirit that the place contains. I felt as if I was stepping into another world. When I saw it and took it all in, I couldn't help thinking Ōsensei would feel quite happy and comfortable in such a dojo.

Harvey is an artist. His paintings can be seen in many dojo and I'm sure many other places. There is no question that his artistic nature contributes to the design of his dojo and his aikido. I feel very fortunate to know him and to be able to learn from him.

Week of aikido

I was off from work this week and spent much of it at the dojo. I was especially glad to be able to take classes at 6:45 a.m., which I can never do when I have to work.

The morning classes have a very unique dynamic. Part of it may be because it is so early and brings only the most dedicated practitioners. The average level of student in the morning classes is very high, with two shihan regularly attending, Steve Pimsler and Robert Workoff. Both of them teach on some days but on days when not teaching, they just come to train.

Steve, who I have a little more experience with, is naturally friendly and very helpful. He seems to have the knack of knowing how to say the right thing at the right time to be of the most instructional value at them moment. He immediately puts a person at ease and makes the most of the situation. Any interaction is always very enjoyable as well as helpful.

Steve helped Yamada-sensei prepare his book "Ultimate Aikido: Secrets of Self-Defense and Inner Power," which is pictured above. I wonder who's taking ukemi for sensei...

The rest of my classes during the week were in the early and late afternoons, with the usual complement of teachers and students. I was fortunate to attend two classes with Yamada-sensei before he left town.

All the top students at the aikikai show up when Yamada-sensei teaches. At one point, I found myself in a group that consisted of a 6th dan, two 5th dans, a few 3rd, 2nd and shodans and a very junior me. What a great moment, huh?

It's too bad I have to go back to work.

Paying attention

A dojo-mate of mine came back to training after a long absence. A shoulder injury kept him off the mat for the better part of a year.

We got the chance to practice for a bit, and he paid me a very unlooked-for compliment. "Wow, what a difference since the last time I trained with you!"

I was really surprised. I never consider myself making any progress in aikido. Mostly because I try not to think that way. It's the journey, not the destination, right?

Since I'm not spiritually advanced enough to be completely devoid of pride, I was happy with that remark. Then I got to thinking, how does one make progress in aikido? It's especially interesting as it is mostly taught in the Japanese style of demonstration, with little or no discussion, though we don't follow that completely in the U.S.

Simply speaking, a student must pay attention.

I know my method. When I first watch a technique, I watch the footwork, especially the opening. The body position is the most important part. Then I may watch other parts, like the actual technique. Then I watch my partner do it while I take ukemi. Then finally, I try it. If I still am confused I can watch others around me or even -- God forbid -- ask!

But it's the paying attention part that is most important. After a while, all the ideas become kind of ingrained, somehow. It becomes, "Oh, that's that one, yeah." But that is a big mistake because there is always some subtlety to notice for the first time.

There's an infinite variety applications that can be done in aikido. So we're back to paying attention. The more I think about it, that's all there is. Paying attention.

What is Aikido?

This is a question that can't be answered so easily. In fact, on many levels, it can't be answered at all. Ask a ten aikidoka this question and you will probably get ten different answers.

Firstly, aikido is a martial art. The art focuses not on attacking an opponent, but rather on using the attacker's own energy to gain control of him and neutralize his attacks.

Not a fighting system, but a way of the warrior. Aikido is a true martial way that evolved in the historic tradition of the Japanese samurai.

The second dōshu, Kisshomaru Ueshiba, had this to say, "[Ōsensei] based Aikido upon circular movements to redirect aggressive and offensive attacks back to the assailant.

"Let it be clear, however, that ... Aikido is a refinement of traditional martial techniques combined with an exalted philosophy of the spirit. It is a method of forging mind and body."

OK, so we can assume it is a martial art or way, but what was that bit about exalted philosophy of the spirit"?

The United States Aikido Federation website translates aikido as "the way of unity with the fundamental force of the universe."

Ōsensei also had a strong spiritual drive, and brooded over the futility of a path based on victory over others. Studied in earnest, budo is more than a science of tactics and self-defense -- it is a discipline for perfecting the spirit.

