Thursday, December 31, 2009

fascinating rhythm



The giant metronome in the sky – that’s how I came to think of the incessant and precisely regular sound. It would have been maddening, except for the fact that it seemed to pulse at a tempo perfectly suited to the trotting gait of the horse I was riding that evening -- another lovely autumn night in the outdoor ring. Clear and not too cold, it was apparently also perfect for the local marching band practicing somewhere off in the distance, using an amplified electronic metronome to keep them in step.

Well, of course, I knew rhythm to be important in riding and horse training but that evening I had a very tangible experience of the effect of regularity, repetition and consistency on both my horse and myself. I found it impossible to keep from posting the trot to the beat of the metronome. So after my initial resistance, thinking ‘when will that infernal pounding stop!?’ I surrendered and noticed how happily Knickers seemed to be ticking along, dropping his head slightly, blowing out and shaking himself like a big dog, quickly settling down to trot easily around the ring. We both became somewhat mesmerized and I found that soon I hadn’t a care in the world.

The experience stayed with me and in my musician’s heart I began to ponder the significance of rhythm – a concept I had come to take for granted throughout many years of musical training. I started questioning some of my musical friends, particularly those who play jazz and Latin music, I pulled out all of my various dressage and horse training books and began to think about rhythm – in music and in horse riding, soon finding more complexity than I first imagined.

Rhythm is a vibrational phenomenon, and it exists at many levels and across time scales. Some say that our relationship to rhythm is established in our mother’s womb as we are literally immersed in the beating of her heart. Throughout our lives we experience layer upon layer of rhythms and cycles from the rising and setting of the sun, the phases of the moon, and the turning of the seasons. From the micro to the macro level, rhythm makes time apparent to us.

So, rhythm includes periodicity and regularity, contains the element of tempo, can create shape, is predictable -- the feeling of knowing what is coming next allows for relaxation. I have the rhythm of my work day, my week, the rhythm of an hour’s aikido class or a weekend intensive seminar. These days I also have the regular structure of a riding lesson – a similar progression from preparation, warm up, through gradually more demanding movements, including periods of greater and lesser intensity, ending with a winding down to walk on a long rein, halt and dismount. Like a musical phrase, a song or a symphony, a short story or a novel – each has a certain form and tempo, a rhythmic framework.

Our rhythmic sense should be completely natural and inherent, yet not everyone seems to be able to express it equally well, to “tap into it,” to “go with the flow.” If rhythm is so closely connected to relaxation, then it certainly makes sense that tension is the enemy of rhythm. Any method for releasing excess tension, whether through the Alexander Technique, Feldenkrais, meditation or constructive rest, allows us more access to this quality we all seem to crave: the pulse which has the ability to mesmerize and enthrall and which in turn puts us even further at ease.

The subject is deep and broad and all-encompassing and its application, especially in horse riding and training, so integral, I am quite certain that “I do not know what I do not know” – you know what I mean -- but it is so irresistibly fascinating that it must be explored.

And, what could seemingly illustrate rhythm more perfectly than – tap dancing! Ring in the New Year with this over-the-top number as Eleanor Powell dances to…what else – Fascinatin' Rhythm! Fortunately, even the low resolution film quality cannot disguise the precision of her body mechanics. Note her ability to isolate body parts, the easy poise of her head and if you wonder how she can move and lift her legs without disturbing her overall coordination – it’s the psoas (core strength) muscle. Enjoy!

