Having finally reached shodan (black belt), I must confess that it feels very much like being a beginner again, and this has stimulated some reflection on the original beginnings of my aikido journey (this lifetime, anyway).
A friend recently asked me how long it took to get my black belt, and I was a little stymied. I could have said, "about 20 minutes," that's how long the test took, but instead I replied that I had about six years on the mat. I didn't explain that those six years were split into two blocks of roughly three years with a gap of eight years in the middle (now we're up to 14 years). Nor did I tell him about attending a few classes ten years earlier (25 years), and that doesn't count the original inspiration that came perhaps a year prior to that (half my life).
I first learned about aikido when I read "The Way of the Peaceful Warrior" by Dan Millman. The book had been loaned to me by my college roommate, and there was a scene where the (90 - year old) protagonist subdued three muggers in short order by using their energy against them. This appealed to me, as did the fact that it was part of a lifestyle that the book inspired me to emulate, and so I began a quest to discover more about aikido.
I was attending university in L. A. at the time, and I turned to my martial arts-loving roommate for advice (the one who loaned me the book). He had trained in various styles from childhood on, in fact had even trained briefly at Steven Segal's (aikido) dojo. But he didn't think that was the way for me to begin, and instead found a seidokan studio nearby that he thought might offer a more gentle introduction. We took a few classes, but I found it very confusing (and the tumbling made me very dizzy!) and soon gave up. It wasn't my time.
Some years later, after I returned to Canada and settled in London, enquiries revealed a new aikido dojo nearby, and with great excitement, I went to introduce myself and observe a class.
I was ready this time.
I commenced training and was elated to discover an athletic ability I thought I didn't have. Although I had been a very active runner and swimmer, I never pursued the traditional 'glory' sports like hockey and football as I felt awkward and geeky - we often believe thing about ourselves that aren't true - and thus made the assumption that I wasn't athletic. But after the first few months on the mat, at times painful, confusing and discouraging, I found myself flying across the room with great joy and a modicum of situational awareness.
This is the truth about aikido: it changes people. You see this all the time at the dojo as kamaes (ready stance) expand and 'aikido smiles' emerge on the faces of aikidoka when they catch a throw and ride it like a surfer carving a 30 foot wave off the North Shore.
Inevitably, I began to change too. Aikido has helped me to be more open, giving and expressive, improving all the relationships in my life. It has saved me when times were difficult by helping me 'surrender', 'enter in' and keep moving forward. I have learned to fall down and get up again, to the extent that, at times, I can't even tell the difference.
How does aikido do this? It reveals the truth: the truth about you, your partners and the world around you. And faced with the truth, you have the choice of whether or not to change. Or put another way, when faced with change, you have an opportunity to decide what the truth is.
So I'm happy about being a beginner again, for I know that the invasion of the future through change is inevitable, and it will forever render me a beginner again. In fact, it's the only thing I can count on.
That, and aikido.
"Change is the way the future invades our lives" - Alvin Toffler
Kevin Love, c. 2009
© 2021. This work is licensed under a CC-BY-NC-SA 4.0 license. If you’d like to support my work, please consider a donation...
Commentaires