Grab My Wrist

5th Kyu test & beyond

First, I passed. For those into belt colors, that means I’m still a white belt. I’ll be posting the video (which I have not seen yet) later today.

I wasn’t worried about passing, though. I was more interested in doing well. Or at least doing my best.

I did OK. Only one or two brain cramps on techniques, and I didn’t shut down during jiyuwaza. A few minor “D’oh!” moments, but nothing horrid.

On the good side, I knew the names of everything, and the basics of how each technique went. Watching the 4th kyu test (the next one I’ll have to take) I realized that I know those names and techniques, too, basically. And even a lot of the ones on the 3rd kyu test. I felt reasonably relaxed and present, and was able to breathe and focus pretty well.

On the room-for-improvement side… I really felt like something was missing, like I was “demonstrating how the techniques go” instead of *doing* the techniques. Like kind of half-singing a song to get across what the lyrics are, as opposed to really putting it out there like you mean to be heard. It felt half-hearted, uncommitted, low energy… something like that. When I sat back down in the line afterward, while watching the others, I knew I hadn’t done my best, but I didn’t know why. I wished I could’ve had a second chance, to get up there and do it like I had intended to do it. “Darn it. That wasn’t how I meant to do that!” Oh well.

An interesting life lesson there… How often do I - do we - start out with the intention to really knock one out of the park, and then fade into “wait, that’s not how I meant to do that” territory? Not for lack of skill, but from some momentary lethargy or lack of focus. Or maybe it’s fear of trying, really whole-heartedly Going For It, and falling flat anyway.

I didn’t knock it out of the park. I’m not proud of how I did, from a performance standpoint. But on the whole I’m OK with it. It was diagnostic, revealing. I know now where I stand. My perception of how I did on the test was consistent with the feedback I got. Sensei said it seemed like I was “being careful.” I’m sure I was. I usually am a little tentative, a little light (not soft), and uncommitted, when practicing. Going through the motions.

The reason I’ve been conscious of for that is that I’m not sure of the technique - not sure I’m doing it right - and that I’m afraid that if I do it wrong I’ll hurt my partner (particularly on things where one could bend joints in unnatural ways). I have also felt a general need to refrain from being forceful. I am reasonably strong, and it’s easy for me to slip into using strength to try to “make” a technique work. I am more comfortable with more powerful technique (on both sides of the partnership). It’s more familiar, and more fun. But I’ve been careful to try to keep that turned way down, to focus on finesse over force. Maybe, with some basic competency now, I can judiciously and correctly incorporate power into my Aikido.

Another reason I’ve just seen today is that you can’t “really” fail if you aren’t “really” trying. It’s time to start really trying; doing Aikido like I mean it, all the time. By that I don’t mean being stronger, harder, and more forceful with people. Just committed, honest, and real. Really strike. Really feel the energy. Really take Uke’s balance. Really do the pin. Really throw them. And if that means making some blunders and looking like a goof along the way, so be it.

New goal: Do it “the way I meant to do it” every time. Really.

Downs & Ups of Exam Prep

My exam for 5th kyu is Saturday morning - tomorrow. When I first started working with my mentor a month ago we began with a sort of diagnostic run-through of the exam. I knew all the technique names, and basically what they were. There was plenty of room for correction and refinement, but I wasn’t completely lost. I felt like I was on a pretty good trajectory for being ready by exam day.

Then in mid-January I did a seminar, which was great fun, and a tremendous experience. I loved it, but it was exhausting, and dumped a whole lot of new information into my little 6th-kyu brain.

The next couple of weeks were difficult all around, and left my confidence a bit battered. I couldn’t seem to do anything right in class. Friends on Facebook were commenting that my Aikido posts had been negative lately.

I accumulated a dozen or so small injuries and ailments - a jammed thumb, a knee that didn’t like to bend, sore shoulders and neck muscles, a stomped foot, assorted bruises and tight muscles, etc. I found myself stiff and guarded. Lingering symptoms from a cold in December returned, and my breathing was getting clogged up during class. One night I must have been dehydrated, and whited out (and sat right back down) when I stood up quickly from seiza.

Last Wednesday I had the worst bout of vertigo since starting Aikido. The world was spinning. I felt seasick and was tipping over and falling into things. Feeling grounded isn’t even a possibility in that state.

Vertigo also causes a cognitive hit, from all that brain CPU being used just to navigate in the world, I guess. It’s like the brain fog that rolls in when one has a cold. When I worked with my mentor last Friday, terminology I had down solid a month ago was lost in the fog. Techniques I’ve done well enough a hundred times were incomprehensible. I felt overwhelmed by how much I had left to learn.

There were other little things. Work seemed to be a morass of interruptions, distractions, and conflicting priorities. I couldn’t seem to get caught up on chores at home. One night a car easily going 100 mph very nearly rear-ended me on the freeway. The universe was not being kind.

