Thoughts and reflexions

I would like to thank Tom and Julio who have created this space so that I can share with you, in all simplicity, a few thoughts about the spirit of Aikido. Everything that is here has been written without any pretension. I have inherited it from my spiritual father, sensei André Nocquet. He is in my heart. I would like to pay a deep homage to the quality of its teaching.

 

Oragushi’s challenge | 2010-03-06 02:03:03

In ancient times it often happened that ronins looking for a Master would challenge the Master of a ryu. Or it could also be the member of a particular school of martial arts keen to demonstrate the superiority of his school over others or his own superiority. At the beginning of the twentieth century this custom still existed and Master Ueshiba, because of his fame, was challenged many times. Most often he tried to dissuade the person challenging him, because he considered it was futile.
One day, he saw an impetuous young man come into his dojo, named Oragushi. The latter had just won the Japanese university boxing championships. Still basking in the glow of his recent victory, he wanted to heighten it further by challenging the famous Master. Oragushi told Master Ueshiba that he wished to put him to the test.
- “It’s useless, said the Master, it won’t prove anything!”
- “What do you mean, useless, are you afraid?”
- “No, I just think the test is pointless.”
- “I won’t leave this dojo until you’ve accepted!”
Because of his insistence, Master Ueshiba finally accepted a two minute test. The two men stood face to face and Oragushi rushed at the Master with a hail of blows. Master Ueshiba quietly avoided them one after the other and after the two minutes said:
- “You see I was right, all this is pointless.”
- “No no, I want to continue.”
Because of his stubbornness, Master Ueshiba accepted a second two minute round, which went exactly like the first one. Oragushi, bursting with energy, requested a third round.
- “So you don’t want to understand? said the Master. Well then let’s have another round.”
But during this round, Oragushi delivered a single blow. Master Ueshiba side-stepped and delivered a nearly invisible atemi which fractured his opponents elbow. This ended the test. Oragushi had understood.

Champion of Japan | 2010-02-27 09:57:32

Master Nocquet: “One can either stay at the surface of things or penetrate them deeply. If you learn a great number of techniques, you’ll have a broad knowledge of Aikido. But that knowledge will remain superficial. On the other hand, if you learn just a few techniques, but practise them intensely, your knowledge will be a deep knowledge.”
To illustrate this phrase, I’d like to tell you the following story:
This took place a long time ago. There was a boy who loved judo but he was very poor. He would have liked to enter the judo championships of Japan but he didn’t have any money to take lessons. He questioned a Master who told him: “You like Judo, you would like to become champion of Japan but you have no money for lessons? Well go into the forest, select a tree big and strong, lay your hands on its trunk and kick it with the flat of your right foot for three hours, without interrupting. Practise in that manner every day until the day of the championship.” So that’s what the young boy did, with resolve and tenacity, every day during the six months preceding the competition. The day came, and he inscribed himself for the championships of Japan, and presented himself for his first fight. He bowed to his opponent, approached and seized him at the shoulders with both hands and gave him an incredible foot sweep with his right foot: de ashi barai. “Ippon!” the referee shouted. His first fight was over in five seconds. The young boy presented himself for his second fight and proceeded in the same manner, and from fight to fight he found himself in the finals which he won Ippon, using the only technique he knew: de ashi barai.
What that boy did can serve us as an example. He had the perfect attitude of a good beginner. First he placed total confidence in his Master, without doubting his word, he then practised without hesitation, without talking, without thinking, with steadfastness and willpower. And day after day, the technique became part of him.
Which reminds me of another story not quite so noble, but along the same lines. When I was an Aikido beginner at the summer classes in La Baule, there were two inseparable buddies, L. and J.F. who every evening would go nightclubbing and would always look for a fight to test their Aikido. And invariably they would use the same technique: Iriminage for J.F. and Koshinage for L. I’ll grant you that this anecdote isn’t the expression of the best of spirits. This being said, those two buddies were two charming kids, bon-vivant and not dreary in the least!

