Aikido as a way of life.

I started playing basketball and baseball really early. I had 5 older brothers….it was our culture….we ran, we hid, we threw balls and caught them or got hit in the face. One of the first things I remember my father telling me was “keep your eye on the ball” as he pitched a baseball.  I would shoot at the hoop on my brother Dickie’s 6 foot 4 shoulders when I was just a peanut. Movement is my spiritual practice.  If I am walking or riding my bike or playing mitt’s and sticks with Ron, you know I am happy. So aikido was a natural for me. Not that I knew it when I started. I just thought Ron was a fine looking fella, to quote my mother. For the 1 st year I stumbled about not having a clue. Not one clue. I did not understand the whole concept of being uke. Why would anyone want to fall down?  I could not roll…not at all. It was very scary and pitiful. I used to hide at the end of the line but the guys would push me up and encourage me even though every roll and every fall hur

With so much brown belt energy around it seemed as if the dojo might explode like a teenager does when confronted by a parent: Hurdling accusations, running in fear, hiding in the woods, peeking out to see if it is safe to come out. The dojo is not just a physical space. It is a combination of energies that synergize to hold us all when we are weak or strong, emotional, vulnerable, serene or hurting. We can be ourselves here in this place of mutual respect where we learn to give and get. We can hold space and energy for people here and we can receive both when we are in need. Our dojo is not for everyone. One must be very brave and have fortitude to stay when the very naked aspect of our true selves arrive. The dojo can hold space for most of us. But it cannot fix issues that must be addressed in other ways. We are what we are, which is strong, true and even magnificent. Aikido training can complement our path and it can enhance self-knowledge and self-defense.  A