
"If you
dare to attack me, Prepare to Die" (Chiba Sensei);
"If you
dare to attack me, Prepare to Die" (Chiba Sensei);
Some Notes on the Notion of Danger
A year ago, practising Aikido
with Chris Mooney Sensei in Uzes, France, I experienced an
alarming yet meaningful moment of danger and risk inherent
in our school of Aikido. Mooney Sensei was about to attack
me with a Tanto. He moved forward ferociously, forcefully. I
reacted as fast as I could, but my heavy Gi, which hanged
somewhat loosely behind, got stabbed through and through.
The hole was startlingly big.
Chris smiled. "Every time you wear this Gi, you will
remember," he said. If I had not moved so quickly, if I had
reacted a little bit late, I would have been injured very
seriously.
I kept thinking about, dwelling on, this moment, feeling the
weight of danger As time passed, the experience of this
split second event became most meaningful, bringing home to
me the essence and philosophy of our Aikido school.
Danger is indeed a necessary part of our school of Aikido.
When practising with real weapons we aim at the body and
head of the opponent. We train our disciples and students to
be aware of the dangers inherent in our practice, and to
defend themselves adequately. This is an exciting
characteristic of our school.
In an article from 1985 (Aikidoists Beware) Chiba Sensei
asserts:
“The martial art (budo) is truly a frightening thing…martial
art is back-to-back with death…if we were to find the
unchangeable ethic in our Japanese budo, its source should
be found in the relative balance of tension between life and
death and between the self and others.”
Danger according to Chiba is not a mere incidental aspect of
Aikido, but rather an essential component of our practice,
without which a school of martial art is not worth the
title.
Many practitioners of Aikido think that O-Sensei invented a
new martial art different from the traditional Japanese
ones. However, Chiba insists that this is not the case. He
asserts that O-Sensei does indeed offer a new way for
developing human potential. According to Chiba Sensei,
O-Sensei's road to human development via martial art
incorporates the traditions of these arts. Chiba Sensei
explains:
…the transcendence of Aikido from the traditional martial
arts as a new way of personal development does not mean it
ceases to be a martial art, just as it is impossible for
humans to stop being human or conversely to assert that
their existence has been non-human.
. Elsewhere Chiba suggests that in the martial arts, there
is no dichotomy of harmony and conflict. Harmony and
conflict are complementary. The Aikido universe is complex,
deep, paradoxical. Harmony, grace, and non-violence are as
essential as deadly danger.
Why do we expose ourselves to real risks implied in our
Aikido practice? What is the phenomenology of danger
underlying the experience of Aikido? The co-existence of
life and death generates excitement of unprecedented
intensity. Men and women approach the further reaches of
their capacities and endurance. Co-existence of life and
death energizes personal development, checking feelings of
depression and confusion.
Some people would consider these explanations as inadequate;
why are people exposing themselves repeatedly to danger?
Part of the answer is to be found in the concept of the
experience of real danger described by the French Jewish
philosopher Immanuel Levinas (1934) . This, Levinas says,
presents an invaluable opportunity and occasion for
experiencing psychophysical unity.
Who would dare to deny the value of such an opportunity? As
Aikido practitioners on Chiba Sensei's school, we know about
all this first hand. We have at our disposal mere glimpses
of the much desired unity of body and soul. Due to the
Aikido discipline and experience we sense the gaps between
our present incomplete condition and the ideal of total
unity. Awareness of such gaps intensifies the motivation to
improve and grow. As Chiba says in his article Discovering
the Body:
Recognition of an imbalance, disharmony, or disorder within
one's system, sensed within the body, as well as between the
body and consciousness, is a starting point for growth. One
might characterize the development of this recognition as a
conversation or dialogue which occurs between one's body and
one's consciousness. As the dialogue develops, awareness
becomes clearer, and one begins to perceive the natural
power or potential ability which has, until then, been
hidden.
Friedrich Nietzsche; the 19th century German philosopher,
explained in Thus Spoke Zarathustra (page 7) the meaning and
value of sheer danger as opposed to mere survival which is
the characteristic of "the last man" (der letzte mensch).
Such a person, tired and weak, obsessed with survival and
security, is truly inferior and undeveloped.
Mankind is a rope between animal and overman – a rope over
an abyss. A dangerous crossing, a dangerous on-the-way, a
dangerous looking back, a dangerous shuddering and standing
still. What is great about human beings is that they are
crossing over and a going under. I love those who do not
know how to live unless by going under, for they are the
ones who cross over.
In contrast to the last man, Nietzsche glorifies the
existential condition of the ‘overman’. This denotes a man
who creates his own values, who dares to take risks in order
to develop and grow.
Chiba Sensei’s insistence on the value of intense danger is
not entirely different. We, Aikido practitioners in Chiba's
school of Aikido, take risks in our daily practice.
Struggling to become better and more individual human
beings, we gradually reach towards transformation and
development. Exposed to actual danger and pain, we face fear
and anxiety. Some of us cherish the opportunity lying in
danger, but not all of us do.
I think we should become aware of the value of danger but
also wary of fascination with danger; or, rather ‘danger in
danger’, namely, the psychological danger of dissociation
under circumstances of imminent threat to body and soul. As
much as danger in our practice of Aikido is an opportunity
for growth towards unity of body and soul, danger can also
create a schism between spirit and body. We see
practitioners who master techniques of martial arts but lack
a true spirit underlying the quest for unity of body and
soul. Hence, rather then being used as an opportunity for
development towards unity, danger can bring about a split
between body and soul. Those masters of technique who lack
spirit are ‘without souls’ or an authentic sense of value.
