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I don’t pretend to be an expert on kokyu/ryoku, the source of power in Aikido, but I’m very interested in it and I wanted to share some observations.

I don’t think that kokyu is well understood by many students. It is often translated as “breath.”

At a seminar years ago, Sugano-sensei taught kokyu nage. He was watching the students practice and looked a little perplexed. He asked me, “Why are so many of them breathing funny?” I said I guessed it was because it was kokyu nage and they were trying to exhale strongly during the throw. He laughed and said, “Kokyu is not that kind of breathing. In the Aikido context, kokyu mainly means timing.” 

At the same seminar, Sugano-sensei led a warmup that clearly included deep breathing in what seemed like an unusual way. I asked him if it was a special breathing exercise. He looked at me with concern, and said, “I don’t do breathing exercises.” He added, “Do you really need to practice breathing?” 

I have been thinking about those comments and many others he made ever since.

Concepts of breathing are very different in the West and the East. 

In the West, breathing is mainly about the lungs and blood oxygen.

In the East, the understanding is very different. In Aikido, Qi Gong, Yoga and many other disciplines,  it seems to me like the breath is viewed as a bridge that connects the mind and body to the energy of the universe. To inhale is to take vital energy into the whole body from your surroundings, not just inflate your lungs. It exists in the context of your environment, your partner, your body.

“Ryoku” is sometimes translated as “power” or “force.” It does not mean physical strength.

Ryoku is releasing the energy you took in with kokyu — full-body energy. It is relaxed and potent. It is the yang to kokyu’s ying. Visualizing this is very important during practice.

While kokyu/ryoku is fundamental to every technique we do,  there are two specific exercises for building it up.

One is morotedori kokyuho, which should be practiced regularly, at every class if possible. This should be practiced with a partner who is holding solidly, with a strong centre. You are trying to learn to relax, lower your center, position and integrate your body correctly and extend energy properly with correct timing to disrupt your partner’s balance.

By the way, in our Aikido curriculum, the word “kokyuho” is used to name many techniques that look similar to but are not focused on this specific practice. Some people call those other techniques sokumen iriminage. Kokyu/ryoku is still involved, but they are techniques, not exercises.

The other important kokyu/ryoku exercise is kokyu dosa, which we practice seated at the end of every class. This is not a cooldown. It should be practiced with great awareness. In Aikido there are many different ways of practicing kokyu dosa, but all the same points as for morotetori kokyuho apply. 

And again, some seated ryotetori techniques are actually waza, not exercises focusing on strengthening kokyu/ryoku.

With consistent practice of kokyu/ryoku, your technique will become centred, relaxed and explosive through timing and extension. You will be better able to connect with your partner and match his or her ki.

I certainly don’t consider myself to be an expert on this topic. But I wanted to share my experiences with you, simply to clarify some of the concepts of power in Aikido that you hear in the dojo.

Most martial arts teach basic defences against a straight punch. In Karate it might be blocking, in Aikido it might be irimi and so on.

The fastest human punch on record travelled at 20 m/s. Many boxers can reach 14 m/s with a jab.

Let’s consider the worst-case scenario. In the case of a “sucker” punch travelling one meter at 20 m/s, you will have less than a tenth of a second to react. Neurologically speaking, you will be at the limits of your ability to perceive the punch coming, let alone decide to move.

There’s a comparable situation in baseball. When a pitcher throws a 100-mph fastball, the batter has to decide whether to swing or not the instant  the pitcher releases the ball, before it even travels toward the plate.

So, how do boxers avoid fast jabs? (Often, they don’t!) It’s a combination of pattern recognition, preemptive movement and hard-wired reflexes developed in training.

The great martial artists understood this well. 

• Awareness: They had a sixth sense about a possible attacker’s intentions. 
• Ma’ai: They had a profound understanding of distance, how close someone had to be to reach them. 
• Timing: They understood timing, about “swinging the bat the instant the ball was released.”
• Intense training: They had built hard-wired responses to such situations, honed reflexes as natural as blinking an eye. Instant technique — no decisions required.

They say that O-sensei could dodge bullets.

If you’re interested in “realistic” practice, train intensely on the fundamentals, like awareness, ma’ai, timing and sabaki. Practicing complicated techniques is fun — but getting punched in the face is not.

Some students avoid practice in hot weather. Depending on the individual’s health, I think that this is a mistake.

In Japan, traditional budo considers hot-weather practice to be an important part of training. Practising realistically in hot weather will make you a stronger, better Aikidoka.

Having said that, it’s important to protect your health. You should be aware of the effects of heat – especially, heat stroke.

https://www.mayoclinic.org/diseases-conditions/heat-stroke/symptoms-causes/syc-20353581

Speaking as someone who once experienced hyperthermia during a hot practice, I will say, “Don’t be stupid.”

It’s normal for students to pause to drink water or rest when feeling excessive duress as a result of heat during practice. Age, fitness and medications can all determine your ability to tolerate heat. Don’t overestimate your capacity.

Hot weather practice gives you an opportunity to challenge yourself, practice the details more slowly and become more flexible as you accept deeper stretches during pins and other techniques. 

