Center for Aikido and Tang Soo Do Studies

Center for Aikido and

Tang Soo Do Studies

August 2004 Newsletter

“Moo Do Without Spirit is Nothing . . .”

____________________________

Dojo News

By David Margrave

Past issues of this newsletter are now available on our website at AikiTang.org. Thanks, Webmaster Goettsche, for the continued updates!

Please welcome Chad and Jason! Chad Summers is originally from Texas and has been in Colorado eight years. He practiced Kung Fu for a short time, and chose Aikido for its cooperative atmosphere. Jason Vulcan (cool name, huh?) is an Army engineer who started practicing Aikido in college in South Dakota in 1995. He joined us in March 2004. When asked, Jason stated that he would not object to having dancing girls in the dojo, but thinks they might tend to distract from the discipline of practice. (Just checking to see who is really reading this stuff!) Jason and Chad have both already demonstrated admirable commitment and make great additions to the dojo.

This month we also have a newcomer whom I happen to know well: my brother, Steve Margrave. (You can tell us apart easily: he’s the lady’s man, with all the genes for smarts and good looks. I deny that I’m jealous.) Steve is here on vacation from Omaha, and tempted to move to Colorado Springs for good. In one visit to the dojo, he acquired a serious addiction for Aikido. To date, he has expressed no opinion on the dancing girls issue.

August Aikido testing is upon us. Those with sufficient time in grade are encouraged to demonstrate their skills. Please remember to be present, rested, and supportive of all who choose to test.

The Saga of the Tang Hand

By Vernon Medeiros

The season of the year was springtime. The place was a mid-sized town located at a point near the center of the state, where the plains of Colorado meet the magnificent Rocky Mountains. The knowledge was acquired in a distant place -- a place which upon reflection seemed to exist in the future. This place of the future where the land kisses the sea was teeming with diversity, a diversity that stimulated the senses. Anything and everything could be found there. Martial art training halls were abundant. This abundance by its very nature created a maze of wrong turns and dead ends making it difficult for any student to find a reputable Instructor, assuming for a moment that novices can make an informed decision about a person and a subject they know nothing about.

I, being a novice seeker of knowledge about a subject I knew very little about, struggled with the physical expectations set by the Instructor. The strenuous workouts, promotion tests, and lending support to senior students who were sent out on assignment to teach at the other clubs. The intellectual expectations with term paper assignments. The custodial expectations -- no one who trained was above these duties. The financial expectations, a responsibility felt by all, because our school and Instructor were worth it.

If I the seeker had searched long and hard I may have found such a place to train eventually. Maybe I would have been able to discard my bad habits, maybe not. To stumble upon an Instructor of extraordinary qualities on my first step out. Well, was it coincidence? Was it chance? Or was it my destiny? I had exposure to other arts before, during and after this chance meeting but something, or more accurately someone kept me on this path.

Now I am the person who struggles to keep myself on this path. To a third party observer I hold a prestigious position. From my vantage point I see responsibilities and duties which overwhelm me more times than I care to count. Students’ lack of loyalty and commitment to their school, fellow students or own personal growth discourages me. Master Lee told me, "One day Vernon, you will have to give back to the Art." I thought I already had given back to the “Art” many times, but learned that as in life, giving to the Art is a lifelong task. I must carry out my duties to continue to train myself and accept the responsibility to pass my knowledge on to those who are willing to endure the tough workouts, to do the assignments I give to them and to do what is asked without argument.

The future, the present, and the past are all connected. To discard all one knows out of laziness is a waste. You may laugh, but all of us do these things. Perseverance and dedication are difficult tenets to live by, so many want to follow the path, but so few try. I'm speaking of knowledge, knowledge that cannot be acquired with money. Only with time and effort put forth can one enhance one’s being. There are no monetary rewards when you train in the arts, only spiritual ones. Herein may be the reason so few truly train in the arts throughout their lifetimes.

Remember you only have one lifetime. The hours, the days, the weeks, the months, the years, and the decades are not separate events. You don't "shut-down" and "start-up." Your life is one continuous line from birth to death. The calendar is a useful device. It helps us to gauge our progress. It is also a hindrance: we always feel we will do "it" tomorrow, next week, next month or next year or five years from now. The future is your goals, aspirations and dreams. The past is your accomplishments, your successes, your failures, your losses. The present is "all" you have. You are connected to all which you want and to all you have had.

TO BE CONTINUED . . .

