July, 2002
And the winning newsletter banner is. . .
Previous Issues
Right up there at the top of the page—the
banner from April. May came in second. Thanks again to Christine Kennedy
for giving us this great new look.
The Opposite
of Relaxed
It’s nice to retell stories that make loved ones smile. But this
one has a different effect: It makes my wife’s eyes roll.
It was about 15 years ago, and Jeannine had just said yes to marrying me. Still, she thought it would be nice if we took her parents to dinner so I could ask them more traditionally for her hand in marriage. So we invited her mom and dad to a nice restaurant with us.
I really wasn’t worried they were going to resist the idea. Jeannine and I had been dating for a long time, and her parents seemed to like me. Still, I felt a little nervous. And as the evening approached, I felt the tension growing in me.
So I planned out the words that I’d say. Perhaps if I was prepared I wouldn’t feel as stressed. I ran through my little speech in my head. The trick was going to be finding the right time to say it.
We met Jeannine’s parents at the restaurant. We sat down, and began looking at our menus. It was quiet for a moment, but I didn’t want to jump right into my monologue. What if they didn’t like the idea? That would make for one uncomfortably long dinner. So I decided to wait.
After we ordered our food, various opportunities to speak came—and went. I didn’t say a word. As each opportunity passed, I could feel the tension building in my throat and in my stomach. I hadn’t said anything yet. Not a word. I was beginning to feel like if I did say something, my vocal chords would be so tight the sound would come out an octave higher than usual. I just couldn’t seem to relax.
It was up to Jeannine to hold down the conversation. I was completely incapable of speech. I knew it would be easier if I could just make a little small talk and gradually ease my way into the "I want to marry your daughter" thing. But I couldn’t even think of the most mundane topic to talk about. The tension in my muscles seemed to have put my brain in a stranglehold. I was unable to form a thought. If my mouth were to start talking, it would surely have blurted out total jibberish.
So we ate our food. Jeannine shot bewildered
glances at me. Would I go all the way through dinner without speaking?
Would the evening end with her parents driving off, wondering about the
strange young man waving mutely at them from the parking lot? I started
to think I’d have to save up another hundred bucks to try this whole
procedure again on another night. (Perhaps with my message pre-recorded
on tape?)
As we got toward the end of dinner, I summoned
up all my will power in an attempt to wrest my little speech from the
vice-like grip of my larynx . Finally, my first words of the entire night.
I said, "Uh, I’ve asked Jeannine if she’d like to marry
me." Her parents laughed and said, "Well, we thought there must
be some reason you invited us here!" Finally, the tension was relieved!
And it seemed like all the food I had swallowed in the last hour was finally
able to pass from my esophagus down into my stomach.
That’s the problem with relaxation.
It’s easy when you don’t need it. It’s incredibly hard
when you do. And I think there are some very good reasons it’s like
that.
The tension we feel is getting us ready
to run, or to fight. It’s a natural reflex. And that reflex has come
in handy in the history of humans, and really, of all animals. Stress,
up until fairly recently, almost always meant one thing: You had better
ready to do something fast, because you were about to get eaten.
Muscles tightening up in preparation for
running or fighting made perfect sense. But these days, when you’re
about to give a presentation, or ask that cute girl or guy out, or interview
for a job, or talk to a nationwide TV audience, your muscles are still
conditioned to get taut in the same way—preparing to help you spring
to safety, or to take on your aggressor. But it no longer makes sense.
Despite my nerves that night in the restaurant, and despite any concerns
Jeannine’s parents might have had, I was almost certain they weren’t
going to jump across the table and ingest me.
The process of being more relaxed really
comes in two parts. The first one is learning what relaxation feels like.
The second one is teaching ourselves that this state can be trusted.
It doesn’t take much time in the dojo
to catch a feeling of relaxation. You begin to trust it, too, as you see
how it works to make self-defense easier and more powerful. But would
you trust it with your life? Or would you still feel more comfortable
with those old friends, fight and flight?
Imagine yourself walking though the jungle.
You’ve gotten a little separated from your party, when you step into
something a little squishy. No problem—just pull your hiking boot
out of it. But it gets sucked down even further, and your other boot does,
too. In seconds, you’re in up to your knees. Then it hits you: You’re
in quicksand.
Fortunately, you’ve read exactly what
to do when you’re stuck in quicksand. Heck, every kid reads about
that by the time he’s about twelve. You don’t flail about. You
don’t fight it. You lay on your back, and relax.
You know that’s what you’re supposed
to do. But when you’re in the middle of that quicksand, it’s
hard to trust that knowledge. You’re body just wants to get you out
of there quick, and then you can contemplate the merits of relaxing when
you’re stuck in quicksand. From solid ground.
One of the great things about practicing
Aikido for a long time is it proves to us that relaxation works, that
it’s better than struggling and using muscle. Each time we try to
throw someone with muscle, we can feel ourselves getting sucked down into
a quagmire of self-defense helplessness, flailing about and sinking deeper
into the muck. But when we relax and move correctly we float right to
the top, throwing our opponents with ease, grace, and confidence. When
we put relaxation to the test, it works. And that teaches us to trust
it. Not just when we’re doing Aikido, but when we’re doing anything.
Gradually, relaxation becomes our new instinct. The smarter, classier, more highly evolved sibling of fight and flight. We learn that relaxation works beautifully, whatever the situation. When you’re making that big presentation. When you’re playing in the championship game. Even when you’re trying to tell your girlfriend’s parents you want to marry her. Although I’m really not sure about that one.
The greatest
relaxation exercise ever
It’s called Tekubi Furi Undo. But despite it’s complex name,
it’s actually one of our simplest ki exercises. And one of the best
methods of catching onto the feeling of relaxation. It works like this.
You stand in natural stance (feet side by side, about shoulder width apart).
Then you shake your hands rapidly, like they’re wet and you’re
trying to shake the water off. As you do this, you let your heels bounce
lightly up and down off the floor. Do this for fifteen seconds or so.
Then just stop, letting your arms dangle comfortably, but without flopping
down to your sides.
What is the feeling you get? Does your mind feel clear? Does your body feel good? Do your hands and fingers tingle a little? That is relaxation. Of course, the trick is applying that feeling when you have to do something more than just stand still in one place. But feeling it once is always the biggest and most important leap. Feel it once, and you know you can do it again.
Recent Testing
The following people recently tested and were promoted to their next rank.
For 6th kyu,
George Dahl and Ed Laird. For 5th kyu, Phil DeLaus, Tim Vann, and Chaz
Whitbourne. For 4th kyu, Jeff Hall, Steve Perino, Tim Quinlan, Tom Robinson,
and Bobby Stearns. And for 3rd kyu Ryan Liddell. Congratulations to all
on your fine progress.
New T-shirts
The new Rochester dojo t-shirts have arrived. Thank you to Brian LaChance
for the excellent design.
Upcoming Events
Fourth of July there are no classes.
Test Prep Classes (for Summer Camp testing) are July 11 and 18, from 8-9
PM.
Dojo Testing will be on July 17 and 18.
Summer Camp with Maruyama Sensei is July 25-28 at Villanova University.
Try not to miss the best Kokikai event of the year!
Abbreviated Schedule during Summer Camp: Thursday night, July 25, 5:45-6:45
(no classes 7-9). No class Friday morning, July 26. All classes will be
held Saturday morning.