Woking Aikido

So with the exodus of many of the old members of Gen Sen Jyuku towards the South-East of England, including one Thomas Tam, the question occurred as to what should be done about there being such a high-density of GSJ in one area yet still too far from Ei Mei Kan.

I'd like to point out now that my telling of this first part of the story is entirely conjecture on my part. I was not involved in the birth of this story which I will tell below but have happily become involved in it.

With so many children of GSJ so close together it was deemed madness that they should not conspire to meet and train together. Of course this trend of GSJ students towards the South-East is not news and has been an occurrence for at least as long as I have been at GSJ.
What was different as of last year was that Tom Tam was moving to the South-East too. This was news.

And so at the Ei Mei Kan Christmas seminar 2013 I was invited to join the other ex-members of GSJ in some aikido training in the town where Tom lived. At this stage there were no details set in stone. Only the knowledge that at some point we would converge on the town of Woking and train.

A few weeks later I received a text message asking which of two possible dates I was free and to have a think about any techniques I would like to see at training.

And so it was that on the 25th February 2014 I attended the first ever home-counties aikido seminar. Joined by a humble student base of just 2 others (Christopher Ng and Adrian Harasemiuc) and under the tutelage of the very capable Tom Tam.

What I learnt at some point between my invite and the event itself was that Tom and Szevone had in fact converted their garage into a dojo. Just 6 mats long and 2.5 mats wide (mats not sqaures), this is without a doubt the smallest dojo I have ever seen, you couldn't possibly fit any more than 4 students and a teacher in the space.
Yet it is also a truely wonderful dojo. The care that Tom and Szevone have put into converting a garage into a space to practise aikido is inspiring.

Of course with such a small number of students the seminar was naturally quite intense. There was of course only one person taking tori at any one time which meant that you were under constant scrutiny. But along with this scrutiny comes a lot of personal tuition and the teacher being able to bend the session to the individual needs of the students.

The day was fantastic. I am humbled by the work that has gone into the creation of the dojo and honoured to have been invited at all to train with the home counties aikidoka as well as partake in the very seminar of  the Woking dojo.

(Should it be called Woking Mei Kan?)

Summer School 2013 - Ukemi for Horii Sensei

Horii Sensei is a 7th dan Shihan from Honbu dojo and led the 2013 Summer school.
He is the most senior teaching I have ever taken Ukemi for.

In Summer School the teachers will in general, mostly use hakamas to demonstrate to the class. The previous I had entered with entirely the wrong mind-set and had been more focused on locating senior teachers than actually paying attention to the demonstration, which as I have mentioned was a big mistake.  So this year I was quite keen to get as close to the demonstrations as possible so that I could absorb as much knowledge as possible. I think as a result, for the first day or two, I was sitting noticeably nearer the demonstrations than the other juniors who seemed to move in closer as the week went on.
Now I did not want to take Ukemi for Horii sensei in front of the whole summer school because I knew I would somehow bugger it up. But the more you sit in the front row of students the more your chance of getting picked for Ukemi increases. And I think I may have come across in the first two days as being a keen bean who was determined to be used for Ukemi. Nothing could have been further from the truth. But of course it happened.

You know how every teacher has their own way of signalling to a person to come up for Ukemi, or to sit down again, or that they want to perform the technique from a different angle so that the class can see some subtle thing. It can be a bit confusing at first when a teacher makes these signals in a way you are not used to.

So when Horii sensei signalled to me for Ukemi I was up in an instant, presenting the image of a calm student who was ready for this. I was of course absolutely terrified.
I took Ukemi acceptably well twice. But I was trying so hard to spot any kind of subtle signal, so as to be perfectly on the ball, that I completely imagined a signal for me to sit down.

A signal so subtle that only I saw it, and Horii Sensei didn't even make it.

I knelt down and bowed to Horii Sensei who just stood there and looked at me confused. I then took Ukemi twice more, feeling like a prat. To be honest it wasn't that bad, I had taken Ukemi acceptably well which was the main thing. But damn it I was so close.

You know the feeling, when your training and you get so close to getting it right. So close to doing some vaguely impressive. And then you mess it up at the last hurdle.

Well anyway I'm very honoured to say he then used me for Ukemi a second time that day. I think by this stage I was the only none hakama that he had used for Ukemi and he used me twice! I felt like bloody royalty. But with that came a scarier thought. What if seniors who didn't know me had noted this occurrence? What if they thought I was good at aikido? This was not going to work in my favour.

Luckily this didn't seem to happen. However the juniors did seem to have noted this and were far more insistent to be the first to take ukemi first when training with me. They eventually realised that they were wrong to think I had any level of skill but it was amusing that there was a noticeable change in the way the juniors treated me for a while.