Don’t risk your health – but don’t completely avoid practice just because the dojo is hot.

It sometimes seems like people are expected to learn Rei (traditional etiquette) by osmosis. I’d like to explain it a bit.

One of the paradoxes of budo is remaining polite and friendly with your training partners despite executing techniques on them that can be painful.

Rei is one key to maintaining this smooth relationship.

The harmony of the dojo is structured on routinely showing respect and bowing – to the art (as symbolised by O-sensei), the dojo community, the instructor and your training partners.

This kind of respect has nothing to do with personal feelings. Personal respect is something we have little control over. In your heart, you either truly respect someone or you don’t. 

That doesn’t matter.

Show proper etiquette even to people you may not truly respect in that personal sense — not as a reflection on their character, but as a reflection of yours. Most of us are struggling in our own ways to learn this art and improve ourselves. 

An instructor’s mutual bow with  a beginner is a sign that both acknowledge dojo tradition and respect each other’s roles.

A standing bow should be returned with a standing bow, a seated bow with a seated bow. “Hanmi handachi” bowing should generally be avoided.

When bowing to a partner, get close enough to him or her that you can easily hear them speak while maintaining ma’ai. Don’t bow from across the room. Wait to bow until there is no obstruction (such as another student) between you and the partner. Pay attention to the person you’re bowing to. Careless bowing is rude.

Bowing in our dojo has no religious connotations. If you are strictly forbidden to bow in any context except for religious services by your spiritual leaders, ask the dojocho for advice.

Bowing in our dojo has no connotations of subservience or inequality. However, it is normal for a significantly lower ranked student to bow a little sooner and deeper to a significantly higher ranked one.

When to bow:

• Seated, when first stepping on to the tatami, to the Shomen (front of the dojo/portrait of the Founder) as a show of respect to the art and the community 
• Seated in a line, to the Shomen when class starts
• Seated, in a line, to the instructor as he or she greets you when starting the class
• Seated, whenever the instructor demonstrates a technique
• Seated, to your partner as you agree to practice 
• Seated or standing when you complete practice with your partner 
• Seated as a group, to the Shomen (front of the dojo/portrait of the Founder) at the end of class
• Seated, as a group, to the instructor as he or she personally ends the class
• Seated or standing after the class is over to all your partners
• Seated, when leaving the tatami

(It is seldom wrong to bow if it seems appropriate. Seated bows are considered more polite than standing ones.)

We just had a great memorial class for Kawahara-sensei. I wanted to offer a few personal thoughts on the significance of such classes.

In Japanese religion, they believe that the spirits of the departed remain accessible to those left behind. When you have a memorial, they are present, observing and supporting the event. 

Even if you don’t believe in such things, a memorial seminar is an important opportunity to try to understand and honour the tremendous impact that teachers like Kawahara-sensei have had on us.

My relationship with Sensei has continued to evolve, even though he passed away in 2011. I keep thinking about him and coming to new perceptions of what he taught and the way he taught. He is still teaching me. 

His character had a huge impact on me and left a profound and treasured imprint. And I pass this on to my students, usually without mentioning it. They feel Sensei’s influence, even though they never met him, even if they don’t know the source of these techniques and ideas.

Those ideas have flowed through many people – starting with O-sensei, then through Tanaka Bansen-sensei, then through Kawahara-sensei, then through his many direct students and from them to the current generation of aikidoka.

During the memorial, I had a sense that Sensei was present in some way, even if it was in my subconscious, in memory. It was a chance to feel grateful again for what he taught and what he meant to me and so many others.

Visitors: For students from other IAF (Hombu) dojos wishing to participate in our classes, the following mat fee packages are available:

• One day – $20
• Five days — $80
• Ten days — $140

The classes can be taken whenever you wish…

Please let us know in advance that you intend to visit.

Fees are subject to change without notice.

 by Chris Robertson

During the past year, I attended more Aikido practices than I have in the past four to five years combined. This is what I have discovered in the 12-month journey.

Attending practices changed from trying to squeeze practices around my activities to working things around my practices. Missing a practice gave me a sense of loss, of a missed opportunity to learn, to continue maintaining my momentum. I began wishing there were more practices.

Previously, each technique had been a discrete (independent) activity, a thing that could be solved, a location that can be clearly reached, a box that can be ticked on completion. This approach led to frustration, since one didn’t get the technique perfect first time, or the second time, or any number of times later.  

Now I see a technique as a continuum and my ability will evolve and different parts of a technique will often evolve at different rates. There is no end point, no finish line and improvement will come through practice and not by any mental desire for perfection.  I find myself working on different parts of a technique at different times. I’m better at accepting there are days where things just don’t go right, my timing is off, my balance is not quite there….

Uke has been a role I happily took on to aid a nage in practicing. While this is still true, I now see it as practice in its own right, rather than just helping someone else to practice. It is my opportunity to practice and improve my ukemi. It gives me the opportunity to practice timing, ma’ai, breathing, balance, stance etc.