They are competent yet shallow. This danger in danger,
namely, of becoming body without soul, is rooted in the
practicing martial arts.
Another danger in danger is the withdrawal of the body. A
person might be facing danger and yet lack the ability to
master the body, as it were, make it work.. The Israeli
master of Judo, Arik Ze’evi, recently explained the cause of
his failure in the Olympic Games in Beijing. Ze’evi was
knocked out of the tournament in the first round despite
winning an Olympic bronze medal in 2004. Zeevi talked of
"uncontrolled surge of hormones", of sobs and cries in the
days following his premature knock-out. The body was not
there in the crucial moment. Ze’evi failed to unite body and
soul.
His experience highlights the dangers of the split between
body and soul. An injury to the body will heal in time but a
schism between body and soul amounts to a betrayal of what
it is to be human. This forms the core ambition of the
practice of Aikido.
Chiba's Aikido provides a version of controlled, disciplined
martial art serving the quest for unity of body and soul.
Danger is an opportunity for making a move towards unity,
yet there is no ‘safe route’ by which to reach this goal. A
true Aikido practitioner never tires of heeding the danger
in danger as he advances towards the unification of body and
soul.
Bibliography
Chiba T. K., Discovering the Body, in Sansho,
Chiba T. K. (1985), Aikidoists Beware, in Aikido Forum.
Levinas E., (1934), Reflections on the Philosophy of
Hitlerism, in Critical Inquiry, (1990), Vol. 17, No. 1, pp:
63-71.
Nietzsche F., (2006), Thus Spoke Zarathustra A book for all
and none, Cambridge University Press, U.K.
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On harmony, Efforts towards Effortless
Being, and Remembrance; Some Notes on Chiba Sensei's
On harmony,
Efforts towards Effortless Being, and Remembrance; Some
Notes on Chiba Sensei's Notion of Martial Awareness
By Amnon Tzechovoy, June 2008
For years a
certain question kept bothering me, a question I would like
to share with my audience: if the art of Aikido is
inherently natural and is of harmonious flow, why should one
exercise for so long, and be intensely engaged in the
endless Aikido practice in order to gain the smooth,
effortless motion, the so-called natural, spontaneous
movement.
Now, Chiba Sensei's essay The Study and Refinement of
Martial Awareness provides, so I think, invaluable clues for
answering questions such as the one mentioned above
concerning the efforts needed for gaining effortless
motions. To begin with, Chiba diagnoses ailments inherent to
our Western civilization, ailments which obstruct access to
man's and woman's innate nature. Thus, Chiba sees in
over-developed mental activity and conscious behavior a
major shortcoming of our Western culture; such
over-development interferes, according to Chiba, with the
deep fundamental logic of nature. Such logic – manifest in
the behavior of animals – becomes almost inaccessible for
man and woman. Union with nature is the highest achievement
and horizon open for mankind. It means among other things a
good deal of forgetfulness towards many layers of conscious
mental activity. One has to renounce many of the benefits
offered in the West for over-cogitative, incessant rational
verbalization. In my view, Chiba insists on the necessary
return to instinctual way of life free of all sorts of
cultural coverings which prevent man and woman to be one
with nature. This oneness with nature is equivalent to
Chiba's notion of complete, totally open martial awareness.
As he says:
I consider the term "martial awareness" to be largely
associated with type of instinctive spontaneous sensitivity
which gives rise to action that is altogether natural.
Thus, Chiba's ideal of union with nature is, as I understand
it, re-union with our lost heritage and potential of
self-identification with nature. As suggested above, it is
so difficult – and thus in need of excruciating, repetitive
Aikido training - because of the present way of things in
our Western civilization.
At this point I would like to contribute a hypothesis
concerning the dynamics of the Aikido return to nature and
its forces, as I understand it. For the question
remains::How can we understand the process of Aikido
transformation as reaching, in Chiba's terminology, true
martial awareness? Since in Chiba's thought Aikido
discipline is closely associated with consciousness (the
concept of martial awareness is of this quality), we need to
think in terms of transformation of consciousness in order
to understand ourselves as Aikido-practitioners seeking to
attain to our goal (martial awareness). It is of course a
long way stretching ahead of us (I mean thinking of Aikido
transformation of consciousness). What concepts can we use
in our reflection on Aikido development? Here, in this
paper, I suggest that in-depth memory, remembrance or
recollection, are helpful in our preliminary effort at
connecting Chiba's thought with the psychology of Aikido
consciousness.
I borrow the concept of in-depth memory from the great
Plato. In his dialogue titled Meno he says:
Socrates: If the truth of all things always existed in the
soul, then the soul is immortal. Wherefore be of good cheer,
and try to recollect what you do not know, or rather what
you do not remember.
In this beautiful dialogue Socrates brings a boy to realize
that he knows a certain mathematical truth (the Pythagoras'
theorem) by progressive recollection thereof. The boy is a
simple servant; he has never learned any mathematics. But
lo, he brings to life a deeply buried memory of a
sophisticated mathematical truth! He successfully retrieves
an almost inaccessible piece of knowledge. Thus, knowledge,
according to Plato, is truly in-depth remembrance of being
and cognitions available beneath our current behavior and
awareness. This is the type of universal, deeply buried or
concealed, non-individual mode of remembrance and awareness
implied in Chiba's conception of martial awareness.
