Years ago, when Mizukami Sensei was alive, teaching Aikido, he had his Black Belts, like me, attend different Aikido Seminars in the Southern California area. Sensei’s explicit instructions: Do what the Sensei does. Don’t do what I do. Do what they do at their Dojo. Get a good workout.
So I attended various Seminars for about 10 years. A few were pretty good. Others were not at all useful, at least from my parochial perspective. Aikido Seminars were usually on weekends. So I knew I’d talk with Sensei the following Sunday.
When I came to class, Sensei asked, “So what did you learn? Anything good?” Often, I’d say, “No, not really. A lot of the (Aikido) technique isn’t going to work if you have to use it…” Sensei smiled, “Show me.”
I’d show him the technique I learned in the Seminar, and say, “But it doesn’t work if the other guy is holding strong.” Sensei smiled, again. He said it would work if I get my opponent’s head moving. “Move the head, move the mind. The body follows the mind.” He demonstrated that by dropping my center to get under the opponent, I could throw. Sensei didn’t make other Sensei wrong. He just made the technique work.
I recalled training with Sensei many years ago, when he could take falls. We were in an Aikido Seminar at our Dojo with a Shihan (8th-degree Black Belt) from Japan. We were practicing morote-tori (two hands grabbing my wrist) technique which made no sense to me. I looked at Mizukami Sensei, “WTF?” Sensei smiled. He told me to drop my elbow under his hands and move him to my center. I throw moving my center forward. It worked. Sensei made it work, again.
Sure, Sensei thought there was a lot of ‘bad’ Aikido being taught. Yet, he never said that the way he did Aikido was the right way. Over the years, I got from Sensei: You do what works. What works wasn’t necessarily pretty or fancy. I had to make the Aikido technique work against any attack, regardless of the size, speed or strength of the attacker. I throw ‘one time’. The attacker is on the mat.
For years, Sensei smiled as he listened to me complain about how bad some of the Aikido techniques were at the Seminars. He told me that if Aikido Founder O-Sensei were alive, his Aikido would also look different, too. O-Sensei would have evolved his Aikido over the years. There are all kinds of Aikido, good and bad, because there are all kinds of people, who practice Aikido. I got that I needed to get over myself, too.
Sensei reminded me that I was never really going to learn anything new in a several-hour seminar. Learning anything new required repetition: doing it over and over and over and over again. Yeah, I knew first hand of what he spoke. Just saying.
Sensei told me that when I go a Seminar, find a good black belt to train with. Just work out. That was the true value of the Seminar. That made a whole lot of sense. I got that I needed to give up being right about my technique, too. Sensei taught me the bigger picture, again.
Sensei was as good as they come in Aikido. No, he wasn’t the Aikido GOAT (Greatest of All-Time). He was my GOAT Sensei. Sensei was the humblest Man that I knew on Planet Earth. I’m proud that I got to share in his life. He contributed to the man I’m proud to be. As good as I got in Aikido, he always reminded that I had more to work on, more to learn. He said, “Just train.”
I remember passing my Sandan (3rd-degree black belt) test on a Sunday back in 1999. The following Thursday in Sensei’s class, we were back at it. Yes, I was proud that I was Sandan. I think Sensei was, too. That was the past. What there was to do: Work on my timing and distance, wait out the attack just a little longer, match up with the attack, awase. I worked on the next greater-than version of myself. I just trained. Just train was his Lesson in Humility. Be humble.
Sensei really didn’t care how good I got. What mattered was that I came to practice. That I put in the work. That I passed on what I learned. That I was a good man outside the Dojo. That I was humble.
All that being said, humility wasn’t necessarily a big deal, at least from where I began. Growing up at home, I got that I would never be good enough, never be good enough for Dad, who terrified me as a child. In my years of Aikido training, working with my therapist Lance, meditation, and writing, l gradually learned to love and forgive myself.
In the bigger picture, loving myself isn’t narcissism, the overblown assessment of me. Loving me is being kinder to me, and accepting my imperfections and my strengths. Sensei’s humility taught me to have grace for all those who contributed to me becoming the greater man. Humble is being thankful, being grateful for those who listen and see me as greater than I know. We can always learn something new, become our greater-than selves. We are humble in who we are now.
Before the COVID-19 pandemic quarantine, I shared about my Aikido training with Joanne from my Saturday step aerobics class. I like Joanne so much. I demonstrated an Aikido principle in matching up with the attack. She got it. She thought that was so cool.
I told Joanne that I’m a 4th-degree black belt. That I’ve been training in Aikido for 30 years. She said, “So you’re an Aikido Master.” I smiled, “No, I’m not.” Sensei would have smiled at that. Be humble. Really, I still have a lot to learn, a lot to work on, not only in Aikido. Just saying.
***
Improve your writing, expand your reach, and monetize your craft.
Join The Good Men Project’s Writers’ Community on Patreon.
We welcome all experience levels.
Learn more on our Patreon page.
***
Photo Credit: Shutterstock
The post Really, Be Humble appeared first on The Good Men Project.
