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When you see senior students practising jiyu waza (free technique) in the dojo, you sometimes hear us telling nage to be more proactive, rather than meekly allowing uke to attack however he likes.

While it is important to allow uke to take a firm grip in attacks at junior levels of practice to learn the mechanics of the technique (static practice), movement and awareness must be practiced at the higher levels (dynamic practice).

Stan Pranin, the editor of Aikido Journal, has written an article related to this topic and points out that it is a cornerstone of O-sensei’s technique and of high-level practice in general. It is well worth a read.

“I am always going first. I am moving forward first every time. I initiate and let him take my hand. I initiate and let him grab me. It never happens that he grabs me first, after which I start to figure out what to do. I am always going first. I must not wait for the other person to act.”

– Michio Hikitsuchi-shihan

This article by the second Doshu (O-Sensei’s son) appeared online a short time ago and serves as an excellent reminder for us all about what Aikido really is.

We recently had some successful ikkyu (1st kyu) tests. Here are a few comments about this important test.

One of the purposes of the test is to assess a student’s potential for eventually taking a shodan test. It gives us some idea of how much work the student still needs to do to accomplish this aim.

What are we looking for?

• Strong fundamental body movement, including good hanmi and posture, correct footwork and a low centre. It is in the last ten minutes of the test that we can really see whether the student has internalized these elements, after he/she has become tired. If a student has been trying to  “remember” to do them in the first five minutes of the test, he/she usually forgets them at the end.
• Fundamental mechanics of technique are also critical: timing, extension, unbalancing  the partner, correct breathing, zanshin and so on.
• “Tei nei,” or attention to detail, is also critical. This is an understanding of the specific mechanics of each technique and executing them correctly.
• People invariably make a few mistakes in their tests. However, for ikkyu, we should not be seeing the same mistakes repeated over and over again.
• We also expect reasonable physical condition, so the student has the energy and stamina to get through the test without “running out of gas.” If a student has a physical limitation such as bad knees, though, the test can be adjusted to leave out specific techniques.
• The techniques should be authoritative and executed in a martial way. This is not to say the test should be violent or the partner injured. However, all too often we see tests where the only reason uke falls is that he/she is cooperating with nage.
• Ikkyu can be considered a “dress rehearsal” for shodan, and the student should study the video of his/her test closely and discuss with the senseis where improvement  is required.

One of our students, Tapas Pain, offers some feedback on his perceptions of Aikido practice.

In studying Aikido over the past year, I’ve come to think that my ongoing learning is being driven by one particular Aikido principle (at least as I perceive it as being an Aikido principle).

Aikido is a living paradox, much like a (made-in-Japan) Chinese finger-trap.

It is strong and forceful yet deceptively passive. Fight … and you will fail; absorb … and you will prevail.
While peace and relaxation normally conflict with combat, Aikido apparently relies on their mutual presence and existence.

Strength and force can take you far, yet gently applied mathematics and physics (even when couched philosophically) can take you farther.

Failure to understand this paradox, I think, is what results in Aikido’s (misplaced, respectfully) criticisms – it’s time consuming, lacks kicks and punches of traditional martial arts, and doesn’t help develop ninja (mutant turtle and otherwise) fighting night vision.

Yet, these perceived weaknesses are a necessary component of Aikido’s strengths.

Disregarding all of size, strength, anger and sex appeal, Aikido works from the “opposite” end of traditional martial arts – not an attack, but instead a counter attack.

The result is that Aikido techniques are somewhat yin-yang – a yang defense symbiotically inviting a yin strike, to complete a connection for coexistence.

Unfortunately, I suspect this paradox also makes Aikido mastery elusive – the more you practice the further you feel you are from mastery. And yet again (paradoxically), this is what makes Aikido effective where other martial arts fail.

After all, how many martial artists do you know who can beat up a paradox?

I think that for people prepared to think differently, Aikido can become a life-long passion and be “the” martial art to study. You are not likely to find anything more mentally stimulating than living in a perpetual paradox.

New students are usually interested in learning correct dojo etiquette and sometimes ask about how to use the term “sensei” properly.

The word basically means “teacher” or “mentor” and applies to any black belt teaching a class as well as to the senior instructors in a dojo.

In Japanese, it is not a title, like “doctor.” A Japanese speaker would not identify himself or herself as “sensei,” since it is relative. To some people, I am sensei… to many others, I am “kohai,” or junior. It is not a word you can use about yourself.

The term conveys the idea that someone has been around longer than you have and knows a lot more about a particular subject than you do. By calling someone “sensei,” you are showing respect and asking them to help you.

When people first started calling me “sensei,” I was uncomfortable. I associated the word with my teachers – and I was nowhere near their level. Eventually, I came to accept it as a request for help from my juniors… the people who called me “sensei” were asking for instruction. The people who did not, were not. In fact, I still dislike being called “sensei” by my partner during practice at seminars. I am not there to teach, but to learn.

The instructor of a class should always be referred to as “sensei” on the mat… if you do not respect him or her enough to do that, you should not be in the class. If you are speaking to a high-ranking teacher from another dojo, please call him or her “sensei” as well, to show respect. (If you are not sure who these people are, ask!)

