The Basics - and how to practice them

A constant phrase one hears in Yoshinkan is "Return to Basics". The idea is, of course, that the better you are able to understand the basics then the better your technique will become. We all go back to basics and try to make them better in the belief that our technique will gain from it. This is as true in Yoshinkan as it is in math or reading or anything else.

In Yoshinkan we have a set of 6 basic movements (the Kihon Dosa) that we return to in order to improve our technique. We usually do some of these basics (if not all) in every class. When a technique is taught it is taught by refering to a particular basic or maybe one or two of the "6 Kihon Dosa".

Obviously there is value to the basics and I firmly believe that using the "Kihon Dosa" as a teaching tool is a very good way to teach and to learn. By refering to the Kihon Dosa when doing a technique all the *stuff* you have studied about doing a kihon dosa comes into play when you do that part of the technique and your technique gets better because of it.

Now is where it gets interesting.

Almost everyone in our dojo tested a few weeks ago and everyone did a really good job. By a really good job I mean that each person's test was an accurate representation of their ability right now. As part of the test everyone also does the 6 Kihon Dosa and each basic movement is worth (in the test marking scheme) as much as a single technique. This really does show the importance that Yoshinkan places upon the Kihon Dosa.

Everyone's Kihon Dosa was very good and was marked accordingly.

After a test we usually give some feedback to the testees explaining the major points that we saw that were good or that could be improved upon. The interesting thing is that in this feedback session we don't usually refer to the Kihon Dosa directly. Instead, we refer back to the smaller points that make up each movement in the kihon dosa (ie. hips straight, back straight, move front knee, don't step...suriashi, etc.) and to the feeling, presence and confidence shown during the test.

The reason I find this interesting is because it seems that we use the Kihon Dosa as a tool to practice the smaller things and then basic techniques as a tool to practice those smaller things again. In Shioda Gozo Kancho's book "Aikido Shugyo" he says that the purpose of training is to practice the "Riai" or "basic principles" of how the body moves. It should also be noted that he never did the Kihon Dosa, but that they were developed by Inoue Sensei (among others) as a method of teaching a large group of people very quickly.

What this rambling brings me to is that we already know (and it was obvious in the tests a few weeks ago) that when we practice Kihon Dosa we must think about all the little points that make up the Kihon Dosa. About how to move the knees and how to keep your back straight and the numerous other little points.

What we might forget or what might not be so obvious is that we must also practice those little points in the middle of a technique and each time we move. It's not enough to practice them only in the Kihon Dosa. The Kihon Dosa are just a tool to practice only those points and a way to refer to those points as a group when teaching and when thinking about a technique. The technique itself also gives us the opportunity to practice those little points as well as things like "how to move uke off the line" and "timing".

So...keep going back to the basics. But remember that the basics are not simply the Kihon Dosa, but are instead all those points that make up the Kihon Dosa. These are the basics you want to return to...both while practicing the Kihon Dosa and while practicing basic tehcniques.

The Inevitability of a Technique

When we practice budo we hear a lot about "empty mind" and "let the technique happen" and "don't think of which technique to do" and how the best technique is "no technique". This has always been a good and laudable goal and is reminiscent of the way you drive or walk or do those many things that don't require conscious thought.

Of course, while practicing we do think about the individual points of a technique and our instructor will tell us what technique to work on and what aspects of a technique to think about. The thought above is held as the goal in an actual application of a technique in a non-practice situation.

I'm going to take the simple and easy to understand thought expressed above and make it a little more complicated and a lot more alive:

I had a long and rambling and fantastic discussion with a fellow Yoshinkan person the other day and we started talking about how a technique sucks or carries shite along as part of the technique. My friend made the excellent point of that if you are in the midst of a movement and then you decide to apply "a technique" then you have changed what the technique should have been. I equated this to the "observer syndrome" where the process of observing changes what you are trying to watch.