Most importantly I’ve come to appreciate the need to improve the simple/basic/fundamental things such as tenkan, soto tenkan, mai, timing, stance, centre, breathing, relaxation and such. If you can’t get these correct, no amount of speed or technique will help your Aikido. I’ve found myself often doing techniques more slowly at times trying to get a sense of the changing stance, changing body and hand position, rather than trying to speed them up. 

Has there been an amazing change in my Aikido? No, no more than you would expect from an increased training schedule. The biggest change I feel is how I approach Aikido. Aikido has become a journey and not a destination. Continually work on the basic things and the other things will come more easily.  

One thing that has not changed is my thankfulness for my instructors and the other students for their perseverance and patience. 

“Am I too old to do Aikido?” I get this question from time to time, sometimes from people in their 40s!

It depends… Your chronological age is not the deciding factor.

Your health is. If you are aware of health conditions that may be worsened by or interfere with the training, you need to have two discussions: getting permission from your doctor to train; and with us, to discuss how practice might affect you.

If your health is good, Aikido is non-competitive and you can progress at your own pace. 

Aikido can help you stay in good shape, physically and mentally and learn some survival skills including self-defence. Every year, seniors are injured by bad falls. One major benefit of Aikido practice is learning to fall safely.

The dojo is a community and offers the opportunity to make friends and socialise with interesting, like-minded people. Every age group contributes in its own way to the spirit in the dojo. We respect our older members for their  calmness, discipline and perspective. 

The best thing is to take a free trial class and see whether Aikido is right for you.

Many older people have activities that they intended to try but never had time for.

This reminds me of the story of the doctor who asked a senior patient if he had any regrets about things he had left undone. The patient replied that he had always wanted to play the violin. “So, take violin lessons,” said the doctor. “Are you kidding?” said the patient. “In two years, I’ll be 70 years old.” The doctor replied, “So, how old will you be in two years if you don’t take violin lessons?”

Somebody once asked me whether I would be his Aikido “coach.” He saw Aikido as just another collection of mechanical techniques that could be added on to whatever it was he thought he already knew.

Aikido goes far beyond technique.

Of course, we have forms such as the sankyo wrist lock that we teach in very specific ways, that we require to be effective and that our students must perform correctly in tests. But even in Aikido, there are dozens of ways of doing sankyo. Many teachers that I respect deeply do it somewhat differently than I do. 

I have heard that O-sensei seldom performed techniques exactly the same way twice — always adapting to his ukes on the fly and teaching his students what he felt they needed to know, rather than by rote. He disapproved of kata-style training and spirituality was core to his Aikido.

Aikido is about community and self-development. There is something deeper behind Aikido technique, physically and psychologically. If all you learn from Aikido is how to twist somebody’s wrist painfully, I don’t think you are putting your time to good use. Strong Aikido technique reflects having learned something deeper.

Every martial art has its target students. For most people who commit to Aikido, self defence is just one circle on the Venn diagram.

I don’t have the slightest intention of denigrating any other martial path. They each have their value and purpose. I have practised Jiu-jitsu, Taekwondo and Karate personally and respect them all, been strengthened by them all and deeply admired my sensei. But mostly they are following different paths from Aikido – sometimes focusing on self-defence, sometimes sports, sometimes culture. They attract students aligned with their goals. 

Aikido is constant self-refinement, lifelong training to be a better, stronger person.

Aikido is not a way to learn joint locks. Joint locks are a way to learn Aikido.

Today is the memorial day for Ueshiba Morihei-sensei (1883-1969), the founder of Aikido.

As a callow teenage jiu jitsu student reading the pages of Black Belt magazine in 1969, I vividly remember coming across the notice of 0-sensei’s death and the impact of his photograph. I knew nothing about Aikido and the picture surprised me – he didn’t look like any of my martial arts heroes. He was elderly, dressed in clothing that seemed exotic to me, with a piercing gaze. 

He looked  like a wizard.

A lot of people talk about O-sensei, but few of them have first-hand knowledge. Even the shihan who were my mentors talked little about him, even though they had been taught by him directly.

I think that sometimes we hear a lot of nonsense about O-sensei and his ideas from people who never met him.

Biographies, even the detailed ones, seldom do justice to their subjects. I think that to really understand O-sensei, you had to be in his presence, feel his hands on you. Kawahara-sensei once told me that taking ukemi for O-sensei was unique – feeling that inexplicable and irresistible power.

Aikido is going to be the starting point of any biography of O-sensei. But there was much more to him – he was an agrarian, a profoundly spiritual man, a calligrapher, a scholar of ancient texts, a father, a poet, a participant in some very tumultuous history. All these things fed into his Aikido.

I think that trying to grasp the breadth of O-sensei is key to understanding Aikido. 

He made a massive imprint on Tanaka Bansen-sensei, who then left his imprint on Kawahara-sensei, who passed it on to his students, including to me. I hope that what I am passing on to my students includes some of the breadth of O-sensei, not just the details of technique. Aikido isn’t just a strong nikkyo. It’s a lifestyle and ethos.

Though I never met him, I know I owe him a debt. Today is the day we thank him.