Quote for the year

Feeling all bright and looking forward to the new year today.

Here is my quote for the year 2009:

"Be the change you wish to see in the world"

Mahatma Gandhi

Some sadness

Most of you will still remember the outbreak of the Xenophobic attacks in May in South Africa. Those of you who know me will also know that after my return from Germany I got very involved in working with a group of Facilitators dealing with the situation in the Western Cape.

Now, months after my personal involvement in the initial process ended I am slowly starting to realise a sadness that has settled deep under the surface. Going back to an email that I wrote to a friend in August I remember my thoughts and concerns at the time. I had started the work with hardly any experience in the field knowing that "In a situation like this - even with the best of all intentions – you can do harm if you don't understand the context and if you don't think and act for the long-term."

So I worked very hard at understanding as much as possible of the context whilst also just keeping the process going in a time of crisis. But before I took up the work and throughout my involvement in the process I often asked myself why I was doing the work. I needed to make sure that I acted for the “right reason”. Was it real concern about the people? Was it about collectively moving us to a better place filled with respect and compassion? Or was it about me wanting to satisfy an egocentric need to help and “do-good”?

Only once I could answer those questions in a non-egocentric manner was I able to take up the challenge of the work.

Today, more than two months after my work for the provincial government in this respect has ended I feel a deep sadness. I am experiencing a void and a sense of powerlessness. Of course the challenges in the communities out there still remain. That is not a surprise and certainly not the reason for the sadness. The sadness really stems from not having a sense where three months of very hard work are going. Sometimes I have thought that I struggle because of a lack of recognition and appreciation of the work that we put in. But the longer I sit with it I realise that I do not feel a need for someone to appreciate my contribution. The one need I feel is to get a sense that the work was not wasted. Where are things moving to from here? What is the situation out there for those who have re-located into communities?

There are multiple factors (only some of which I understand) that have made it very difficult to take my own involvement forward. In addition it has become almost impossible to get a sense of how those who hold power over processes are taking the work further.

I have also seen how personal and political relationships and power-struggles have continuously compromised the implementation of concepts around values we often share. Recently, as we are moving into the longer-term phase of the reintegration-efforts, this has become particularly obvious and admittedly particularly painful for me.

So those are some of the reasons for the sadness I feel. Nevertheless I would do it again. I would approach many things differently but as difficult as it has been I do not regret a single day. I feel grateful to everyone I have worked with for teaching me hugely valuable lessons and I know that the sadness has its place and the joy will find its way again too.

I want

I want you to listen to with me without judging me.
I want you to voice your opinion without giving me advice.
I want you to trust me without expectations.
I want you to help me without deciding for me.
I want you to take care of me without suffocating me.
I want you to see me without seeing yourself in me.
I want you to embrace me without smothering me.
I want you to encourage me without insisting
I want you to hold me without holding onto me.
I want you protect to me, genuinely.
I want you to approach me but not as an invader.
I want you to know what you dislike about me.
For you to accept it and not try to change it.
I want you to know…. that today you can count on me.
Unconditionally.

By Jorge Bucay
Translated by me
So please feel free to correct me!

Ich Will - Quiero

Ich will, daß du mir zuhörst, ohne über mich zu urteilen Quiero que me oigas sin juzgarme

Ich will, daß Du Deine Meinung sagst, ohne mir Ratschläge zu erteilen Quiero que opines sin acensejarme

Ich will, daß du mir vertraust, ohne etwas zu erwarten Quiero que confies en mi sin exigirme

Ich will, daß du mir hilfst, ohne für mich zu entscheiden Quiero que me ayudes sin intentar decidir por mi

Ich will, daß du für mich sorgst, ohne mich zu erdrücken Quiero que me cuides tin anularme

Ich will, daß du mich siehst, ohne dich in mir zu sehen Quiero que me mires sin proyectar tus cosas en mi

Ich will, daß du mich umarmst, ohne mir den Atem zu rauben Quiero que me abraces sin asfixiarme

Ich will, daß du mir Mut machst, ohne mich zu bedrängen Quiero que me animes sin empujarme

Ich will, daß du mich hältst, ohne mich festzuhalten Quiero que me sostengas sin hacerte cargo mi

Ich will, daß du mich beschützt, aufrichtig Quiero que me protejas sin mentiras

Ich will, daß du dich näherst, doch nicht als Eindringling Quiero que te acerques sin invadirme

Ich will, daß du all das kennst, was dir an mir mißfällt Quiero que conozcas las cosas mías que más te disgusten

Daß du es akzeptierst, versuch es nicht zu ändern Que las aceptes y no pretendas cambiarles

Ich will, daß du weißt ... daß du heute auf mich zählen kannst ... Quiero que sepas ... que hoy puedes contar conmigo ...

Bedingungslos. Sin condiciones.