Nearing the end of the week there was a lesson in which Horii Sensei was taking a lesson just for the juniors. By this point most of the juniors had taken Ukemi for Horii Sensei at least once. But what was special now was that we were doing Nikkyo.

And we all know how I feel about Nikkyo.

Every demonstration I sat as near as I could, mentally screaming at him to take me for Ukemi. I had to be Nikkyo'd by Horii Sensei. If I missed this chance I wouldn't be able to live with myself. I think my attempts at looking fired up actually worked.

He took me for Ukemi and Nikkyo'd me. Oh sweet bliss and glory. My wrists had been touched by a God. I wanted the Nikkyo's to go on forever. But alas, like all good things, that too did eventually have to come to an end.

Summer School 2013 - washing Gi's

So, my first full summer school. Although I'm yet to know for sure I imagine every summer school is quite an experience regardless of how many times you go.

Having learnt my lesson from my mini summer school adventure the year before I entered into this one with much more restraint.
I recommend summer school to everyone, it's brilliant, but it is damn hard. It is both physically and mentally challenging and I noticed this year that even the senior students approach it with care because it is just as challenging for them.

Generally members of EMK all stay in the same flat and a chore rota is put together. Everyone should in theory have one job to do each day, such as cooking dinner or preparing lunch. And generally people do different tasks each day. I signed myself up to wash and dry the all the Gi's. Everyday. Woops.
Despite Tom and Tim asking me if I wanted to reconsider, genuinely giving me a way out because I wasn't to know, I decided that since I had signed myself up for it I would therefore do it. Woops.
We were doing the washing for two shihans and several shidoin and their Gi's needed to be cleaned and returned to them bone-dry every day.
When you have to get up every morning for either Zazen or Batto-Ho, you don't want to be up until 1 am waiting for the Gi's to finish their third cycle through the tumble dryers.

You see there are lots of other things to do in the evening as well so sometimes you may not get to start washing the Gi's until way after classes have finished.

If it wasn't for Tim having the foresight to bring a very interesting piece of kit that I believe is called the "Dry Buddi" then some nights I wouldn't have even been in bed by one.

To be honest most of EMK stayed up until the Gi's were dry anyway. Each night Sensei's Gi had to be checked by Tom Tam. There was something rather enjoyable about presenting Sensei's Gi to Tom and watching as he performed the official Tom Tam bone-dry test (patented of course) and waiting to receive his stamp of approval. I also finally learnt how to fold a Gi properly, that's right, there's a proper way.

Not much more to say on this. I hope you enjoyed reading.

This one time in Batto-Ho

So at one of the many intensive seminars at EMK we were doing some Iai Batto Ho.

This must have been a mid-winter seminar as we had just finished zazen and we kept the lights dimmed and it was quite dark.

In fact before I really get into this I would like to quickly refer back to something Tim Sullivan once said to me in passing. This isn't a word for word quote but I'll put quotation marks around it anyway, "It is strange to think that the blade of an Iaito is attached to the hilt by nothing more than a small peg." This was said as he pocketed some chop-sticks in case of the scenario in which the blade of his own Iaito detached from the hilt so that he could quickly fashion a temporary replacement peg.

So we're doing some Batto Ho and we've been split into two separate groups. Basically seniors with Iaito in one group and juniors with bokken in the other. Sensei notices that we juniors are not really getting the point of drawing a sword. The basic idea is that you should be able to defeat an opponent in the act of drawing your sword. Real life duals should start and end with the drawing of the Iaito, by which point the dual should be over, with one of the opponents dead. It should be as quick as a single cut, not the sort of stuff you see in martial arts films.

So when you practice Iai Batto Ho, you should extend and you should imagine your opponent who you should be trying to cut. And as I said, Sensei had noticed that most of we juniors were not doing this.

So he demonstrated. With his sword. On me.

I stood there while he demonstrated to the juniors about cutting your opponent, he didn't hold back. If he had misjudged the distance to my face then I would have ended up in hospital with half my face missing. I don't think it would have killed me, but that isn't that much consolation when you have someone swinging a sword passed your face repeatedly. It was dark enough that I couldn't really see the sword as it passed no more than 2 inches from my face, which made me think that he couldn't really see it that well either. But I could hear it. Again this didn't comfort me one little bit. 

And all the while Tim's words about the blade being held in by nothing more than a peg were ringing in my ears.

Thanks for reading!

Winter wonderland

You may have heard of this. It is a badge of honour that I wear proudly. To have taken part in and survived a seminar so horrifying that even Tom Tam himself recalls it as a terrible experience, is something that I will never forget.