There are obviously big differences between the type of
awareness possible to man and woman according to Plato and
that type of awareness implied by Chiba. I am using Plato's
theory of knowledge (or awareness) as memory in order to
start thinking on Aikido practice What matters to me is the
existence of layers of being made newly accessible by
various means of remembrance, layers made available to us by
virtue of our real, already in existence nature. We do not
create martial awareness out of nothing. Chiba recommends
spontaneous, smooth, elegant, instinctual motion. As I
understand it, he means to say: we Aikido practitioners move
towards effortless martial awareness by means of efforts
towards a very special type of remembrance. Thus, by our
harsh Aikido discipline and efforts we come to remember and
be who we truly are, also perhaps who we have really always
been.
2. On Chiba Sensei's school of Aikido
What is the essence of Chiba Sensei's Aikido? What is the
core of us, as disciples of this school of Aikido? There are
many Aikido-schools; they all teach such values as harmony,
soft and powerless motion and yet, there is a difference.
This is what I wish to explore in this paper.
A clear and obvious answer does not immediately come to
mind, in a sense, it is impossible to say. For the essence
of our Aikido-discipline is embedded in the body.
Aikido-essence exists in deep layers of our bodily identity,
layers that are not easily accessible to people outside our
school. Thus, there are objective difficulties in
transmitting it. Moreover, in principle it is impossible to
transmit true the essential elements of our experience and
perspective on life for the sake of people who do not have
the "Aikido vibration" in their flesh and blood. In other
words, verbalized articulation of Aikido experience is
inherently paradoxical. This knowledge might well be obvious
to practitioners, yet remote and almost mysterious to
outsiders.
Chiba has long pointed the importance of the psychophysics
unity, hence the dangers inherent in processes of excessive
verbalization and ratiocination. Such processes, he argues,
removes people from their inner potential. Yet another issue
is at stake here: If adequate expression of Aikido's
experience and meanings is inherently impossible and if
verbalization and language are often obstacles on the way to
connectedness with one's innermost being, why try to
verbalize in the first place? Why, in other words, write an
article? The answer I give is this: it is important to
understand what makes Chiba Sensei's Aikido school of
experience and thought different from other schools. It is
important for us, Chiba's disciples, to distinguish
ourselves from all sorts of truisms and clichés prevalent in
the world of Aikido practitioners and disciples of many
kinds. In this effort to make the distinction, to offer
definitions however inherently inadequate and preliminary,
language is necessary.
What makes our school of Aikido what it is? To begin with,
let us turn to Chiba's own words, in his article The study
and Refinement of Martial Awareness (p.4):
“I would like to offer my observations of Aikido in
contemporary society. However much a practitioner's
technique may appear splendid and well performed, in the
absence of the three aforementioned elements, I consider
what s/he is doing to represent somewhat of departure from
Martial aspect of Aikido. I can appreciate the skill and
accumulated efforts behind the movements; however, they
appear to me like a fascinating display of human swimming on
dry land.”
By his powerful metaphor of "swimming on dry land" and his
reference to "martial awareness", Chiba points to the
essence of our Aikido school and thereby establishes its
distinction. For me, Chiba's words are most important as a
challenge towards our understanding of ourselves as
disciples in Chiba Sensei's school. As I suggested above,
reduction or translation of Chiba's truth to ordinary modes
of communication implies serious difficulties. Now, equipped
with Chiba's own reference to the issue, I am on better
grounds to elaborate further. To begin with, Chiba is
harshly critical not only of current culture in the West but
also of today's numerous Aikido schools of practice.
Something is lacking, he says, in contemporary Aikido
schools. What is it? Martial awareness, says Chiba.
As suggested above, it is impossible to explicate the
meaning of martial awareness in our practice and experience.
The presence of such a mood and kind of positive alert and
openness in situations of danger and immediate challenges is
too subtle, deep, buried in the unfathomable psych-physical
unity of our body and soul. Chiba insists upon such a unity
beyond apparent multiplicity of psychological and physical
phenomena.
It is somewhat easier to comprehend the physical side of the
experience. Naturally, one does wish to avoid any harm to
the body. The psychological dimension is nevertheless more
complex. One may well ask why we should undergo such an
intensive process of overcoming fear. But yet, this exactly
the point, the constant effort to overcome fear we continue
this process to keep on moving and search the limitations of
our body and soul. This is undoubtedly an element with
enormous value, one that empowers the process of practicing
Aikido. It turns one into a better Aikidoda and eventually
helps one to become a better person, more courageous one. As
the process continues, one becomes apt to handles
difficulties and this amount to some kind of personal
transformation. Exactly this virtue is to be found in the
centre of Chiba's perception of one's development, or rather
transformation, from a novice practitioner of Aikido to a
teacher and to a teacher-cum-disciple.
Here is Plato's beautiful reference to the courage and
greatness implied in the effort to know:
"Socrates: and I, meno, like what I am saying. Some things I
have said of which I am not altogether confident. But that
we shall be better and braver and less helpless if we think
that we aught to enquire, than we should have been if we
indulged in the idle fancy that there was no knowing and no
use in seeking to know what we do not know; that is a theme
upon which I am ready to fight, in word and deed, to the
utmost of my power."
