Salt Point Shin Kokyu

Sunset-- the ocean is inky black and gently swelling against the piecemeal shoreline. Seaweed scattered across the surface creates texture, warm refracted light dazzles in the compartments the kelp creates. Kamis, the spirits of nature and the universe, abound; it is as if you can sense their sharp breath in the chill night air. As Linda Holiday Sensei said, when confronted with beautiful places, she turns to Shin Kokyu, a purification practice that is the "settling of the spirit and returning to the spirit of the universe." I was inspired to settle and connect, perched on a rock in Salt Point state park, with bats fluttering over the sloshing waves and specks of fishing boats drifting toward the deepening orange, magenta and gold horizon.
Shin kokyu is a sort of movement meditation, it incorporates of deep breathing, centering, and unification of mind-body through specific motions that seem to awaken my ki (energy) field through "spirit-shaking." It announces ones presence in the world, our relation to the elements (earth, air, water, fire). It reminds us of the mystery of life, both harmony and seeming discordance. Mostly (for now, for me) it actively reminds my body of the good feeling I get from practicing Aikido, and all the realization that stems from the practice.
So I am going to attempt a 30-day Shin Kokyu daily practice . . . just to see what arises.

In Linda Holiday Sensei's writing about Shin Kokyu (which is eloquent, interesting and inspiring!) she includes this wonderful Osensei quote:
"Love is the guardian deity of everything. Nothing can exist without it. Aikido is the realization of love."

True victory?

"True victory is victory over oneself."

But in Aikido what does the term victory even mean? The traditional use has connotations of triumphant trouncing of ones opponent. But there is no winning in Aikido, there is only training with your partner(s). So I wonder what Osensei was trying to convey as he said this. Was the purpose to eliminate the competitive mind? Did he have an understanding of "victory" that has become untied from this phrase?

I have heard that it is the nage's (person doing the technique) job to take care of the person attacking them, and to do so with love. There are stories of Terry Dobson, one of the early western aikidoists, giving rowdy fighting-minded people massages and telling them jokes when he had to subdue them as a bouncer. . .
So maybe the word victory could be replaced with the phrase "loving embrace:"

True loving embrace is to lovingly embrace oneself

Then maybe if we start from the space of self love we can extend that to anyone we are in relationship with (such as uke, friend, teacher, partner, family, "opponent", "enemy", other side of the political spectrum).

Said another way,
Winning is truly winning/ Loving is truly loving.

Encounters with Calligraphy

Tonight I was able to watch Kazuaki Tanahashi give a calligraphy demonstration while reminiscing about Osensei. Tanahashi had a very natural and calm presence that reminded me of Anno Sensei. He was relaxed and deliberate in his actions. It was apparent that he has trained in the art of calligraphy for years from the gentle way he dipped and drained his brushes to the fluidity and confidence with which his strokes touched the paper. His choice of color was intriguing to me, he blended colors, letting them boldly mark the page, then intermingle and fade as his work continued. Then he would also chose single colors or black for other pieces. His incredible work surrounded him, punctuating the dojo. Some we incredibly mesmerizing in their simplicity which somehow contained infinite complexity. This piece, called "Miracle of Each Moment" is fiery yet elegant. This open circle has inexplicably gripped me!

Sensei also allowed people to make requests. It was interesting to see what different people chose and how they were executed. In the dojo in Santa Cruz there is a calligraphy that is often referred to: True Victory is Victory Over Oneself, Masa Katsu A Yatsu (I think). Tanahashi said that it may also be interpreted as "winning is truly winning." It is helpful for me to think of this phrase as a way to remind myself that I am not in competition with others, but that we are each working our way toward becoming the light we truly wish to see in the world. Therefore in order to continue allowing this concept to guide me, for it's complexity to continue unfolding for me, I decided to request it:

Sensei commented that Osensei used to say this phrase often. It was defiantly the most character-filled piece of any he painted this night. Other beautiful ones included deep connection, grace, water/fire, and visible (the eye has two feet) which also included reference to the invisible.
I enjoyed hearing about the importance Osensei placed on a sincere attack, on his vision of taking care of your enemy. I loved how Tanahashi's face light up when he recalled the rapidity with which Osensei could trim rice stalks. I asked if there was a connection between Aikido and agriculture, as Osensei had farmed for periods of time. According to Tanahashi, it was viewed as a necessity, but also as a way to practice body movement.
Tanahashi did not train with Osensei for an extended period of time, but it is apparent that both he and his father were moved by the experience, which continues to shape them. Tanahashi is currently working toward "A World Without Armies," a non-profit organization he is part of. He says he often thinks of his time with Osensei to learn the core principles that will help to shape a more peaceful world. I sincerely hope he does not mind my inclusion of his principles nor artwork here . . . they are rich in their depth, and I think important to share:

Four Commonplace Truths: Principles of Engagement
1. No situation is impossible to change.
2. A communal vision, outstanding strategy, and sustained effort can bring forth positive changes.
3. Everyone can help make a difference.
4. No one is free of responsibility.

Ten Laws of Breakthrough

Breakthrough is a sudden and overwhelming unfolding of freedom from long-held limitations. Breakthrough makes what seems impossible possible.

1. Breakthrough may or may not occur. The result is unpredictable and how it happens mysterious. All we can do is work towards breakthrough.
2. Some breakthroughs are life-affirming and others destructive.
3. The chance for breakthroughs increases when the objective and general process are clearly stated.
4. The chance for breakthrough increases when the blocks are clearly identified.
5. The smaller the objective is, the larger the chance is for breakthrough.
6. An effective, intense, and continuous effort builds a foundation for breakthrough.
7. The more forces are combined, the larger is the chance for breakthrough.
8. The greater the objective is, the easier it is to bring together force for breakthrough.
9. The chance for breakthrough increases when more attention is directed to the process than the goal.
10. Nonattachment is a crucial element for breakthrough.

Tanahashi Sensei gave as an example of the way Osensei had a simpler time confusing the attackers and using them against one-another when there were many, such as #7. He also said that he though Aikido was a way in which one could seek breakthroughs. The night gave rise to many beautiful images and many more thoughts, which I think I will be unpacking for a while, like most things in Aikido . . .

A trait expressed by Tanahasi Sensei that I found remarkable was his confidence yet lightness in movement and his connection to the page (with brush and focus) that extended as long as the brush strokes remained. It was a living example of full committedness to an action as well as lovely and complete follow-through, seemingly without hesitation or judgement, until there all that remained of the event was a gem lying at the edge of the cloth he was working on-- like a ripple of energy that expands into space, just a beutifulhint of the intention and grace that had imbued what had just occurred.

I was also privileged to have dinner with Jack Wada Sensei, visiting from San Jose, and other wonderful friends. We delved into discussions about the course Aikido is taking and its potential paths in the future, the difference between communal versus individual training, and the importance of journey over destination. It was affirming to hear Jack Sensei express many ideas I have been coming to, but also give them his own spin which comes from years of experience and reflection. As I was the only woman at this gathering, I was told about to the sexism many early women Aikido pioneers faced in Japan, and began to understand the long way women have coming in becoming a dynamic, respected and most welcome/embraced part of Aikido. Thank you to all the incredible women who have paved the way for me to have two women dojo-chos as my first Senseis. I look forward to training with Jack Sensei at Tenchi Aikido tomorrow morning.

The Spirit of Innocence

The sun had not cleared the mountains as we ambled onto the shore of the glassy lake. The light was diffuse; the air had the snappy refreshing quality only altitude can create. The sand was chill, bitting our bare feet as we sat down to meditate. California gulls waddled round to look at us and fluff their wings in curiosity at the strange grouping of still sitters. Once the cold of the ground seemed to have throughly penetrated, we rose and walked into the lake, which was surprisingly warm compared to the beach. Just as our feet touched the water the sun crested the peaks, and the surface was gilded with dancing ribbons of light. The misogi practice (purification) connected us to the four elements, the Tahoe environment, to ourselves and to the spirit of Aikido.
Training inside on the mat during the weekend seminar was also wonderful and interesting. I particularly enjoyed the Kali knife fighting (we learned accuracy, coordination with partner, and practiced circular movement) and 31 Jo kata partner practice (my first time ever doing the 31 Jo kata, and what I gatherwas for many people first time doing it with another person. The result was a lot of discovery and re-wiring brain circuitry). The community as a whole was very welcoming; and it was lovely to get to know people off the mat in a beautiful setting. It was really neat to see friends from both dojos training, learning and laughing together-- really embracing one another. Overall, I had a lot of fun!
Richard Sensei focused a lot on being fully present and aware. He asked us many times to remind ourselves why we practice. During his last class he asked us to think of something we would like to bring into our lives as well as something we would like to cut out. It was challenging to think of something on the spot, however I decided my addition would be confidence and commitment to what I was doing (follow-through instead of giving up mid-way through). I would like to remove complaining (maybe to be replaced with constructive reflection?).
Linda Sensei shared some memories that stuck with her that her Senseis in Japan passed onto her. The first was never try to throw anyone (instead connect with them). The essence of the second was to embrace the entire Aikido community in its diversity. Before she bowed out, she asked us to train with the spirit of innocence. That is a concept I would like to remember. Innocence also has a connotation of joy or love for me. My interpretation of her words were to allow these feelings to penetrate my practice so that I could continue the process of discovery.
It seems workshops/seminars/retreats pass all too fast. Yet I also think I will be unpacking the lessons and techniques from this weekend for years to come.