Sunday, December 13, 2009

the maestro


"Equestrian art is the perfect understanding and harmony between horse and rider."
--Nuno Oliveira
Enraptured, I watched in amazement, and could only feel that this must be the epitome, the ultimate expression of equestrian artistry -- its complete embodiment. Nuno Oliviera (1925 – 1989) personifies effortless elegance in this rare footage from his earlier years. Horse and rider are seamlessly inseparable – he transcends their duality, creating a palpable demonstration of oneness. Where does one being end and the other begin?
The creation which results is it seems greater than either could achieve alone – the horse has become a willing partner, allowing the man to experience a physicality impossible without his mount. And while a horse’s movements at liberty are undeniably beautiful, somehow the rider is able to draw out and reveal to us unimagined potentials in the horse. Their synergy positively takes our breath away.
The caption of the video “travail d'un cheval” or “work with a horse” describes not a choreographed artistic performance but rather the patient, precise and utterly consistent process of communication by a master training a pupil. The addition of the wonderfully complementary musical track may enhance the aesthetic impact, yet as I watch again in silence I find it even more magical. This masterful rider seems able to place the center of himself lower than his physical body, somewhere inside the horse – creating the effect of the mythical centaur.
What is he actually doing, I feel desperate to understand -- he is leading and following at the same time! How is he able to do this? I sense an utter absence of muscular willfulness, an infinite patience and what must be great sensitivity to every nuance of the horse’s response. And, sure enough, I perceive not just the rider’s spine but his whole head and torso being used as a tool with energy directed both upwards and downwards, and often in both directions at the same time. As I watch I feel a vague kinesthetic resonance in myself – we all must have had certain experiences -- pure and unfettered, at some point before we began accumulating our many habits of movement and reaction.
The riding is really just too exquisite – I soften inside, release my preoccupation with understanding how, and surrender to the sheer ecstasy of simply knowing that someone has lived who experienced this depth of understanding and this relationship with horses.
Apparently, as he worked, Maestro Oliviera often listened to arias from the operas he so loved – the Italian masters Verdi or Puccini. Watch the footage above with and without the soundtrack and you will find all the qualities of musical expression even in silence: lyricism, drama, the dynamic shaping of a phrase through accumulation of energy and its release, rhythm and tempo, and of course harmony, and even – harmonic dissonance! Do you sense it?Click HERE to view another much shorter video clip of this incredible master.

Sunday, December 6, 2009

a moving stillness


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When did I begin to pay attention to what being a “quiet” rider means? It seems fairly recent, but seeds are always sown well ahead of the bloom. Of course, I have heard the quality praised over and over again – this rider has a quiet seat, this one quiet hands, this one a quiet presence -- but with so much else to learn and to “do,” apparently it took some time before I was ready to reflect on what quiet really means – to me, and to my horse.
Late August, Gail Field’s annual Centered Riding Clinic out at Lord Stirling Stable, my only written notes state: “DO NOTHING, learn to surrender to the horse. First do nothing – any tension or holding tells the horse something.” Hummmmm.
Early October, ah yes, there was that particularly vivid experience at Mio Morales’ weekend intensive Alexander Technique workshop. Sitting “still” in our seats, we practiced what became a kind of meditation – we gently and repeatedly brought our attention to the possibility of ease in our head/neck area. The ease ebbed and flowed with our awareness, and I was freshly reminded how much subtle movement is really taking place as we simply sit on our chairs. How interesting and refreshing it was to turn down the extraneous “noise” of excess tension and unnecessary movement. Hummmmm.
Next, a wonderful article by Elizabeth Reese, “The Alexander Technique and Classical Equitation” really got me thinking about what I have been telling my horse as I sometimes fidget around, trying to find just the right organization of myself as I ride. A few choice quotes:
* “. . . any action that the rider does make can [should] be both intentional and momentary.”
* “We must first find a place of quiet listening in order to act. Without listening, all of our actions are really reactions.”
* “The rider needs to discover a neutral place where she or he is not interfering with or disrupting the horse’s balance.”
November, Aikido Winter Camp in Florida: the image of Shibata Sensei’s “calm-before-the-storm” way of being. We quickly came to know that without any discernible movement or clue he could in a split second somehow draw an unsuspecting attacker into the center of the action. This produced a profound sense of aliveness on the mat -- magical in a way. You never knew where he would appear and you never quite knew what to expect. He captured our attention, with his quietness. His movements seemed to carry even more impact as they emerged out of a calm stillness. Hummmmm.
And periodically throughout the autumn I visited philosophical realms with “Dressage in the Fourth Dimension” written by Dr. Sherry Ackerman, a professor of philosophy who is also a dressage rider. An excerpt on sacred geometry:
“All movement begins with its antithesis, immobility. The dot, in ancient cosmologies, represented universal consciousness – the source of all things . . . in . . . dressage, we participate in the dot through the fully engaged halt. We sit, perfectly motionless in poised collection . . . as long as we do not disturb the collection, the horse remains prepared . . . for instantaneous movement in any direction . . . we sit in a stream of consciousness: the motion of immobility.”
So, lately when I get on a horse, or step onto the aikido mat, or find myself in a crowded subway or on a congested New York City street, I am very interested in the component of stillness within the activity -- how to be still without becoming tense. How does my presence affect my horse, or my training partners on the mat? Do others become more manageable or react differently to me when I stay quietly in touch with my center? Where is the neutral place where harmony begins? Hummmmm.
Shown above, Annelie sits quietly connected to the canter of one of the largest horses I have seen her ride, an enormous Cleveland Bay she rode at his owners request at the Centered Riding Clinic at Thorncroft Therapeutic Riding Center. She recently attempted to describe to me the sense of stillness that is possible on a beautifully moving horse; apparently you feel that you are doing nothing, but in reality there is a lot going on!

