After my Kokikai Winter Camp and Spring Break induced hiatus, I had assumed that my first blog post back would be about something I learned from Maruyama-Sensei at camp. But then life happened.
I had recently done a "Midterm Evaluation" with my class - where they evaluate my teaching at the halfway point, while there's still time to change things. I was reading these evals when I got back, and one of the questions I asked was "What is the most important thing you've learned in this class so far?" One of the answers struck me entirely:
"Writing with consciousness," the student said. "Writing with consciousness." Most likely, the student did not mean this on any deep philosophical level. Perhaps he or she simply meant paying attention to word choice, or not spouting the b.s. that many high school classes breed in bright kids, or not writing in a coffee-induced haze at 4AM. But for me, it raised a bizarre paradox: how can one write unconsciously, or subconsciously? Writing is innately a deeply conscious act, requiring both mental processing and physical reaction parts of the brain to be fired up, at the most literal level. On the flip side of that, I know that my best writing takes place from a state of mu shin, the hyper-aware empty mind that we strive for in aikido.
In general, however, I was struck by what this student said because it implied a greater truth about so many peoples' lives. If this student and many others were used to doing some portion of their homework without consciousness, how much work do I do in the same state? How much do you? How much of each of our lives is spent without consciousness? What part of each of our days do we go through in a state of inattentiveness, whether that means not concentrating on the task at hand, not caring, or just being in a mental daze?
In aikido, as all martial arts (as far as I know, along with most other physical disciplines), we train to heighten awareness at all times. Too often, though, I suspect that this state does not leave the dojo. In the coming week, I challenge myself and all of you to try to notice when we're slipping into unconscious action, and bring focus back to the task on hand. Many people do "posture checks" of some sort throughout the day, so why not consciousness checks?
Sunday, March 22, 2015
Sunday, March 1, 2015
Unbendable, not Rigid
Today, I found myself (yet again) mentioning to a friend that one of the biggest challenges of planning a wedding is trying to accommodate all of the different tastes and personalities involved in the event. She suggested to me that ultimately, it is only my own opinion and that of the groom - if we're happy, we'll forget anyone else's reactions down the line. I do agree with her, but I think most importantly, I need to remember my aikido training of "unbendable arm."
This is the feeling we seek in every technique, for the whole body: the sense that the arm goes where we want it to, on its own inevitable course, with no force necessary to make that so. I feel as though part of this is not just learning the feeling of "controlled relaxation" that is needed in a specific ki test. Instead, in practice, your unbendable arm needs to know when to move and shift. This depends on the situation, the technique, and the uke. While your arm will always have that "unbendable" feeling, it will be physically bent (in the manner of your choosing) to varying degrees between techniques, and over the course of one. To me, one main goal of aikido is learning to immediately shift technique as needed depending on the uke - how their body feels at every moment of the throw. A master practitioner will throw every uke perfectly, but that "perfect throw" will look very different when performed on 5'0" me, vs. a 6'5" man!
From this, I think there is an important life lesson - not only is "unbendable arm" important, but "unbendable mind." As with the body's feeling, this does not mean a rigid mind, or one unable to adapt to change or situation. Instead, it means a relaxed mind that can take any stimuli and redirect them in useful ways. So, for wedding planning, how can I redirect my and my fiance's love of metal into something that can remain faithful to our interest, but not horrify our older guests? This sense of fidelity to your ideas and yourself while making space for others around you, is something I think is crucial to all interpersonal relationships. I think it is an idea that can help in the workplace when dealing with differently-minded or even hostile coworkers (or superiors). It can help when in a social situation you're not entirely comfortable with, or when trying to plan any major event.
Fidelity to yourself and your own needs and preferences is important, as is respect for other's needs and preferences. I see a lot of people fall into grief because too much emphasis on the former turns into selfishness, and on the latter results in being a doormat. So once again, I think aikido's answer of the middle path is a good one, and I would suggest that this middle path results in a feeling of "unbendable mind."
This is the feeling we seek in every technique, for the whole body: the sense that the arm goes where we want it to, on its own inevitable course, with no force necessary to make that so. I feel as though part of this is not just learning the feeling of "controlled relaxation" that is needed in a specific ki test. Instead, in practice, your unbendable arm needs to know when to move and shift. This depends on the situation, the technique, and the uke. While your arm will always have that "unbendable" feeling, it will be physically bent (in the manner of your choosing) to varying degrees between techniques, and over the course of one. To me, one main goal of aikido is learning to immediately shift technique as needed depending on the uke - how their body feels at every moment of the throw. A master practitioner will throw every uke perfectly, but that "perfect throw" will look very different when performed on 5'0" me, vs. a 6'5" man!
From this, I think there is an important life lesson - not only is "unbendable arm" important, but "unbendable mind." As with the body's feeling, this does not mean a rigid mind, or one unable to adapt to change or situation. Instead, it means a relaxed mind that can take any stimuli and redirect them in useful ways. So, for wedding planning, how can I redirect my and my fiance's love of metal into something that can remain faithful to our interest, but not horrify our older guests? This sense of fidelity to your ideas and yourself while making space for others around you, is something I think is crucial to all interpersonal relationships. I think it is an idea that can help in the workplace when dealing with differently-minded or even hostile coworkers (or superiors). It can help when in a social situation you're not entirely comfortable with, or when trying to plan any major event.
Fidelity to yourself and your own needs and preferences is important, as is respect for other's needs and preferences. I see a lot of people fall into grief because too much emphasis on the former turns into selfishness, and on the latter results in being a doormat. So once again, I think aikido's answer of the middle path is a good one, and I would suggest that this middle path results in a feeling of "unbendable mind."
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