Crush! Biff! Slam! Bam! Twist, pin, wham! WHAM! Two old bears went at it like cubs this morning. Both in their seventies and one a hachi-dan (八段: eight degree black belt), these two guys tore up the mat.

I’ve seen quite a bit of very hard Aikido since I came to Honbu but I had never seen this sort of torque, balance, weight and muscle applied so aggressively before. They were friendly enough, in a “thank you for returning my eyeball” sort of way, but it wasn’t in the slightest bit soft or fuzzy.

For the last several weeks my partner, a nana-dan (七段: seventh degree black belt), has been helping me to relax during the execution of waza and today was a continuation of that training. However, with the bear-fight going on next door, relaxing was hard! The fact that my partner would occasionally toss a friendly kidney punch into the melee was also a bit distracting. The problem with being distracted is that my partner would take advantage of that and, without speeding up or changing his technique significantly, pile-drive my head into the mat.

So, I tried to keep myself from being splattered, I tried to relax and maybe learn something from the bruisers too. The big guys did a lot of nasty joint work. As an example, I saw one kote gaeshi (小手返し: Wrist return) end up with a very jujutsu flavored arm-bar, one leg across uke’s chest and the other planted across his throat. Morote-tori was fun to watch too. Uke applied a nasty yonkyo and used it try to force nage into the ground shaking and jerking nage all the while. Nage responded with a skull-buster kokyu-ho. In the midst of all that there were a few wicked low kicks but they seemed, to me, rather like lace doilies on a lace tablecloth — just a bit too much of a “good thing”…

Throughout all that they rolled or fell on us a few times — only once was it an accident. Afterward I had the great pleasure of informing two men who are so much farther beyond me technically than they are beyond me in years (both almost twice my age) that they were using too much muscle. They both laughed.

“Don’t sneak out like a thief! Say goodbye to the people at the door!”
–Ueda Shihan Mieken Aikidokai during children’s class

My teacher in Ise frequently instructed children in his classes on more than just Aikido. He let the kids know that they should greet people appropriately. At the dojo that meant “hello” and “goodbye” were as much a part of practice as ukemi. He insisted that the Aikidoka he trained should give up their seats on the bus to the elderly and infirm, to give way on the sidewalk for others and, in general, to be polite. Greetings, aisatsu in Japanese, are a part of daily training — so much so that it is clear that the aisatsu form an integral part of the Do of this art.

A shout of “Hey!” may bring a smile to the face of a friend or make an irritated co-worker scowl. The energy and appropriateness of a greeting is similar to energy and appropriateness in training. A hard, fast strike might be enjoyed by one partner while a similar strike might annoy another. Establishing the energy level from “onegaishimasu” makes for good training. A friendly greeting to one’s partner is often enough to let both sides know how far practice can go.

That said, the importance of aisatsu in Aikido extends beyond the doors of the dojo. After our shoes are on and we walk our path out into the world, our greetings establish space. Maai, is set with friends and strangers alike by greetings. Whether ones culture encourages bows, handshakes or a kiss on the cheek, greetings bring people face to face. A simple “Good morning” is a powerful form of awase. Without proper awase there is little chance of establishing the musubi of conversation.

Maai, awase, musubi are all core elements of budo in general so one might say that aisatsu are integral to all martial arts. However, the intent of greeting is, if only for a moment, to bring two people together into harmony. As harmony between people is the goal of our art, it is clear that aisatsu can be considered a kihon waza of Aikido. So everyone who greets friends, family, neighbors and strangers with the positive intent of making a connection is, in a small way, spreading Aikido in the world.

There are times when bumping into uke during a technique is exactly what is required to make it work (e.g. an ikkyo variation with a hip-check). Usually however a collision is the sign of a mistake. Entering too sharply during irimi nage and clonking into uke may be the grossest such encounter that I cause regularly but there are other, more subtle, collisions that are just as improper.

For example, when responding to a cross-hand grab, nage may move their grabbed arm in vertical circle. Near the point where nage’s wrist crosses with uke’s, there may be a slight stopping point. This is a collision as well. Often, nage can “power through” the collision and take uke down anyway. In doing so the aiki element is lost (caveat: this is my current understanding and is subject to change).

A different sort of collision may happen in shihonage. Before the tenkan there is point where nage must extend uke’s arm as a bridge. With a strong, balanced uke the technique may end abruptly with a feeling similar to reaching the end of taught rope. Collision!

So, what to do? For each technique the fix is going to be a bit different but the method of finding the solution is shared. With a patient partner slowly play with the technique. Think of the collision points as speed bumps. When you hit them, go over them slowly while feeling for a way around the bump. Look for where uke’s balance goes and remember that the way around may start well before the bump itself! Try to find a spot or range of motion that takes you past without bumping. Keep watching your own balance and that of uke. When you have found your solution slowly increase the tempo. Repeat.

