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Original Source: www.fightandtattoo.eu |
I
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was once told that a teacher gives you the
basic technique and the rest is up to you. There are no silver platters in the
martial world laden with every bit of information you will ever need to know.
You work for it.
Oftentimes,
you struggle – by yourself – just to grasp the fundamentals.
The
throws of your Jiu Jitsu teacher may seem like magic to you. They’re so
effortless, so beyond the realm of mere technical prowess, as though the tori and the uke were destined to meet one day in this circle of throwing and
falling. His osoto gari (outer
reaping throw) cuts down and in behind the uke’s leg. The uke’s body rises and turns in the air as though predestined, eons
ago. As he was meant to, the uke
falls lightly, effortlessly, blending with the mat. The throw and the fall are
symbiotic. One depends upon the other.
During
the best moments of Judo and Jiu Jitsu. no one fails. The roles of both uke and tori remain steadfastly important.
A
knife slices through the air and an Aikido-ka turns and blends with the attack.
At once, her movement is one of deep sophistication and deep simplicity. The
attacker leaves the rhythm of his attack and enters into the swirl of the
Aikido-ka’s defense. They blend in motion. During practise, the attacker trusts
where the Aikido-ka is taking him. He must. He’s already inside the spiral –
and there is no turning back.
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Morihei Ueshiba Source: www.equi-nox.ne |
The
Aikido-ka also has to remain egoless in order to sense the attacker’s being and
redirect it toward a graceful conclusion. No ego barrier can come between her
and the signals the attacker sends out. The Aikido-ka places her trust in her hara and her fullness of being.
(This
was the genius of the founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba – to redirect extreme savagery,
allowing it to spiral and fall into peace, leaving the attacker unhurt).
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Great Kung Fu teacher Wang Zi Ping Source:www.helenwutaichistudio.com |
In
Kung Fu, I might have asked a question here and there over the span of several
lessons. You were taught and perhaps if you were lucky, an application was
shown. You were expected to do the rest. If you trained, you evolved. If you
didn’t train, you stopped learning.
In
some old school Dojo, the student doesn’t ask, in fact he doesn’t say a word.
He follows. In Tai Chi, I just followed. There were no explanations.
The
miracle occurred when the sound of my own voice was no longer allowed to get in the
way. For the first time, I managed to listen…to
the life beat of the martial art as our group moved from one technique to the
next, to my breathing, to the blood running through my body, to the noises from
the street outside.
What
a precious thing it was for me to find out that the art was talking to me.
Slowly, Tai Chi began to reveal itself, to teach me. Then only did the teacher begin
to make the odd correction, as a teacher does in any highly traditional martial
art.
The
martial arts aren’t condensed into a high school textbook with the answers at
the back. The teacher doesn’t take you from A to Z in time for your exams. The
teacher points the way to the language of the art. Your fluency is your
priority, not the teacher’s. Train, long and hard, experience the culture of
the art and remain humble so you can grow inside the art.
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