Tahoe-ho!

In a few hours I head into the mountains, the great granite spine of California. The reason for this pilgrimage is a workshop co-taught by the Sensei at my first dojo and my current Sensei, Linda Holiday and Richard Strozzi-Heckler respectively. I honestly cannot think of a better way for me to celebrate my commitment to aikido than to learn from these remarkable teachers and watch my friends from both dojos connect to one another through training. But I have also felt like I start all over again every time, reorient myself. I miss elements from old dojos and feel incredibly challenged by elements at the new one . . . and even though over time I settle and end up loving my dojo, I still feel rootless, in a way that is unsettling.
It has been a blessing and a curse to have moved so often in the past few years. On the one hand I have made many friends and discovered that there are many ways to do a technique. Each dojo has its own energy and feeling, its own unique mix of people practicing, its own focus guided by the Sensei(s). I have experienced an expansive and accepting aikido community.
For a goal-oriented person like me, I suppose the real challenge is discovering how to measure my progress. It is through kyu exams? Is it through sensations and thoughts I have during class? Is it a composite of feedback from senior students and the Sensei? It it how many techniques I know? Is it being able to continue with the blend and the flow even when I am flustered and have absolutely no idea what to do? Is it measured by my willingness to show up on the mat whenever I can?
I hope it is a collection of all of the above . . . But I also am realizing that with pursuits that grow the spirit, the need to measure may not actually exist. My beginning class Sensei always referred to a calligraphy on the wall: "True victory is victory over one's self." "Polish your stone," she would say, sometimes punching at an invisible piece of slab and chipping off pieces with her imagination and intensity.
Maybe what is so attractive about aikido for me is that it seems to be ever-evolving and constantly changing. It appears to be a path one can walk for ones entire life. Ever deepening, like a halloway, and maybe with no destination other than the journey itself. Ikkyo (first technique) is different every night, with every Sensei, with every partner, with every subtlety of mood and thought, and over time as it becomes part of my mind-body patterning and also helps deprogram that very circuitry I am creating. I am really liking the exploration of these seemingly endless variations. I enjoy how they arise by surprise . . .
At any rate, I feel very lucky to have trained with so many wonderful people and to continue that this weekend on the shores of beautiful lake Tahoe. It is a great opportunity to reflect on the past two years and look forward to the coming ones.

Setting intentions

It is hard to believe but around this time two years ago I was stepping onto the mat at Aikido of Santa Cruz for the first time. I was full of anticipation and excitement, and had little idea what to expect. I had taken one Aikido PE class during college a year earlier that was incredibly fun, energetic and challenging-- yet I still had little conception of the art, its history or its practice. Before the first class I purchased my first gi, tied my belt in a loose and lop-sided knot, and sat awkwardly in its stiff bulkiness awaiting instruction.
I could never have imagined what has unfolded for me. And as I celebrate my growing commitment to the art, I thought that I would like to have a forum for myself to explore the incredible lessons I've learned, and continue to learning daily, both on and off the mat.
I'm not really sure why I feel this urge, but it seems that I just can't stop thinking about aikido. I hope to deepen my experience of it and connect it to other parts of my life- a direction it is already going. I also hope that if I am still training in (however many) years, this document will serve as an diary of the path I have navigated, the challenges, areas of growth, and occasions for celebration. Anway, we'll see what it becomes, undoubtedly this will change like everything else.