Which lead me to the idea of the "inevitability of a technique". This idea is that a technique will manifest itself if you let it. If you apply thought in the midst of the technique manifestation and try to decide which technique to do or when to apply it, you will have added something new and different to the technique and it will no longer be the technique that "should have been".

To me, this is a good way to describe what is probably meant by the term "empty mind" or "no technique". Accept that a technique is an inevitable consequence of an attack and actively go along with it...like a kayak in a raging river you stay balanced and ride the crest of the technique all the way to the end.

The inevitable end of the technique is uke ending up splatted or sprawled or somehow no longer a threat. As the technique progresses from start to finish it gets to the point where all the energy of the technique needs to be released. I would liken this point to the compression of a spring, or to the winding up of a toy because there will come a point where the technique can't be "compressed" or "wound" any further.

It is at this final point in the technique that the dynamic power of Yoshinkan appears because you add your "human spirit" to that final explosive moment and push all your power and all your focus to that single point at that single time. You haven't changed the technique by thinking of what to do or when to do it. Instead you ride the technique and at the very end focus all your power at the point where/when the technique must be completed.

It is often said that "spirit" is the most important part of Yoshinkan. This concept of the "Inevitability of a Technique" holds spirit as the only addition a person makes to the technique and is used to fuel the technique rather than to change it.

Taking Control of the Technique

I had an interesting email discussion the other day about how sometimes it appears that in Yoshinkan we push against a push or pull against a pull. I don't think that this is the case, however it is one way to teach the initial movement to the side in many katatemochi techniques that would be easily understandable for a beginner.

For example...

Katate mochi nikajo osae ichi:

When uke pulls shite's wrist in the initial attack shite moves to the side and makes a small "U" shape with the hand. This *appears* to have the effect of pulling against uke's pull to make the "U" properly.

Katate mochi nikajo osae ni:

When uke pushes shite's wrist in the initial attack shite moves to the side and makes a small "U" shape with the hand. This *appears* to have the effect of pushing against uke's push to make the "U" properly.

In both cases (ichi and ni) there is a point right at the beginning where it appears that shite is going against uke's power (ie. pulling a pull or pushing a push). This is a very key observation because obviously in Yoshinkan we don't want to do that! We want to go with the movement and change the direction of uke's power in order to have uke get all tangled up, unbalanced and splatted.

So the question is "What's happening here and why does it look like that?"

My answer to this question is that it all goes back to your kamae. When you have a solid kamae and someone pulls or pushes you your kamae should absorb that power so for an instant (a nano-second) you don't move. Thanks to Newton we know that if you push/pull against something immovable it will appear that it is pushing/pulling back even though it is not moving. I think that this is the case in the beginning of the techniques mentioned above. It is not that shite pulls against uke's pull or that shite pushes against uke's push but because the kamae is strong uke might feel that affect. In reality shite is not doing anything except standing strong for that initial nano-second.

The next question is "What does that give us?"

I think that initial nano-second is where shite takes control of the technique from uke. Uke attacks and by standing strong for a very brief (nano-second) moment uke loses their momentum, balance and initiative and shite takes it. Then the technique becomes fairly easy to do (okay...maybe not easy) because you already have taken the initiative from uke. Once that initial nano-second is over you move with and change the direction of uke's initial power, but now you are in control of it. Its also true that it is easier to change the direction of that initial attack because you've messed up uke's timing, balance, momentum and initiative.

This is often true when uke strikes and shite blocks as well. For a nano-second shite blocks a strike strongly and that bit of kamae strength used messes up uke's timing, balance, momentum and initiative long enough for shite to take control of the technique.

I would like to emphasize that I am not saying that you push against a push or pull against a pull, although I can understand this to be an easy "white lie" to show/tell beginners who many not have the concept of "strong kamae" and all that implies in their minds.