Is Aikido suited for adults? | 2010-02-19 17:25:10

The question is of course a little provocative. But one can reasonably wonder why the receptivity of children and adults to an Aikido class is so different.
Unlike adults, children are not lost in doubt, intellectualisation and questioning. They show total and absolute trust towards the teacher. And this makes the teaching very efficient. I remember what Master Nocquet would always say: “The student must have total openness towards the teaching, openness of heart and of mind. Only then can the teaching be transmitted efficiently.”
“The student should immerse himself in the Master’s teaching”
I remember this anecdote: I wanted the children to understand that you are a prisoner of what you own. So I ask my partner to seize my wrist and to hold it strongly. For my part, I keep my hand wide open and then ask them:
- Who’s a prisoner, him or me?
And they all answered:
- Him!
It was the right answer, but I could feel their explanation was not the one I wanted. So I sound surprised and ask them:
- Why him? He’s the one who’s holding me!
- No! No! He’s the one who’s prisoner!
- But why?
- Because you’re the teacher!
Delightful children’s answer, but which shows the confidence they have in the teacher. I could have been tied hand and foot and locked in a trunk and not one of them would have doubted that I could free myself.
This state of mind of the child towards the teaching gives a lot confidence which in turn makes the teaching very effective. If the teacher shows this movement, it must be effective and if I use it when attacked it will be effective. It’s a bit like the way of visualising a movement which Master Nocquet would mention during his classes: “Before the man attacks me, I already visualise him on the ground. Before he even starts to attack, he is already defeated.” When Chloe walked straight towards the biggest and strongest of the gang when she was attacked (see previous article), there was no place for doubt in her mind.
So if I may give a piece of advice to adults: Don’t come to Aikido with your mind but with your heart. Don’t leave place for doubt. If you doubt, you will fail. Keep in your eyes the wonder one finds in the eyes of children. Work without goal, have fun and take pleasure in your practise. Whatever your level in Aikido. It’s the best way to make progress.

Is Aikido suited for children? | 2010-02-13 09:16:25

This question is often asked in Aikido circles. The question is generally put by teachers who don’t have children’s classes. I believe those who do teach children don’t even ask themselves the question. Even more, when I see the magic which occurs in children’s classes, the question I feel like asking is:
“Is Aikido suited for adults?”
What is certain is that you can’t teach children as you do adults, in particular on the technical ground. The movements which involve straining joints (kote gaeshi, nikyo among others) should be avoided or adapted, so as not to damage young growing joints. Kote gaeshi, for example, should be taught with a single hand, with an emphasis on unbalance, but without completing the technique. On the other hand, all movements similar to “kokyu nage” are excellent, as well as randoris.

Classes should be adapted to the age of the children. For the very young, for instance, the emphasis should be on play. When they’re a bit older, one shouldn’t hesitate to initiate them to the spirit of Aikido, in words fit for their age, which will help bring them strong values and solid landmarks which complement the education given by their parents. Etiquette, in particular, teaches them to respect others and how to position themselves in society. I remember young Julien, a boy brimming with energy, who found it very difficult to sit still in silence during seiza, and with whom it took a lot of imagination to keep him quiet. One day his mother told me they were moving to Brittany and that she would try to find a dojo for him over there. A while later, I got a telephone call: “We found a dojo, but Julien didn’t like it, there wasn’t enough discipline.” Coming from my favourite troublemaker, the words made me smile but point to the fact that children express the need for landmarks.
Something parents often tell me is that after a few months of Aikido, school grades improve. It’s not surprising, because on the mat children build self confidence and most often failure at school is due to a lack of self confidence. They also learn to concentrate and develop their listening abilities and sense of observation, which are all very useful in class.
Let’s get back to classes adapted to the age of the children. Sometimes there aren’t enough children in a dojo to have classes with the same age groups. It’s a situation I had a few years ago in another dojo. There were children from 6 to 14. We took advantage of the disparity to teach them to behave and help each other as in a family, the older ones taking care of the younger. The idea appealed to them, even a little too much. It was touching to see some of the big kids spontaneously partner with the little ones and work with them for a whole hour, forgetting to train with partners of the same level. That kind of class remains more difficult to manage than classes with the same age groups.

Story of Chloe | 2010-02-06 05:31:08

The anecdote I’m about to recount took place in 1989. Chloe was a young girl of 12 who followed the children’s classes. She was a green belt, and her practise of Aikido was energetic, and that’s an understatement… She had a particular liking for randoris close to reality. One day, I see her coming to class and heading for me with a big smile.
- You seem to be in good spirits Chloe.
- Yes, Jean-Pierre, I was attacked just outside school.
- Oh? Seeing your smile I guess you did all right. How did he attack?
- It wasn’t “him” but “they”.
- You mean there were two of them? You did well, bravo!
- No they weren’t two.
- Three? Hey that’s great you were able to manage them.
- No, not three, more.
- At that moment, I start to wonder! How could she, at 12, rid herself of more than 3 opponents?
- Well then, how many were they?
- Seven and what’s more bigger than me!
- ……………!
- I’m dumbfounded. I try to imagine the scene, and can’t imagine what she was able to do against seven…
- Seven! But how did you manage Chloe?
- And she answers with an innocent voice, as if I had asked a stupid question:
- But exactly as you told us to do in class, Jean-Pierre!
- And what did I say? (I try to search my memory and remember what I may have said which might have helped her out!)
- So?
- Well, keeping my eyes level I went straight to the biggest and strongest-looking in the gang, and I gave him a big kick between the legs! He went down and all the others ran away, exactly as you said!
Knowing Chloe, I guess the guy must still have a sore crotch!
Maybe this adventure doesn’t reveal any great spirituality. But Aikido is also about adapting yourself to situations as they arise and finding the most appropriate answer, which was probably the case here…

