Destiny

Bruce Lee once said martial arts is about making the most of what you already have.  Keyword: ALREADY. 

I find this an interesting idea because, as you continue to train, what you have continues to grow.  Following this logic, ultimately, there is really no limit on what you can do.  

Based on this idea, my attitude towards Aikido training is:  Not only do we strive to be a sharp knife, we train to become a Swiss Army knife -- a super complex one with a tool for every situation so that we never get stuck.

To help students do just that, we expose them to different styles and approaches of Aikido, with the hope that they develop an extensive repertoire of moves as both nage and uke.

The challenge for this evening is how to be swift while staying connected.

I have the tendency of doing short and straightforward techniques because they are practical and efficient.  During a real situation, I want to spend as little time and energy with one attacker as possible.  By minimizing the energy expended, in turn, it increases one's endurance.  Maybe because of that, we do not practice "long techniques" often enough.  I feel like students are not as "flowy" as I would like them to be.

To challenge them, I contrived a katatetori gyaku hanmi kaitennage ura with a lot of extra twists and turns.  It is like a super tongue-twister in motion.  Not a technique I would employ during a riot, but it can be a very good exercise for training purpose.  

I used two different students for uke.  Neither of them were familiar with such a clumsy, long technique.  They both speculated and lingered, and then fell awkwardly to places they decided for themselves.  They got up from the uncomfortable ukemi, looking mystified.  They did it again and again.  

Instead of getting better, things only got worse as repetitions piled up.  Not only did they not gain insight from their experiences, but the rising noises in their heads also drove them to concoct up odd variations that got themselves even more twisted up.

Finally, I stopped and asked them why they did what they did.  

They were tongue-tied and could not give me an answer.  

"But, but, . . .  Hmm,  I thought, I thought, . . . " 

Notions.  Notions in their heads were messing with them.

Read [Clear As Mud]

"Do you remember:  I cannot do Aikido alone.  Neither can you.  We do it TOGETHER.  Yet, without me, on your own, you chose to go to strange places by yourselves.  Were you paying attention to what I was doing?  Where was I moving to?  Where was my extension heading?  What was the shape of the flow? "  

They were silent.

"Aikido is a very strange thing: I perform my technique based on what you give me as an attack.  And then you take ukemi in response to the way I do the technique.  I follow you and you follow me back.  Much of what happens subsequently, were all decided as soon as we engaged with each other.  You and I, as uke and nage, we are just here to play out what these roles are supposed to do.  We cross path, and have our encounter.  To some extent, we get to contribute to the process.  That is our destiny.  We only get to live it out the best we can, but we don't really have the power to alter the course of what is to happen.  Observe the flow and move along.  Accept your fate and go through the center is your only way out."

I am, normally, not the type to talk about fate and destiny.  However, in the world of Aikido, if you have a competent partner for nage, your cards are pretty much dealt.  Take the best ukemi you can and ride it out.    

As Takegchi Sensei says, "Be willing to die.  Because you are not afraid to die, you may end up living."