I am advocating a strongly balanced kamae that lets you absorb uke's attack for a very, very brief moment - just enough time to mess with their timing and expectation - so that you can take control of the technique away from them. Since they initiate the attack the initiative belongs to them in the beginning. You want to take that away from them as soon as possible so that you can splat 'em. Hard.

This method of taking the initiative does not apply to all techniques, however I think that it is something worth thinking about in most grabbing techinques and many striking techniques. Next time you're practicing a technique see if it applies.

Osu!

Two Wings of One Bird

In today's classes there was some discussion about the difficulties in being shite and focusing on "shite stuff" and then being uke and focusing on the "uke stuff".

The main point of the discussion was that it is easy to get trapped into thinking of a technique from one point of view or the other (shite or uke) rather than as a holistic union of the two. Some people indicated that they didn't care what their partner was doing when they were focused on "their" part of the technique.

I have always maintained that the most dangerous person to practice with is someone around the rank of 3rd kyu because (in general) their technique works but they don't have the experience to feel the feedback from uke which can end up injuring uke. I think this is because they are still keeping the "shite stuff" and the "uke stuff" separate.

Keeping them separate is similar to the phenomenon of drivers vs. pedestrians. When you are a driver you get annoyed with pedestrians but when you are walking you get frustrated with drivers who get in your way.

A more holistic view would be to try to feel what uke feels when you are shite and as uke to try and feel what shite feels while applying the technique to you. If you can manage to imagine and feel the other person's response to your movement or resistance (as the case may be) then you should more easily understand the whole of the technique rather than just half of it at a time.

One other benefit is that you will more quickly understand when your uke is in danger and might be about to be injured if you think of what they are feeling at the same time as you are thinking of "your side".

I believe that working on a technique as two halves is far less than working on the technique as a whole. The gestalt of the two halves is definitely greater than the sum of the two parts.

Something for me to remember when I get lost in the minute details of a technique.

The Hijiate Spiral

There are only a few basic principles that encompass the whole of our Aikido techniques. The problem is remembering to apply all of them at all times in all techniques...

Yesterday I was working on hijiate kokyunage which is my absolute least favourite technique. However, as often happens when training I had a breakthrough in visualization or understanding...maybe a re-breakthrough since I should already have known this.

I'm talking about The Hijiate Spiral.

We know that Yoshinkan works in circles and that spirals are circles that move forward. When I first started doing the technique yesterday I was focusing on the shoulder and using the crook of my elbow to turn over uke's elbow and have that force move in and around (over top) of uke's shoulder to throw them forward and then down.

What I realized as I was doing this is that my circle was very two dimensional. It only went from uke's elbow to uke's shoulder and over it. There was no sideways motion in the circle I was using. No spiralling.

I found if I thought of my elbow pushing into and over uke's shoulder as well as moving the shoulder to the side away from uke's body then I took the balance much more and uke couldn't resist the shoulder manipulation ending up in a much easier but more powerful throw downwards as the spiral kind of arced over uke like a giant slinky.

Again...just applying the basic principles. It's amazing how such easy concepts are so hard to remember let along apply.

Spirals are circles that move forward. I like that :-)

Wind-up versus Compression

I had a really good class today. The technique taught was sokumen irimi nage from various attacks and I was able to focus on my own training and what I wanted to work on without worrying about whether my partner could A) do the technique, or B) receive the technique.

Today I noticed that I was winding up before throwing my uke. I would be standing there with uke bent over double, completely under my control and I would back my arms off and let my weight go back and then go forward again and drop my arms back down in an attempt to make a harder throw.

Well...that is wrong in so many ways

The main point is that every movement you make should end up exactly where you want to be to start the next motion. You should be balanced all the way through and control uke all the way through so that the technique is irresistable. Basically the motion before is the wind-up. If in the middle of the technique you back off your power (as in winding up to throw) you've thrown away any dynamic movement you've had (ie. your original 'wind-up') and you've given uke a chance to escape.