The Hakama

By Ryan Goettsche

Everything we do in Aikido has meaning. The way we enter the dojo, remove our shoes, bow, put on our uniforms, line up, train, fold our hakamas, etc. Everything has purpose. The incense, how the mats are positioned, which wall the shomen resides, etc. Our school allows a student to wear a hakama at the rank of third kyu. There is reason behind that as well. There is reason behind the seven pleats of the hakama, which most people do not know about or think to question.

The pleats represent the seven virtues of budo: Benevolence, honor, etiquette, wisdom, sincerity, loyalty, and piety. These seven virtues are placed into the hakama so that every time it is donned, one is reminded of these virtues. The virtues date back to the samurai and the values by which they lived their lives. We are not of that era, but that doesn’t mean that the values don’t hold up in today’s society. That is the power of their meaning; they are timeless and will never die. It is easy to fall into the realm of thinking that when you are allowed to wear the hakama that you have achieved something over other people and that it is a symbol of “arriving.” Nothing could be further from the truth. That is the time to start honoring those virtues. The hakama should always be worn with those seven virtues in mind because then you will train with them in mind and when you train with them in mind, you will live your life with them in mind. The small act of wearing the hakama will have significant effects on the way you live your life. Throw the pebble into a calm pond and the waves will go on for a great distance.

The hakama must also be worn with the respect deserving to it. You are a representation of the school and the art of O’Sensei. If you wear your hakama without paying attention to keeping the pleats crisp, clean, and sharp and if you don’t fold your hakama to keep the pleats crisp, clean, and sharp, then you dishonor everything it represents. To wear a wrinkled hakama with nine or ten pleats because time was never taken to make sure the original pleats didn’t drift and careless folding created new ones is an insult. I’ve been to schools where a student will just take his hakama off after class, roll it up into a ball, and put it in a duffle bag until the next class. Everything has meaning, substance and purpose in budo training. That is the tradition, and there are so many lessons to be learned by paying attention to every little action and setting each one in motion. We may not see the value right away, but with time and open eyes the meanings of every action will come clear and enrich our lives. After all, that is the real reason for training; to become better persons than we were the day before.

Strangers on a Train ^{^[1]}

Submitted by Hal Render

[Note from Hal San: I just recently found a book entitled Remembering O-Sensei, edited by Susan Perry. It is a collection of stories and reminiscences about O-Sensei by his students and other people who knew him. The stories are organized by major theme, e.g. first meetings, training, daily living, etc. I think this is a great book, and I find it very inspiring. For me it communicates something about what O-Sensei was like. To give an example, I thought I would share a couple of stories from it.]

Tired from traveling and looking forward to more difficult work ahead, the young man looked for a seat on the crowded train. Settling next to a stocky old man, he sat back against the swaying side of the car. “Don’t I know you?” asked the old man next to him. Sighing, the young man looked over into the wrinkling face beside him. “I don’t think so.” “Yes, I’m sure I know you,” said the old man. “What is your name?” The young man sat up and faced his new companion more directly. Looking fiercely at the old man, he announced proudly, “I am Kenshiro Abbe, Judo champion of all Japan.” The old man smiled, “Ah, yes, I knew I had seen you before.” “Please, could you be quiet now,” asked Abbe, settling back in his seat. “I have a competition I am going to and I need to get some rest.” “Of course,” said the old man. As the train ground along the winding track, however, the old man didn’t stop talking. He continued to drone on incessantly, till finally Abbe sat up and again faced him. “Be quiet, old man,” he said, “I need to sleep.” “If I am just an old man and you are such a great Judo champion, then perhaps you can break my finger. I will be quiet if you can break my finger,” said the old man. Thinking that he many finally be rid of the old man, the young man scrutinized the single digit that was held out to him. Tired and a little angry, he grabbed the finger and twisted it to break it. What followed, however, wasn’t the dry snapping sound he expected. Instead he was airborne, slammed down onto the floor of the train, with all of the air escaped from his lungs. Worse still, he was immobilized. After a moment, the old man let him up. “Who are you?” Abbe asked in wonderment. “I am Morihei Ueshiba, founder of Aikido,” said the old man. Abbe, still on the floor of the car, bowed to the old man and asked if he could come to his dojo to train. He was accepted as a student and would stay with Ueshiba for ten years.