We tend to be a bit informal in our dojo, and I consider many members to be my friends. I do not want to stand too much on ceremony.

So, here is the rule: If you see me wearing a gi, on or off the mat, call me “sensei” (or refer to me as “sensei” if you are talking with someone else). If I am wearing street clothes and we are having a conversation, call me “Jim.” When in doubt, use “sensei.”

As well, do not think of “san” as the equivalent to “sensei.”  For a Japanese person, “san” means only that they are speaking politely, perhaps to an equal or subordinate. “Jim-san” is merely a slightly more polished way of saying “Jim.”

One of our long-time female members, Natalia Vorsyna, offered some insight on what she gets out of Aikido practice…

“When I started practicing Aikido, I was looking for an interesting alternative to the boring gym routine and for an appropriate way for a female to learn some self-defense skills.

I think I’m getting much more than that. In addition to being a great, well-balanced physical activity, Aikido teaches me to be more self-confident, flexible, calm and relaxed. It is a good way to learn how to stay focused and present in any situation.

Even if I never have to use the self-defense skills I’m getting here, Aikido tactics are a great way to resolve any non-physical conflicts in our lives.

Besides, it’s always fun and it puts me in good mood – no matter what it was before I entered the dojo!”

– Natalia Vorsyna

Every year at this time, Yumi-sensei or I try to offer some remarks on training for the coming year.

This year, I would like to talk about consistency. Regular training is the absolute foundation of progress in Aikido. Coming without fail on the days you have scheduled for training is extremely important.

I once complimented one of my senior students, who had become a teacher in his own right, on his regular attendance. He was a little nonplussed. He said that for him, going to class was like brushing his teeth… no further thought was required, and skipping was unthinkable.

Everyone has to make trade-offs with their family and their work to arrive at a practical training schedule. Sometimes you can’t adhere to that schedule… People take holidays with their families,  life unavoidably gets in the way or you get a nagging injury or become ill with a cold or the flu. If you get thrown off the horse by some misadventure, get back on as soon as you can.

Even if you can’t train for some reason, try to come to the dojo and watch class at your scheduled time. For that reason, we count “watching” practice the same as attending the class.

I have often said that the most difficult technique in Aikido is walking into the dojo. If you can do that, all the rest will follow.

by Chris Robertson

It has been 18 years since I last sat in seiza on the tatami. Even though I have changed a good deal, lived in a number of different countries, got married and had kids, Aikido is still Aikido.

That is a good thing. Since I have been in Toronto (12 years) I have been saying I want to get back to it – or so says my wife. For many reasons, though, it did not happen. I did do some research about the Aikido landscape in Toronto.

What changed? When I realized my six-year old could do with some help with self-esteem, coordination and dealing with falls, the answer was immediately on my lips; Aikido. Furthermore, I also knew where to find a dojo nearby that had a kids’ class. It took just one visit to the dojo to make me realize how much I missed Aikido and two visits for my six-year old to get hooked. Every visit for a kids’ class just reinforced to me that I wanted to return. Return I did.

Several things eased any initial concerns that I might have had. At 45+ years old, I was neither the youngest person on the mat, nor the first to return after many years away. Wearing contact lenses this time around eliminated any concerns about breaking a pair of expensive glasses. More important, since the two senior instructors, Yumi-sensei (6^th degree black belt) and Jim-sensei (5^th degree), have 75 years of Aikido experience between them, I knew they would be able to ease me back into practice without too much pain on anybody’s part.

What was it like to return to the tatami after 18 years? When I first sat in seiza, it was as if all the years had fallen away. My ankles told me they were still as stiff as they were 18 years ago. It was a “How could I ever have forgotten this pain” moment. Also, having Sensei continually remind me to relax was as if I had never left the dojo.

Probably the largest hurdle to get over was to accept that I was not going to be able to pick up at my previous level of Aikido, which was 5th kyu going on 4th kyu. In hindsight, I was rather naïve about this, to say the least. Jim-sensei was willing to recognize my grading certificate for 5th kyu. However, once I started to practice, I found out that my ukemi was lacking and my balance and coordination were poor. It was a bit of a letdown and a reality check.

That was not the worst of it. To top it all off, I could remember yokomenuchi kotegaeshi (whether or not I could do it properly, that is another story) – yet if you asked me to stand in ai-hanmi, you’d get a blank look. I realized that I had to start from square one and indicated this realization to Sensei.

While rather sobering to say the least, I was happier for it, because it helped me get my personal expectations under control. There is one upside. I have more patience now, so I’m less frustrated with not getting a technique right the first, second or third time.

Any regrets? I do have one regret – that I did not get back to Aikido sooner. I am getting the same pleasure, if not more, out of it 18 years on.

by Aubrie Appel

I have been practicing Aikido for many years and I am 56 years old. For the past couple of years, my sensei, Jim Barnes, had been encouraging me to think about preparing for my shodan (1^st-degree black belt) test. In August, Jim-sensei suggested I test at a seminar in October —  provided I was willing to commit to hard work and extra practice.

