Strong

Cognard Hanshi said, “You train not to kill.”

That is the purpose of Aikido. That’s what I train to do.

The only fight is inside myself. O-Sensei Morihei Ueshiba said, “True victory is victory over oneself.” It’s only, and always me against me. I overcome myself, not others. I’m my greatest opponent, my greatest enemy.

When someone attacks with the bokuto (wooden sword) or with their body, Ishibashi Sensei said I get in position so that “I don’t kill.” I hold my position. I choose to let the attacker pass or end the attack. I create that space. I give the attacker the choice to take the strike or take the fall. The attacker can still choose to kill me, too. I die with honor. The attacker can choose the same. We both choose. That’s the training, both inside and outside ourselves.

I’m compassionate. I’m merciful. Compassion and mercy are meaningless, unless my actions have consequences, have gravity. They are meaningless, unless I’m strong, that I train to be strong. Otherwise, I use compassion and mercy to defend, because I have no other choice, no recourse. If I defend, I can be defeated. When I defend, I have no power. I’m not at cause in the matter. I cannot make a difference for anyone, including me.

Over 35 years in Aikido, I train my mind, body, and spirit to be present, to end the attack. It’s one time. There is no fight. In budo, martial arts, I create my Aikido technique from mushin (the empty mind). I create myself from nothing, from mushin, from the quiet inside, from my strength inside. I just train for my compassion, my mercy to be meaningful.

In Aikido, the late Mizukami Sensei said, “Wait it out. Enter the attack. Take a glancing blow if you have to. You’re not going to get away scot-free. It’s one time.” I take a risk, take a glancing blow for what’s meaningful to me. The possibility of having a meaningful life. That’s strong.

Mizukami Sensei taught both Ishibashi Sensei and me. Ishibashi Sensei said, “The purpose of Aikido is to release your fear.” When the bigger stronger man attacks, I get under the attack, get in the distance, get in the danger. That’s the safest place to be. I hold my position. Make my timing. I open up. I apply the Aikido technique on myself, not on the attacker. I overcome myself, not them.

I let go my fear inside as the little scared boy that I’m not good enough. Although my fear inside never completely disappears, every time I enter the attack, enter what I fear, I let go more of my fear inside me. I’m quiet inside. My choices are meaningful. That’s strong.

Ishibashi Sensei taught, “Match your center with the attacker’s center.” That’s not just physical, not just technique. When I match my center with the attacker’s center, I make that connection inside with them, with their heart. I try to change their heart. To open their heart, like mine. There is no fight. That’s magokoro, sincerity of the heart. That’s strong.

Every July for 17 years, Dad and I went fishing in Kenai, Alaska until he passed away several years later. When I was a little boy, Dad scared me to my soul. I feared inside that I was not good enough for Dad, for anyone including me. I was Sandan (3rd degree black belt). Dad was the weakened old man, who worked so hard for his entire life to provide for the family. Sitting next to Dad on the fishing boat on the Kenai River, he was under my watch. The past was the past. Lady MacBeth said, “What’s done cannot be undone.” Now, I was Dad’s Protector. I loved him. He loved me, too. That was strong.

Strong is making the connection inside with others. Strong is changing people’s hearts. Strong is changing my heart, too. We open our hearts. We are strong. We can all make the world a better place.

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Photo: iStock

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