Grounding

When I started my path in Aikido, I heard other students mention the word "grounding". At first I thought it was something we need to do, an action that needs to take place in order to achieve this state. Later, when I started my Zazen (Zen meditation) practice, I discovered that when we are still and quiet we feel grounded. Allowing the body to gently set into itself, and be relaxed, apart from rushing thoughts. The breath calms the mind and the body finds its center, and a root into the Earth.

What grounds us is not generated by taking action, but by our willingness to "drop it", and settle.

Kisshomaru Ueshiba, Second Doshu, 1921-1999

In the past couple of years I start my day with a walk outside. The sights of nature and the outdoors' air relives some of my busy-ness, brushes off any unsettled energy, and simply puts the "stuff" to rest. I walk and focus on the wonder that surrounds me; a flight of a hawk, wind through the pines, or the smell of rain. Less time spent on "self" allows grounding to take place organically.

Back at the Dojo. A silent bow to the Shomen, deep breath, giving gratitude to O'Sensei, thanks to our teachers, appreciation to our classmates and the existance of the Dojo, as well as the blessing of the practice. Breathing in, breathing out. Slowly. Sitting in peace on the mat. The scent of a clean Gi, a new insence stick burning, the sound of water. Breathing. Grounding.

"Onegaishimasu". Now — let's begin.

Lessons I learn from my blind students | Lesson 2

During last week's class at Junior Blind I noticed the way my students are paying attention. It seems like there is a fundamental difference between the sighted students, the partially sighted, and the blind. Although the sighted and partially sighted students can actually see what is demonstrated, they were easily distracted. I watched the blind's way of paying attention; they are more concentrated and attuned with what is around them. They look like they are "listening with their whole body".

Lately I've been trying to see things without staring at the details. Sometimes I narrow my eyes and my vision become somewhat blurry - I then feel a new level of alertness and a different kind of attention arising. We can train ourselves to choose what we take in and what to leave out. We can "listen" and not just "look" at the demonstration, get more information on the "feeling of the technique", rather than just trusting our mind's translation of what is seen.

"There is more than meets the eye..."

Opening the mirror

From Wikipedia:
"Kagami Biraki (鏡開き) is a Japanese phrase which literally translates to "Opening the Mirror" or, also, "Breaking of the Mochi." It traditionally falls on the January 11 (odd numbers are associated with being good luck in Japan). It is generally the first important event of the year after New Years Day. It refers to the opening of a Kagami Mochi, or to the opening of a cask of Sake at a party or ceremony."

The mirror, so it is told, contains our old image. We look at it with old views and memories of who we believed ourselves to be. Yet every cell in our body is different from the cells it contained six months ago. We are renewing in e very moment, and by "opening the mirror" we see the possibility of moving away from the old confines and becoming a new person, a new version of ourselves.

This year, we celebrated Kagami Biraki with our Dojo community, starting with Kyu tests and Dan grades demonstration. We then held a ceremony in which we meditated about our personal prospect for 2009. We all created a symbol, word, letter, calligraphy or picture on small cards - bringing our prospect into manifestation, and placed all of them on our Kamiza. The ceremony ended with "breaking the sake barrel" and drinking for the New Year, following by a delicious Japanese potluck that included some traditional New Year foods.

Pure joy of starting a new year as a community.