In Aikido, the bokken (wooden sword) strike comes to the top of my head; the punch comes straight to my face. The late Mizukami Sensei said, “Wait it out. Take a glancing blow if you have to. It’s one time.” Ishibashi Sensei said, “The safest place to be is under the attack, under the sword.”
The safest place to be is under what I fear. There, I choose who to be, what I do. I’m present. In mushin, the empty mind. Under the attack, under what I fear, I reinvent myself. That’s the training, the purpose of Aikido. Just saying.
O-Sensei Morihei Ueshiba said, “Opponents confront us continually, but actually there is no opponent there. Enter deeply into an attack and neutralize it as you draw that misdirected force into your own sphere.” Under the attack, under what I fear, I match with my fear; be one with it. It’s only me against me. Ishibashi Sensei says, “Apply the (Aikido) technique to yourself.” O-Sensei said, “True victory is victory over oneself.”
In the bigger picture, I choose who I’m going to be in any given moment, whether that’s the 250-pound dude coming to punch my face in or whether I want to ask a woman I like a lot if she would like to see The Matrix 4. I choose. Whether that’s the threatening physical attack or setting up my Match dot com date, I’m as authentic as I can be.
Am I always as authentic as I can be under any circumstance, under any attack, under adversity? Maybe. Rather, I just train. I train to be my authentic self under the attack everywhere. I train to be me everywhere.
Over the COVID-19 pandemic, I took walks in my favorite park in Torrance to maintain an exercise regime until I could resume my normal training paradigm. I met my squirrel friend Rocky in the park. I don’t know that we’re friends per se. After all, the Rock is a squirrel. We share a somewhat transactional relationship. I bring Rocky his favorite unsalted walnut snacks. The Rock comes up to me and eats his snacks. We hang out together in the park.
Rocky recognizes me as the dude who brings snacks. Often, he’ll stand up on his hind legs on the park walkway, wagging tail, staring at me. So, maybe we are friends after all. Just saying.
Watching Rocky eat his snacks, running up one of his various trees, distinguishes the simple life. Rocky adheres to his strict keto diet, climbs trees all day, and sleeps when the sun goes down. Rocky has no pretense. He’s just being a squirrel 24/7. He doesn’t have to try to be a squirrel. The Rock just is.
Really, that little squirrel reminds me that I have to train to be as authentic as I can be everywhere. That I’m true to myself in who I am, in what I do everywhere I go. I train to do so in Aikido, in therapy with Lance. On my path, I discovered that it’s more about what I have to give up, rather than what I have to do. I practice letting go.
Growing up as a young boy at home, I got that I was never going to be good enough for Dad. Dad terrified the hell out of me from the time that I was very little. I never knew what I did or didn’t do that made him so angry with me. As the 8-year-old, if I couldn’t be me, then who could I be? Maybe, if I were perfect, then Dad would love me? Thus, I pursued that path of perfection and suffered dearly.
There’s no perfect life. We’re all human. We’re all imperfect, too. In the Japanese aesthetic wabi-sabi: there is beauty in our imperfection. That’s what Cheryl Hunter taught me. Mad love and respect to Cheryl. As my path revealed, the late Mizukami Sensei taught me Aikido and what it is to be a good me. Sensei saw my greater-than versions that I didn’t yet see. He generated space for me to work on myself, to become the best versions of me. For the first time in my life, I was free to be me. Being me was okay, too. I was enough. I just trained. It wasn’t like I had to get somewhere.
I worked with my therapist Lance to heal my childhood trauma and depression, to look at my abusive relationship with Dad. I got that as much as I had suffered with Dad, he had suffered far worse with his Dad. The legacy of abusive parents. I practiced compassion in healing me. No, I don’t forgive my Dad for his cruelty and unkindness upon my Mom, my sister Carol, and me. I forgave Dad for not knowing how to raise me, for being imperfectly human. I learned to love myself for who am and forgive myself for who I’m not.
Honestly, being a whole bunch of different people or personas for each individual circumstance or situation is fucking draining. Who am I under the attack, under what I fear? Perhaps, the best version of me. My version that loves and forgives mine own self. Yes, simple. No, not easy. Still, if little Rocky can do it, perhaps I can too. I practice being as authentic as I can be over, and over, and over, and over again. We all can. Just saying.
I still may not be my authentic self everywhere on Planet Earth. Yet, I keep trying. Just train. In the bigger picture, my authentic self allows me to genuinely make a difference for others, getting that it’s not all about me. Amen. Amen.
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