Sunday, November 29, 2009

tuning the body


As I began to research the history of a movement art which has excited my imagination, the roots of what is today known as Rhythmic Gymnastics proved to be intertwined with many aspects of my personal past: artistic gymnastics, music and dance of course, but more surprisingly I found that it grew from musical pedagogies such as Dalcroze Eurythmics, Orff and Kodaly methods and the Eurythmy developed by Rudolf Steiner. Further connection is made to even more esoteric influences such as the Gurdjieff Movements and various types of sacred dance considered a form of yoga in India, created to act out events of a cosmic nature.

The idea that the human body can mirror a cosmic perfection, precisely trained and tuned to express universal principles is quite fascinating. Exposure to the systems and ideas noted above, as well as practical immersion in the discoveries of F.M. Alexander has given me a taste for the potential of movement practices to expand self-knowledge, consciousness and awareness. These are also the aspects of aikido training which continue to enthrall – the pure physics involved as well as the opportunity to open my perspective and refine the use of myself.

Initially I was somewhat surprised at the depth of my obsession with this incredible art form, called a sport by some – but as I delved into its development it began to make sense, as it grew from various methods designed to teach the principles of music through expressive movement, or gymnastic exercizes to develop grace, flexibility and good posture. If only I had known about this when I was a young gymnast I thought -- however the first world championship was held in Budapest in 1963 and its first Olympic appearance was not until 1984 -- so my childhood gymnastics career was premature.

The artist who has completely captured my attention is Anna Bessonova, still apparently reaching her peak at the ripe old age of 25 (most others stop competing by their early twenties). She is a world super-star as you will soon discover if you take even a cursory look on the internet, and her statuesque power, dramatic range and breathtaking precision are utterly captivating. Yes, these are superhuman feats she is executing, but we can all learn something kinesthetically by enjoying her artistry.

Anna Bessonova is shown above competing with the hoop, one of the five (yes count them, five) different apparatus which must be mastered. By viewing close to one hundred of her performances, I have chosen a favorite routine in each discipline, should you care to observe more of her expressive range: the ball, the clubs, the ribbon, and the rope. In aikido we use wooden weapons to extend and clarify our body movements and our “open-handed” techniques; I find her self-mastery awe inspiring, and when you factor in the external objects whose laws she must also incorporate, it’s almost too much to comprehend!

Monday, November 23, 2009

a thing of beauty

My process in learning to ride has eerily paralleled my beginning years of aikido training. Idealism held sway over practical matters, sometimes resulting in rude awakenings. Tears often took me off the mat in those first years, but not once did I ever consider giving up on my training. For my first riding lesson, I was placed on a 17-hand Percheron cross who decided to get rid of me midway through the hour, and while shaken, I was quite certain that it would take more than that to keep me from learning to ride horses.

Now in my third year of riding I am very thankful that my background and idealism led me early on to the pedagogy of Centered Riding® where I have received incredible benefits from learning its principles. However, I have become aware that my understanding of some of the basic concepts of equitation is lacking. It would be as if studying the Alexander Technique could produce a fabulous violinist without ever taking violin lessons, or that someone could learn the art of aikido without mastering ikkyo, nikkyo, sankyo, etc. -- the techniques through which the art is taught.