Then on Sunday I participated in one of Sensei’s “In Focus” workshops, this time on ukemi. These workshops push us a bit. They are always revealing, and usually fun. While some of the exercises in this one were indeed fun, on the whole the experience was, for me, profoundly discouraging. The toes on my stomped foot were numb. I’d rolled funny on one shoulder, so my whole arm hurt and my fingers were tingling. I was told, and could see in the video, what I was doing wrong, but couldn’t feel it. It felt right, but wasn’t. Without accurate perceptions how can one make corrections? I’d had a similar experience, where I could not grasp *how* to learn something else in the past, and in that case I just give up entirely. So running into this particular personal brick wall was hard. Giving up Aikido is not an option, but I couldn’t see my way around the wall. A very perceptive fellow student gave me a bit of a pep talk (or a kick in the butt), but it was still a difficult day.

Less than a week to my test, and it felt like my Aikido, barely held together with duct tape and baling twine on a good day, was falling apart. Sunday night my status on Facebook said “Linda Eskin is looking for the lesson, hard.”

By Monday morning I decided I had to dig myself out of my rut. I remembered to take my allergy meds so I could breathe. I drank plenty of water, and walked at lunch. I stocked up on Gatorade and bananas to keep dehydration and muscle spasms at bay. I skipped going to the dojo to stay home to rest and heal, and to really study. I watched videos of each technique, reviewed my old descriptions of each, and wrote out new ones. When anything wasn’t clear, I noted that, so I could ask about it.

On Tuesday I visualized the whole test over and over. As I fed Rainy and the donkeys I heard the words Sensei will say, let myself be aware of the little crowd of parents there to watch their kids’ tests, felt what the cool blue mat will feel like, smelled how the mid-morning air will smell when it comes in across the little stream out behind the dojo, and heard the birds singing in the reeds. I saw and felt each technique in picture-perfect detail. I ran through it again as I got ready for work. Once more while I walked at lunch. And again as I drove to the dojo.

Tuesday night I did both classes. We reviewed all the techniques I was having trouble with, and did some great work on jiyuwaza. After class I got to practice with my mentor and with my fellow 5th Kyu candidate. We both did the whole test, plus jiyuwaza with each other. We got video of everything, and posted it so we could review it during the week. I felt so much better! Not quite ready, but confident that I could be ready by Saturday. Back on track!

Wednesday was another day off from classes. I iced and rested the ouchy parts, studied and visualized the techniques, and went out to dinner with my dear husband, Michael. Ended the day feeling more settled.

Yesterday morning, Thursday, I put together a playlist of positive, high-energy music that I love, and listened to that while driving. In the middle of a long day of meetings at work I managed to get outdoors once, sit quietly, and do the whole test again. The weapons class in the evening was very calming and reassuring. I may not be any better at weapons than at anything else, but I find them easier to comprehend. So weapons classes generally leave me feeling like I might have a bit of a clue about this stuff. I stayed late to watch some of the advanced class, write some notes and be sure I had all my questions down to ask my mentor on Friday. The class was doing some really interesting work on feeling shared energy and going with it. I’m very glad I stayed. I left feeling quietly excited, happy, and very grateful to be able to train with Sensei and my dojo mates.

Tonight is a 90-minute class with Sensei, and then a full run-through of the exam with my mentor. I’m really looking forward to both.  All I have to do tomorrow is show up, relax, breathe, and have fun.

Great Trip, Happy to be Home

Long time, no blog post! After the recent seminar, circumstances promptly dumped me back into my normal life. Work was busy. The weather was insane, with the most dramatic storms we’ve seen in years. The power was unreliable for days. Rainy the horse, and the donkeys, have needed extra tending with all the rain and muck. And after one 6-hour power failure our refrigerator broke for good, which meant an evening throwing out everything, and filling an ice chest with enough to get by on. It’s been like camping in our own house. On top of that, I’ve been training all I can, because my 5th kyu test is coming up a week from Saturday.

Now work is settled back into a good steady pace. The rain is coming down more gently. The new fridge arrives tomorrow, and we’re making a restocking run in the evening. Training for my test is proceeding apace. Almost back to a normal routine.

For the past week I’ve been wanting to post something to sum up my experience of the Aikido Bridge Friendship Seminar. It was such a long, intense, diverse, and new experience it’s hard to know where to begin, so I’ll start at the end.

I’ve lived in San Diego County all my life. It’s a lovely place. People from all over come here for vacations. Whenever I’ve flown back into San Diego on a commercial flight there have been people visibly and vocally excited about coming here, many for the first time. “Yay! We’re in San Diego!!!” It doesn’t matter where I’ve been, what I’ve seen, what I’ve been doing, when I come back here I have that same feeling. It’s not only that it’s familiar and comfortable, it’s really a beautiful, rich, amazing part of the world. I’m very lucky to live here, and happy to be home.

Coming back to my own dojo after the seminar, which actually was my vacation, was a similar experience. I feel so fortunate to have a great “home” to return to. Tonight’s classes just reinforced that feeling once again. I’m very lucky to live here, and happy to be home.

The seminar was the first Aikido training I’d done outside of events with my own dojo. The facility was lovely, and the event (in its 4th year, I believe?) was well-run. Thank you again, to Jeff Sodeman Sensei and everyone at Jiai Aikido who made the seminar possible. Everyone I met was friendly, helpful, and serious about training.

