Spring power

Spring!
It's showing everywhere.
The tulip's buds, the velvet swellings on the maple,
all rising from a long sleep.
Awake,
connecting to what is, not to what isn't.

Nature's school

There is an idiom in Japanese: 花鳥風月 Kachou Fuugetsu. It literally means: Flower, Bird, Wind, Moon. The meaning of it is: Experience the beauty of nature, and in doing so learn about yourself.

O'Sensei wrote: "Study how water flows in a valley stream, smoothly and freely between the rocks. Also learn from holy books and wise people. Everything - even mountains, rivers, plants and trees - should be your teacher."

Many of us prefer to learn from authority figures, such as teachers, coaches, and parents. Nature's wonders are everywhere, and yet we are not aware of most of them. Scientists today are discovering some cutting edge technologies that are found in animals, and mainly in insects — such technologies that may be greatly beneficial to humanity, yet we don't have the knowledge to duplicate them.

In our practice we can learn from everything around us, not just from our teachers. Every moment brings a new lesson, and may provide an opportunity for discovery. Nature is a mirror we can take a look at and see our own reflection. By looking at trees I get interesting ideas about my center, wind teaches me about energy paths, and from my two cats I learn about accuracy in movement. Moment by moment, awake, in this never ending school.

Moving on

"If you find a path with no obstacles,
it probably doesn't lead anywhere" .
~anonymous


I believe that having a student-teacher relationship is essential in the study of Aikido. There may be a variety of occurrences and different reasons for a student to be looking for a new teacher. I remember the first time I saw my teacher. I had a strong gut feeling that I must become his student. For a long time I brushed this idea off, because it didn't make sense logistically. Sensei was teaching in Northern California, while I was running a printing company in Los Angeles. The chances of this to happen did not seem realistic at all.

Sometimes, we need to make a commitment first, and then deal with the logistics and consequences. It took many months of envisioning and debating with my logical side before I made my commitment. Eventually, I joined the Berkeley Dojo in 1995, and all the details (though somewhat complex) fell in place; I took a flight every Thursday to Northern California, and flew back on Mondays. This routine lasted for almost six years, in which I practiced in Berkeley as a Kenshusei (apprentice).

I remember that on the third week of my membership there, one of my classmates asked me: "So, why are you doing this?", I answered: "Because I want to be Sensei's student". He smiled and said he understands. Even though I didn't know what I got myself into at that time, I am glad I followed my heart, and did not listen to my friends who thought I was out of my mind. Nowadays, I look back and it makes me happy that all this was possible for me. This was indeed a profound accord in my life.

If we follow our gut feeling and make a commitment, the clarity brings a relief to the uncertainty of "sitting on the fence". Moving on is not always easy to do, but at the very least, it provides a direction on the path that was not revealed to us before. Moving on, trusting the Way, it is always wiser than we are.

A serious enjoyment

During most of my life I found it hard to enjoy myself while I had to be serious. Enjoyment was usually unraveling while in a light and carefree setting. Therefore, when I started to practice Aikido in my thirties, I did not incorporate much seriousness into my daily training. It was more like playtime, that I got to have after my workday. I took a couple of years to understand that this practice requires one to face the preciousness of each moment, a life and death feeling, in order to really deepen the training. I kept bumping into my own walls; my habit of making jokes, taking it easy and behaving in a casual manner. As time passed I learned to find the balance between mindful intensity and the feeling of lightness and enjoyment.

One of my students talked with me today about his doubts, arising from the ongoing aches and pains, frustration and the misunderstanding of Dojo etiquette. On one hand, he wants to train harder, faster and with more intensity - while on the other hand he is always concerned about getting hurt, and the discomfort in his body. The practice on the mat is a reflection of life outside the Dojo — life contains pain and frustration, as well as joy and fun moments. As the saying goes “It just wouldn't be a picnic without the ants”. There are lessons within the pain, inconvenience and even injuries. These lessons are usually not gift-wrapped, but they are true gifts.

With that being said, let's remember the sweet enjoyment and appreciation deriving from having this practice in our lives. Experimenting with discovery, learning new skills, and engaging in an intriguing mind-body-spirit activity that helps us evolve and flourish. What a great excitement we have on the mat, yet, this too, is not staying with us forever. We get to experience both sides, and work at the delicate balancing act between them. Being all goofy and chatty has no place during practice, just as much as nerve-wracking tension may not be very beneficial. A healthy balance will ensure a productive practice.

In O'Sensei "Rules for Training Aikido" we find these two rules:
"Aikido decides life and death in a single strike" and "Training should always be conducted in a pleasant and joyful atmosphere". Most of us will note that sometimes we lean towards one side or the other, sometimes too serious, or too light. There are days in which we deal with moods, interactions and occurrences that affect us in one way or another. When we come to the Dojo, we get an opportunity to restore our balance, to center and also to have some fun.

The gift in the pain, the spark in the routine — may sound like paradoxes, yet they do happen and serve us well. Let's practice hard, but let's not forget our smiles.

Self control

Citrus blossom scent —
my whole body smiles.
I cannot do anything about it.