All we can do is speculate on Chiba's pregnant ideas and
words, keeping in mind our goal; we seek to know ourselves
as practitioners of Chiba Sensei's school of Aikido. Let us
go back to Chiba's terse and harsh statement above, adding
another succinct assertion:
"I regard Aikido to be more than just another martial art
form, for its value transcends the boundaries and
limitations inherent in the martial art form."
Chiba suggests that allegedly perfect practice and form are
not perfect at all. What seems smooth, elegant, and perfect
technical form might be far from satisfactory, far from an
aim worth seeking. Indeed, says Chiba, it might be lacking
the dimension of martial awareness. In our modern world in
which, as I mentioned in the first part, we submerged
ourselves in indulgent world, so we tend to perceive the
potential dangers around us as minimal and hardly
perceptible, and hence the martial awareness is virtually
unknown. Our school of Aikido is about the resurrection of
the attitude of alertness, consciousness of danger as well
as harmony and effortless.
Cultivation of such an attitude is the essence of our Aikido
school; as I tried to explain in the first part of this
paper, it is resurrection of memory deeply buried in our
innermost identity. Getting in touch with this kind of
memory and remembrance is what we do in our practice; it is
the essence of our school of Aikido.
3. Is Non-Violent Martial Art Possible? A note on Aikido
Dialectics
Martial awareness is a notion central in Chiba Sensei's
vision of life and Aikido. It is a subtle, complex and deep
experience hard to explicate by words; verbalization we have
previously referred to Aikido state of mind in Chiba's
vision as “martial awareness". What is it? How can it be
articulated by words?
In order to understand Chiba's thought and unique vision
underlying our school of Aikido I resort in this final
exploration to the philosophy of Emanuel Levinas. A French,
Jewish philosopher who captures in words some dimensions of
Chiba Sensei's unique experience and vision of the essence
of martial art and martial awareness.
In the following I will try to use Levinas' conception of
violence in order to explicate Chiba's Sensei's deep and
complex notion of Aikido as a non-violent martial art.
In my first and second parts of this article I have raised
questions of the essence and meaning of Aikido practice and
experience. The recurrent, fundamental question was: how can
we reconciliate Chiba’s Aikido with the notion of
non-violent martial art?
We understand of course that the notion of non-violent
martial art is paradoxical; we know that Chiba's Aikido is
immensely powerful, replete with dangers to ourselves and
others. And yet, it is inherently non-violent. How is this
possible?
In his Difficult Freedom (1963) Levinas writes:
Violence is to be found in any action in which one acts as
if one were alone to act; as if the rest of the universe
were there only to receive the action; violence is
consequently also any action which we endure without at any
point collaborating in it.
Levinas' conception of violence as associated with inherent
negation of the others' existence is very close in spirit to
Chiba's notion of martial awareness embedded in the effort
to avoid hurting oneself as well as others! In my view, from
the psychological perspective, violence takes place by
virtue of passivity (on the recipient side) and narcissism
(on the acting, violent part) Adopting Levinas' suggestive
definition, one is free to participate in an allegedly
aggressive action leveled at him or to resist it. If one
participates in the action to hurt him one makes that action
violent! This is indeed a conception of violence truly
paradoxical yet in my view deep and closely related to Chiba
Sensei's conception of non-violent Aikido martial art.
Thus, being keenly aware of one's opponent's intentions is a
precondition of turning alleged violent action into a
harmless activity. This is how awareness becomes
transformational, namely, transforming an attack into
non-violence. In addition, Chiba insists the need to be
receptive alive and active, so the Aikidoka is never a
victim, and the situation become inherently dialogical. This
is, in my view the essence of Chiba Sensei's notion of
martial awareness; and that is how Chiba's Aikido school
teaches non-violent martial art.
But is it not a predisposition common to any and every
martial art, namely the insistence of being aware of one's
opponent's intentions? This is perhaps true. But Chiba's
Aikido experience and training consists also of something
else; the Aikido practitioner is required to recognize the
other-opponent as necessarily existent, never to be erased,
and never be denied his or her being. In terms of
consciousness and its development in the course of Aikido
training the goal is no other than mutual recognition of one
and his or her opponent.
The requirement of creating mutual recognition of one and
one's opponent is of course very difficult to achieve. A
person attacked often becomes paralyzed as it were,
incapable of response. Chiba's Aikido is about the
development of this kind of transformational openness
turning a potentially violent into non-injurious dialogue.
How is this done? How is it made possible? It is appropriate
to refer in brief to Chiba's Five Pillars of Training:
1) Centeredness.
2) Connectedness.
3) Wholeness.
4) Liveliness.
5) Openness.
Practicing Aikido in accordance with these principles means
connecting of two persons through their respective centers
so that they are both fully responsive in body and soul to
each other and to the environment at large. It is total
involvement and commitment to the other and to the world. In
this sense, Chiba insists, Aikido practice produces
qualities of martial awareness. Thus, Aikido practice
transcends mere mastery of technique and technical
competence; it is total training of the whole person.
But do we have true evidence of real moments of awareness
and the efficacy of Aikido practice in this respect? I say,
yes; we are witnesses to the power of Chiba's Aikido to
enhance openness and awareness. In his visit to Israel,
Chris Mooney Sensei had a talk in a coffee house with one of
my students. At the very beginning of the talk Chris asked:
have you noticed the presence of all the others in the café?
My student could not tell. But Chris, fixing his eyes on the
student listed and described one by one the others present
around. This is openness, awareness made possible by years
on the Tatami.
