On The Dodo, cute little puppy Roo growled when his foster rescuer tried to pet him. I looked at Roo’s eyes. No, he wasn’t angry or fierce, he was scared. He was the weak, abused, abandoned dog. He was so scared, afraid of getting hurt again.
I knew that look, that fear inside, when I was a little boy. When I got my fishing pole line caught in the rocks in the breakwater, Dad yelled, “Give me that!” Man, I fucked up. I was so scared. I was never good enough for Dad, and I never would be.
We’re not all that different from animals, from that little dog cowering. We’re scared, not angry. We get angry to cover the fear inside us. When Dad scared the hell out of me, I couldn’t get angry at Dad. That would only end badly for me. Dad was bigger and stronger than me.
Instead, I got angry at Mom. She knew Dad scared me to my soul, so she took all my shit. She only had unconditional love for me. At the time, I was young, dumb, and so afraid. Really, I didn’t know any better. Years later, I apologized to Mom for my thoughtless unkindness. She got it. She forgave me I wanted Mom to know that I had unconditional love for her, too.
Years later, I got that Dad wasn’t really angry at me when I was 8 years old. He was just afraid. Dad was afraid inside, because he had no idea how to raise me; he didn’t know how to be a father. He only did to me what his Dad had done to him. He didn’t know any better.
Working with my therapist Lance Miller to heal my childhood trauma and depression, I got that as bad as I had it from Dad, he had it far worse from his Dad. Although knowing that would have made no difference for me as a kid. I was smaller and weaker, anyway. Still as an adult, I had compassion for Dad, had compassion for what he suffered. Dad was imperfectly human. Me too.
For 17 years, Dad and I went fishing in Alaska every July. Dad passed away several years after that. Like Aikido is the great love of my life, fishing was the great love of Dad’s life. He was never more alive, more free, than when he was fishing. He shared that great love with me.
Near the end of our fishing trips together, Dad was an old man. The years were not kind to him, not kind to his body. Dad spent many years working and providing for Mom, my sister Carol, and me. Dad was in his twilight. Paradoxically, I became his protector, what he was not for me. I was Sandan (3rd degree black belt) at the time, strong enough, stronger than Dad. The late Mizukami Sensei trained me to always protect those who are weaker.
At the fishing lodge, I washed Dad’s clothes and made him sandwiches for lunch after our king salmon fishing trips. I took care of Dad, looked out for him. He wasn’t angry so much. He wasn’t scared of much. In Alaska, Dad was free to be himself. He was free. Over the years, Dad was scared, not angry. I got that.
In Aikido, Ishibashi Sensei tells me, “Everything quiet inside.” When the bigger stronger man attacks, I don’t throw him in anger, don’t defend out of fear. Sensei said, “The safest place to be is under the attack, in the danger.” I wait out the attack and enter the attack. I take a glancing blow if I have to. I’m not always going to get away scot-free. It’s one time.
Under the attack, in the danger, I hold my position. I open up. My feeling out. I let go my fear inside that I’m not good enough. I apply the Aikido technique to myself, not to the attacker. O-Sensei Morihei Ueshiba said, “True victory is victory over oneself.” It’s me against me. No anger inside me. I let go my fear inside me. Everything quiet inside. I can let the attacker pass or end the attack. The attacker can take the fall or stand down. We both choose. I let go my fear inside. I’m quiet inside. The attacker can do the same. Again, we both choose.
When I’m quiet inside, I have compassion. I get the attacker is scared, too. Kobayashi Sensei said, “When someone attacks you, they are asking for you help.” Those who attack are really scared, not angry. I have nothing to do with goes on inside someone else, inside the person attacking. I have a say in what goes on inside me. I let go my fear inside. They can do the same, too. I work on myself. They work on themselves. I create the space for them to work on themselves, too.
Someone attacks, not because they’re really angry. They’re just scared. They’re asking for help. I’ve learned and trained to have compassion for others. We’re all scared inside, we’re all scared of something. That’s just human. We can all let go the fear we hold inside us. We keep letting it go over, and over, and over again. Just train.
–
Photo: iStock
