Suburi

Picciola Sensei tends to say that aikido is a martial art and a lifestyle. To exemplify this he uses the ukemi as reference and compares it to life: you fall and get up, fall and get, fall and get up. I share this vision of aikido and life and I’d like to give another example, if I may.

When we practice suburi we have to pay attention to infinite details (I’ll just mention the ones I know, then we can add others): the right stand, the back straight, the attitude forward, the advanced leg slightly flexed, the sight forward (where the opponent would be), the body relaxed, the hands firm; when we perform the suburi we have to rise our arms over the head, don’t nod, the sword gets to the back, and cuts the center. The sword mustn’t fall; we guide the sword, not the other way about. Then, if we practice with a partner, the thing is even more complex: both have to be as fast; the slow one must try to reach the fast one and the fast one must try to cope with the slow one; the sight in the partner, this’ll tell us when to attack. If the attack is advanced, we mustn’t do it with much impetus (my regular mistake) but with the just and necessary to get to the opponent: the tip of the sword is enough (to advance more than necessary means to self knife with the opponent’s sword). The attack must always be in the center. If both attack at the same time in the center the swords should meet there. If I give so many details – and a lot others can be added – is because the point I’m trying to make matters. This are the common mistakes in group classes (I speak from my experience): we seek the sword, we don’t attack the center; no harmony in the attacks, meaning they aren’t at the same time; we do three good attacks out of ten and the rest wrong; as I said before, if we advance, we knife our self with the opponent’s sword because we hurry; we automate and don’t listen to the sensei’s instructions (an old, still interesting game, because we always step on the stick) that, still knowing so and trying so, don’t rise the arms and nod, or the sword falls, or cuts the sides, or does it short, or with the arms flexed, or… I think I’ve made the point.

Well, to do a suburi technically correct is very difficult; and to do it with a partner is even more difficult. It is very complex to do suburi and if you do it right your partner may not. If both do it right, the swords should meet in the center. If one of you makes it wrong, there’s still a chance the swords meet in the center, but it is just not the same: you know you’re doing it wrong. This is my point: in life, like in aikido, to do things right demands a really big effort; finding yourself the right way to do things is a lifetime job, doing them along with a partner is an infinite job: you can even do things right, but if your partner doesn’t go with you, or does things “right” but in a different way, well…

The difference between aikido and life is that in life you don’t have a sensei to tell how to “live well”. Like Mercedes Sosa used to sing, “no hay escuela que te enseñe a vivir” (“there’s no school that teaches you how to live”).

But that’s just my opinion.

Kampai!

Juan Pablo Fava