Unity of body and soul is Chiba's underlying goal and
definition of a successful Aikido practitioner. Such unity
is very difficult to achieve, a condition opposed to
conventional approaches in the West. The contrast between
the essential split of body and self inherent in Western
civilization, Aikido practice in Chiba's experience and
thought means a movement towards unity of body and self. The
question to be asked is the following: how is our school
Aikido conducive to experience of body\self identity and
unity? We have referred above to the dangerous situation
inherent to our Aikido practice. We have emphatically
pointed to martial awareness as a necessary dimension in our
Aikido practice. We have also explicated in brief the mode
of Aikido openness towards others in the
practitioner\opponent unified field. How is all this
connected with the unity of body and soul? Verbalization
fails at this attempt of articulating the most intimate and
subtle aspect of our Aikido experience. I turn again to
Levinas (1934) for a brilliant and succinct reference to the
meaning of those moments of danger and awareness so
characteristic of our Aikido universe:
In a dangerous sport or risky exercise in which gestures
attain an almost abstract perfection in the face of death,
all dualism between the self and the body must disappear…
Levinas was of course not an Aikido practitioner. And yet,
in his reflection on danger, consciousness, soul, body and
pain he was superb in capturing the meaning of our
experience as Aikido practitioners of Chiba Sensei's school.
Every one of us would recognize the truth of his brilliant
association of bodily pain (an aspect inherent in our Aikido
practice) and unity of self and body:
Physical pain can reveal an absolute position. The body is
not only a happy or unhappy accident that relates us to the
implacable world of matter. Its adherence to the Self is of
value in itself. It is an adherence that one does not escape
and that no metaphor can confuse with the presence of an
external object; it is a union that does not in any way
alter the tragic character of finality…
Thus, we recognize an aspect inherent in our Aikido practice
by the words of a Jewish, French philosopher. But
verbalization, of course does not meet the challenge of
articulation of such an experience of self\body unity made
possible in our Aikido practice. Martial awareness is rooted
in a mode of remembrance deeper than conventional
consciousness. It is a layer of animal-like ancient memory
resurrected by practitioners of Aikido. In this matter, true
Aikido practice leading to transformation of consciousness
and recognition is indispensable.
Bibliography
Levinas E., (1934), Reflections on the Philosophy of
Hitlerism, in Critical Inquiry, (1990), Vol. 17, No. 1, pp:
63-71.
Levinas E., (1963), Spirit and Violence, in Difficult
Freedom, (1990), The John Hopkins University Press -
Baltimore. pp: 6-7
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Being a Teacher in our School
Being a Teacher in our School
By Amnon Tzechovoy, July 2006
In this paper I will describe
the impact of two forces affecting dialectically instructors
in a school like ours. The first is a force unifying
instructors' behavior and thought; such a force acts towards
establishing a uniform, conformist type of teacher. Under
the impact of forces of this kind teachers tens to resemble
one another, thinking and acting in ways recommended within
the school. The second type of force acts towards
individualistic modes of behavior and thought; under the
influence of such a force instructors tend to express
themselves individually, often deviating from normative or
conformist ways of teaching. The two forces mentioned above
are conspicuously different, mutually contradictory. I will
henceforth call the first type "conformist", the second
"individualistic." The question I raise is the following: how can we
characterize the conformist force present in our Aikido
tradition? Such a question reminds me a controversy between
two of the greatest philosophers in the West: L.
Wittgenstein and G. Frege. Wittgenstein adored Frege, and
considered him a spiritual master. And yet, Wittgenstein
criticized Frege on one essential issue; he thought one
should tackle a rival over the latter's strong positions
(not over his weak ones). (Frege used to look for rivals'
weak points). Challenging a rival's weak points, in
Wittgenstein's view, would not overcome a rival's position
(since an improved version would be possible), whereas
overcoming an opponent's strong positions would finish off
his stance altogether. Wittgenstein is known to have said:
"Go the bloody hard way." This is, in my view, a deep
saying; it is indeed a saying expressive of the essence of
our school. When we wish to create better teachers and
instructors, we need, I think, to inculcate wittgenstein's
attitude into our minds, and seek to make ourselves free of
faults and shortcomings of previous generations of teachers,
improving ourselves beyond limits of the past. When Chris
Mooney Sensei told me it was time for my Fukushidoin exam, I
realized – after many years of teaching and instructing –
that there is a substantial gap between my conception of
what is possible for me and what I can actually accomplish.
Thus, I realized that in order to become a truly reliable
and worthy teacher in our school I had to transform myself
the hard way. It is, I think, a way in the spirit of
Wittgenstein, inviting a need to renounce what we had
learned in the past, making room for new developments often
different from what we used to consider as our stronger
points. It is indeed emotionally very difficult to accept
our true imperfections. Many schools – even within the
Aikikai field - focus on the trainees' powers, ignoring the
weak areas which consist, I think, in the allegedly
successful assets. However, in my view transformation and
developments constitute the core of our value-system in the
school. But how do we actually act for transformation-sake? One
thing is clear: by all means, complacency should be avoided.
Neither disciple nor master should be encouraged to be
complacent about practice and functioning. Neither should
disciples be thrown into despair; a subtle boundary between
complacency and despair should be made visible and alive.
