At the conclusion of my Nidan (2nd degree black belt) Aikido test, I had randori. In randori, multiple attackers come to grab me. I throw and evade the attackers for the duration. I would lose by design. Inevitably, all attackers would converge upon me. They would all get me. This is not some Bruce Lee movie. And I am not Bruce Lee.
During the previous hour, I had executed one-on-one Aikido technique for empty hand and weapons attacks. I was fucking tired. Randori lasts about 2 or 3 minutes. Still, it would seem like 2 or 3 hours.
For randori, Ishibashi Sensei selected 5 black belts, all bigger and stronger than me. I’m 5’ 3”. So that’s not hard to do. Immediately, I thought, “Oh fuck!” I anticipated 3 attackers, at most 4. Each additional attacker makes randori exponentially, not just incrementally harder. I was afraid. No shit.
Aikido testing for the late Mizukami Sensei wasn’t about perfect technique, about what I knew. Sensei was Old School. Testing was about character, resilience, about what’s inside me. How much could I take, when I thought that I couldn’t go any further? For Sensei, Aikido was about heart, what’s inside. I got it.
I really didn’t fear failure. Rather, I feared that I might actually be great, that I was good enough to be Nidan. That I was good enough. Mizukami Sensei already saw that in me. Sensei taught me: Throw one person at a time. When I was afraid, Sensei said, “That’s when your mind is the most calm.” Everything quiet inside. Practice mushin, the empty mind. Invent myself from nothing.
Ishibashi Sensei clapped his hands. It was on. I threw the outside attacker to my far right. I let the next attacker pass. I threw the next attacker coming to my left. I threw each attacker, one at a time. I kept moving forward. Eventually, all 5 black belts collapsed upon me. I was done. Ishibashi Sensei clapped his hands, again. I had gone farther than I thought that I could. I passed my Nidan Test.
I was greater than I thought I could be. My fear of being great was truth. I was humble and honored. I had nothing, but mad love and respect to the late Mizukami Sensei. He saw the greater-than version of me that I didn’t yet see.
I’ve trained for 35 years in Aikido. I’m Godan (5th degree black belt). I still have a lot to work on, to refine, and reinvent. Just train. It’s not like I have to get somewhere. I work on being the greater man, the greater person. What Mizukami Sensei had wanted for me.
I loved someone. I feared inside that I was not good enough. I said, “I love you.” She loved me, but wasn’t in love with me. I wasn’t what she wanted. I wasn’t good enough. I knew that inside, too. My fear was truth. I let it go.
I have nothing to do with what goes inside someone else. I have a say in goes on inside me. I love myself for who I am and forgive myself for who I’m not. I work on myself, not on others. That’s all I can do. Just train.
In the Japanese aesthetic wabi-sabi: There is beauty in imperfection. There is beauty in my imperfection. There is beauty in your imperfection. I accept who I am and who I’m not. I dared to fail bravely. I dared to be me. I failed bravely, too. Everything quiet inside me.
I prevail and fail bravely in life. I live with honor. At least, I try to. I love and forgive mine own self. Keep moving forward. I keep my heart open. My heart is true – magokoro. Just train.
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Photo credit: Uriel Soberanes on Unsplash
