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 13, 2009
turning inside out

Tuesday, November 11, 2008
called back to basics

Above is a photo of my home office showing the place where I (used to) sit each morning, catching up on emails, sipping coffee, watching the sunrise over lower Manhattan. . . If I had been sitting there yesterday morning around 9:00 am, I am not certain I would be writing this now.
My experiences at the Centered Riding International Educational Symposium in
In the meantime, below are links to pertinent entries on this blog regarding the Alexander Technique (you can also view the blog by category – choose one from the sidebar, or you can search using the box in the upper left-hand corner). The Alexander Technique bibliography provided at the Symposium, as well as the visual essay I used to illustrate the concept of "use of self" are available HERE . See Website Links in the sidebar for some Alexander Technique-related websites of interest.
This morning, I awoke before dawn and drank my coffee sitting on the floor of my study, reflecting on the scene before me. The debris had not been touched and I was trying to glean something from the juxtaposition of the books (formerly from the top three wall-to-wall shelves above my desk which had come tumbling down). I saw it as a kind of casting of the Runes. What message might I decipher by meditating on how the titles had arranged themselves? Their subjects differed, but they were all somehow related: Albinus on Anatomy, Light on Yoga, The Ease of Being, A Course in Miracles, Beelzebub’s Tales to his Grandson, Vibrational Medicine, The Practice of Freedom, to name only a few. It struck me that this could have been a close call -- or maybe it was a wake-up call.
The Symposium was so very rich with inspiration and information and supportive friends, new and old. I was extremely honored (and more than a bit intimidated) to be sharing the Alexander Technique portion, along with an amazing group of presenters on other bodywork modalities, consisting mainly of senior Centered Riding instructors – all incredibly knowledgeable and highly creative and seasoned teachers. I learned a lot and, in addition, for me it was a call back to basics – a call to get back on the mat and renew my Aikido training which has been interrupted by a stint of PT rehab for a shoulder injury; a call to continue to deepen my understanding of Centered Riding and an impetus to continue to grow in my teaching and expand my relationships with my Alexander colleagues in the wider world.
Entries with an Alexander Technique perspective:
harmony – includes video of aikido women instructors (myself included!)
Thursday, September 4, 2008
weaving in the threads
Right about this time last year, I was still quite intoxicated from that first Centered Riding® Clinic, which was attended when I could almost still count my riding lessons on one hand, and I had to think about how to hold the reins each time I got on the horse. I knew that Centered Riding would change my life, but could never have imagined the depth of the process which was initiated over those four days.
Many of the patient teachers I met then have become my instructors at Lord Stirling Stable and the clinician, Gail Field, has become a friend, Alexander Technique colleague and riding mentor. The early entries on this blog document my meeting with the infamous Annelie, now my dear friend, horse riding idol and most recently, aikido protégé. More than one fellow aikidoist has been inspired by my stories of learning to ride. One has started Centered Riding lessons herself, riding again for the first time in over 30 years.
Last year, one of my aikido women role models, Karen De Paola (Skylands Aikikai), visited me at the Lord Stirling clinic and immediately saw the correlations between the groundwork tools and aikido principles and began making connections to specific aikido techniques. She gave me the timely opportunity to teach at her dojo that evening – a precious hour to take some of what I had been so eagerly absorbing in the riding arena onto the aikido mat. And so the year continued -- with synergy and synchronicity abounding.
It has been a year full of new friendships, renewed relationships, reconnecting important pieces from my past, and integrating parts of myself. I have been very fortunate to attend a variety of Centered Riding clinics and to meet the founder, Sally Swift, last November at the International Symposium in Vermont. So, it was a very happy anniversary last week as I once again attended Gail’s annual clinic at Lord Stirling. This year she asked me to assist her with some hands-on Alexander Technique, I traveled back and forth with Annelie and hosted her at my house, we spent each day in an arena which has come to feel like home and I rode a now-familiar horse.
This process of learning to ride seems to be weaving together all the various threads of my life. It has reminded me of long-forgotten childhood experiences, reconnected me to old colleagues and friends and enhanced and reinvigorated my aikido training. A recent email from a new Alexander Technique mentor, Tommy Thompson, spoke to me about “following your thread carefully” – it's a metaphor which has particular meaning for me now.
Karen De Paola is shown in the video above. Karen has always been a great inspiration to me – she embodies the qualities of calm, relaxed concentration and stillness within movement which are so important in martial arts, horse riding and living!
Friday, August 1, 2008
beautiful, positive, dynamic
Yamada Sensei paused during his Tuesday morning class at the United States Aikido Federation Summer Camp (taking place this week at Stockton College near Atlantic City) to share with us what he feels are the most important aspects of the art.
Here is my interpretation of what he said:
It was only moderately surprising to me to hear him say that, first of all and most importantly, Aikido must be beautiful. That’s my Sensei, I thought – and he has been for nearly 25 years. The grace and symmetry of the movements and a fascination with the interaction have certainly been primary for me, with interest in the martial application developing gradually and a bit later. Now I see that the quality of beauty is not separate from the martial aspect. The elegance is pure physics, probably much the same as when mathematicians refer to certain proofs as “elegant.” Economy and purity of motion produce martial effectiveness.