Chiba Sensei and his disciples created and maintained a
system coherent and cohesive, of specific character and
attributes. Anybody experiencing the particular combination
of weight (heaviness) and movement in the functioning of our
great teachers knows what I mean. Maintaining this spirit
the Sensei represents the next phase or generation of
disciples in the tradition of Aikido. But our tradition implies not only bodily transformation; it
means an ethical transformation from the body (often tired,
even injured) into the domain of value and spirit. This is
the goal of Chiba Sensei as I understand it. In our process
of training we need to realize our imperfections and
weaknesses as we face authoritative figures not always
"nice". We work from the body towards character-traits
recommended, emphasized, insisted upon in our school. In
this way we live towards establishing a common personality
of masters and disciples working together for surviving in
changing, hard circumstances. In this sense, the force of
conformity is present in our school and tradition. And yet, we also seek individuality of our disciples,
teachers, and masters. Old Hassidic tales are to the point
in this respect. Rabbi Bunem was old and blind. When asked
about a wish to be Abraham the Father, he said: no, I prefer
to be myself, as I am, for what is God's benefit for Bunem
being Abraham, or Abraham being Bunem? And there is also the
tale of Rabbi Zussia who visualized himself in heaven; then,
he said, I won't be asked a question such as "why have you
not been Moses", but rather the following one: "why have not
you been Rabbi Zussya?" Thus, tension between conformity of
character (and values) and individuality is obvious. Though
Chiba Sensei was as powerful and dominant as he was, the
individuality of teachers and masters following him could
never be suppressed. We will never be able to be exactly
like Chiba Sensei, but this is, in my view, not a failure
but rather a challenging reality expressive of the
aforementioned tension between conformity and individuality.
We, all of us, have to find and express ourselves in Chiba
Sensei's world. I wish to end my essay with an advice I once got from a
senior master of our school: "Do exactly what I tell you to
do, precisely as I show you; but put into that some sparks
of your own". This is a wonderful advice and wisdom,
integrating the two forces – conformity and self-expression
– present in our tradition ; I need only find the way to
make it real and true in my Aikido-life. (Download
as WORD document)
A Dojo is born; a note on Tel Aviv Aikikai
A Dojo is born; a note on Tel Aviv Aikikai
By Amnon Tzechovoy,
May 2005
A birth of a Dojo is not unlike that of a
child. A child is born in a certain family, at a particular
moment, within a definite cultural milieu. There are to be
sure difficulties on the way; yet a new being does come
about at the end. Likewise a Dojo is born under certain
circumstances, and like a child – it grows. As one of the
first Aikido teachers in Israel, and a witness to the birth
of the Dojo at the TAU (Tel-Aviv University), I venture to
reflect upon some personal aspects of myself, and a
Dojo-birth in the country of
Israel.
I was twenty something when I became a ballet
dancer, a very real dancer with all that goes with it. But
then I stopped dancing, and also ceased ballet teaching.
This left me with a sort of vacuum. I was obviously
searching for something whose nature would take time to
unfold. A rather ordinary conference, with a huge number of
psychologists, became the occasion of my introduction to
Aikido. I came across an Aikido demonstration, not giving
much attention to it but still remembering the name of the
person in charge - Eitan Ben-Meir. Soon after I became part
of his Dojo. Eitan was my first Aikido teacher, and I was
his student for about 10 years (from 1986). There were no
more than 20 Aikido students in Israel at the time. Eitan
had just returned from Californa, where he had received
lessons from the students of Saito sensei. We effectively
belonged to the Iwama School, which had traditionally put
great emphasis on weapons.
Training sessions were very strict. Eitan was
a no nonsense teacher, very demanding, to say the least. The
group gathered around him was homogenous and idealistic. We
were all young and unattached to family and jobs, eager to
enhance the cause of Aikido. Indeed, soon after the dojo
began to flourish, other Israelis who returned from their
own training of Aikido abroad (for example, from Tokyo)
joined the Aikido scene in Israel.
Eitan left Israel. His departure created a
crisis in the Aikido community in the country. Indeed, we
were left without a teacher and without contacts with a
specific tradition within the Aikido world. There was no
Shihan to support us. Thus, eventually the group surrounding
our teacher dissipated. As no one had yet acquired enough
authority to replace Eitan, each member of the group began
looking for a source of support and guidance. Some turned to
Duran sensei, Seki sensei, and even Tamura sensei. This was
a good time for me to sample everything around. I myself was
all too eager to learn, and literally participated in every
seminar around. However, though eagerly interested, I sort
of could not see the wood from the trees. The more I became
exposed to the Aikido opportunities, the less I felt there
was any direction to what I was doing.
A rather accidental meeting with Chris Mooney
sensei changed my attitudes altogether. Soon after meeting
him I knew without doubt that here was a sensitive teacher
with a wealth of knowledge. His openness was truly striking.
I never felt he tried to hold back anything, and was soon
convinced that Chris accurately represented the school of
Chiba sensei, in particular his views and techniques. Though
not quite new to Aikido I felt yet again completely
enchanted, and this intoxication with Aikido intensified in
the course of my meetings with other teachers. My newly
adopted convictions led me to commit myself to a way and to
a teacher.
This feeling pressed on my soul, and though I
taught at Tel Aviv University sport center for several
years, I felt something needed to be done, urgently. And
soon afterwards I found myself in front of my students. I
told them my decision, deeply concerned about the way they
would react.
Soon after the meeting, most of the veteran
students left, as if they realized or presupposed that their
previous knowledge had suddenly become irrelevant, or
worthless. Some of the students, however, remained. Indeed,
these students have become the new avant garde of the newly
defined dojo. They were quick to adapt themselves to the new
school and soon began to 'talk' and think according to the
Chiba sensei school. Eventually the dojo attracted more
students and nowadays it counts 30 students, with 20 rather
active ones. In short, a baby-Aikido Dojo was born.
