My first year of aikido training sucked. I know, not very poetic, right? But the truth is, I began to hate it. I went to Japan expecting to find a hard core jujutsu school like the ones I read about in Black Belt Magazine. This was before the internet, kids.
Anyway, the dojo, if you want to call it that, was located in a broken down city gym. The mats were old and worn out, there was no heat and no air and the place always reeked. But it wasn’t the structure; I would have trained outdoors in the rain if I felt like I had found what I was looking for.
No, it was aikido training that I began to question and despise. If you’re not familure with aikido, most dojos train in a similar fashion. Class begins with warm ups, falling practice, etc. Then the painful and relentless joint locks followed by throws that will litterally make your head spin. We also did a ton of practice with the wooden sword (bokken) which involved a great deal of substantial contact between two students. More than once I went home with a busted knuckle.
But it wasn't the harsh conditions or the rigourous training. I expected that. It was the fact that despite my efforts, I didn’t seem to improve at all. Aikido is, in my opinion, one of the most difficult martial arts to learn because it essentially starts at a level of body dexterity that other martial arts eventually lead to. Coming from a background in karate and a “street” version of jujutsu, aikido’s principle techniques of cirucular motion and energy redirection were completely new to me. And I hated it.
At its core, aikido is a circular art. Circles upon circles designed to outwit, confuse and eventually overcome an opposing force. Sounds cool, but it is exteremely hard to master especially for a guy who was used to a much more definitive and linear approach. But I have to be honest, it wasn’t even the techniques that ticked me off. It was my ego.
Every class for the first year or so, my ego was bruised. Sure, I was in pain a lot of the time and I put with some crummy conditions. But the fact that the techniques were not coming naturally to me and that aikido is prediciated on not crushing an enemy was a hard pill to swallow. I left the dojo for a month after my first year. Told my instructor I wanted to study some other martial arts and he didn’t try to stop me. That pissed me off too.
I found and joined a Japanese Kempo school. It’s a mixture of Chinese and Japanse martial arts. I went for a few classes and felt right at home. Lots of punches and kicks, rolling on a wooden floor, sparring, etc. Now this is what I’m talking about. On the surface I felt like I had found what I was looking for and my background in karate would really help my progress. But I couldn’t get past the feeling like I had been defeated. I can’t explain it. Kempo was far more in line with my personality. But there was something in that old, dingy aikido dojo that I just had to return to. So I did.
It’s not like I was received like the prodigal son. I went to speak to my instructor after a class. I waited formally in a kneeling postion at the edge of the mat as per the proper ettiquete. I asked if I could return to the dojo and he simply said, “hai” - - “yes” but in a tone and manner that was more like, “whatever.” No mention of “glad to see you again” or “this place hasn’t been the same without you.” Nope. He made no attempt to soothe my damaged ego.
The most important thing I learned in Japan was the concept of Budo, the “path of enlightment thorugh martial training.” Budo begins and ends with humility. I would have learned a great deal in the Kempo school, but I would not have come to fully understand this concept. If you really want something to change your life, you have to put your ego aside. I found this to be equally true in my marriage, in the practice of my faith, and now a fledgling business.
This year I followed my dream to open a commercial school. Part of it was to fulfill a promsie I made to my wife before she passed. One of the last things she said to me was, “Go live your life” and I knew what she meant. She knew me better than anybody. But starting a martial arts school in your mid 50’s is no easy task. I’m having to learn a bunch of things about business and marketing that make me pretty uncomfortable. There is no straight path to making this all work and I spend a lot of my time spinning my wheels. More damn circles.
But I’ve learned to just do it anyway. It’s like training in aikido for that first year all over again. It doesn’t seem like I’m making any progress but there are things far more important happening than whether or not I can get this dojo off the ground. That’s what life is about. Staying comfortable is tantilizing. Forging ahead when there’s no clear path, well, that’s where life is.
So, I’m living my life Babe…just like you said.
Dave Magliano
Jissienkan Budo
Dojo Cho
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