Here are the pics from my trip to Iwama. This is not an attempt to determine the LPU (Lowest Publish Unit) of Aikido related stuff but rather more of my typical sloth. I’ve always been slow developing images, apparently, this is still true even though they don’t need developing anymore.

Inakoshi Sensei is aware of my recent focus on weapons training. I’ve been spending a lot of after practice mat-time working on disarming techniques (well beyond quips and opening one-liners). When the Japan-Myanmar Aikido Federation organized a weekend of weapons in Iwama, he invited me. So, on Saturday morning I packed my bags (badly — forgot my hakama!) and met up with him and Kamitani-san at the Ueno JR Station.

We took the Joban line (常磐線) bound for Ibaraki prefecture. The express doesn’t stop in Iwama so getting on the regular was important and they don’t run very frequently. Also, there are two Joban lines — the blue line was the one that we wanted but I had to rediscover that too. An hour and a half later, at the other end our ride, the dojo was just a ten minute walk from the station and we passed the Aiki Shrine on the way.

At the Iwama station we met up with several others going to the seminar. Our weapons bags stood out like sign-posts announcing to the locals, “Hello I am an Aikido Geek, I’m here to scare the birds…” Nobody gave us a second glance.

At the dojo, we all signed in and changed into keikogi. A quick blessing at the shrine was followed by two hours with Inagaki Shihan. Training was out in the field behind the dojo and the focus was very basic jo suburi and awase. We squished and slipped now and again in the mud left from the morning’s showers. Our shouts of “Eh!!! and “Hahp!!!” really did scare a few birds.

The first seven or so suburi (素振り: striking practice) came back to my arms and back quite readily. Their names and numbers, however, were a complete mess in my head despite the cramming I did before-hand (thanks Autrelle!). What surprised me the most was the Happo Giri (八方切り: 8 direction cut) had a sort of spinning step with which I was completely unfamiliar. I was left swishing in the wrong direction from around the third cut. It was, however, when we got to awase (合わせ:blending) that I really began to feel completely out of practice. Establishing proper maai (間合い: spacing) just didn’t happen. Strikes and parries didn’t connect much less blend. It was mortifying! Kamitani-san has promised me that he is willing to switch from swords to do more jo work after class.

I was assigned to help with preparing the evening meal so after the first class, I showered and went to the kitchen to chop veggies, grate other veggies, chop more veggies and kill mosquitoes (finally, a real use for suburi!). Around 6:30, I got permission to run off and change for evening class which was not part of the seminar. That class was the regular Saturday evening general training at the dojo. I really wanted to get in a few falls. The folks in the kitchen seemed to think I was being way too serious since class and dinner were scheduled to start at the same time but they told me to have fun so off I went.

Keke, one of the uchi-deshi from Myanmar, lent me a hakama so I didn’t feel naked and I rolled around with the Iwama folks. It felt foreign! It has been about 15 years since I did Iwama flavored Aikido. At that time we did kihon waza (基本技: basic techniques) and almost never kino-nagare (気の流れ: flowing techniques). In fact, I don’t recall hearing the phrase “ki no nagere” until many years later. At any rate, the Sensei (I forgot his name! ) repeatedly stopped me and told me that I have no sense of the difference between basic and flowing. Clearly! I have no recollection of having techniques broken down quite the way he was demonstrating. The point was clear and I get it on an intellectual level but my body has its habits. I tried very hard to replicate what was being demonstrated but don’t think that I succeeded.

One big technical difference that stands out most in my mind is that the Iwama Sensei stated that for morote-dori kokyunage (諸手取り呼吸投げ: throw done when ones forearm is grabbed by two hands) there is no “martially valid” tenkan variation! Since I practice a tenkan variation of that every day (really) I found that very interesting! It seems that there are some very strong, differing opinions about how things are “supposed to be done” all in the same house.

After practice I didn’t change out of my gi. Even so, I was welcomed into the kitchen with applause and beer. At least the beer was deserved (IMHO). The food was excellent and the conversation fun. There was a trio of Italian guys (they actually sang “O Sole Mio”), a German fellow, a Costariqueno, a woman from Taiwan, two uchi deshi from Myanmar and Erica (an American who I met during her year at Honbu) and the Japanese members of the dojo and organization. Afterward, there was much singing and laughing. I abused “Me and Bobby McGee” right after Erica did a stellar rendition of a Carpenters tune… my timing sucked ALL day!

