On Aikido Training

An excerpt from the 1938 Training Manual, “Budo”, by the Founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba. Translated by Mark L. Larson 5th dan.

1. Aikido can determine life or death with a single blow; therefore, when training, observe the directions of the instructor and do not engage in contests of strength.

2. Aikido is a Way that makes one person the equivalent of thousands; therefore, when training, always be mindful not only of the space in front of you, but also what is happening in all directions.

3. Training should always be an enjoyable experience.

4. An instructor can only impart a portion of the teachings. To be able to use a technique, you must learn it through diligent and ceaseless training. Only then will you begin to remember with your body. It is pointless to desire to learn many techniques. To master a technique, you must make it your own.

5. Daily training begins with Tai no Henko*. Gradually increase the intensity of your training. Make sure not to overexert your body. Even older persons should not injure themselves. Continue to train enjoyably and strive to realize the purpose of training.

6. Aikido is training of the mind and body. Its purpose is to produce sincere people. Since all techniques are entirely secret, you should not reveal them indiscriminately to the public. The improper use of any technique by ill-mannered persons is to be avoided.

*NOTES:

In some places, this excerpt from the training manual, is translated as “daily practice begins with light movements of the body” (Kisshomaru Uyeshiba, Aikido, page 174 Rules During Practice 1966) or “in daily training begin with basic movemnents” (John Stevens transalation of Budo, page 38 Precautions for Training 1991).

I asked, Mark Larson Sensei, who prepared the translation of O’Sensei’s stipulations about training for inclusion in the book, “Budo” by Saito Sensei and he, very kindly, re-checked and confirmed that:

“in my copy Saito Sensei made from Zenzaburo Akazawa’s original Budo book from the Founder it does specifically list the Japanese “Tai no henko”.

 

For some a generalised description might suffice. But for practitioners from the Iwama Dojo who practised under Saito Sensei, O’Sensei’s devoted deshi and longest serving student, the distinction is important. Saito Sensei always began practice with tai no henko, at every class, such was its importance, and he said that was because O’Sensei always began practice in this same way.

We start with tai-no-henko

Learning to turn the body, or tai-no-henko is an important practice from the Iwama Dojo.

In Morihei Ueshiba’s 1938 training manual “Budo” it is stated that “daily practice begins with tai no henko“ (see point 5 of the section entitled “How to Practice”). According to Saito Sensei, performing tai-no-henko from katate-dori (one hand gripped) was the way O’Sensei began each class and it was the way Saito Sensei himself began every class in the Iwama dojo or when he was teaching a seminar overseas.

Teachers trained in Iwama all begin their practice with tai no henko, certainly that is the method of training in the Takemusu Aiki Association. The picture below is of Takayasu Sensei performing tai no henko in the Iwama dojo in 2001.

Tai no henko is both fundamental and foundational. It is fundamental because it is part of the basic moves that any student is required to learn (often the first technique that is taught). It is foundational as it is the basis of the practice by seniors. More complex and advanced moves are developed from the ability to perform tai no henko with speed, balance and power. The Founder taught that: “Practising this tai no henko, you will build up strong and stable hips which will never be affected whether your partner pushes or pulls you.”

As with all practices which are done regularly and appear simple to execute, the deeper meaning of the movement is often elusive. And simple movements are always difficult to do well every time. That is why we do it again and again and again.

It is significant for me in the practice of tai no henko that one does not try to turn away in a circular fashion from an opponent’s power – although that appears to be the result. Rather it is necessary to enter straight into conflict with the opponent. Here there is an apparent contradiction between the ways of conflict and that of coordination that is practised in Aikido. The key is the point at which one turns off the line of attack. It is the point of the interface between your power and that of your opponent.

Learning to Walk

I had trained in karate for over 9 years and thought as a black belt I had reached a senior level of understanding. But after just 6 months of practising Shindo Musu-ryu Jodo, my teacher said to me: “You do not know how to walk properly – you are walking on your heels!”.

“So”  I thought. “doesn’t everybody?”

It took me some years to understand that Japanese martial artists don’t, and many more years to learn to walk the way they do.

I recently came across a similar story, told far more graphically by C. W. Nicol in his book “Moving Zen“. In 1962, as a young man he had travelled to Japan to study Karate. He immersed himself in Japanese Budo, married a Japanese girl, learnt the language and was learning about Japanese customs. He told this story:

My mother-in-law had bought me Japanese formal dress, and with great patience and peals of laughter from my wife, she had taught me how to wear it properly, and how to tie the complicated folded bow that brought the long tapes of the skirt-like “hakama” together. Resplendent in this dress, feeling very dignified, I went out to visit my friend Ikeda, and walked along the little lanes, enjoying the crisp coldness of the winter air, the chattering of jays, wind tugging at a scarecrow in a field, high lenticular clouds swimming like fish over the Kanto plain.

At my friend’s house, his wife served green tea and sweet cakes, and we shared a small flagon of sake. He too was in formal dress, and we posed together for a photograph in front of the ancient farm house. As we went back into the house he noticed that mud was spattered up the back of my hakama.

“See what you have done! This is because you are not walking from the hips, like this!” He demonstratcd thc gliding walk that is so different from the bobbing swagger of the Westerner. As I walked, the heels of my “zori” had flipped mud up my back. Damn it, I couldn’t even walk right! I would have to practice. Under Ikeda’s tuition I began to learn how the samurai walked, balance always under fine control, gliding from the hips.