Mean To Be Nice
I used to be overwhelmed by how many things there are to learn in Aikido.
It felt so much like juggling: just as you manage to get one ball to go up, another ball drops. There is almost never enough time to practice all different aspects of the art sufficiently. For this reason, I try to make a point to review skills we have not touched for a while so that people, including myself, do not get too rusty.
Many times, the body movements of a disarming technique are, essentially, the same as an empty-handed technique. Yet, the moment you toss a fake knife into the equation, both the uke and nage get all excited/ nervous/ anxious/ scared/ hesitant . . . Suddenly, the mat is flooded with all sorts of complicated emotions.
During our recent Tanto Week, we did various tantodori techniques: classic ikkyo and gokyo from shomen (frontal overhead) attack, iriminage and kotegaeshi from tsuki (trust to abdomen) . . . As class went on, looking at students on the mat, it was obvious who was intrigued and motivated and who seemed disinterested and reluctant.
At one class, I threw in a choking technique for shomen stab. Because of the level of the students, I anticipated them to feel a little uneasy. I showed the technique very slowly and paused at every step to demonstrate the key points. "I want you to try to hit these benchmarks as you move along. Please proceed carefully and choke each other lovingly." I pleaded. I could not help noticing that my sincere plea was met with some smirk and sneer.
I suppose people are not used to associating the word "choke" with "lovingly", and thought I was being sarcastic?
I showed a pair of students how to perform the choke by crossing one's arms at the wrists. By dropping the elbows, one can move the hands swiftly like a pair of scissors. And I used this movement to quickly choke one of them from behind. Instantly, the student dropped onto the mat like a falling leaf. I applied the choke gently -- just enough to reduce the blood flow along his neck momentarily so that he felt weak. I was careful not to obstruct his breathing. As soon as he responded to the choke, I let him go.
"Scissors!" the other student said, "The moment I heard 'scissors', I already knew it is something mean."
Mean? Is that how people perceive it? Could it be why some of them seem less than enthusiastic?
Many people are attracted to Aikido because it is supposed to be a "non-violent martial art". What do people think it means? And what does it really mean? Are we supposed to be nice and sweet to each other during practice, even though Aikido is a martial art?
I have encountered Aikido practitioners who resist the idea of attacking realistically. To them, attacking is not Aikido. When they are ukes, their attacks miss the targets. When they are nages, their forms are compromised. Their movements are sloppy because they do not have the heart to be direct towards their ukes. They resent partners who go at them strongly and directly because it is "not nice". Their reason is simple: "I am a good person. I don't want to hurt people. I don't like violence."
I beg to disagree.
In my opinion, such thinking is a serious misunderstanding about Aikido. During practice, it endangers the practitioners involved. In the long run, it is damaging to Aikido as a martial art.
The format of Aikido practice is the simulation of a life or death encounter. The uke (attacker) is actively trying to inflict violence upon the nage (thrower). The "non-violent" part is about how Aikido techniques allow the nage to protect himself without resorting to violence.
Violence is an intrinsic part of this setup. Someone -- the uke -- has to play the role of the assailant so that the nage gets to learn how to respond properly. As Seishiro Endo Sensei said, "The uke attacks because it is what ukes do. The nage throws because it is the nage's role." There is no excitement, no anger, no malice. There are no emotions attached. It is purely a neutral setup for practice purpose. Any emotional attributes are subjective interpretation by the beholder -- possibly the manifestation of one's own demons.
When an Aikido system is in motion, the only two points that are constant are the centers of the uke and nage. When the uke and nage share common reference points, they move together fluidly like the black and white parts of a yin-yang sign. The two parts may move, change sizes and shapes, but they blend with each other in a balanced manner. Without a clear connection between the two centers, whatever the people are doing are, at best, some synchronized movement exercises. Nage has nothing to work on for a technique; uke cannot take safe ukemi. "Being nice" becomes not very nice at all.
As a Kobudo master once said, the study of martial art is not about fighting. It is actually empathy training. Being able to attack efficiently and precisely does not make a person violent. Similarly, knowing how to choke does not make someone a bad person. Allowing students to experience moves like chokes in a safe, controlled environment actually reduces fear and builds resilience. Teaching people the ins and outs of violence is the basis for dismantling violence. In a real emergency situation, choking a dangerous assailant out efficiently without damaging him can be the safest and nicest thing one can do.
Just to be clear, I totally agree we should strive to be a good person and be nice to our partners. Therefore, . . .
Next time you are uke, please attack sharply at a level suitable for your partner. Have faith that he will move out of the way and do his technique. Your partner may not do it perfectly right away, but it is a process. Holding back your attack is a vote of no confidence. Nice partners do not do that.
When you are nage, show your appreciation for your attackers by delivering your best technique towards their center like you mean it. Ukemi is the essence and the most difficult part of Aikido. Do not take their practice away from them. People make themselves vulnerable to help you train. Be nice. Give something back.
We, Aikido people, have special friendships from heart to heart. All of that starts with the simple act of connecting physically center to center . . .
Comments
Post a Comment