Now I should return to the home of that
child, and, in more details to the circumstances of his
birth. Israel in this respect is no usual place to be born
in. It is a country far removed from the major centers of
Aikido in the world. On top of this, the Israeli nation is
continually under a state of war. The child was born in the
suburb, not a very quiet one. Indeed, such circumstances of
a dojo-birth proved an opportunity to realize and assess
some of the values reflected in my practice of Aikido.
I vividly recall how in the first gulf war
(1991) I discovered some new dimensions to my attachment to
Aikido. The Dojo was located in the south of Tel-Aviv.
Missiles had just reached next door to my home near
Tel-Aviv. It was Monday evening, the time for our Aikido
session. All cultural events were cancelled; people were
invariably confined to their homes and families. Nobody was
to be seen on the streets. But what about the Aikido
session? Naturally, like the fate of other “cultural events”
it was bound to be postponed (or cancelled). However,
somehow I felt that Aikido as a way of life was no cultural
event of the ordinary type. One does not stop breathing or
being a father or a moral agent under hostile circumstances.
There was no need to cancel Aikido lessons. After all, we
were free to move around, to drive…. This was of course my
own conviction; most people did not share my impression, and
before dark Tel-Aviv became a ghost town. Nobody was there
in the streets but people like myself, ‘with a cause' (of
some sort).
I was in no hurry; waiting patiently in the
empty Dojo till one student came, with the gas mask we all
had to carry. We conducted the lesson the usual way, knowing
all too well that if there was a missile on its way to our
direction – we weren't in the least protected against
chemical weapons (people were generally instructed to enter
some sort of enclosed space, to protect themselves against
invasive chemical substances).
An experience of that kind revealed to me an
aspect regarding the nature of aikido. For me, Aikido is not
an amusement, nor is it a pastime to be dismissed off hand.
For the serious practitioner, I think, Aikido represents a
spiritual essence without which one cannot exist even
against apparently inconceivable odds. As it is an internal
property of our being, Aikido touches upon our innermost
sense of authenticity, upon our very self-esteem. Thus it
helps develop non-verbal comprehension of who we are. This
primordial sense of understanding is directly embodied and
imprinted into our mutual corporeal movements and gestures.
In this way, Aikido is like a baby or a child. Its practice
bypasses verbal behavior through the return to early
pre-verbal experiences. This is the psychological reality
behind my assertions (above) about the primordial
significance of Aikido for me (as a “way of life”). The
circumstances of the Golf-war opened my eyes to this reality
and meaning. Sometimes, indeed, harsh conditions and
realities reveal and expose one’s values and reality.
Others may experience Aikido in a different
way. I do not of course claim that there are no other ways
for one to acquire a proper and immediate sense of self. I
am pretty sure that what I am describing now can only be
seen or felt from 'within'. It seems to me that in my case,
the extreme conditions, which are part of our daily lives in
Israel, have somehow accentuated the role of Aikido for me.
This I will never be able to leave behind, as I have no
intention of going elsewhere.
The fact that Israel is far away from the
Aikido centers of the world affects the management of a
dojo, and in particular on the various decisions one has to
make upon embarking on the long path of many years of
practice. There is a problem in dedicating oneself to one
specific school. As one wishes to learn even more, there are
no clear and cut routes to pave the way. When there is no
Shihan around, the encounters with teachers are rather brief
and not always fulfilling. Thus, the socializing process to
the Aikido world is generally lacking. This applies to
etiquette – rules that apply to relationships with a teacher
but also those that apply to the practicing session. There
is no sure and safe way for one to become aware of his or
her weaknesses. For several years I have involved myself in
long hours of watching various video cassettes. This I do in
between visits to Europe, where I tend to take seminars. It
happened to me more than once that I found out about
mistakes not previously noticed due to lack of external
observation. Naturally, considering the investment of time
and money in the process, I was often rather frustrated.
Despite of all those difficulties, I am now
at a point of being helped, and feel very grateful for that.
I have located the teachers who would not only teach me (and
teaching is what they are meant to do) but also support me.
They are willing to come to Israel to teach my students, and
here is yet another stage of progress, not only for myself.
In Israel today there are various groups
affiliated to the various strands of Aikikai, and our dojo
that just lately affiliated to Birankai Continental Europe,
has grown up from babyhood to a rather independent young
child.
Aikido and personal
change
Aikido and personal
change
Anyone doing AIKIDO sooner or later realizes that
emotional qualities are involved in the process;
indeed, personal change takes place in that space
created between persons practicing on the mat, again
and again doing the same exercise. There is
evidently more than a grain of self-improvement in
Aikido. In this paper I with to examine some
relevant elements in this process from my own
personal perspective.
Several days ago my son turned to me and asked "Dad,
who is the strongest Aikido instructor in the entire
world?". After I hesitantly replied, he returned
with yet another questions: "who is your teacher?".
I said : "Chiba Sensei". The name obviously rang no
bell, and he promptly continued with "did you ever
beat him?". "No" I concluded. "And, will you ever
beat him?", my son retorted. "No", I said "I would
never beat him".
