One of the problems I have with aikido is that it makes me think too much.  And I don’t just mean about techniques and I don’t just mean on the mat.

On evening in the dojo, someone will so something or someone will say something and a light bulb will go on and I will think, “Ah, that relates to something that’s going on in my life.”

For example, I might say when to an uke when teaching about sankyo, “I know it may not make much sense, but it will hurt a lot less if you relax and move towards the pain.” The first reaction of uke, particularly beginners, when they receive sankyo is to tense their arm up and try to move away from the pain and this only generates more hurt.

And while this is going on, I might find myself thinking, “You know, that’s actually quite true outside the dojo.  In our interactions with people, in our arguments and disagreements with friends, colleagues and family, the first thing we find ourselves doing is tensing up, physically and mentally.  We become rigid in our thinking and rather than trying to see the other person’s point of view, we walk away from them or withdraw our emotions.”

Next thing I know, I’ll be trying to apply the sankyo-pain principle to my everyday life.

Interestingly, Douglas Harding, the author of “On Having No Head”, describes a similar idea in his book “Head Off Stress – Beyond the Bottom Line”:

To an amazing extent, our troubles, our stresses and distresses, are the result of keeping our distance, or actually running away from them.  When we go up to them they vanish like a mirage.”

He goes on to document and exercise where you identify a pain or stress in the body and really examine it: where is it in relation to the room you are in, how big is it, what shape, what colour, does it move, does it pulse?  It is quite an effective technique, although he adds the caveat:

Of course, having ‘disappeared’ the tension or pain, you may very easily ‘reappear’ it by thinking aboutit, which means retreating from it.  You have to coincide with trouble to for it to go.

Like aikido, it is not a short term fix, but isn’t it interesting to see that a man who has a chapter to himself in the book “20th Century Sages and Mystics” as well as “Douglas Harding Song” written about him by the Incredible String Band should use a phrase that sounds so aiki: you have to coincide with trouble for it to go.

Now I am not suggesting that aikido is unique in this transference of practice into everyday life.  For example, people who play football might say it teaches you teamwork and discipline, or a surfer “always paddle back out” or “there will always be another wave”.  In short, if you enjoy doing something enough, if you enjoy something enough, pretty much everything in it will become a metaphor for life.

So what else has aikido taught me, that I have brought outside the dojo?  Here are just two examples off the top of my head (I’m sure you can find more):

1. Don’t force it.  It’s a common beginner’s problem (and a not so uncommon problem amongst experienced practitioners) that when a technique isn’t working we try to muscle it through, when there are other options.  We could remember to breathe, or to keep the weight underside, or we could change the technique, or stop and start again, or even decide to leave the mat and try again in another class (I’m not recommending that last suggestion – we need to develop the “gumption” to stick at things – but giving up is an option).   And yet, how often in the outside world when faced with a piece of home maintenance that isn’t going the way I want do I reduce all of my options to just trying to muscle it through, usually making things worse than they were to start with?  How often has it taken my wife to restore my harmony by telling me to pack up my tools and come back to the job another day? Or when involved in a disagreement, I just dig my heels in and hold my position without considering the other person’s point of view (awasemeaning blending or agreeing in aikido), or whether there is another way that works for both of us.  And a disagreement turns into a full-blown argument with me trying to force my opinion, the other person fighting back, and in the end no conclusion or resolution.
2. Weapons – extending awareness.  One of my teachers used to say “When have the jo, you don’t have the jo.  When you don’t have the jo, you have the jo.”  He meant there should be no difference in the feeling you have when you practise aikido’s body arts (taijutsu) and with weapons (bujutsu).  Amongst many other things practising with weapons teaches us to extend our awareness beyond the ends of our fingers into our weapons, and even beyond that.That extended awareness has certainly helped me when driving in two particular ways.  Extending my awareness beyond the metal box in which I am sitting has helped me to spot problems ahead (and behind) sooner rather than later and take the necessary action – slowing down, speeding up, changing lanes, or turning off – well in advance.  In fact, it’s very noticeable to me when I brake sharply or end up in a traffic jam it’s usually because I haven’t been extending my awareness.  The flip side of my own extended awareness is being able to spot those who aren’t aware. The people who drive badly because their awareness hasn’t extended beyond their hands to the steering wheel, or those so caught up in what’s going on their heads – getting to work, going on holiday, being anywhere except Now; in short, the people who cause accidents.  And spotting them means I can take steps like those I mentioned above.

Now that I’ve put the idea in your head, I’m sure you’ll find plenty of other examples of how aikido transfers into your everyday life.