Sunday, October 27, 2019

Fall down seven times, stand up eight

Recently, Satu and I joined a local Aikido Dojo.

When I was in my late teens and 20's, I practiced with a great dojo in Florida. Though I didn't get to stick with it for more than a few years, I always felt like that kind of training made me feel more like myself. Your brain can't worry about other stuff, and you get to just focus on trying to learn something and piece together all these little lessons about your body and movement and connection and balance. There is no room left in my brain to feel insecure and everyone's body and skill set is so different that I don't feel competitive or compared to anyone.

Satu is an introvert and completely new to Aikido. For her, learning this new thing is full of emotional sinkholes you would never know are there. I think it is just the way dojos teach this art. There aren't that many core techniques, but there are endless variations of the same interactions. She wants to know if the left foot goes first or if the right foot goes sideways or back before she can move on. That would work for Karate, because there are forms you have to learn and definite ways to do them. In aikido, you can spend decades doing different versions of the same technique and always be learning something new for each interaction.

Half of whether something works has to do with your partner. The other half is how you connect with your partner. You will not ever get it right the first time you try it, but that has to be okay. You have to not get embarrassed by where you are on any given day. No one ever expects the new person to get it right, they just want to show you a little piece every time and eventually you can start putting those pieces together in ways that feel more natural. It forces you to practice learning things that you don't know you are learning like how to absorb motion, where is the floor in relation to the rest of your body, how to hang on without anticipating what you think is going to happen and how to not feel embarrassed when you have o try again and again.

I hope that Satu can put down her expectations of herself and enjoy the art long enough for us to have some new ways to learn the world together, but I do remember how frustrated I was in the beginning. The techniques are long and confusing. No one told me on my first class that we would clap when we bow in.  People had to tell me to sit down or get lower when Sensai decides to break in and teach something. The first time I took a test, I ran off the mat as soon as it was over and all the black belts laughed at me and shouted for me to come back and bow out.

That was kind of embarrassing in the moment, but everyone has those moments and remembers what that feels like. That's why experienced people try to work with the beginners. It's not actually a drag. Learning to break down the complex moves helps you understand and be more intentional about what you are doing. No one gets every interaction right.

I don't know how to help Satu through the feelings she is having, but I feel like if she finds her way to enjoying the art and the people in our dojo, it will change her life in a good way. Maybe not, but that kind of emotion doesn't just spring up for no reason.