This exchange may first appear somewhat trivial, and
yet my son sensitively touched upon one of the
essential foci in Aikido: the particular harmonious
relationships that its discipline entails. This
harmonious softness is there at first sight when we
look at the very name Aikido. Indeed, many articles
on Aikido do emphasize “harmony” as the
quintessential characteristic of this discipline.
This concept of harmony, awasse, implies
togetherness, openness to others . a kind of
cooperation which this martial art brings to the
fold of its disciples.
Strictly egotistic drives and personal rivalry and
conflicts are part and parcel of the Aikido
universe. For Aikido practitioners, harmony is
desirable, but not easy to find. The
Aikidoistic world, so to speak, is typified by many
rifts, many rivalries. I shall soon attempt to spell
out the sources of these negative sentiments.
The argument I wish to develop consists of two
parts; the first deals with the personal traits of
those practicing Aikido. The second part touches
upon the nature of Aikido per se.
Who actually is doing Aikido? There is no doubt that
a person dedicating so many hours to Aikido is doing
it not merely for 'technical' reasons. There is
obviously something that goes deeper. Instructions
directed throughout any class clarify that they
rarely deal with sheer performance. There is nothing
there that relates merely to the angle of the arm or
leg. Instructions by and large aim to the
person in training, and to a rather total change in
him or in her – that should take place in the next
minute to come, next year or much later than that.
"Be calm and composed", "loosen your muscles", "flow
with the movement", and also the immortal "do not
object". These instructions, so often repeated
throughout lessons, point to the major aim of the
person involved in practicing Aikido. Ultimately –
and this is my main thesis - the goal is
transformation, personal change.
Here then comes my basic proposition about the
connection between the observation made above (about
the essential disharmony current among – and within!
– Aikido practitioners) and their choice of Aikido
as a primary investment in life. I suggest that
people practicing Aikido respond to primary
unfulfilled needs driving practitioners to closure
and fulfillment. In other words, considering the
actual instructions given in the course of a typical
Aikido lesson, and the non-harmonious initial
condition of an Aikido community, Aikido
practitioners seek (consciously or unconsciously)
solutions towards harmony, a sense of solidarity,
and cooperation. Aikido is a martial art, but
nevertheless it introduces an element not to be
found in any other art of its kind. It offers
battles with no winners and no losers. One of the
implications of the basic Aikido-characteristic of
no-winners-no-losers is that hierarchy within the
Aikido community is essentially irrelevant. For
indeed, how can one decide who is up and who is
down? No matter how high you are in the hierarchy,
you are never really 'better' than anyone else, for
there is no criterion to make such a judgment.
Indeed, Aikido never fosters “competition”, and is
thus an unusual martial art. I would classify
Aikido as a 'soft' martial art, without any motive
for hurting others in any way.
At this point I wish to return to the harmony
mentioned in the opening paragraph. This harmony
prevails as long as no violence is involved in the
process. And this, of course, is a major value in
Aikido. The following questions arise: Why is it so?
Is it a constitutive value, or could Aikido exist
without this principle? What Aikido philosophy lead
to?
We should not forget, not even for a split second,
that human beings are aggressive, by their very
nature, even 'evil'. As far as psychoanalysis is
concerned, aggressiveness prevails in each and every
one of us. In fact, it is rather easy to demonstrate
how the primal impulse leaves a devastating mark.
The difficulty here is to overcome the primal
impulse. Side by side with destructiveness we
have constructiveness and also creativeness.
Destructiveness can impair or even destroy
relationships, whereas its opposite allows for
growth and creativity. Negative emotions might be
envy, greed, hatred, cowardice or even vengefulness.
Each one of us has at one point or another such
emotions and they reside in us alongside more
'noble' emotions. As suggested above, even more than
others, Aikido practitioners exemplify the need to
overcome aggression and destructive rivalry grounded
in the human nature.
Morihei Ueshiba created a cohesive structure that
enables us to continually confront the destructive
elements in men and women, so that we eventually
become better human beings. often we fail, but
perhaps failure is the engine that feeds continuity.
This dynamics is created from the very basic
structure of couples/dyads. As simple as it may
seem, this basic component of AIKIDO is what makes
it so absolutely unique. No matter with whom we
practice, we always strive to master our inner self
towards an improvement manifested in the ability to
tune ourselves to the other, and also in being more
co-operative. This quality of tuning into another
person is what pulls us away from narcissistic modes
of action and allows the evolution of mutual
reciprocity.
There is no coincidence therefore that in O
Sensei's dojo there is a sign saying that
'disturbing your partner is totally forbidden'.
Harmony in AIKIDO is a regulative feature. It aims
towards development of the kind that allows us to
overcome destructive forces. However, as every
teacher knows, some students do not work
harmoniously. They are not 'flowing' or they are not
'soft' enough. They nonetheless continue practicing
and this what challenges us as teachers.
Naturally, teachers run the danger of
resorting to destructive forces against such
students. Our ego is put to the test by those who
are actually there to attack us or at least check
'how good we are'. We are aware being tested but by
virtue of the Aikido tools we do not let primal
impulses dictate our responses. Surely, we might as
well have some scars from childhood, some problems
that might encourage us to go the 'wrong way', but
with Aikido –a healing method – we are less likely
to respond violently or even in a remotely
aggressive fashion. My own conviction is that we are
here to utilize that healing qualities of AIKIDO. It
is not mere accident that made us come to Aikido.
Once we are there, we eventually learn to be
grateful of AIKIDO.

This
announcement was hanging on the wall at O Sensei Dojo
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