I had to make a decision. A black-belt test is a physically and mentally demanding exam that is normally conducted at a seminar by senior Aikido instructors. There is usually a large audience of students, too. I really needed to polish my techniques (to say the least!) and felt I had to lose a minimum of 15 lb. to have any chance of success. I discussed the matter with my wife Gail and two sons, who were very supportive.

I decided to make that commitment. I would describe the next eight weeks as very intense and grinding.  I attended additional classes  and started to eat healthier.

Jim-sensei and Yumi-sensei (his wife and co-instructor at the dojo) set aside a half hour to 45 minutes each day for special practice. I had to work on performing a very wide variety of techniques smoothly, consistently and without pause, as required for the test. As time moved on, with both senseis’ attention to detail and direction, I got over many bad habits and improved my practice.

Nevertheless, there were occasions when I seemed to stagnate and really had to question whether I would be ready for this exam. However, I could not let myself, Jim-sensei and Yumi sensei, or my family down.

It was important to improve my stamina. After a two-hour class, Jim-sensei and a couple of other dojo members, Vadim and Adam, would throw me around continuously — 25 times without stopping at the start, and building up to 50 times. After a very short break, I would then do my test practice while still winded. Sometimes during these practices, fellow students would leave the dojo at the end of class and wish me “Good luck,” with a grin on their faces as if to say, “Better you than me!”  In the beginning, I dreaded this demanding part of my training, but as my conditioning improved, I actually started to look forward to it.

What helped motivate me even further was that I was losing about two pounds per week as well.  I used to joke with Jim-sensei that this type of conditioning is better than the Jenny Craig Weight Loss Program. I lost a total of 16 lb. in eight weeks.

By the time exam day came, I felt confident about passing the test if all went well. I also felt that my stamina was sufficient to get me through the approximately 30-minute exam. Once the exam commenced and with my wife and son watching, I felt a rush of relief that it was finally here.

Then, it happened.  After I completed the first two or three techniques, I felt a strong, dull tightness in the back of my left leg as if it was about to collapse.  I realized that I had probably injured my hamstring. The thought that raced through my mind was, “Oh my God, I may have to leave the exam if my leg collapses.” Fortunately, I managed to get through the exam successfully. I learned later that I had pulled my hamstring and that it would take about two weeks to heal.

Right now, I can only watch classes. It is frustrating not to participate after training so hard for the past eight weeks. However, my hamstring is healing, so I look forward to beginning to practice again very soon.

I feel so grateful to Jim and Yumi senseis for all their attention and support since I commenced Aikido, and especially for the extra attention I received during the past two months.

I am also very thankful to my wife and fellow Akidoka at Aikido Hokuryukai for all their support.

Lastly, I am thankful to my late father, who always encouraged me to learn a martial art for confidence and self-defense.  I know he would have been very proud.

As most of our students know, we encourage attendance at seminars as soon as a student can take basic ukemi competently. Seminars give you real-world Aikido experience and take you out of your comfort zone.

Sometimes, I describe students who are content to train only in their own dojos as “hothouse flowers.” They have trouble adapting when you put them among the weeds outside the greenhouse.

It’s a big step for a student to jump into the deep end of the pool and attend a seminar, but the rewards are many. One of our students, Tibor Bodor, a gokyu, recently began to go to seminars. We asked him for his thoughts.

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“I had watched a couple of seminars since my first day of Aikido training, but I participated in my first Aikido seminar a few months after my 5^th-kyu exam. While my schedule was definitely the main reason for delaying my participation in a first seminar, I cannot pretend that hesitation did not play a role. Having been since to a second one after just a couple of months, I thought I’d share some impressions with those who, like me, are at the beginning of Aikido training.”

“Although there is no substitute for participation, watching seminars and classes is a form of training and is a first step to understand what happens during seminars. Feeling too inexperienced to take the next step and actually participate is normal.  But no matter what your rank or experience, it is undoubtedly a learning opportunity. After all, everyone at the seminar is there to learn Aikido.”

“Learning builds confidence, so during my second seminar I was not thinking so much about my inexperience, but rather focusing on absorbing as much as possible. Trying to pick up just one or two concepts is often more enriching than trying to cram all the techniques and nuances into your head. So, at the next one, I’ll try to just get better at just a couple of concepts.”

“Also, during the second seminar, I didn’t just revert back to my usual way of doing techniques. I actually started to make an effort to watch what the instructor was doing and try what they were demonstrating. More often than not, learning is enriched as much by the differences in approach as the similarities. Learning from differences applies also to training with new people whom you’ve never met, as an important benefit of attending seminars. It is about feeling their approach of interpreting what the teacher is demonstrating.”

“And since seminars are more crowded than regular classes and usually include multiple sessions, for the next seminar I will look into bringing another gi to feel more comfortable in the later sessions. Perhaps the training partners may even appreciate it! Part of learning… “

“Not least, my first seminar extended over two days and had out-of-town participants. It was organized by Yumi- and Jim-sensei to celebrate the joint 20th anniversary of their respective clubs. Quite a few of us managed to fit into our Saturday evening schedules a fun dinner (a big anniversary cake included) with our training partners – first of all, because what happens off the mat it is part of the fun of attending seminars!”