Hopeless Devoted To You
It is once again the time when Aikido Hombu Dojo makes its new year promotion announcement. The Aikido community worldwide is eager to see who just got promoted. It is always nice to see teachers and friends being acknowledged for their dedication to the study of Aikido and their skills. This year, I am very fortunate to be on the list.
Months ago, after I was informed of the recommendation, I told my family about the news. My siblings were pleased. As far as they know, Aikido is the only thing that their little sister has put so much energy into and stayed with for so many years.
My three brothers did practice for a while, but have all stopped for various reasons. My sister is the only sibling who has never succumbed to the magic of Aikido. "So, why does one need a promotion? Does it change your Aikido? What does a promotion do?" she asks innocently. I chuckle and tell her the truth, "No, nobody NEEDS a promotion. And it does not help your Aikido. You can do what you can do, but you still cannot do what you cannot do, even with the promotion." "Then, what is the point? Is it free? Do you have to pay?" she asks again. "Eh, yeah, you have to pay a bunch of money for it. It is not free at all."
My sister is really perplexed. "Let me get this straight: You volunteer your time to teach Aikido. You don't charge anything. The promotion definitely will not financially benefit you. The dojo is not going to raise the dues. So, it does not benefit the dojo either. The new rank does not change your Aikido. And you have to pay out of pocket for the promotion. So, why is it even good news? That sounds silly. I don't understand!"
I guess Aikido people do a lot of things that others do not understand. Maybe because I was raised in Aikido by silly teachers. I inherited their Aikido genes, and thus, this Aikido silliness is now in my blood.
My mother-in-law once went to Aikido practice with us to watch. The sweaty smell of the dojo that is sweet and homey to us was not at all appealing to her. After watching for a while, Mom said with a cringe, "It looks painful when people fall down. It was so loud! You all come together to hit each other and toss each other around like that, and you call it fun?" "Er, yeah! It's really fun. You don't do this, so you will never understand. Nothing beats Aikido." How do I explain to someone who has never even stepped on the mat?
For over 27 years, I have been a student to several teachers who volunteered their precious time and energy to teach me. I was a highly not talented, klutzy beginner who thoroughly overthought everything. Instead of showing me the door, my teachers patiently show me the same things over and over until I get it. I have said to Takeguchi Sensei many times, after my "epiphany" of something he has shown thousands of times, "Why didn't you tell me earlier, Sensei? It's just this?? You could have told me!" Sensei is amused every time by our inside joke. He always responses with his signature gentle smile, "I did, I did."
The only way to show my appreciation and gratitude for my teachers is for me to follow their foot steps and do for others what my teachers did for me. Silly traditions need to be carried on by silly people.
For as long as I am still kicking, like the tens of thousands of Aikido students all over the world, I will continue to give up my evenings several times a week in order to meet other equally silly people at a sweaty-smelling place. We will greet each other by gripping each other's wrists, hitting each other on the head, or punching each other at the stomach. In return, all I ask for is that my partner gets out of the way and gives me a swift, big flip, or a solid pin to the mat. Whenever possible, I vow to travel long distances in order to meet more silly people.
If you don't understand what I am talking about, you should give Aikido a try. On the other hand, if you do understand what I am talking about, you are probably a fellow Aikido addict. Congratulations. We have just found each other.
Months ago, after I was informed of the recommendation, I told my family about the news. My siblings were pleased. As far as they know, Aikido is the only thing that their little sister has put so much energy into and stayed with for so many years.
My three brothers did practice for a while, but have all stopped for various reasons. My sister is the only sibling who has never succumbed to the magic of Aikido. "So, why does one need a promotion? Does it change your Aikido? What does a promotion do?" she asks innocently. I chuckle and tell her the truth, "No, nobody NEEDS a promotion. And it does not help your Aikido. You can do what you can do, but you still cannot do what you cannot do, even with the promotion." "Then, what is the point? Is it free? Do you have to pay?" she asks again. "Eh, yeah, you have to pay a bunch of money for it. It is not free at all."
My sister is really perplexed. "Let me get this straight: You volunteer your time to teach Aikido. You don't charge anything. The promotion definitely will not financially benefit you. The dojo is not going to raise the dues. So, it does not benefit the dojo either. The new rank does not change your Aikido. And you have to pay out of pocket for the promotion. So, why is it even good news? That sounds silly. I don't understand!"
I guess Aikido people do a lot of things that others do not understand. Maybe because I was raised in Aikido by silly teachers. I inherited their Aikido genes, and thus, this Aikido silliness is now in my blood.
My mother-in-law once went to Aikido practice with us to watch. The sweaty smell of the dojo that is sweet and homey to us was not at all appealing to her. After watching for a while, Mom said with a cringe, "It looks painful when people fall down. It was so loud! You all come together to hit each other and toss each other around like that, and you call it fun?" "Er, yeah! It's really fun. You don't do this, so you will never understand. Nothing beats Aikido." How do I explain to someone who has never even stepped on the mat?
For over 27 years, I have been a student to several teachers who volunteered their precious time and energy to teach me. I was a highly not talented, klutzy beginner who thoroughly overthought everything. Instead of showing me the door, my teachers patiently show me the same things over and over until I get it. I have said to Takeguchi Sensei many times, after my "epiphany" of something he has shown thousands of times, "Why didn't you tell me earlier, Sensei? It's just this?? You could have told me!" Sensei is amused every time by our inside joke. He always responses with his signature gentle smile, "I did, I did."
The only way to show my appreciation and gratitude for my teachers is for me to follow their foot steps and do for others what my teachers did for me. Silly traditions need to be carried on by silly people.
For as long as I am still kicking, like the tens of thousands of Aikido students all over the world, I will continue to give up my evenings several times a week in order to meet other equally silly people at a sweaty-smelling place. We will greet each other by gripping each other's wrists, hitting each other on the head, or punching each other at the stomach. In return, all I ask for is that my partner gets out of the way and gives me a swift, big flip, or a solid pin to the mat. Whenever possible, I vow to travel long distances in order to meet more silly people.
If you don't understand what I am talking about, you should give Aikido a try. On the other hand, if you do understand what I am talking about, you are probably a fellow Aikido addict. Congratulations. We have just found each other.
Calligraphy by Seishiro Endo Shihan at Saku Dojo
Another blog post that was sweet, accurate, insightful, and made me smile. Thank You. And congratulations.
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