Be Nice

"Be nice.  Meipo, be nice." Takeguchi Sensei used to say that to me all the time.  

My standard response was "Sensei, I have always been nice.  I am possibly one of the nicest persons anyone can meet on the Aikido mat.   Of so many people, why do you only say that to me?" 

Every single time, Sensei let out a sigh and shook his head.

Honestly, I did not understand what Sensei found was so not nice about me.  I was a good student.  I was diligent, attentive, self-driven, honest and respectful.  I thought I was a very caring training partner, too.  Why did he think I was not nice?  

So many years later, looking back, Sensei was right.  To many people's eyes, I probably was not that nice at all.  I could be nicer.  I just could not see my flaws, so I did not know how.  

As a beginner, I was taught to attack realistically in a committed fashion.  Because of that, when I attacked, I went after people like a cruise missile.  My partners probably thought they were dealing with a sucide bomber.  More experienced partners had to, not only protect themselves, but also preserve me for me.  Less experienced people might not know what to do with such a super committed uke like me.  

When I grabbed, I held my partners so firmly that I, essentially, use myself as a pin to nail them to the ground.  Most people found it hard to move.  They got frustrated.  They got angry.  Some decided to "teach me a lesson".  Being young and stupid, I wondered many times what the "lesson" was about.

I loved Aikido and really wanted to improve.  Because of my limited experience, however, I was very fixated with right and wrong.  I was told that what the teacher showed was, by default, the right thing.  Not only was I striving to copy it myself, I thought that must be my partners' life goal as well.  "This is what Aikido is about.  We help each other train so we all march forward together, no?"

During practice, therefore, I watched my partners like a hawk.  If they deviated from what I thought the instructor did, it confused me and I flinched.  It probably showed because, I later found out, people felt judged.  My eagerness for us both to chase after the ideal in MY head poisoned our relationship.  It must have been a burden to practice with someone like me.

My first dojo had a very rank-conscious tradition.  At the beginning and the end of every class, students sat in line by rank: The more senior ones at the right end, total beginners all the way down on the left.  People who share the same rank had to figure out among themselves who sits on the left and who may take the right.  That world was very black and white.  It is really easy to decide who should attack who first when we pair up.

But what do you do when you practice with someone for the first time?  You do not ask people their ranks at seminars.  All black belts wear the same color belts; every non-black belts wear a white belt in the US.  How can I tell if someone is my sempai?   Who should attack first?  Thinking that ranks are a true and fair measurement of people abilities, I resorted to assessing people's proficiency compared to myself.  As a result, I was constantly in comparison mode, trying to figure out whether I was better than my partner or not -- as if there were a universally true scale for every Aikido student in the world to fall into place by their levels.  

Clearly, constant comparison and judging does not promote harmonious practice.  My assessmentes were not always accurate.  In additon, standards vary from dojo to dojo.  Ranking is not a reliable reflection of people's skill levels.  How do I navigate myself in this vast world of Aikido???

One may think, now that I am someone who used to be young, I should know how to be nice on the Aikido mat so as to train harmoniously with others.  Right?  Sigh.  Not so fast.  

Just a few years back, I did shihonage with a sempai I knew.  We came from very different background and, thus, move very differently.  When he was nage, even though I was not resisting him at all, the way he lined me up made it very hard to take ukemi.  I had the option of disengaging on my own to take a fall and end the interaction.  Yet, given his seniority, I thought that would be rather disrespectful.  So, I chose to stay with him and gave him a chance to finish the techinique.  Apparently, we were not sharing the same wavelength.  My partner mistook my action as provocation and decided to force me down.  

Why does something seemingly so simple end up being so hard???

It does not have to be that way.

Do not overthink.  Stick with your role: Uke does uke stuff, nage does nage things.  You are your partners' partner, not their manager.  Do not make things needlessly convoluted.  Be ready to adjust so you can train with people at different levels.  Learn from my mistake: My highest priority should be my own safety.  I should not have handed my fate over to my partner.  Just as you think you are "being nice", you are not.