"The secret of Aikido," he wrote, "is to harmonize with the movement of the universe and bring ourselves into accord with the universe itself." O-Sensei maintained that budo is a work of love, a path to overcome discord in ourselves and bring peace to the world, "to make the heart of the universe one's own heart."

But how can a martial art embrace such seemingly contradictory concepts?

Any serious study of Eastern philosophies by Westerners immediately runs into fundamental differing view of reality.

In the West, we were educated in the spirit of the scientific method, logic and industry. We tend to believe that all questions can be reduced to answers by reason alone.

However, Asian spiritual ideas tend to fly in the face of such a view. Buddhism posits that a "person" can be described as both something that exists and does not exist and neither exists or does not exist. The main point being that any word or concept cannot really describe what is essentially indescribable. The duality of reality is considered an illusion, but the non-duality of reality would be an oversimplification.

That's why Osensei said things in such a cryptic fashion. He was so far ahead of us, yet he maintained we can "catch the secret" and do what he did in 3 months. Since we all don't do that, we must be doing something different.

Henry Kono Sensei calls it an "unseeable matrix we can’t comprehend."

Aikido is an original and unique art. It is concerned with “the philosophy of the creation of all beings in the universe”, “the rationality of circular movements” and “the principle of kokyu power.”

Well, I'm trying to catch that secret. I hope you are too.

Donovan Waite

Donovan Waite Sensei, (7th Dan, Shihan) teaches classes at the New York Aikikai on Sunday and Monday. Donovan is one of the North East's aikido heavyweights, a very well respected and sought-out teacher. In particular, he's noted for his ukemi and is responsible for the soft, flowing style held up as the ideal at the Aikikai. Donovan is also chief instructor at his own dojo in Philadelphia, Aikido of Center City.

When Donovan comes to the Aikikai, he tends to teach in an advanced style. Sometimes I can get a bit confused. However, it's always inspirational to see him perform a technique. His movements have a quiet elegance and an understated power that shows the rest of us just how it is all supposed to be done. Ōsensei supposedly said, "When I move, that is aikido." If that's true, I think Donovan's style must be a glimmer of what he meant by that.

Sunday's classes focused on Ushiro ryotedori (grabbing both wrists from behind) and various techniques from there. It was fairly standard for Donovan! But he still managed to get to kotegaeshi in a way that was unfamiliar to me.

Here's an old clip of Donovan:

Finding that balance

Saturday's class was all about flow and body positioning, as is usual in Ruth Peyser's class.

Ruth usually takes one idea and explores it in different ways, which I find very illuminating. Her clear demonstrations and explanations are always very helpful. Her approach is very efficient and instructive.

The funny thing is, when I first met her, I was a bit intimidated.

That day, I was very, very new and happened to have a partner who really didn't seem to notice or mind that I didn't know what I was doing. Ha. We were doing irimi nage and he was throwing me around like a rag doll. I was a bit out of sorts from the pounding I was taking, but I tried to take it good-naturedly. I didn't dare say what was on my mind: "WOULD YOU TAKE IT EASY?" I reacted in the only way I felt I could at the time, I laughed at myself.

It must have seemed a bit different to Ruth. I guess she thought I was not taking things seriously enough. She zeroed in on me with laser-like eyes. "You have to pay more attention to your ukemi..." I was a bit surprised, but I just tried to follow what she was saying. I'd say it took me several weeks or more before I even came close to getting that footwork right.

Iit also took me a little while before I dared look her in the eye again. Haha. Now I've come to really enjoy and look forward to her class.

Saturday I partnered with a sempai, Sharon. Recently, I have been trying to concentrate on being more relaxed and Sharon gave me some great ideas for this. She pointed out the difference between keeping an extension and being tense. The extension can't be so relaxed as to be limp, of course, nor should the fingers be pointing almost straight, as mine were. It's tough to find the right balance.

Here's a video of Ruth demonstrating -- what else? -- irimi nage.