I am aware of the growing trend of Aikidoka to cross-train in other martial arts. It has received a lot of support over the past few years from some high ranking and influential people in the Aikido world. I find this trend to be really unfortunate for Aikido, and it saddens me that people are being encouraged to go in that direction. Now, I have an idealist nature, and I understand that not everyone is like that. I’m always looking at myself and double-checking about my congruence with principle, spirit, and ideals. To me, Aikido is an ideal in action, and I have found absolutely no reasons to give up on it as the complete and whole practice that it is. I think that when it comes to a question like cross-training, it’s important to ask ourselves why we practice Aikido, why O-Sensei developed the art, and why he did so in the unique way it’s supposed to be practiced (the non-competitive Uke-Nage relationship, etc.). If you are an Aikido practitioner and you have decided to train in another martial art because you believe it’s going to make your Aikido better, my question for you is, “In what ways is it really helping?” Your answer will not include anything that addresses the ideals of Aikido. How could it? That’s what Aikido is for. Most of us get into the art for the “right” reasons. Something about the ideals or philosophy of Aikido resonated with us, right? I’m left with an impression that what really motivates people to cross-train in order to improve their Aikido is fear—fear that their technique is weak, fear that Aikido won’t “measure up” against other martial arts, fear of being dominated or not being dominant, fear that the “real world” doesn’t care about ideals, etc. Stop it. Just the premise of what is taking you to cross-train is already limiting you. Basically, you invested in an airplane because you wanted to fly. And then you found out that flying was either difficult or personally challenging, so now you’ve rented a car because you think it will help with the flying. Huh? Sure, in the meantime your rent-a-car will get you to places that are more familiar and comfortable to you, but is it familiarity you want? Aikido is way bigger than that and has plenty of space for all energies to be practiced effectively, and in ways that take You to new and bigger places. If you really want to cross-train, how about something that supports a practice based on the ideals of Aikido. For instance, if you’re finding that presence is challenging for you, then take up meditation. If you feel your Aikido would benefit with a body that’s more open and aligned, then take up some Yoga. But everything you need in terms of technique and the “martial” aspects is already contained in quality Aikido training, and just as importantly, in a way that supports the ideals of the art. My advice is don’t give up on Aikido. Return the rent-a-car, get back to flying, and Trust.

Forge and forget, forge and forget…

In the most basic terms, that is what a training pattern on a path of mastery looks like. There are many who never really get to the “forget” part, which is a shame, but that is a future topic. Forging is the focus of most peoples’ training, and that’s why I’m writing about it first. I think that “forging” in the context of our training is a little misunderstood and slightly misleading. I think the problem is that we all seem to follow the model of sword forging for obvious reasons of history and lineage, and that is normally interpreted as something we do to steel in order to create something more refined, strong, and sharp. The emphasis is on repetitive doing, and the goals tend to be associated with more yang qualities (energetically speaking). Steel, however, is much different than body. Steel has properties and tendencies—qualities if you will. Body has that and more. It has intelligence, and a natural tendency towards homeostasis (balance). It is a living aspect of a bigger unit. In my experience, when you try to forge your body and movement in the common interpretation of that tradition, natural body intelligence gets usurped and you end up with a practice that’s not very natural. That can often feed imbalances that are already there. Aikido becomes very “cookie-cutter” like. I’m quite sure O-Sensei didn’t have that in mind for us. I find that when it comes to “forging,” it makes a lot of sense to ask ourselves some questions before we start hammering away. Who is the One Forging? Who’s the One even asking the question and thinking about it? What is the relationship between the One who’s forging and the body that’s being forged? How does that One have to be in order to see the body-mind come to a functional balance in (and outside) the context of our training?

So what happens when you ask yourself those questions? Do you suddenly get a sense that You are not your body, and vice versa? Do you sense that you are not your thoughts and beliefs, and vice versa? Without separating those aspects from each other, it’s important to be able to distinguish them. It’s only when you can see those distinctions and hold an awareness of it that You will actually be able to operate as a unified functioning unit—balanced and intuitive. Now you are open to a more dimensional forging experience. Yes, it starts with body, but you may never get the benefit of truly knowing the effects of your thoughts, beliefs, and patterns on your actions without asking some simple questions and making some simple distinctions. I’m quite sure the finest forgers of swords will tell you that it’s much more than hammering, folding, and polishing. The great ones will see the reflection of their whole Self in the blade they have meticulously forged, and, if approached consciously, you may see the same thing reflected in your training (and techniques that you create). Forging is more than repetition of movements. It’s a conscious, balanced, and dimensional path of training and development.