Randori with several partners (2) | 2010-01-30 09:29:50

There’s a difference between randoris with two opponents and those with three or four opponents. More than four doesn’t really make much sense, other than flattering the tori’s ego. When there are too many assailants, they get in each other’s way and the randori is less interesting. In the street, if there are more than three assailants the best defence is to run, even if other strategies are possible (like the story of Chloe which I’ll tell you about next week).
When you have a certain experience of randori, you realize that a randori with three partners is easier than with two. The reason is the following: in a randori with two, once you’ve thrown a partner there’s only one left to face, which in fact is a handicap because you can’t choose, you have to do with that partner. A randori with two partners is thus a series of techniques or dodges which you alternatively use with each partner, without having a lot of opportunities. But as soon as you have more than two partners, once you’ve thrown one of them you still have several facing you. You thus have the choice of moving towards one of them. One could imagine that in a randori against three, the teacher might give you two partners with whom you relate well and a third who doesn’t inspire you. Well, if you manage your moves correctly, you can perform your whole randori without encountering the third.
The principles explained for the randori against one remain valid for the randori against several. In particular the dodges at the beginning. It’s more difficult to apply the first technique than in a randori against one, because you have to consider the position of the other assailants. A golden rule, after finishing a throw, is never to turn your back on the following attack. You must constantly be in a position to receive the attacks. So you try to apply a technique as soon as you can, which gives you time to throw the next uke while the first one is falling. That’s why, in a randori with two partners, it’s a shame to revert to dodging after having thrown the first partner. With more partners, you may at any time choose to dodge in order to select the next attack, as explained previously. A good way also to control the rhythm of the randori is to throw a partner so that he gets in the others’ way, or even use him to protect you, but all the while without breaking the rhythm.

Randori with several partners (1) | 2010-01-25 10:19:22

To explain randori with several partners (note the nuance: it’s a randori “with” and not “against”), Master Nocquet would often quote the following phrase:
“One is like a thousand, a thousand are like one.”
In a randori with several partners, you should perceive them as a single body, a single energy, and not concentrate your attention on only one of them but constantly relate to all of them, and in particular manage the position they keep between themselves. When you throw a partner, you must know exactly where the others are so as not to be surprised by the following attacks. Try in particular to have them all within eyesight. In the same way as a slaloming skier when he passes a gate already has his eye on the following gates, when you throw a partner you must already be ready for the next one. To focus on a single partner is a form of stagnation which will put you in danger. Perform your randori like the wind gathers leaves in autumn: it sweeps them all together. This doesn’t mean you necessarily have to throw your partners all together, but you have to control them together. The sentence quoted above can also be interpreted at an emotional level. To be faced with several opponents should not unsettle us. In the same way as giving a conference to a thousand people or speaking to a single person should not change our emotional level.
The Master also had an interesting comparison involving a bicycle wheel turning on its axis:
“In a randori with several partners, consider yourself as the hub of the wheel, and your opponents as the spokes. The wheel turns properly because the hub stays at the centre. Do not leave your centre to try and block one of the spokes turning, because then you’ll be immediately hit in succession by all the other spokes.”
A randori should thus be fluid, with no blocking. If you stop an attack, or if you remain too long with a partner, then you’re hit by the others. That’s how you should understand this explanation, and not of course that in a randori you should stay at the centre without moving.