KENSHIRO ABBE

I was traveling back to Tokyo from Iwama with O-Sensei. Upon boarding the train, O-Sensei sat down next to a little old lady and said, “I’m Ueshiba of Aikido.” She replied, “That’s nice. What’s Aikido?” And he says, “Well, it is a budo and ¼.” “What’s a budo?” she asks. It was clear that her world had nothing to do with budo, or Aikido, or anything like that. So O-Sensei said, “The is my deshi, Bob; he is from Harvard.” And O-Sensei started talking about me much to my embarrassment. Listening from the seat nearby, I was thrown that a great man like O-Sensei would be talking about me to anyone.

As O-Sensei continued to talk to the little old lady, I realized that O-Sensei really wanted to entertain this woman on the train and that in order to do that, he needed to talk about something that she would recognize. In those years, everybody knew about Harvard, because John F. Kennedy had been from Harvard, and O-Sensei knew this. O-Sensei was entertaining her by talking about his student, because if he talked about himself, the conversation wouldn’t take off. He was willing to talk about his student, which is so extraordinary; he was just as extraordinary off the mat as he was on the mat. I mean, he was just amazing.

ROBERT FRAGER

A Moment in Time

By Sam George

I train because the only thing to work on is myself. To work on my own aggression and competitiveness is all there is to do. What angers me in other people is a good mirror of what angers me about myself.

Fundamentals

By Mark Crary

Basics, basics, basics. We hear it over and over. We practice basics for what seems like an eternity some times. Seiza, shikko, tenkan, tenkai, front rolls, back rolls, relax, extend ki, weight underside, one point, kokyu, and the list goes on and on and on.

I believe I owe everyone in the dojo an apology, particularly the beginners and Senseis Medeiros and Goettsche. It has been made clear to me that I forgot one of the most basic of basics: the joy of discovering Aikido at your own pace. I suppose that I learned that myself so long ago that I forgot it. This is most definitely not an excuse but more a reason that I would use to rationalize my mistake. As I think about what has passed over the years, I know that list of mistakes is very long, but what I want to focus upon now is what has been brought to my attention most recently.

There is a big difference between knowing and understanding, between the mechanics and the feel of a technique. In my years of study I have listened and intellectualized many things I have learned on the mat and thought I understood, only to realize months or more later that I had only scratched the surface. It occurs to me that my pushing the beginners to work on their technique is not so much helping their understanding, only their mechanical knowledge, hopefully. I seem to have forgotten that Aikido is so much more than a bunch of techniques. While it is true that our path to understanding Aikido is through the techniques, I need to remember that Aikido is more spiritual, and that perfecting technique is merely scratching the surface. It is not the goal that is important; it is the path we are following. If we focus too much on the goal (good technique) we miss some of the things that lie along the path (true understanding).

In my zeal to see people learn, I sometimes took away the chance for everyone to learn at their own pace. I tried to help with the mechanics but forgot that understanding happens only when it is time. I was allowed to progress on my own partly because there was not a large group of sempai to teach me, but mostly because I was allowed to grow at what was my own natural pace. If there was something I did not understand and could not get it on my own, I went to sempai and asked for help. I apologize to everyone for not allowing that to happen for each of you.

It is possible that I might need the help of sempai and kohai alike to help me change my ways. Please, if anyone sees me reverting to my old ways, tell me to reel it in. I want all of us to be able to understand, not just know. Thanks!

Peace

By Jack Hoyt

Many people dream of world peace. They hold hope that someday the entire world will be at peace.

I think that we are as far from achieving Peace in the world as we ever have been. Peace is described as a state of calm or quiet, or a period without conflict.

With the level of hate and evil in the world, Peace is out of reach for this world. Peace, without conflict, can come through submission. Submission can give calm but takes away freedom. Peace without freedom is only a partial Peace.

I think the best way toward world Peace starts within. If you are at peace with yourself, you may overflow to those around you.

Do good to yourself and those around you and who knows what might happen.

“I Like to Watch”

By David Margrave

As most of you know, I have been wearing a sling on my left arm for the last six weeks, for reasons unrelated to events in the dojo. Since none of you seem to believe any of the half-dozen stories I told about the cause of my shoulder surgery, I suspect that it would be futile to explain it yet again. (For those of you who do care: I am sticking with the story about the alien tractor beam and the twisted medical experiments they performed on me and my friend Pooka. Since the brain operations, my strange cravings for dog food continue, and Pooka has been talking -- remarkably well -- but tells really bad jokes.) What little sympathy I elicited seems to have worn off entirely. So you will be relieved to know that, (albeit reluctantly) I have given up wearing the sling. I still claim disability status, and have not yet been called to account on this.