So recently, in order to continue my equestrian education, I have been applying myself to the study of “The Principles of Riding” – The Official Instruction Handbook of the German National Equestrian Federation. Initially, I believed that this book might be a bit dry, and would lack the integrated and creative approach I find so appealing in the Centered Riding® methods. To the contrary, I am currently captivated as I find answers to many of my questions using this clear, time-honored and systematic approach. Now that I have accumulated some riding experience of my own, I seem finally ready for a good dose of technical information.

Just as it has taken many years of often strenuous and repetitious aikido training to allow me to experience the finesse and expression I craved from the very beginning, I sense that the aesthetic qualities which draw me to the equestrian arts are also quite far from my grasp and require years of dedicated practice to even begin to approach. Interestingly, this doesn’t seem to curb my enthusiasm in the least – a feeling not experienced since those early years in aikido.

At the end of one of my favorite sections of the book entitled ‘The Co-ordination of the Aids,’ which builds on the previous detailed descriptions of rein, leg and seat aids, I was very pleased to find the final paragraph which emphatically states: “When a rider has developed the seat as described, it is easily recognized for its artistic and aesthetic beauty.” (emphasis mine)

Enjoy the video above which demonstrates great artistry through nearly invisible technique in the partnership of Steffen Peters and Ravel.

Sunday, November 22, 2009

the tao of silk



Ten years ago, a close friend of mine took a trip to Japan with a group of aikido students led by Yamada Sensei, and ever since I have been hearing tales of an aikido teacher they encountered there. Apparently all of the women students were particularly smitten with Endo Sensei, recognizing in him an elegance, subtlety, and sophistication of technique sometimes lacking in the martial arts. His teaching style is also somewhat uncommon – he lets everyone feel what he is doing, by moving around the mat and working with each student. The consensus opinion seemed to be – he’s so smooth – you really have to feel it!

Over the years I didn’t pay much attention to her periodic ravings -- I felt she certainly must be exaggerating, carried away by the exoticism of Japan. Finally I decided to take a look for myself and found the video above. My first impression was a very visceral response to the magically soft and enveloping quality of the interaction he creates with his uke. Somehow smooth doesn’t fully describe it – silken, might come closer.

In addition to its luxurious sheen, softness and luminosity, silk also has incredible tensile strength and structural integrity, as well as insulating properties and the ability to return to shape even if stretched up to 25% of its original length. Silk is apparently not only seductively soft, it’s strong and resilient as well.

Watching Endo Sensei over and over again, I began to sense how powerful his softness must feel to those receiving his techniques. There is really no discernible “moment of contact” as he draws his attacker into his own sphere. We experience it in good aikido training as an undertow, a feeling of the rug being pulled from under us, being sucked into a vortex. He certainly retains his structural integrity – he remains quietly imperturbable. From an Alexander Technique perspective he doesn’t interfere in the least with his own ease of coordination as he initiates movement from his center. Seductive (from Latin, literally ‘to lead astray’) is also another way to look at the quality of his movement.

Even more fascinating to scientists than the silk from silkworms is the silk produced by spiders. Visit the link to see an amazing Spider Silk Tapestry woven in Madagascar from the drag-line silk of a species of golden orb-weaving spider. According to it’s creators it’s a very unusual material: “we never broke a single strand, yet the tapestry is as soft as cashmere.”“For its weight, spider silk is stronger than steel, but—unlike steel—it can stretch up to 40% of its normal length.” from the exhibit description at the American Museum of Natural History.

Friday, November 20, 2009

a fine romance

She handed off the little red horse to me, all the while cataloguing the litany of his sins and faults: ‘stubborn, you’ll have to crop him, then he’ll try to buck you off, he only wants to follow the others, then he will settle down – he likes to jump [whoa! – my class isn’t jumping yet!], his canter’s just ok’ . . . all this had apparently made for a very frustrating previous hour’s class for her. I smiled and thanked her and led Junior back to center ring to make our fresh start.

Somehow, I knew that there was another side to the story and I sensed that we were going to be able to “work things out”, me and Junior. After all, I was now in Intermediate Level 1 and our level is all about becoming independent, the leader of your horse. However, as soon as I mounted young Junior (he’s only 9 -- young compared to most of the horses I’m given to ride, 20 or so on average) I felt him settle into a determined stillness. Undaunted, I asked with my leg, repeated, spoke firmly “walk on” as I asked more insistently, eventually adding crop to leg. Junior remained absolutely immobile and then, as predicted by my predecessor, he kicked up his heels and somewhat halfheartedly tried to buck me off. For some reason all of this amused me and I sat quietly on him, asking again, willing him forward with all my best intentions.