The teachers were amazing, of course, kind, often funny, and very generous about connecting with students at all levels. I had the privilege of working with each of them several times, and tried my best to stay present and really get what I was feeling. Ikeda Sensei was like grabbing a cloud - just nothing to hold onto. It seems that the wonder of this stuff working never grows old for him. Several times he allowed that “It’s weird!” Many of Doran Sensei’s techniques included what I think of as the kind of misdirection used by magicians. He often taught with a very charming sense of mischief. On the last day I and another white belt (just there for that day, I think) were trying to work out the details of some seemingly impossible technique, when Tissier Sensei stopped to offer us a few words of encouragement. Such a gracious man.

I’ve never done anything so physically and mentally intense, for so long, before. I was very glad for all the Aikido classes I’d been doing, the walking at lunch, the time on the elliptical trainer, and heavy yard work. I came home utterly exhausted (but exhilarated) each night. I had told my husband, Michael, to basically consider me to be “out of town” for the duration; to make his own plans for the evenings. That was a good call. I had just enough energy left to throw my dogi in the wash, feed the critters, shower, eat something, set the alarm clock, and collapse into bed.

I cannot come close to remembering everything we covered in those 5 days. I certainly can’t describe it with any accuracy. Here are some of the impressions that particularly struck me:

Tissier Sensei - Emphasized economy of motion. His speed was incredible. There were techniques he demonstrated “slowly” and some parts where just blurs, they happened so fast. He also worked with us on looking where we were going (for instance, to a point on the floor, and not at Uke’s hand). This point really stuck with me for two reasons. First, it made an immediate, clear improvement in the feel of the technique when I did it. Second, it’s very familiar from horseback riding - jumping in particular. You don’t stare down at a jump as you’re going over it, you’re already looking to the next one. Your attention (or intention, really) on the next jump naturally helps guide you and your horse to it - it’s palpable. And the effect is the same in Aikido.

Ikeda Sensei - Taking Uke’s balance at the first touch. Subtle, internal waves. Giving the impression of something to grab, but nothing being there. I was able to see little glimmers of this working, like seeing the shadow of a fish in dark water. I caught a glimpse. I know it’s there, somewhere.

Doran Sensei - Lots of very sensible techniques, presented in clearly-explained chunks I could mostly manage to understand. I got it about the train coming, and getting off the track. I got it about catching the shomen strike like catching a fish on a hook. I got it about using atemi to get Uke to take their own balance, so you don’t have to.

These things were just moments. An image here or phrase there that was able to snatch up and tuck into my memory as they flew past in a hurricane of information for 5 days. There were also the guest instructors, and dozens of training partners, and new friends, who I learned so much from. It was a pretty mind-blowing experience. I’m already looking forward to going again next year.

Aikido Bridge - Saturday

Another amazing day. I’m learning a lot about attending seminars. Sit in the middle, so you can hear. Drink more water than you think you need to. Eat something at each break. And now I know that if you throw the morning’s sweaty gi in your car at lunch, all the windows will be fogged up when you go to leave in the evening.

There are a lot of levels of understanding at work. There are some things I just Do Not Get. I can’t even understand what’s being explained, never mind attempt it. There are other things I understand, conceptually, but cannot begin to do at all. Someday… Then some things I get glimmers of success, and could see being able to do them with some exploration and practice. And there there are the ones where I Really Got It, and was able to do the technique the way it was shown. Woohoo!

This morning’s sessions included a good mix of all those things. A few “duh… what”  moments, and a few “aha!” moments, with a lot of everything else in between.

At lunch a few of us went to the park at the bay to take a quiet break, and just rest. We ended up with a dead battery, but luckily another friend was able to come rescue us with a jump start, and we all got back in time for the afternoon sessions, which started at 3:00.

About midway through the afternoon I was really tired, and my knee was tight from sitting around on the lunch break. I and some of the people I was working with were not catching the subtleties of whatever was being shown, and were sort of just trying stuff. I almost bowed out, figuring I was wiped, and not getting anything out of the rest of the day anyway. Maybe I could grasp it better by just watching. But then I got to work with a couple of folks who got what was going on. Their technique was great, and/but not subtle at all. I did a whole bunch of the hardest falls I’ve done in Aikido (not high breakfalls, just going down hard) and had no problem with that. The technique was really effortless to do, sneaky, and very effective. LOL It was actually hard to not drop Uke like a ton of bricks. Then on the next technique we did quite a lot of pitching each other rather forcefully into forward rolls. All of that kind of woke me up, and I was able to make sense of at least some of the rest of the afternoon.

In the evening there was a beer social at the dojo. It was great to have a chance to sit and chat with some of the folks I’ve met. I’m starting to put names, faces, and dojos together. I’ll probably finally get a few names right on Monday, when the seminar ends. ;-)

Now I’m in that state of mind when one is immersed in an experience over a few days where you start to hear your own thoughts in the accents of dialects of the people you’ve been listening to all day. Even the way I was moving when doing my laundry and feeding the critters felt different. Weird zone to be in. I’m completely wiped out, and on my way to another hot bath and early bedtime.