One of the reasons to want to 'wind-up' is that the throw feels stronger and it sometimes feels good to smash uke into the mat. Unfortunately, doing it this way is not actually stronger because uke has had a chance to regain some balance and so the throw ends up being less effective.

A better method of making the throw harder is something I think of as compression. If the idea is that every motion sets you up for the next movement then you should be exactly where you need to be when you go to throw. You don't need to pull back and 'wind-up'. You need to move forward and move uke. As you move it is important that you don't give up your kihon shape but keep moving in the proper direction without compromising your balance. Sometimes (especially when moving statically) this results in a moment when uke does not move. When this happens you have to trust in your technique and compress into uke with your basic shape not changing. If your balance, direction and movement is correct uke will start to move ahead of you and your technique will be powerfull.

Unfortunately it is too easy to pull back, wind-up and try to force uke to move by hitting them when they don't move right away. We need to keep the dynamic form of Aikido in mind when we practice and keep moving forward to let the technique happen instead of forcing it.

Who's Responsible?

I firmly believe that anytime that you are on the mats you should learn something. One of my instructors during the senshusei course used to say "You only have a 11 months. Don't waste any of it!" so I guess I come by that belief honestly.

By saying this every chance he got this instructor reminded us that we are responsible for our own training.

It is very easy to go to class and only focus on the concept that the instructor is teaching. When you do this every class you are letting the instructor take control of what you are learning and what you are focusing on. Your input into your own training is minimal.

This is how I trained in Canada and it was enough at the time. However, there are two problems with this passive approach:

1. The instructor will often show and demonstrate concepts that they are personally working on and that you may not have the experience to understand.

For more than a year, one of my instructors used to end every class with 10 minutes of kokyu nage because he was trying to improve his own timing and the subtlies and nuances that he was describing were beyond me. It benefited my training because it was time on the mat, but it didn't improve my kokyu nage as much as I thought it would. I just wasn't there yet.

2. Everyone has different things that they are working on at different times and the instructor has to teach to the whole class and not to one particular person. The instructor also must try and teach a variety of concepts and techniques in subsequent classes so you may not get a chance to have an instructor lead class on a particular concept more than once every so often.

The alternative and more active approach to training is to assume responsibility for your own Aikido and to train every class with a clear vision of what you want to practice. You do this in conjunction and at the same time as practicing what your instructor is showing.

This makes your training session a little more mentally challenging, however the fact that you work on your own major weak points every class as well as the concepts and skills the instructor is teaching will really improve your Aikido. I have found that it is best to focus on one thing (the concept or skill I am taking responsibility for) for weeks or even months at a time.

If you take the example of my instructor who spent more than a year pushing us through kokyu nage for both his benefit and ours you can see how long this might take.

It's difficult to decide for yourself some concept or skill to focus on every class. It is much easier to let only your instructor dictate your training. However, if you can focus on both your own weak points and the lesson planned by your instructor you will improve at a much faster rate.

Sometimes I forget to do this and when I remember I berate myself for it. Think of the mat time I wasted!

Some examples of things that I focus on at different times are:

1. Suriashi when moving
2. Back leg straight throughout every movement
3. Weight forward at all times in every technique
4. Strong kiai with every strike
5. Move into uke at beginning of every technique
6. Never look down during a technique
7. Always get uke to move in front of you - never pull
8. Use as little strength as possible for every movement
9. etc...

Where did all the bad days go?

I was asked "Do you have Aikido good days and bad days?" by one of my students a few months ago.

It was a good question. An interesting question. It was also a question that I had not thought about.

My immediate response was to think "Of course I do. Everyone does." but to answer without thought would have been unfair to the student and, as it happens, to myself.

"Do I have good days and bad days" in my Aikido. Good question.

My answer is that I do not. I have 'Good Days' and 'Better Days'. I may have days when my Aikido works better than it does on other days, but I wouldn't call those 'bad days'. I do remember having bad days in Aikido during my Aikido journey, but none recently. I don't know when the bad days stopped but I haven't had one for several years now.

