Kotsu Kotsu

Often when beginning students practice an aikido technique they are frustrated at their inability to do the techniques correctly. (Actually, although they may be working on a different level of refinement, advanced students often feel the same way!) I have had students ask me whether we couldn't just focus on a few techniques until they get them "right," and then progress on to the next set, etc. I have never taught that way, mostly because my instructor doesn't teach that way, and Sensei doesn't teach that way. After a number of years, I realized that I did have a grasp of a great number of techniques, although I never remember devoting particular attention to any one. It was my piano teacher, David Leonhardt , who articulated why this worked in a lesson this morning. I asked, "Are you sure I should be moving on to the next exercise? I'm still pretty sloppy on this one in a lot of ways." He said, "Your goal in playing music isn't t...

Some Kokikai dojo display photos of previous Kokikai Winter and Summer Camps . Each shows 200 or so people lined up in some configuration around Sensei . When we see them, each of us does the same thing: "Here's me!" Those 30 or 40 pixels that form the shape of my head are so important to me! Meanwhile, Sensei's focus is on arranging all those forms to make a beautiful image: straight lines, clean edges, hands folded. Sometimes, to put my ego in the back seat for a while, I imagine myself as a blotch of paint in Sensei's pointillist canvas. Then Gil Fronsdal says "Each of you has within you a tremendous beauty. and if you only knew how beautiful you are, you would fall on your knees and bow to yourself." Am I important? Or are I insignificant? Am I one pixel on the great canvas? Or am I worthy of worship? I puzzle on this as I drive to work. Then I see a heron winging across the highway, its wings flapping in lazy beats, and I am transport...

Last weekend the radio show  This American Life  issued a retraction of a program they broadcast in January. "Mr. Daisy and the Apple Factory"  was an excerpt of a one-man show. Mike Daisy, a self-described "worshipper in the cult of Mac" went to find out first-hand about the working conditions of Chinese factory workers. I was not the only one who found the story powerful. Daisy is a great storyteller. The show was the most downloaded in This American Life's history. Then it was discovered that many of the elements of Mike Daisy's story are "a mix of things that he just heard about or researched." As in: they didn't happen to him. As in: saying that they did is not the truth. In his interview with This American Life host, Ira Glass, Daisy defends his work, although he admits it's inappropriate for a journalistic radio program: "I stand by it as a theatrical work. I stand by how it makes people see and care about the situation...

Banks of forsythia along the highway Yellow and bright they bloom, Beyond each bridge and curve, Unfurling and unfolding, arising and passing. Isn't life like this?

At a recent panel discussion between artists and scientists at Lafayette College, a 25-year old artist asked this question: "I'm just finding my voice as an artist and I'm having trouble identifying what is my true voice." Answer from a computer scientist on the panel: "The older I get, the less sure I am what my 'true voice' is, but the more comfortable I become with the uncertainty."

Speakers Corner, London               Photo: M'bert "The world is my world, and everything in the world is about me." It's easy to be annoyed by someone who's totally self-centered (drivers, people in the grocery store, people at parties), but in reality all of us are like this. Joko Beck  talked about our typical state as being at the center of our own drama. "The world is a stage and I am the main actor." You go out to dinner with someone and all they do is talk about themselves. And why are you upset? Because you didn't get to talk about yourself ! Imagine a world in which everyone is on stage, disclaiming about themselves, and nobody's in the audience. Now imagine a world in which everyone is listening to each other, and there's no stage at all. Which world would you rather live in? So how can we create that world? Obviously, we can most effectively start with ourselves. What might be the rewards? The goal of creating a bette...

I just returned from a week's vacation in England and Wales. Vacationing, seeing new things, visiting the homes of family, these things can bring up strong feelings of desire. I want that painting, that rug, that embroidered jacket that someone wore on the train. I want to look out at that view every morning. I want to live in a converted malt house on a canal overlooking Bath Cathedral. Or in a bungalow on the Thames, full of Asian and African art. Or in London's Chelsea, walking distance from central London. If I'm not careful, these thoughts can make a vacation distressing, rather than relaxing. Over time I've learned to recognize these thoughts before they hijack my mood. When I can identify "I want that," I try to substitute it with "Isn't that beautiful! I am enjoying it right now." It helps a lot.