My teacher Martha mentioned that I would need to use everything I had ever heard in the Centered Riding® clinics to be successful with Junior; she also mentioned that I was already doing much better with him than the previous “advanced” level rider! I felt myself swell with pride, but pretended to take it in stride. That type of comment, properly timed, can certainly build confidence, and since Martha is not known to hand those out routinely, it enhanced the effect and I took it to heart. Center, breathe, soft eyes, ease and release the neck, don’t react, just repeat. In fits and starts we began to walk. 

Still determined to show my independence and leadership, I asked him to circle away from the group in the large outdoor ring. A dead stop followed and we began again. Hummmm, she did mention that he liked to follow the other horses, so I decided to let him see the others as we picked up a trot; once we established our rhythm and he was fast approaching the rear of the horse ahead I guided him to cross the ring, determined to keep my clear intent. And cross the ring is just what we did, blending smoothly in to trot merrily along the rail.

With a matchmaker’s skill, Martha casually dropped a few choice comments: he’s always been one of her favorites, he’s just a big teddy bear, and the not-so-subtle wouldn’t you two look great galloping around together . . . love was in the air. Seriously, once we got moving, Junior was a very nice little horse (little is a relative term where a few hundred pounds here or there define the gradations). I felt very comfortable with him, felt his appreciation for my sensitive yet firm approach, my compassion for him, and my good-natured acceptance of his just being a horse, testing me because that is what they do!

This week, after our second class together, I began to wonder about my beloved – is he a chestnut, or maybe a sorrel, yes that sounds romantic – he could be a sorrel. (No, Martha says he is a chestnut!). Memories surfaced of the curiosity that comes along with courtship . . . it is a kind of love affair, isn’t it?

No, that is not Junior shown above, but another redhead: Annelie’s chestnut mare Abby who I had the pleasure of meeting during my first year of riding. Easy-going Abby knew I was a “pushover” at that point and took advantage of my green-ness to eat all the grass she wanted as I delicately attempted to persuade her otherwise!

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

always saddle your own horse



My aikido and horse riding friend from Boston, Midge, emailed me a very tempting video -- somehow I had a feeling that it would be better to wait and watch it in the comfort of my own home. So tonight I sat down to enjoy the trailer of the American Cowgirl, and cried like a baby through all three viewings so far.

Really touching is the profile of 101-year-young Connie Reeves, who at that age was still riding every day!

“The past is dead unless somebody records it…my life’s not important to very many people. But, what I have done may be something that will motivate someone else. I hope so.” - Connie Reeves

From the story “A Cowgirl’s Final Ride” in the St. Petersburg Times Floridian, published at her death:

"Initially she meant just that: 'Saddle your own horse, develop a relationship with your horse,' said Meg Clark. But as with everything that Connie said, it had a much greater meaning, just as her life did. Ultimately, what she meant was: 'Take responsibility for your life. Saddle your own horse and live that life the way you choose to.'"

Enjoy the trailer embedded above and visit the American Cowgirl website to read the many wonderful stories and see the great photographs by creator Jamie Williams.

Monday, November 16, 2009

nothing doing


As soon as I finished telling my student that the Alexander Technique does not prescribe specific exercises, I realized that he might be very interested in something called “constructive rest.” Sometimes called an “Alexander Lie-Down” and often used by AT teachers, it came originally from the world of Ideokinesis.

Constructive rest, in its purest form -- simply lying down once or twice a day for 5-20 minutes in the described position and allowing gravity to do the work of releasing holding patterns and excess tension can be quite revealing, refreshing and restorative. The addition of simple suggestions, such as to allow the neck to be free, can enhance the procedure, as long as we do not add a component of trying to accomplish something -- nothing doing!

