What Is Your Excuse?
One of my favorite Aikido teachers is Henry Kono. He was always very low-key and understated. Off the mat, if not told, I would never have guessed that he was such a skillful senior Aikido instructor.
Henry was a rather unusual person. To begin with, unlike most teachers, he refused to be called Sensei. He said to me, "My mom named me Henry. Just call me Henry." If he picked you to be uke for demo, when he was talking, he did not want you to be down on your knees. He once told me to get back up and stand next to him. "Do not kneel me. It is not necessary. Just stand there while I am talking." Although he was Japanese by descent, perhaps because he was Canadian, he chose not to be bound by old Japanese traditions. During lunch break at his seminar, he did not want anybody to serve him food or water. He took care of himself like everybody would for themselves.
Henry tended to be quiet. During breaks, he would go outside to smoke a cigarette, leaving us, the students, to chat among ourselves. Yet, if we have questions, he would answer our questions. Sometimes he would even tell stories from the past.
He recounted to us how he saved up money to go to Japan to learn Aikido. With what he had, he figured he could at most stay there for four years. Therefore, he was determined to study hard to learn as much as he could.
At the old Hombu, most classes were taught by senior students. Only once in a while did O Sensei come in to teach a class or show something. It did not take long for Henry to notice that O Sensei did not just use anybody for uke. "O Sensei would not use me. I wondered why he did not use me. I came all the way to Japan to learn from him. I want to touch him. And then I found out it was because I did not know ukemi. You have to know ukemi before O Sensei would touch you. So, I decided I must learn ukemi."
Henry said it took him three years to learn ukemi. And then, one day, O Sensei called him up. It was a monumental day for him. "I come here to learn from the old man. I did not come for his students. I want to learn from him directly."
After four years at Hombu, he packed up to go home as planned. Henry gazed into the distance as he reminisce about scenes from the past. "Where did you study after you come home from Japan? Who was your teacher?" I asked. My question dragged Henry back to the real world instantly, "I went all the way to study with the source for four years. Who else can be my teacher?" He stared at me with big time disbelief. Yeah, it was a very stupid question that I asked. "So, you mean all the tuition that you had was the four years in Japan? That's it?" I thought out loud in astonishment. "Yes, that was it. That was enough. I never forget my days studying with O Sensei." Henry fell back into his deep thoughts.
From video footage that I have seen, indeed, Henry moved very much like O Sensei. Not many people who studied under O Sensei can make the same claim. I always wonder what it was like being Henry. The four years of tuition was what he referred back to over and over for the rest of his life. He told me he spent a lot of time just to figure out a comment by O Sensei -- "I know Yin Yang; you don't," after he asked O Sensei why he could not do what O Sensei did. From the way he talked, it sounded like he memorized every single thing that O Sensei said to him, and kept going over it again and again. It must be very intense being him. Imagine watching a video footage over and over for decades. Be it a 8mm film, a VHS tape, or DVD, after so many viewings, it would have been all scratched up! If I were him, I don't think I can handle it. I fear I might have gone crazy long ago.
After talking to Henry, I cannot help looking at my own Aikido journey: throughout my 26 years of Aikido life, I always have a great teacher by my side. Along the way, I also get to take classes from other senior teachers. They are always very willing to teach me. I wonder what Henry was like when he was 26 years into Aikido. Am I even anything close to the Henry then? As much as I love my teachers, one day they will all leave this world. What am I going to do then? Will I be able to find my way like Henry did for himself? I do try to remember the teachings from all my teachers as best I can. Will that be enough to help me figure out my Aikido? As an instructor, what else can I do to help my students move forward before I myself leave this world? As Aikido students, how do we make sure the torch will be carried into the future?
I have been very lucky so far. I am a full-grown adult who is still living under her parents' roof. One day, the time will come. I will have to move out and be totally on my own. I guess I will figure it out then. One way or the other, I have to make it work . . .
Henry was a rather unusual person. To begin with, unlike most teachers, he refused to be called Sensei. He said to me, "My mom named me Henry. Just call me Henry." If he picked you to be uke for demo, when he was talking, he did not want you to be down on your knees. He once told me to get back up and stand next to him. "Do not kneel me. It is not necessary. Just stand there while I am talking." Although he was Japanese by descent, perhaps because he was Canadian, he chose not to be bound by old Japanese traditions. During lunch break at his seminar, he did not want anybody to serve him food or water. He took care of himself like everybody would for themselves.
Henry tended to be quiet. During breaks, he would go outside to smoke a cigarette, leaving us, the students, to chat among ourselves. Yet, if we have questions, he would answer our questions. Sometimes he would even tell stories from the past.
He recounted to us how he saved up money to go to Japan to learn Aikido. With what he had, he figured he could at most stay there for four years. Therefore, he was determined to study hard to learn as much as he could.
At the old Hombu, most classes were taught by senior students. Only once in a while did O Sensei come in to teach a class or show something. It did not take long for Henry to notice that O Sensei did not just use anybody for uke. "O Sensei would not use me. I wondered why he did not use me. I came all the way to Japan to learn from him. I want to touch him. And then I found out it was because I did not know ukemi. You have to know ukemi before O Sensei would touch you. So, I decided I must learn ukemi."
Henry said it took him three years to learn ukemi. And then, one day, O Sensei called him up. It was a monumental day for him. "I come here to learn from the old man. I did not come for his students. I want to learn from him directly."
After four years at Hombu, he packed up to go home as planned. Henry gazed into the distance as he reminisce about scenes from the past. "Where did you study after you come home from Japan? Who was your teacher?" I asked. My question dragged Henry back to the real world instantly, "I went all the way to study with the source for four years. Who else can be my teacher?" He stared at me with big time disbelief. Yeah, it was a very stupid question that I asked. "So, you mean all the tuition that you had was the four years in Japan? That's it?" I thought out loud in astonishment. "Yes, that was it. That was enough. I never forget my days studying with O Sensei." Henry fell back into his deep thoughts.
From video footage that I have seen, indeed, Henry moved very much like O Sensei. Not many people who studied under O Sensei can make the same claim. I always wonder what it was like being Henry. The four years of tuition was what he referred back to over and over for the rest of his life. He told me he spent a lot of time just to figure out a comment by O Sensei -- "I know Yin Yang; you don't," after he asked O Sensei why he could not do what O Sensei did. From the way he talked, it sounded like he memorized every single thing that O Sensei said to him, and kept going over it again and again. It must be very intense being him. Imagine watching a video footage over and over for decades. Be it a 8mm film, a VHS tape, or DVD, after so many viewings, it would have been all scratched up! If I were him, I don't think I can handle it. I fear I might have gone crazy long ago.
After talking to Henry, I cannot help looking at my own Aikido journey: throughout my 26 years of Aikido life, I always have a great teacher by my side. Along the way, I also get to take classes from other senior teachers. They are always very willing to teach me. I wonder what Henry was like when he was 26 years into Aikido. Am I even anything close to the Henry then? As much as I love my teachers, one day they will all leave this world. What am I going to do then? Will I be able to find my way like Henry did for himself? I do try to remember the teachings from all my teachers as best I can. Will that be enough to help me figure out my Aikido? As an instructor, what else can I do to help my students move forward before I myself leave this world? As Aikido students, how do we make sure the torch will be carried into the future?
I have been very lucky so far. I am a full-grown adult who is still living under her parents' roof. One day, the time will come. I will have to move out and be totally on my own. I guess I will figure it out then. One way or the other, I have to make it work . . .
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