Aikido must also be positive and this Yamada Sensei demonstrated for us very clearly. By contrasting proper extension, expansion and forward movement with the opposite effects of pulling in with the arms or moving backwards, he looked for a moment like a mere mortal rather than the larger-than-life figure we are used to experiencing on the mat.
Finally he reminded us that Aikido must be dynamic. He emphasized that each technique must have a memorable beginning and a clear ending. As a musician, I know the importance of dynamic variation, and as it happened, Sensei gave the example of a Beethoven symphony he had been listening to that morning – it begins with a strong statement and it has a shape. A trip to the dictionary reminded me that the term “dynamic” relates to energy or to objects in motion, is characterized by continuous change (emphasis mine) and is marked by intensity and vigor.
Although English is not Yamada Sensei’s native language, I believe he succinctly and completely described his Aikido – I can only imagine how eloquent his thoughts might be in Japanese.
The video clip above is from a series of instructional tapes by Yamada Sensei with Donovan Waite taking ukemi. It fully illustrates the beautiful, positive and dynamic qualities of the art of Aikido.
Thursday, June 5, 2008
swing time
The video above communicates volumes about universal principles of body mechanics: Tiger Woods’ golf swing captured exquisitely in slow motion. The aesthetic choices of the filmmaker underscore the classicism of the pure form and remind us why this athlete has achieved an almost mythic status. For me, the primary aesthetic factor is the sheer perfection of his “use of self.” The movement is undeniably beautiful, and it is also mesmerizing . . . I just never seem to tire of watching it.
I can’t seem to resist writing about it either: the still, stable central axis, the grounding which continues in polarity to the raising of his arms, the spiral initiated from the center of the body (pelvis) which is then made manifest, until you see it reaching from the tip of the toe all the way around to the end of the golf club. The slow motion allows us to absorb some of the peaceful expression on his face and the easy quality in his neck area. And do you have any doubt about the power unleashed here?
In looking for other instances of this kind of perfect melding of form and function which have the power to captivate, a variety come to mind – the sensitive and supple dressage rider creating balance and harmony with the horse, an aikido master effortlessly moving through multiple attackers, moments of brilliance during the NBA playoffs, “my” New York hawks soaring nearby and heading out over Central Park, a favorite image of my daughter which captures her in a carefree and buoyant moment. And of course music does this too – a Latin groove, a coloratura’s shimmering riff, a Chopin mazurka, Bill Evans, or a plaintive and haunting solo English horn.
Well what do these disparate performances have in common? Maybe we could call it a lack of separation between the “performer” and the activity. It’s not easy to describe – but you probably feel it too.
“To swing is when an individual player or ensemble performs in such a rhythmically coordinated way as to command a visceral response from the listener; an irresistible gravitational buoyancy that defies mere verbal definition.” (emphasis mine)
--from the Jazz in America website
Maybe that’s what I’m getting at. As the tune says, “it don’t mean a thing if it ain’t got that swing . . .”
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
the power of connection



--From a thread on the T’ai Chi section of the Prairie Winds website
One week recently, I managed to spend more time on a horse than on the aikido mat. When I did get back to training, I found I was particularly sensitive to the concept of connecting with my partner and leading/following the technique to a resolution. I felt like a school horse (but without the requisite patience) and it seemed my rider (training partner) was trying to communicate with me by pushing and pulling me around with muscles and tension. Only some of my more skilled and senior partners were able to blend, connect and lead me without eliciting this reaction. And when I was executing the techniques, I noticed they were most effective when my intention was to maintain a harmonious connection, patiently resisting the urge to push, pull or try to make my partner respond in a particular way.
Learning to join or blend with an attack is the foundation of aikido training. No technique can be effectively executed without the initial awareness which connects you to your attacker. Only after you have connected, is it possible to lead them off balance and neutralize the conflict. The lead is not a pulling which engages individual muscles, but a way of using the whole body organized around the center of gravity. It has a magnetic effect – a drawing in or a seductive quality. There is a kind of stillness within the movement which leaves the aggressor unsuspectingly undisturbed. Once established, I must constantly renew my attention and awareness to maintain the connection. Excess effort breaks the link between us and gives my partner something to struggle against. It requires subtlety of feeling.
Aikido is an art transmitted through touch and mastered through conscious repetition. Description and analysis are incomplete without the kinesthetic reprogramming which takes place each time I feel the energy extend through a technique performed by one of my senior teachers or training partners. At our dojo we are especially blessed to have two direct students of the founder, O’Sensei, as our master teachers. They learned through absorbing the feeling of the art from O’Sensei, so we are receiving aikido through them, and it passes through us to those we touch in our training.
Judy Cross-Strehlke repeatedly encouraged us: “reach the feeling in your riding – don’t get stuck in the information.” The more I am able to follow her advice, the more I find my aikido experience can influence my ability to connect with my horse. In those brief moments of connection, I sense my horse as I might a less-experienced aikido training partner who is relying on me for direction and gentle guidance – they need to feel my softness, timing and clarity of intent. They wish to feel my calmness under stress and they learn through me something about power without force.