Basic procedure:
“Lie on your back, bend your knees to about 90 degrees, and place your feet on the floor in line with your hip sockets, 12 to 16 inches from your buttocks. Be careful not to flatten or exaggerate the curves in either your lumbar (lower back) or cervical (neck) spine. Rest your hands and forearms on your rib cage or on your pelvis. In this position, you don't need to perform any muscular action. Gravity will do the work. Shift your awareness to the support of your bones. Begin by sensing the weight of your bones sinking down toward the floor. Take note of any part of your skeleton that feels as though it is suspended, any place where the muscular contraction prevents the bones from surrendering to the pull of gravity. Gradually, the distribution of weight will start to feel increasingly even throughout your body.” --Adapted from Liz Koch, the psoas expert

Try it for a few minutes a day and see what you notice. I’ve found constructive rest useful in bringing me a more refined awareness of my back and the space behind me (horse riders, you understand the importance of that!) and also for showing me the positive effects of gravity while sensing the skeleton as the body’s active support (in contrast to our habitual patterns which usually attempt to hold the body with muscular effort).

Turns out, my catchy title is also the name of the last book of poetry by Cid Corman, Nothing/Doing, in which I discovered this apropos piece:

just resting
letting the
breezes make
something of
a body

The concept of non-doing, so foreign to our goal and achievement-oriented culture, is expressed in the Japanese calligraphy ”mu” above: “Nothingness is not an absence of being; it is the fullness of existence that brings forth all things. One meaning of MU is not to be captivated or beguiled by this or that; the way of Zen is found within the interplay of "no" and "yes," "nothingness" and "fullness."

Friday, November 13, 2009

turning inside out

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“Look same outside, different inside . . .” Sugano Sensei has been known to say, as he attempts to convey to us that there is a lot more to aikido than meets the eye!
Last weekend, as we once again gathered together for the annual USAF Winter Camp sponsored by Florida Aikikai, we could not have been blessed with three more unique master teachers (shihan) than Yamada Sensei, Sugano Sensei and Shibata Sensei. As the three days of training unfolded and one class blended into two or three or even more each day, I was struck not only by the obvious similarities of technique but particularly by the individuality of each Sensei’s style -- both teaching style and “personality” -- all so different, but all with a larger-than-life quality shining through as they demonstrated aikido’s underlying principles to us in a seemingly endless array of variations. It was a banquet of beautiful aikido created using high-quality ingredients and I wanted to devour all of it.
I chuckled to myself, remembering Sugano Sensei’s favorite phrase. We might be effecting a tolerable imitation of their demonstration but how thoroughly did we really understand the interaction, how often were we able to embody the movement? Even when we managed to look pretty darn good, what was happening on the inside? These are questions I kept asking myself as one class after another reinforced the same themes.
My personal impressions: Yamada Sensei – large sweeping movements, classicism and dynamism; Sugano Sensei explosive timing, precision and philosophy; and Shibata Sensei - extraordinary improvisation, bending time and setting the tempo at will, as the various ukes became the instruments for his jazz riffs on technique. Each Sensei fully embodies the principles of nature which under lie the art and that seems to allow them tremendous freedom of expression and spontaneity.
Hour after hour we stepped back out on the mats, savoring all that our Senseis were offering us, not wanting to miss an opportunity to receive it directly from them. I resorted alternately to icing my knee and visiting the Jacuzzi, eating extra protein, falling into bed early, waking up each morning ready for more. By Sunday afternoon we had passed beyond fatigue to that place where training continues somehow, after class has ended.
Our three master teachers who manifest aikido so differently are ironically, I reflected, actually “different outside, same inside!”
As usual, a truly amazing array of aikidoists attended the Florida Winter Camp this year and one new friend from California – an eye surgeon who loves to surf – described to me how photographers capture some of those incredible surfing pictures: the hard way, by hanging out, floating in the waves, possibly getting “turned inside out” in the process of getting the shots! The atmospheric photo shown above was discovered as I “surfed” the web for inspiration on “inside out.”

Sunday, November 1, 2009

the weaker sex



Entertaining as it may be, this film clip from the 1930’s actually demonstrates beautifully the fundamental principles of the martial arts. O’Sensei synthesized elements of ju-jitsu, judo and traditional swordsmanship, and incorporated his spiritual outlook and practices into what he called the art of aikido.