The next morning started early with a big breakfast followed by swords and more swords! My confidence came back and it was enormous fun. Again the names and numbers of the suburi and awase were long gone but my body remembered how to use a sword. Even the awase were much smoother than the previous day. Once again, Inagaki sensei demonstrated enormous power and subtlety. Simply put: he was brilliant.

Sword class ended and we went almost immediately to the next taijutsu class. Once again, I was out of my comfort zone but this time reveling in it. Ideas new to me regarding foot alignment and hand position will now join the large grab bag of things that I must add to my practice. All in all the even was a great success and I look forward to going back and learning more. Perhaps next time, I will be able be able to absorb more.

Ninomiya Sensei once again schooled me using the Jedi art of mysterious explanations. This time, however, his explanation sank in and I was able to grasp what he meant. The old theory vs practice problem is biting me so I have only partially been able to implement what he struggled to teach me, however, I can communicate the gist in words. Maybe.

Sensei repeatedly stopped me, sometimes with a nasty reversal, while I was trying to do kotegaeshi (小手返し: wrist return). He indicated that I should stop using a surface or plane when doing the technique but rather use a point. Um, what?!?! Over and over again he repeated, “Not a surface! A point! Use a point!” I tried digging my thumb into a point on the back of his hand and he laughed at me. Yes, it can hurt but its not the point he meant. I tried to imitate exactly the hand, thumb grip that he was using — no dice.

It took many demonstrations and repetitions before the dimmest glimmerings of a clue finally began to light my way. The concept that he was trying to teach was that after the kuzushi (崩し: unbalance) any movement of the hand through which the technique is being applied reduces the effectiveness of the technique, takes more time and requires more muscle. Imagine you have already unbalanced your uke. Your weight extends down through your arm and rests on that of your uke preventing them from moving too much with the kinder and gentler trap that is “extension”. According to Ninomiya Sensei, uke’s hand should remain at THAT POINT in space when the kotegaeshi is applied. Any movement (“drawing” a surface or plane in the air) may allow uke to regain their balance and escape. So, maintain uke’s hand at the final point of the kuzushi and, ever-so-gently, apply your palm to the back of their hand for the rotation. Kerplunk!

It sounds simple (doesn’t it always?) but it turns out that I have doggedly repeated a variation in which I take uke’s balance and then sweep their hand along an arc to drop uke into “third point”. That can work but as Sensei demonstrated to me it takes a lot more effort and more time thus giving uke more opportunity to regain balance.

Hard training and sparing is fine. They are useful and I strongly believe they should be a part of Aikido training. However, before entering into that sort of training there needs to be an understanding of expectations. As an example, if one party is moving slowly, trying to reproduce the form of what their teacher has demonstrated then it is clear that sparring is NOT appropriate.

Doshu was gone today and Yokota Sensei substituted for him. That always adds a bit of fun to the morning as Yokota Sensei’s take on Aikido is fascinating and always a bit outside my comfort zone. Very cool! One of Sensei’s students invited me to be his partner so I was looking forward to a vigorous, educational class. The guy’s connection was very firm and his techniques quite hard. Technically he is very solid. I noticed immediately that he had a tendency to turn most techniques into hip throws or trips while finishing with fast, hard elbow pins. It was his elbow work, I think, that caused our practice to degenerate into wrestling — almost a fight.

The guy locked my elbows way too hard so I began using an extension “trick” that I had learned from the old guys. Simply, I maintained “unbendable arm” extension and curvature whenever I felt as though he as about to try to hyper-extend or crank. He noticed and, quite politely, asked if my elbows were injured — very cool. I agreed that they were and so expected that he would mellow his arm-bars a bit. He did not. In fact, he started cranking harder — not cool.

So, when I felt as though he was about to crank I would slip his pins. The problem here was that when I slipped his pin his first reaction was generally to try for a head-lock or choke. At first I pointed out that this wasn’t Aikido but it had no impact. There was a point when I thought he was finished doing whatever he was doing so I went on to my next attack and he floored me with something random then grabbed me in a headlock. I fought for position, kept my throat clear and mounted his hips (I used to wrestle). At which point he asked if I had had enough… WTF?

When we “settled down” for kokyu dosa the guy kicked me in the nuts as I threw him. At this point I verbally called him on his behavior. “You wanna go,” he asked? How off balance does one have to be to turn a breathing exercise into a fist fight? I still have no idea what his problem was.

Class ended. There was no final episode. A couple of witnesses asked what was up and one even asked why we had been fighting. It was not a fight, I maintained calm enough that I never tried to harm him and for his part he *mostly* stuck to the techniques demonstrated by Sensei. By that definition it was not a fight but it was too damned close. Hard training even sparring have a place in Aikido. However, that place is NOT during a formal class.