I do in fact have an Aikido-related topic: the benefits of watching. Although the sling seems to have done me little good, I discovered that watching class from the sidelines does me a great deal of good. It can be fascinating.

You may remember the Peter Sellers movie, Being There. Sellers played the role of a demented man who took high society by storm. He had a vacuous mind, and an obsession with watching -- TV, people, or whatever came his way. His often-repeated motto was, “I like to watch.” Fascinated with the opinions of others, and totally lacking in any of his own, he proved to be the perfect Presidential candidate. No doubt, some of you will overlook the timeliness of this poignant story, and suggest that I have more in common with Sellers’ character than the mere fact that I like to watch. Let’s not even go there! Comparisons with Bush and Kerrey are screaming out for your attention.

Back to the point. Sitting it out during practice, I get the chance to observe amazing things: the things beginners do that I used to do; the things they do that I still do; the things that sempai do which inspire me; that funny thing that Lady Bug does with her pony tail; differences in the way people bow, Ryan San’s perfect posture, and the amazing degree to which our body language telegraphs what we are thinking and feeling. It is worthwhile, and instructive, merely to watch. And I believe that, like the Olympic athlete who meditates upon and visualizes his feats away from the arena, I can improve upon my budo by visualizing myself moving like Sempai.

Watching is an experience not to be missed. When you are not in condition to train, come to class just as often as you do when you are. (Do as I say, not as I do!) And watch! Anybody want to borrow a perfectly good sling? I can supply you with several perfectly plausible stories. ;-)

Attitude

Submitted by Joy Real (Reprinted)

[The following excerpt is a story by Jae Chul Shin, World Tang Soo Do Association.]

A student was overjoyed that he had the opportunity to visit and perhaps become the pupil of a famous instructor. He entered the room to meet with the Master, and was seated on the floor across from the old man. Only a table with two cups of tea separated them. From the onset of the meeting he told the Master of his own great accomplishments in the martial arts, and his visions for himself in the future. The old man listens intently.

Suddenly the Master picked up a kettle and started to pour water into the student's cup, even though it was already full. The Master continued pouring, as the cup overflowed. The young ambitious visitor sat in shock, as the old man stood and walked out of the room saying only, "Attitude . . . Attitude," as he departed. With great disappointment the young man returned home, faced with the great task of interpreting the Master's behavior and his words.

After many months, the student finally understood the Master's message, which was that he was already so filled up with himself, that there was no room for what the Master had to give. Any attempts by the Master to add knowledge to the student would have been a waste, similar to the water that overflowed from the full cup! The young man returned to the old Master with a new attitude, and became a faithful pupil.

The lesson is to be humble and "empty minded". It is in this state that you can readily accept new knowledge and prepare for greater challenges. Bring an empty cup to your instructor and you will find your cup will be filled.

More on Attitude

By Joy Real (Reprinted)

The school has experienced a decline in membership in both clubs. Everyone discontinues for his or her own reasons. Those who have had to move out of town or who find martial arts just isn't their cup of tea have the Instructor's and student's understanding and blessing (not that they need that from us) when they leave. Those who quit because they don't like working with junior students or they aren't learning anything new, or they perceive the Instructor talks too much and we continually work on the same things over and over again, possibly, have problems with their own attitude interfering with their training. The student may be experiencing personal problems with other students and the Instructor. We should look at ourselves, not others. Working with junior students and doing repetitious training is our opportunity to share what we have learned and to recognize where we need to improve. Aren't we all beginners to one extent or another?

The Instructor has had many years of training and teaching and has the ability to know when a student is ready to take on new material. Should a student be shown the next level of training when they haven't made the necessary improvements with what they have already been shown is foolhardiness? Not everything required for self-improvement in true Martial Arts can be shown. The Instructor has to relay to the students in words those ideas that are above simple demonstration, and aren't these ideas just as important as the techniques?

The art of self-defense and self-improvement require repetition in order for these abilities and refinements to become second nature. Does one obtain perfection or even come close to perfection by doing something a few times and then moving on to something else? Training in the martial arts is an avenue towards overcoming ego, pettiness, and bigoted attitudes. Wouldn't one be better able to cope with personal problems outside or inside the dojo/dojang as they continued to train towards harmony with themselves and others?

