Musings from the Mat: Connect the Dots of Your Life

“You can’t connect the dots of your life looking forwards, you can only connect to them looking backwards. Trust that the dots will somehow connect in your future. Trust in something: your gut, your life, karma, destiny, whatever. Believe that the dots will connect down the road giving you the confidence to follow your heart. Travel off the well-worn path and towards a path with true meaning.  That will make all the difference.” Steve Jobs

 What is valuable about starting an Aikido practice?  One of my longtime students described it well: “The Japanese martial art of Aikido fascinated me. I thought I would find self-defense and fitness, but it has filled many other needs that I didn’t’ expect.  I joined a supportive and diverse community, made new friends, and welcomed a spiritual exploration grounded in human cooperation, conflict and resolution.”

So how does one start an Aikido practice? An early mentor advised me how to approach my own training. “To learn something new, you have to go out on a limb; try something you’ve never done. It’s a risk.” “Oh Swell,” I thought.  But he was right. I still remember my first days on the mat. So many considerations: where to put my feet, when to bow, where to roll, and how to survive making so many mistakes.  Oh and ‘how to like myself’!  What I found initially overwhelming, I learned to embrace over time.

This summer, we’ve welcomed a variety of new students to Two Cranes. “How do I start training?” is the most common question. The ritual goes like this: step on the mat that first day, feel the tatami on your feet. Next, show up for basic classes. After a few months of training, if you like the routine, then get involved in the ranking system: take an Aikido test. How does one prepare? First, study the basic techniques that are covered in the Introductory Series. Ask a senior student for help before or after class.  Practice 10 minutes a day at home. Connect the dots.

When I first saw Aikido in motion in the late 1970’s, I was inspired by the elegance of the spinning, swirling movements. It was compelling to watch bodies effortlessly exchange positions, tumble to the floor in wheel-like shapes, stand up again and start over. I loved to wrap my gi belt around my waist, bow onto the mat, and try to keep up with the lesson plan, but I had no idea how people progressed in rank until someone advised me to show up every day for class—and that it would make sense later. For many reasons, I feel fortunate to have begun my formal training with Mary Heiny Sensei. She taught the techniques in English and Japanese with both humor and serious attention. In every class she stressed that Aikido was a path of personal growth. I appreciated the way she approached the ranking process at her dojo. Because Aikido is a non-competitive martial art, she found it unnecessary to emphasize failure or deficiency in a public platform.  “We have plenty of opportunities to learn from our failure in our lives.” Mary felt that the Aiki examination process should offer students the opportunity to highlight their unique skills and abilities and wrestle with their struggles. In her mind, the goal is to lead a student towards a personal realization of the self.

And it happened like that. Three months after my first day of practice, a senior student at the dojo invited me out after class and explained the testing process.  “It’s time to take your fifth kyu exam.”  Given my history with testing fear in high school and college, that made me nervous. Training was fine, but not the other part.  “Don’t worry”, he said. “Attend the required number of classes—you’ve already done that—, complete a mock exam, and set a date.  In our lineage, once Sensei encourages you to test, she’s already observed your ability to execute the required techniques successfully. The “test” is the process of training that includes a mock (practice) exam where you show that you have a grasp of the principles and techniques.  The public demo invites you to share your practice with the community.  Preparing to demonstrate is just as important as the actual demonstration itself.

The demonstration process is carefully structured to ensure steady progress through the basics.  The first test includes the five most fundamental standing techniques. Each subsequent level becomes more challenging, with a focus on breath control, energy awareness, sword strikes, and knife takeaways.  I don’t remember all my demos, but I do remember the feeling of the ones I nailed and the ones I tanked.  No one needed to confirm my success or my deficiencies.  Learning how to fail and recover is equally important as learning how to succeed.

You can’t fail a demonstration of who you are at any given moment.  At Two Cranes, we celebrate each student, and acknowledge the bonding that occurs within the entire community during the testing process.  We acknowledge how we are all connected as learners.  Everyone’s experience is unique, and we support, surprise, and inspire each other.  As O Sensei said, "our practice is intended to help us join with the universal spirit and fulfill our divine mission on this planet.”  Connect the dots.

Kimberly