Randori with a partner | 2010-01-16 09:15:08

The very first level of randori is dodging. You can practise it as soon as you begin Aikido. We’ll speak here of a slightly higher level of randori, where you try to apply techniques. And furthermore with a partner you don’t really know. The right attitude is to be attentive and benevolent towards the other person, which allows you to adapt yourself to his attack without being surprised. Not to have any preconception, or desire to perform a specific movement.
In the few moments of quiet before bowing, prepare yourself mentally, quiet your mind and be attentive to uke. At the beginning of the randori, don’t try to use a technique on the first attack. Dodge once or twice. First of all to feel and discover your partner’s rhythm. And also to tire him. The level of energy of your partner will evolve throughout the randori. At the beginning uke is full of energy, and tori empty, and at the end it’s the opposite. Tori, little by little, empties uke’s energy so that his attacks become less powerful and he ends up exhausted, flat on the mat, immobilized. So start with observing, like the bullfighter who only dodges at the beginning, then sticks a few banderillos before delivering the final deathblow. When you dodge these first times, you’re on the same rhythm as uke and you’ll be able to place your techniques more naturally. When you’ve thrown him, stay with him, don’t turn your back, keep the rhythm. In the same way, a randori should not end when the teacher claps his hands, but at the precise moment when you feel that the opportunity is there.
The first dodges allow you to feel your partner’s rhythm, to breath with him, vibrate with him, to enter his movement. Don’t stand still. Be one with uke. He’s dynamic, so be dynamic. If you’re static you’re already late, even before the attack is delivered. Wait for the opportunity to use your first technique. Avoid thinking. Put aside your intellect which says: “I really know this technique, I’d like to be able to use it… it’d be nice if my partner would attack yokomen…” This is the best way to achieve nothing, because uke never attacks as we would like him to. So his attack surprises us and we’re late in reacting. Empty your mind and try to become one with uke, so that your defence is simultaneous with his attack. Let the technique come without choosing it, let your body react, it’ll choose the appropriate movement. It doesn’t matter if it’s always the same movement. You’re not performing a demonstration but trying to save your life. When you immobilize your partner, try to immobilize him on his stomach. Your partner is much more helpless in this position than if he’s on his back, where it’s easier for him to use his arms and legs.

Reflections on randori | 2010-01-08 17:39:18

One should agree on the meaning of the word… In Master Nocquet’s view, randori was putting our knowledge into practise in a situation as close as possible to a street fight. With him I claim, high and loud, that Aikido is above all a state of mind, an art meant to develop and promote peace and love in the world. But I also concur with him that Aikido must not be cut off from reality. And reality is to be able to face real aggression. These two notions are not in the least contradictory, and I’d like to remind any hotheads that one can defend oneself with utmost efficiency while abiding the Aikido rules of non violence. And that is exactly the uniqueness and the charm of our discipline. An Aikidoist is not a warrior.
When I look at how people practise on the mat, there are two things I find difficult to understand.
The first is that very often randori is practised with a specified attack. And that’s also what’s required in ordinary exams: for instance, randori on a shomen attack. In the street, are you going to ask your assailant to attack in the manner of your preference? Imposing attacks is senseless and completely spoils the randori. It’s precisely what differentiates randori from the study of techniques. The objectives of technical study and randori are completely different. In a randori, you don’t know how uke is going to attack, and so you must overcome the element of surprise and improve your ability to adapt. Have you also noticed that there’s more stress in a randori than when studying techniques? Randori is also an exercise to control our mind and emotions. If you impose an attack, you reduce the randori to a technical exercise without flavour.
The second thing I find difficult to understand is that in certain dojos you only start to practise randori once you’re a black belt… In a word, God help a green belt who’s attacked in the street. Without mentioning the pleasure that kyus are denied by not allowing them to practise randori. The argument goes that beginners don’t have the necessary technical basics. This is true, but it’s also true that everyone must be given as quickly as possible the ability to defend himself efficiently. And there’s something very useful one can learn in five minutes, and that’s learning how to dodge. Simply not to remain in front of an attack: to side-step. That’s what I request from beginners in our dojo. I make a point to have all my students discover randori during their first class. I have them partner with a black belt who will adjust to their abilities and adapt his attacks. Move faster if tori is at ease, slower if he’s not. And it works fine. And it’s not rare to see them use a technique they’ll have seen during class. The only thing I don’t ask them is to immobilize their partner, because it’s obvious they don’t have the basics.
All classes given by Master Nocquet invariably ended with practising randori. The Master’s teaching was incredibly comprehensive. He covered Aikido globally, from the highest spiritual level, through the precision and fluidity of movements to the practical applications in situations close to reality. For the record, I’d like to remind you that in his time he taught classes in neutralizing knife attacks to the GIGN, an elite anti-terrorist unit.
To conclude, one might say that randori is the necessary complement to the study of techniques. It is to the latter what practise is to theory. Moreover, it gives access to aspects of Aikido that cannot be grasped through technical practise alone.

| 2009-12-19 08:42:40

No reflexion during the holidays of the end of the year. I wish you merry Christmas . I would like also to thank Peter Meredith, from Montigny’s club, who translate the thoughts and reflexions since 2 years (but not this 5 lines, as you can see…). Meet you here the 8th of January and de 23th of January in Hannover on the tatami for those of you who provided for going there.