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.