That fateful weekend, that shall ever be remembered in the annals of aikidoka legend as winter wonderland. It was here that I became known as the lone 5th kyu. A name that has since been lost to history.

Also Sensei tried to steal my wooly hat.

Now obviously most of these stories that I write about were not nearly as cool at the time as I make them out to be. They're just really cool in my head and then I exaggerate slightly further as to make for enjoyable reading.

But back to over-exaggeration.

It was a weekend seminar, prior to the christmas seminar. For those training for 5th Kyu and above. And the heating was broken.

Let me say that again. THE HEATING WAS BROKEN. You know how cold the dojo is, and that's when the heating is working. Oh and this was the coldest weekend of the year. It snowed!

You weren't there. You don't understand what it was like. I can categorically say that it was the coldest I have ever been in my life. It was so cold that we all slept in the lobby area. We stuffed about 15 bodies onto the floor of the lobby area while we slept because it was too cold to be spread out in the main dojo. I was fully clothed, in my sleeping back, surrounded by other people and their body warmth, and I was still shivering because I was so cold. I was so cold that I couldn't sleep. I think every one else had more or less the same experience those two nights we were there. And to get up in the morning after that, knowing that you'll spend the next hour sitting still for zazen....I've never experienced anything like it and never want to again.

Next time you're in the dojo, feeling like life is unfair. Just remember winter wonderland.

Of sneak attacks and psychological warfare

I can't recall what technique it was. But there was a class that Tim was teaching and I was taking Ukemi for his demonstration. No problem there.
Then all of a sudden, with no warning, he produces a tanto from within his Gi and tries to stab me.
He had picked up the tanto from the kameza earlier in the lesson and stashed it in his Gi for later use.

I seem to have an unusually large amount of memories of people trying to stab me.

But anyway, the point is, it was a sneak tanto attack to check that I had good connection. In this particular instance I did and I remained unscathed.

A few lessons later Tim happened to be taking the class again. I noticed early on that there was no tanto at the kameza. Needless to say I was on edge. Every time I took ukemi I was getting ready for a sudden tanto attack. But none came.
This was scary. I spent the whole lesson watching Tim like a hawk, expecting him to strike at any moment.
It later turned out that whoever was doing the weapons had forgotten to lay out the tanto at the start of class and I had failed to notice.
Sigh.


I think most people have at least once seen Sensei suddenly attack a student as we've all been kneeling and listening to him tell us about the importance of connection.
Well he did it to me once too, pointing out that we never know what might happen. And again on this occasion my connection was good and was unscathed.
However afterwards for several months afterwards he would walk slowly up to me whenever he was talking and remind me that we never know what might happen.
I'm certain he was waiting for the one time I let my guard down. But I never did. Either that or he was waging intense psychological warfare on me. Freaking me out, always keeping me on edge.

I'm not exaggerating about this one, he did this most classes for several months. Slowly walking towards to me as he spoke, always working that sentence in somehow. You never know what might happen.

I'm still waiting for that attack to come. He's still saving it for me. He hasn't said it now for at least a year. But I know he's still waiting for me to forget, to let me guard down. And I'm still waiting for that attack.

I'm still waiting.

You never know what might happen.

Training at EMK over Summer

Probably two of the most intense classes of aikido I've ever had were when I was training at EMK in Summer 2012.

During summer without the GSJ crowd around the place quiets down a bit and very occasionally, as I discovered, you may find that you're are the only one, or one of two people there.

The first was when Sensei was away on other business and so Tom Tam took the class. And I was the only person there. It was intense.

There was no stopping to demonstrate techniques. Tom did the techniques four times and then I tried to do it four times. When I did it wrong he would counter me to show me my mistake and if I did it wrong again he would counter me again. Barely a word was spoken.

A week later Sensei was back. And only Tom and I were there. We spent the lesson working on my connection by way of doing a lot of tanto work. Many of you may not have noticed but in EMK Sensei has one or two tanto which are sharper than the others. Much sharper. When stabbed with normal tanto it feels like someone is pressing a block of wood into you quite hard. When stabbed with these ones it feels like you are being stabbed.

So the lesson was largely around me and Tom practising not getting stabbed by each other as we wielded some rather sharp tanto. At the peek of the lesson this involved grabbing Torii's wrist and waiting for them to try and stick you with the tanto at which point, if your contact is good, you don't get stabbed.

I got stabbed a lot.

I also learnt a bit about striking someone with a tanto. Sensei noticed I had no idea about how to cut someone with a tanto. He, with a tanto in his belt, told me to perform a shomen with my tanto. And with very little effort stabbed me as I tried.

I'm pretty sure he actually rolled his eyes as he did it, I made it just that easy for him.

Thanks for reading!