So, when does the connection actually begin? Not only does it begin before the moment of physical contact, one of my favorite aikido teachers suggests that the technique begins even before we enter the dojo. Sara and Michael Stenson of Prairie Winds Equine Massage Therapy suggest that the therapeutic treatment you offer the horse begins the moment the horse notices you. Judy told us that each morning when she opens her eyes (anywhere from 4:30 am to 6:30 am) and sits up in bed, she will invariably hear one of her horses call to her from a far off paddock still obscured by mist. Their awareness so far exceeds ours -- I think this is why they captivate me and how they have seduced me.
My first small iMovie project is in progress, intended to convey some of the flavor of connection as an aspect of aikido training (coming soon). In the meantime, above are some still images taken from informal video footage, filmed during a break between aikido classes. Jaime Kahn, a longtime friend and training partner (who is also a wonderful photographer) helped me explore connection through the wrist-grab attack and a technique called kaiten-nage.
Friday, October 19, 2007
harmony
The video shown here is courtesy of Sergio & Candice Cuevas and is the introductory collage of a DVD documenting a series of aikido seminars by women instructors in 2006. It is a short, beautifully-edited piece which shows aikido’s principles in action throughout, while highlighting individual personalities. I am honored to be included, especially among these powerful, centered, accomplished women –- my teachers, friends and training partners: Karen De Paola (Skylands Aikikai), Laura Pavlick (Litchfield Hills Aikikai), Claire Keller, Ruth Peyser and Sharon Silberstein (The New York Aikikai).
ai – ki – do
a Japanese martial art based on joining with and then redirecting an attacker’s energy through the use of circular and spiral movements
ai = love, harmony
ki = energy, life force
do = way or path
a method for harmonizing the life force, a path to loving all beings
A Japanese sensei (master teacher) of ours recently told me that he felt that one of the common translations of aikido “The Way of Harmony” did not adequately describe what O’Sensei (Morihei Ueshiba, the founder of aikido) was working towards in his development of the art. This teacher had been an apprentice to the founder and his recollection was that O’Sensei never spoke about aikido in this way. He spoke of it as being “your relationship to your God” and that was about all he ever said, leaving it to each individual to find the meaning of that phrase through repetition of the techniques. This implies a very personal process -- both an internal journey and a finding of your place in the world.
Back to the dictionary:
harmony - congruity of parts with one another and with the whole
1. agreement, accord, harmonious relations
2. a consistent, orderly, or pleasing arrangement of parts; congruity
3. Music:
a) any simultaneous combination of tones
—Synonyms 1. concord, unity, peace, amity, friendship. 2. consonance, conformity, correspondence
Well, there is a lot of “peace, love and agreement” in the dictionary’s description. And you may be able to sense some of that in the video, as what starts as an attack seems to somehow end up turning and spiraling around and dissipating. You may also feel the conflict, the power and the martial application. And you will sense the different personalities and energies of the practitioners -- it’s all there on the mat -- a microcosm of our world.
But this condition of harmony does not have to be consonant -- it can also be dissonant (as in 3a above): "any simultaneous combination of tones." In other words, it is not always pretty, in a conventional sense. Things don't always appear to be peaceful and lovely or free of conflict, yet aikido contains, even in the apparent chaos, an underlying order -- “congruity of parts with one another and with the whole.” I think that really says a lot about what happens to a person as they become more integrated within themselves through aikido practice.
The primary means of transmission of aikido was through direct physical contact with O’Sensei, as the students initiated the attacks and had to learn to absorb his powerful response. Learning to absorb a powerful infusion of energy -- this seems to me one of the things we are doing when we ride a horse. You could say the same of sports involving other forces of nature: surfing, skiing, windsurfing. In aikido (and in riding?) we must learn to both absorb and to project energy. One person gives the attack (“uke”) and one person receives the attack (“nage”). Uke takes ukemi -- “ukemi” translates roughly as the art of falling. This interaction has a kind of leader-follower structure, but upon closer observation you may notice that the distinction between who is leading and who is following starts to become less clear. The roles seem to reverse and sometimes seem to contain each other.
So I am wondering what you get out of watching this footage. Do you see a graceful, choreographed dance, a series of conflict resolutions, a playground of energies? No longer able to see aikido from an objective, outside perspective, as I watch, the movements resonate in my muscle fibers. The riders I am meeting all impress me with their ability to see movement in horse, rider and the interaction between the two. Alexander colleagues who worked with Marj Barstow (a horsewoman herself) were all certainly trained to see, both deeply and broadly. So I leave it to each of you to enjoy this small taste of aikido. The beauty of the art and the power of its principles in action inspire me every day. The intense interaction, the connection to a greater power -- these also draw me to horses and help me persevere in riding.
For my Centered Riding friends who have asked about places to learn aikido, visit the website of the United States Aikido Federation to find a list of dojos near you.