Ms. May Whitley has style and grace -- balance, timing and proper distance, she uses her lowered center of gravity, she works with whatever attack comes her way -- all the while holding her purse and keeping her hair in place. I love her matter-of-fact approach. She is not full of ego or grand gestures, but has a kind of quiet and natural composure which can be “dis-arming” in and of itself. She also demonstrates a refreshing economy and simplicity of movement.

As a senior woman on the aikido mat I often have to find creative ways to adapt myself to my male training partners who sometimes assume that they are entitled to boss me around, for any number of reasons, which you can probably well-imagine even in these terribly enlightened times in which men and women are supposed to be living!

Usually I choose to let my actions speak louder than words -- the iron-fist-in-the-velvet-glove kind of approach, meaning that I focus, soften and clarify my technique, leaving no room for superfluous comments. Aikido is really an art where women may excel and the feminine, receptive, flexible and intuitive parts of our natures serve us well – if we allow them expression and trust in their power.

Make no mistake, proper aikido training will make you “strong”, but it is not external, muscular force which confers its power. Timing, distance, calmness, expanded awareness, softness on the outside with reduced internal tension all allow access to the expression of contained inner energy – these are the qualities which set it apart from common forms of physical training and exercize and which also make it an art.

Proper aikido training will also I believe strengthen in each of us the aspect we are lacking in our masculine/feminine balance. Soft strength, power without force, subtlety of timing, expanded awareness – these are qualities I value and why women are particularly valuable as aikidoists, when we begin to be able to express the powerful qualities of “the weaker sex.”

This one is for Aleksandra, of course not because she belongs to the weaker sex, but because I promised to share this video with her almost a year ago. Aleks happens to be the most enthusiastic aikido student I have ever had the pleasure to know. She is not only energetic, she is truly passionate about learning and extremely open and receptive. Her infectious enthusiasm always brings a breath of fresh air to the dojo.

Saturday, October 17, 2009

alchemy


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1. a form of chemistry and speculative philosophy . . . concerned principally with discovering methods for transmuting baser metals into gold and with finding . . . an elixir of life.
2. any magical power or process of transmuting a common substance, usually of little value, into a substance of great value.

Somehow my imagination has been captured by the magic of the precious metals – silver and gold, silver and gold…they seem to be everywhere! I even woke in the night hearing in my mind the repeating round known to every Girl Scout: ‘make new friends, but keep the old – one is silver and the other gold.’ Over and over, silver and gold . . . what does it mean?
Autumn is always a bittersweet time of the year for me, and now especially so -- a foretaste of endings and promise of new beginnings to come -- eventually. I’m enjoying the last days of lingering light, fluttering golden leaves in Central Park and the final touches of warmth here in New York – and, to my astonishment, I’ve somehow fallen in love with the City again after months of wishing to be elsewhere.
Such an unusually challenging year has passed since my last entry “called back to basics” and I’ve been recently yearning to share and write again, particularly as the past month has been so full of important experiences -- aikido seminars and Alexander Technique immersions, and of course, horse riding. Much is shifting in my concept of riding, my awareness and in my own body mechanics -- the synergy between all my passionate pursuits feels luxurious right now. As always, the passage through difficulty has transported me to the present, where, in contrast, my current circumstances seem especially rich.
This year, I’ve also experienced the shadow side of power, in politics and manipulation. And as long as we are human beings living on earth the shadow will be contained in all our experiences, all of our so-called elevated endeavors and enlightened groups. Silver – could it represent the shadow side, the silver of reflected moonlight contrasted with the true and direct golden light of the sun? I have usually chosen to ignore the shadow side of life, in others, and in myself.
Now I have begun to see the power and beauty of embracing both aspects, shadow and light, silver and gold. One is silver and the other – gold. How could it be otherwise? They are most fully appreciated in relation to each other. They ebb and flow, the proportion of one to the other shifting and changing. Acknowledgement of the shadow, and non-resistance, begin the process of transmutation.
A photographer friend pointed out that colors seem so much more vivid on an overcast day. The gilded artwork depicting O’Sensei was radiant and the autumn leaves outside the window equally so on the cool and gray weekend we spent with Patricia Hendricks at her recent seminar at ASNJ. Pat is a real treasure – powerful yet soft, her teaching is infused with warmth, compassion and humility. She fully demonstrates martial application while incorporating larger philosophical concepts using her mastery of the Japanese language.