(Jorge Bucay)

Reflections on my Shodan grading

I memorize a conversation I had a few months ago with my friend and local Aikido teacher in Cape Town. We were meeting up regularly outside the general classes so that I could prepare for my Shodan grading in Germany.

“Sometimes I really am unsure why I am doing all this” I said. “What difference does it make to my life and those around me? I am investing all this time and am going through all this effort and financial burden of going to Germany – all for this grading. But what difference does it really make?”

Well, the grading is behind me now and I am at another Aikido seminar reflecting on these questions. In the context of my situation in South Africa the question still makes complete sense. One is a little lonely there with a martial Art like Aikido – but that is not the primary point right now.

I worked hard for this grading on various levels; firstly in practicing on the tatami but also in getting the money together (which in this case wasn’t an easy exercise) and of course in going through the techniques over and over again. Admittedly I was fairly dissatisfied with myself when I left South Africa to go to Europe where the grading would take place three weeks later; not so much because of the technical shortcomings that still needed to be ironed out but because of the personal space I was in.

For me Aikido is a lot more than a hobby. It is a way of relating to the world, particularly to myself and those around me. So as much as I practiced to be clear and precise, relaxed centred and flowing in my movement I needed to be the same in my mind and heart. But I wasn’t. I felt that on the inside and in my personal relationships I was tight. Things felt clouded and not flowing or centred at all at the time I left for Europe.

Well eventually I accepted it and when I arrived in Paris I completely immersed myself in the training at week-long seminar with Christian Tissier Shihan, trusting that the training would work its way into me as it always had. And it did. This was a truly special time and afterwards I continued my training on a daily basis in Berlin.

I was starting to get into the flow until my mind tightened up completely a few days before the grading. I remember fighting the tears almost through an entire class – feeling as if I had understood nothing. The techniques felt foreign. I had lost touch with my body, my mind was hopelessly lost and I felt like curling up in a corner and dropping the whole idea of a Shodan grading.
After four hours of training on that day I took a “white grading” (test-run) and afterwards really felt so finished that I couldn’t even feel nervous anymore.

Over the following week I started to relax and eventually felt incredibly calm. I knew I really had done all I possibly could. Well, of course when I arrived at the grading, when the grading panel (including my teacher) took their seats and the energy in the room became palpable – I was nervous.

The grading itself went well. It was a very special experience and then it was over. I spent the evening with a friend from my dojo who had come with me as my first “uke” (person that offers the attack) and we had a fantastic time. On the next day we went back to Berlin and life and training continued as usual. The grading of course didn’t change me and I just enjoyed being able to practice again without the thought of a test in the back of my head.

Well, having said that the grading didn’t change me I need to add that a few days later the answers to my initial questions started to crystallize completely naturally and without any effort - just as on the tatami you cannot force a particular technique. If you want it too much it does not work – and if it does it is not Aikido and probably inflicts some sort of pain or discomfort somewhere along the way.

So slowly but surely the meaning of all the weeks and years of continuous training of body, mind and heart followed by the grading started to unfold.

There are actually only three things I have learned:

I have a sense of what “Moving from the centre” really means.

I feel when I resist and try to force.

I do not need to prove anything – neither to others nor to myself.

Well, to people that practice Aikido at any level the first two points are very familiar as we aim to consciously practice them all the time. Nevertheless I feel that around the time of my Shodan grading the understanding of these two concepts has shifted from a more intellectual one to an understanding of the heart, mind and body. I sense this on the tatami as well as in my life outside the dojo. Circumstances have not really changed much. There are many uncertainties and challenges in my life, but knowing my centre and the moments of my own resistance has filled me with a different calmness, a different strength and an openness that is much more honest than before.

The third point is maybe a little less obvious even to those that have practiced Aikido for a while. To me it is equally important and besides the Aikido training my meditation practice has helped me a lot with this aspect.

I never used to see myself as a particularly competitive person, but Aikido has led me to a much more subtle level and that meant the very unpleasant realisation of just how critical I really was and how hard that can make me. Just the seeing of this allowed for a shift. Today I have so much more fun at classes and I learn so much more allowing myself to be imperfect. And again, outside the dojo I feel it too. Just by stopping to prove things to myself life feels lighter and integrity simpler – it has even changed my ability to love.

Having said all this I want to add one more point and that is that I now really know what it means when they say that having your Shodan means that now you can start learning Aikido. This is how I feel –like a beginner looking forward to all the things I can learn.

Shared Lonliness

You say you want trust
Looking for it in my sacrifice
Craving to reach within
You

I stretch
Hesitate
Sacrifice

Meet you in illusion
Dreaming of your touch

As I awake and reach out
Your hands are frozen
Your eyes blurred
Our love caged

You ask for the key
See the tears in my eyes
Crying at the betrayal
And my own foolishness
Of believing

My sacrifice would satisfy
Your hunger for trust
In my love
And the truth