Whose Path Is It Anyway?

I am chatting with a newish student about Aikido practice.  I am very honoured that she would share with me her little victories as well as her frustrations.  One of her frustrations, is that when she practices with some black belts, the experience is less than pleasant.  She acknowledges that we have very friendly and helpful people at the dojo.  Sempais (senior students) try hard to help kohhais (junior students) learn new moves and techniques.  The downside is that some overly-eager sempais, when paired with her, get all bent out of shape when she cannot do the techniques.  Instead of accepting that learning is a process, and that it will take some time before she internalises the movements, these enthusiastic sempais keep pushing her to do things that she cannot.  "I actually can accept that it will take more time and repetitions before I learn how to do the techniques.  However, it seems like they have taken it so personally that they have a hard time dealing with their inability to get me to do the moves.  It is as if they failed."  The practice was originally about this new student, but now it has become all about the sempais.

This lady may be a beginner in Aikido, but she has very good insights.

I also have a interesting personal experience of pairing up with a sempai years ago when I returned to my old dojo.  We were doing kaitennage.  As I was doing the technique, my sempai partner kept offering a running commentary on what I was doing and how I should be doing it.  Just as I was about to throw, my partner stiffened up his body to stop the movement and shouted, "No, no, no!  You are supposed to move this way that way  . . . ."  Meanwhile, one of my te-katana (hand blade) was resting at his neck, but he was resisting my cut with his neck!  I was quite amused by the picture because, setting aside the quality of my previous moves, we were at the point where I was about to cut off his head.  And his response was to let me cut off his head so that he can correct me???

Many years ago Mike and I accompanied Ichihashi Sensei from Hombu Dojo to go to Macau after he taught a seminar in Hong Kong.  Sensei taught a variety of techniques including chokes and locks.  After dinner, we had a drink with Sensei and his otomo (companion), Kazurada san.

I was a young sankyu (green belt) at the time with abundant enthusiasm over everything.  "Kazurada san, did you see that, during class, people were not doing what Sensei was showing?  How come you did not correct them?" Kazurada san, who was a sandan (3rd degree black belt), casually replied, "Yes, but it is not my job."  I was confused.  I thought the reason Sensei brought him along was so that he could be Sensei's assistant.  I thought he was supposed to help students learn what Sensei showed.  "Why is it not your job?  Aren't you supposed to help clarify things to us?  People are not doing Sensei's techniques for some reasons.  Someone needs to tell them!" I argued rightfully.  To my surprise, Kazurada san turned to me with a very calm face and said, "It is none of your business.  Focus on your own practice.  It is none of my business either.  It is their practice."

I remember this vividly to this day.  Obviously, it made quite an impact on me.  For a long time, Kazurada san's response was very confusing to me.  It was none of his business?  What was his business, then?  I thought he was supposed to be a "shihan in-training".  How could he not interfere, knowing that students were not following Sensei's class?

I once read a Buddhist story which can be summed up in one sentence:  One can give you all the directions to go to a place, but you have to walk there yourself.

Kazurada san already answered my question.  I just could not appreciate it at the time.  "It is their practice."  Sometimes, we just have to let people walk there themselves.  No one can do it for them.  Leaving them alone and let them walk on their own, sometimes, is the best thing you can do for someone, no matter how much you care about them.