See How They Run

Endo Sensei once commented that teaching western students was a very different experience for him.  After the first session of a seminar somewhere in Europe, he said, the instructor of the host dojo came to him to request that Sensei provide more verbal explanations of what he did.  "He said the students cannot understand what I was doing."  

"Aren't they watching what I do?  Why do I have to talk?"  Sensei was confused.  But the host insisted, so he complied.  "In Japan, the way we have always been doing is just to demonstrate.  It is the students' job to watch attentively to pick up what the teachers are showing.  It is a body art.  Why do you need so many words?"  

Indeed, that had been my early experience of Aikido instruction as well.  The teacher comes out to show a technique four times without saying much of anything.  If they are generous, maybe six to eight times.  If they feel like it, they would pause at critical moments to indicate that this is something you want to pay attention to.  "Dozo!" the teacher bows to the class.  Then, you are off to practice what you have just seen.  How much one picks up, really depends on how good you are at watching for details, capturing the feelings of both the nage and the uke.  Mike and I call it "developing an eye" for Aikido.  It is a very important skill because even the most eloquent instructor cannot possible convey every element of their movements verbally to the class.  

During weapons class a number years ago, I asked my teacher about the way some people, including several of my sempais (students senior to me), held their bokken (wooden sword).  "Sensei, look at the way the way they are holding the bokken.  Seems like their grip is making it impossible for them to do what you just showed.  What do you think?"  Sensei took one look and said, "You are right.  Don't do it that way.  You should not hold the bokken like that."  

Even if Sensei did not notice it before, clearly, he now is aware of the phenomenon.  To my surprise, Sensei did not say anything to these students about their grip.  I was perplexed.  "Sensei, if that is the case, how come you are not correcting them?"  

I am quite certain that my teacher heard my question.  He did not respond.  Instead, he turned and walked away.

I was dumbstruck. 

Read [Whose Path Is It Anyway?]

"So he knew all along!  Then why did he say nothing?  Why did he let them continue without pointing things out?"  I asked myself.  

My next thought very quickly came to me, "Wait!  If that is the case, what has he seen in my Aikido, but has yet pointed out to me?"  

Not that I have been a passive student, but, in the back of my head, I always had the comforting thought that "If I am doing something wrong, my teacher would tell me."  This incident reveals to me that I really should not rely on my teachers to teach me.  Learning is my own responsibility.  If I truly want to become better, I have to steal from my teachers, proactively ask questions, reflect and self-examine frequently to correct myself.

I shared this story with students in class recently because they seemed a bit too passive to my eyes.  I do my best to show them everything I know.  As much as I love them, however, I cannot inject Aikido inside of them.  Whatever they want, they have to come grab it themselves. 

"I am trying my best to dash forward as fast as I can every day.  Start running and catch up with me!" I dared the class.