Change Your Expression!

By Avery L. Jenkins, DC, DACBN, CCN (2nd Kyu - Litchfield Hills Aikikai, CT)

In his book, Mastery,George Leonard Sensei describes the process of learning Aikido as a series ofplateaus punctuated by sudden, rapid gains in expertise.

While this maynot be the only learning pattern experienced by aikidoka, it certainly hasseemed to be true in my case. For the most part, I have usually been content toride out the plateau, without great concern for when, or how, my ascent to thenext level of understanding would occur. It is an attitude that has not led toa very rapid advancement in rank, but it has allowed me a certain degree oflongevity in the study of an art which sports a phenomenally high dropout rate.

This time wasdifferent, however. During the winter of 2002, I began to experience anincreasing degree of frustration with my capabilities. I was concerned with twoissues that had plagued me since beginning my study of Aikido in 1990.

The first wasthe hardness of my style. From the day I set foot in my current dojo, I had areputation for harsh technique, to the extent that other students weresometimes reluctant to train with me, resulting, in at least one case, in aflat-out refusal to work with me on the mat.

The second was apersistent failure in my technique when uke attacked, I would tend to closeup my posture, rather than remaining open with a straight back, permitting meto execute the throw appropriately.

The source ofthese defects I understood. Not having been blessed with great size or speed,but instead with good strength and substantial endurance, my natural responseto an attack physical or otherwise has always been to protect the core, absorbthe blows where they will do the least damage, and wait my chance for a fiercecounterattack.

The approachembodied by Aikido, that of remaining open to the attack, responding to itfluidly with redirection, has always been counterintuitive to me, and perhapswhy I chose this martial art in the first place.

Over the courseof the past year, my sensei repeatedly admonished me to keep my posturestraight, keep my stance open, and to ease up. That would work for about threethrows, and then my bad habits would return.

I understoodwhat she meant. When she demonstrated, I could see what she meant. I justcouldn’t do it.

In the spring of2003, after a series of incidents both on and off the mat in which these flawswere highlighted for my perusal, I voiced my frustration to Sensei.

Let me take alook tonight, she said. Maybe we can figure out what’s wrong.

Sitting in seizathat evening, studying the portrait of O’Sensei at the kamiza before classbegan, I knew something was about to happen. It wasn’t that I hoped somethingwould change, or that I would try to make something change, I just simply knewsomething was about to change.

As classprogressed, I could tell Sensei was watching me a little more closely.

Open yourchest, she said. Keep your back straight, she reminded me.

It worked forthe usual three throws.

Then, as I wastaking a shomen-uchi attack, she looked at me.

Avery! Senseisaid. Change your expression!

I must havelooked at her like she had two heads. When you get attacked, your facetightens up, she explained. When you relax your face, it changes everything.Try it.

I tried it.

I met the attackupright. The throw was not soft, but not hard, not weak but not overbearing.Oh, I thought to myself, that’s what it’s supposed to feel like.

To me, thechange was instantaneous, profound, and dramatic. I could, for the first time,feel what I had seen demonstrated thousands of times before. It at last madesense, not just in my head, but in my body.

Since thatnight, I have worked on retaining this new capacity. It is not always there. Itcomes and goes. Sometimes uke still winces when he gets up. And it is stillfar too early to see if this understanding will extend outside of the dojo, andif so, how. I haven’t been challenged in that way yet. But perhaps the mostimportant part is that I can now recognize when that capability is absent.

And then I just change my expression.