Other Side Of Sea
Sometimes you may learn even more from watching an Aikido class than being in one.
This particular Tuesday, I get to the dojo late. My injured wrist is still hurting. I decide it is better for me to sit and watch class instead.
Sensei is known for masking what he really want people to learn with some virtual techniques on the facade. This day, he is using tach-dori to drill some basic body movements.
Our dojo is often teased for possibly having the most PhDs and graduate degrees. In Aikido terms, it translates into "people tend to overthink everything". After a long, task-oriented day at an intellectual job, people tend to bring the same mentality onto the mat and try to figure Aikido out with their brains.
I have known these people for years, if not decades. I watch them grow, they watch me grow. We know each other all too well. From the way they move their body parts, I have a pretty good idea of what they are trying to achieve. It gives me insight on what they probably think they saw. The experience level of the people on the mat, both in terms of time-in and rank, vary greatly. Nonetheless, their imitations of Sensei's demonstration are not very different.
Seeing that people are having a hard time with the movements, Sensei tries to show the move in different ways, and uses different angles to explain it verbally. It helps a few people, but most of the people end up being even more confused because they cannot reconcile the different analogies in their heads.
Watching my fellow Aikido students struggle, suddenly, I have an epiphany: This is exactly the physical manifestation of the Buddhist expression of 無明 (often translated as "Unenlightenment"), which can also be loosely transliterated as "Without Light". While in this state, people struggle in total darkness. They lose their bearings. They cannot see where they are going. They cannot see what they are doing. They are confused and lost. They wave their arms around and stumble in the dark, but cannot find their way out. That is why it is one of the sources of pain and anguish in the mortal world.
My friends on the mat are doing just that. They are pulling and shoving each other, hoping to throw their partners like Sensei did. All they think they saw and want to have happen is that their partners fall. For the sake of a throw, they are determined to do whatever it takes -- including compromising their entire composure. The emotional distress on some of the faces make me cringe.
Some of the more senior students try to teach the kohhais do the techniques while they themselves are struggling just as much. At the end, both of them become so confused that they do not know how to proceed.
In explaining life and enlightenment, Buddha used the metaphor of life being the sea. To be free from the suffering in the mortal world, one has to be able to get to the shore on the other side of the sea -- to become enlightened. If you want to help others to be enlightened, you have to be able to get to the other side and become enlightened first! Otherwise, both people may perish in the sea of pain and anguish. As the expression goes in Chinese: 要渡人，先渡己
In a previous post, [Whose Path Is It Anyway?], I recounted my encounter with Kazurada san, who was a Hombu uchideshi at the time. His advice was that I should focus on my own practice and not be bothered about the practice of others. His wisdom rings more true to me by the day. If I cannot reach the other side, who am I to even talk about helping others to get across?
This particular Tuesday, I get to the dojo late. My injured wrist is still hurting. I decide it is better for me to sit and watch class instead.
Sensei is known for masking what he really want people to learn with some virtual techniques on the facade. This day, he is using tach-dori to drill some basic body movements.
Our dojo is often teased for possibly having the most PhDs and graduate degrees. In Aikido terms, it translates into "people tend to overthink everything". After a long, task-oriented day at an intellectual job, people tend to bring the same mentality onto the mat and try to figure Aikido out with their brains.
I have known these people for years, if not decades. I watch them grow, they watch me grow. We know each other all too well. From the way they move their body parts, I have a pretty good idea of what they are trying to achieve. It gives me insight on what they probably think they saw. The experience level of the people on the mat, both in terms of time-in and rank, vary greatly. Nonetheless, their imitations of Sensei's demonstration are not very different.
Seeing that people are having a hard time with the movements, Sensei tries to show the move in different ways, and uses different angles to explain it verbally. It helps a few people, but most of the people end up being even more confused because they cannot reconcile the different analogies in their heads.
Watching my fellow Aikido students struggle, suddenly, I have an epiphany: This is exactly the physical manifestation of the Buddhist expression of 無明 (often translated as "Unenlightenment"), which can also be loosely transliterated as "Without Light". While in this state, people struggle in total darkness. They lose their bearings. They cannot see where they are going. They cannot see what they are doing. They are confused and lost. They wave their arms around and stumble in the dark, but cannot find their way out. That is why it is one of the sources of pain and anguish in the mortal world.
My friends on the mat are doing just that. They are pulling and shoving each other, hoping to throw their partners like Sensei did. All they think they saw and want to have happen is that their partners fall. For the sake of a throw, they are determined to do whatever it takes -- including compromising their entire composure. The emotional distress on some of the faces make me cringe.
Some of the more senior students try to teach the kohhais do the techniques while they themselves are struggling just as much. At the end, both of them become so confused that they do not know how to proceed.
In explaining life and enlightenment, Buddha used the metaphor of life being the sea. To be free from the suffering in the mortal world, one has to be able to get to the shore on the other side of the sea -- to become enlightened. If you want to help others to be enlightened, you have to be able to get to the other side and become enlightened first! Otherwise, both people may perish in the sea of pain and anguish. As the expression goes in Chinese: 要渡人，先渡己
In a previous post, [Whose Path Is It Anyway?], I recounted my encounter with Kazurada san, who was a Hombu uchideshi at the time. His advice was that I should focus on my own practice and not be bothered about the practice of others. His wisdom rings more true to me by the day. If I cannot reach the other side, who am I to even talk about helping others to get across?
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