Cucumber

One of the key points in Endo Sensei's teaching is the importance of a calm mind.  Again and again, he asked us to observe our own emotions and learn to adjust our internal environment.

I recall an incident that happened before the Saku Dojo seminar which taught me the same lesson.  One evening, Takeguchi Sensei was teaching at Capital Aikikai doing jo-tori.  My partner and I were having some trouble over a move.  After watching us struggle for a while, Sensei came over with a smile to show us using my partner as uke.  "Okay?" Sensei said.  Again, wearing his signature smile, Sensei floated away.

My partner stood in place with big wide eyes, "Did you see what he did?  What is the difference?  Did you see it?   I think his hand . . ." I intercepted, "Yeah, I saw it.  He did it with a calm mind."  My partner was dumbfounded.   I signaled him to attack me.  I gathered myself and did the move again.  My dear partner went down the mat like a marble roll over a satin sheet.  "Yeah, that was exactly how it felt when he did it!!!" my partner exclaimed. "How did you do that?"  I turned to him with a smirk, "You do it with a calm mind."

I am grateful that my teachers showed me the importance of staying calm, or I would not be here writing a blog post . . .

During our stay in Saku, our mode of transportation was bicycle.  After dinner at the dojo one evening, a group of us were biking back together.  A stomach full of sake did not help.  Little did I expect that my neck issue would choose to flare up at the same time.  It was really a perfect storm.

The way back was mostly downhill.  Given the traffic, the local norm was to ride on the sidewalk even though it was narrow and bumpy.  There were a lot of pot holes.  I tried my best to keep up with the group, but I was having severe difficulties.  Getting off the bike was not an option.  It was raining.  We were far away from the hotel.  It was late.  Everybody was tired.  We each had a bicycle to ride.  I had fend for myself.  I let everybody go before me, and I trailed behind.  Psychologically, that took some pressure off me, even though, inside, I feared that they might lose me without noticing.

My bicycle wobbled back and forth vigorously because of my very asymmetrical leg movements.  It finally dawned on me that my brain was losing control over my left leg.  I tried to accommodate it by pedaling slowly and gently.  But then, very quickly I realized even that was not enough.  My sense of balance had deteriorated to the extent that even when gliding, I could not stay balanced on the bicycle.  And we were rolling downhill!!!

My discovery really freaked me out.  On the right of the side walk was a rocky slope that led into fields.  On the left, there was a low concrete barrier and then the road.  Since people drive on the left side of the road in Japan, if I fall into the road, I can possible get hit by oncoming traffic.  So, my options were getting seriously injured and getting severely injured . . .

My heart was pounding, and I began to hyperventilate.  I quickly reminded myself that I was an Aikido person.  I knew how to calm down.  "I can do it.  I can do it.  I have already gone this far.  I can do the rest.  Just calm down.  Calm down." repeatedly, I chanted this to myself out loud.

A few times, I did lose control of my bike.  Fortunately, I did not fall.  The bicycle pounded on my lower back pretty hard multiple times.  It is still hurting and I need to see a chiropractor for it.  The most important thing is: I lived.  By the time we arrived at the hotel parking lot, I was sweating bullets.  My shirt was totally soaked.  My friends turned to me with a big smile and asked, "Hey! Are you ok?  It was not so bad, was it?"

No, not so bad.  I'm glad I practice Aikido.  I lived.  It's not so bad after all.