Several years ago, Mizukami Sensei invited me to attend his friend-Sensei’s 20th Dojo Anniversary Dinner in Van Nuys. The two had both trained at our Dojo back in the day. That was way before my time. I drove so Sensei could drink at the dinner party. I don’t drink. Consequently. Sensei often asked me for rides. No big deal. Besides, I just loved spending time together. We always had fun.
The dinner was cool. I met a lot of other Senseis, who had trained at our Dojo back in the day. It was a fun evening. The food was good, too. The conversations were not entirely about Aikido. That was a bonus.
When we left the restaurant, I programmed my car’s navigation system to take us to Sensei’s house. However, I didn’t follow the navigation system directions correctly, so I kept missing the on-ramp to the 101 Freeway, about 4 times.
Sensei smiled, “Jon, can’t you just follow the damn directions?”
I laughed, “Apparently not.”
We both laughed out loud. I finally made it on the freeway on the fifth try.
No, that wasn’t a big deal. In fact, it was hysterical. Yet, had Sensei said that to me 10 years before that, I would have gone straight into my head, “Man, I suck!” This greater-than version driving in my car, was the one, who forgave making mistakes. This version just loved Sensei, too.
We don’t always know what our next greater-than versions will be, how those versions show up or “show out.” Sensei always said, “Just train.” I really didn’t have to get anywhere. I could be present. I had faith in myself, being Sensei was my guide.
Sometimes, while training toward my next greater-than version, I might imagine what that would look like, what that version would be. Occasionally, my greater-than version would emerge as expected. Yet more often, the unforeseen occurs, the surprise revealed.
In Aikido, I trained intensely under Sensei’s guidance, being as present as I could be. I disciplined my mind, body, and spirit. Ironically, in doing so, I was most free. Free to be me. Whatever version I invented was okay. That version was okay with Sensei. I was okay with me, too.
Graciously, Sensei never asked me to be like him. He’d say, “Jon, make it work for you.” So, I made Aikido work for me. I trained to make myself work. I accepted whatever I achieved and failed. My greater-than version was actually good enough. That version became my new Zero. Then I just train. I put in the time, put in the work, and grind it out.
Sensei continually reminded, “Have no preconceived notions.” Empty mind – mushin. Create from nothing. Pretend that I didn’t know what the attack would be, a punch, or grab to the shoulder. Awase, match up with the attacker. Throw: “Everything is one time.”
Over the years, long after Sensei passed away, I got that “no preconceived notions” meant keeping my mind open, to create my next greater-than version from my Zero, my starting point.
In the bigger picture, I keep an open mind, keep an open body in training. It was more important to Sensei, who I was outside the Dojo, out in the real world. That mattered. I carry that practice forward, as well.
In the greater picture, train with an open mind. Be open to life occurring. “Making it work” is being as authentic as I can be. So, I practice and practice more. “Just train.” That’s Sensei’s comforting voice in my head. Amen. Amen.
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