The list goes on and on. Don't let your attitude become the stumbling block in your training. As mentioned in a previous article, “Bring an empty cup" don't come to train with expectations. See and do everything with a new mind and leave your problems outside the door, you can pick them up when you leave if you so desire.

A Life of Aikido

By Nicole Crary

I’ve been around Aikido since I was about 8 months old. My whole family has trained at one time or another. When I was 4 or 5 I remember how my brother would bring me on the mat after class sometimes and teach me how to roll. I thought he was the best big brother in the world. (Boy, was I wrong! Just kidding!)

I used to think that it was amazing that my 10-year old big brother could throw grown-ups down. When I finally got to start training I was psyched.

It’s been a great experience so far, and I hope to be training for a while longer!

“This Is Your Brain on Ki,” Part 2

By Allen Coons

It seems to me that a person who is in tune with his Ki, not only will perform our art better, but also in becoming better will fine-tune his ability to tap into his Ki and apply this to his life outside our dojo.

In Aikido, we learn circular movements. Circularity is also a consistent feature of living. We move in circles not only in Aikido, but also in our daily travels and travails. Our actions rebound to us in a circular fashion. Some call this the law of karma; others call it the law of amra. Others simply say, "What goes around, comes around."

Whatever label one chooses, the principle is evident to us all. If you give good, good will return to you many fold. If you give that which is not good, evil or whatever you wish to call it, it also returns to you multiplied.

In the last edition of the Newsletter, I wrote about scientific research showing that a specific area of the brain has been associated with the development of ki. Learn to use that piece of your brain. Develop it, tune into it. It seems to me that nothing can come of it but good.

When was the last time you heard someone complain because something fortunate happened to them?!? Right. "What the hell am I going to do with all this money I just won?" Just add this to the list of questions you will never hear from someone. Someone with any sense that is; or someone in tune with KI.

Peace my friends.

Where is All Your Stuff?

By Mark Soppe

Where’s your stuff?

While I was training in Tang Soo Do one night a woman stopped by the club and asked, “Where’s all your stuff?”

“All our stuff?” Sa Bom replied.

“Yes,” she said. “All the sticks, swords, bags, and pads. Shouldn’t you be kicking bags and pads, taking away sticks from each other, and have all sorts of things hanging on the walls? Also, why is everyone still wearing white?”

“Oh . . . ” said Sa Bom.

She had trained previously in an environment with bags, pads, and other implements. So, she expected to see the same from our school.

When a school has a place of its own, over time it shows the beliefs and personality of that school.

Our school is clean, uncluttered and open.

Rhetorical Questions of the Month

By Allen Coons and Dave Margrave

1. Is a person who hates bigots a bigot himself?

2. If con is the opposite of pro, is Congress the opposite of Progress?

3. If flying is so safe, why do they call the place we (hope to) land a “terminal”?

4. Why do we drive on our parkways and park in our driveways?

5. If all is not lost, where is it?

6. Why don't you ever see the headline, "Psychic Wins Lottery"?

7. Why is the time of day with the slowest traffic called “rush hour”?

8. When will lawyers and doctors get down to work and stop "practicing"?

9. Why is lemon juice made with artificial flavor and dishwashing liquid made with real lemons?

10. You know that indestructible black box they use on airplanes? Why don't they make the whole plane out of that stuff?

11. In England, why is the “Speaker of the House” never allowed to speak?

12. If you try to fail and succeed, then which have you done?

13. Which would be better: to have a bottle in front of me, or a frontal lobotomy?

14. When will all the rhetorical questions end?

This Newsletter was produced by:

The Center for Aikido and

Tang Soo Do Studies

5668 N. Union Blvd

Colorado Springs, CO 80918

(719) 477-1244

http://www.aikitang.org

You may email submissions for the next issue of the newsletter or request digital copies of past issues by writing to Dmargrave@CS.com

If you are interested in Tang Soo Do or Aikido, please contact us.

For information on Aikido, contact:

Ryan Goettsche (719) 243-4588,

Hal Render (719) 448-9293, or

Sam George (719) 471-1588.

For information on Tang Soo Do, contact:

Jude Miller (719) 635-2874, or

Tim Speaks (719) 559-2983, or:

The Center for Tang Soo Do Studies in Longmont:

Mike Parenteau

Info@www.CTSDS.org

Please come by and watch a class!

Photos of the Month:

This month we have several photos from the Aikido class. Next month we hope to showcase the Tang class doing their stuff. Anyone want to volunteer to take the Tang photos? Peace. DJM.