Wednesday, November 2, 2011
Big oak leaf
On my walk today I came across a huge oak leaf…it was mostly green with red edges. This leaf would have been huge on a big tree. However, this really big oak leaf was clinging to a single twig that was growing from a dead wood pile. The twig is about a foot and a half high and literally a twig. I can’t give you a dimension because I can’t talk that small.
So the huge leaf is hanging there and I started thinking about what would happen to this leaf when it let go. It probably would fall directly under where it hung and eventually turn into soil. I went out this afternoon to take some pictures of the leaf for my blog and it was still hanging there. I wonder if leaves let go easily or do they have to have their grips pried off like I do sometimes.
I notice when I let go of things and don’t try to fix me or others, my life is just fine. When I get into fix mode is when I get into problems. I neglect my own work, play and study and get busy with others. I notice that others don’t love to be fixed. They don’t love to be fixed even when I am undercover and they don’t know I am fixing them. They can still feel the energy they may just not know where it is coming from. I can tell, though. When I am sticking my hand, head or heart into somewhere where it’s not supposed to be it hurts. I feel really uncomfortable and often my stomach is in knots.
Aikido practice helps me notice when I shifted out of myself and onto fixing someone else. There is a difference between fixing and really helping. Fixing feels bad because my motives are bad. I have the, “I know better” state of mind. Helping feels okay because I am not attached to the outcome. I can help and have no hands on the results.
When I am nage I can practice patient and tolerance, and then guide my uke. If I am feeling impatience or lack of tolerance, I notice in my body. My hands will feel grabby or I will feel frustrated with how uke is moving. I know when I am trying to muscle my uke around by my inner reaction. If I am complaining about my uke in my head I know I am doing something ineffective.
Uke is like the big green, red tinged oak leaf hanging on her tiny branch until it is time to let go. When that time comes I guide her gently through the motions of the throw to a positive resolution of a gentle but powerful fall.