Now the more interesting question is "Where did all the bad days go?"

There are a couple of ways of looking at it:

1. I don't have bad days because I never push myself beyond my abilities.

Okay...this is a throw away. I don't believe it. I know that I push myself past what my abilities are. I still get frustrated when things don't work. I still look in awe at some of my teachers and hope to one day be able to do all that they do. There have been many times when I have been training or teaching and not been able to do something. It does not make it a bad day.

2. My Aikido is more consistant now, so the days when I "can't get anything right" are in my past.

There may be something to this. I had never thought of my Aikido as "consistant" before this conversation and my student suggested that this is why the bad days have disappeared. I have always thought of of my Aikido as "needing improvement" and "getting there but still sometimes sloppy".

It may be that by achieving some consistant level of skill that the 'bad day' syndrome has disappeared.

3. Patience and the recognition that the study of Aikido is a long, long journey

I like this thought the most. I don't think that you can have a bad day if you accept the fact that things may take a really long time. It frees you up to enjoy the moment if you are not constantly in a rush to get through and gain from it.

You can be frustrated at not being able to do something but confident that you will be able to on some indeterminate 'someday' in the future.

Perhaps the training I have done over the last several years has shown me that I can improve and that I will get better. Things that I did not understand before I understand now. I believe that things I do not understand now will be understood later. I also think that things that are currently beyond my ability to see or feel will fall into my perception as my understanding of Aikido increases.

Since I know this I can still enjoy all of my training, even those days that I might have thought of as "bad" in the past.

Now every training day is a good day and every day I figure something out is a better day.

Fear and Concentration Coupled with Trust

One of the most obvious and striking differences between Yoshinkan Aikido and most other martial arts is the lack of fluidity in the teaching methodology.

Yoshinkan relies heavily on building techniques up from a set of basic movements and using references to these movements (the Kihon Dosa) to describe how to do a technique. This results in a very stilted, robotic teaching method where you make a single movements and then stop.

I believe that this is a very good way to teach something for the following reasons:

1. It gives you the opportunity and the focus to stop at every natural point within a technique and study how it works and how to make it stronger

2. It makes it difficult to hide lack of balance or technique by using speed

3. If you can do a technique from a static position then you understand the nuances of the technique and the basic movements within it so when you do it dynamically it will be even stronger because you will have more inertia/power/energy to work with.

4. As a teacher it is easy to see if there is a single different movement in a group of people and therefore notice students who are having difficulty quickly

5. It is easy to practice safely because you stop before applying the "dangerous" part of the technique and both shite and uke know when its coming


The down side of studying a martial art like this is that you can get too focused on the small, finer details found within the technique and not on the technique itself.

There is a dynamic to technique that we must also work on as we study aikido. In Yoshinkan this dynamic is studied using hagime training and jiyuwaza. This training is also valuable and by flowing through the step-by-step points we stopped at during our "by the numbers" training we learn timing and balance and power. As uke we learn to flow and to be safe.

However, this is also not enough.

Yoshinkan is and should be devastating. Part of our learning process should be to understand this important point.

I have been told that spirit is the most important part of Yoshinkan. My experience has convinced me that this is true.

Neither the step-by-step teaching methodology nor the dynamic teaching methods really teach Yoshinkan spirit. They teach pure technique. They give strong form. They teach how to use your body together. They teach you how to keep going when you are exhausted and how to endure pain. They will push you past what you think your limits are.

However they will not necessarily teach you Yoshinkan spirit. Although I think they are a good start.

I believe that fear and concentration coupled with trust holds the key to really going past the technique to learn what Yoshinkan is and why it is a powerful martial discipline.

When attacking...

When you attack someone without holding back and you truly fear their technique you learn something about spirit. When you know that your attack is going to result in your slamming really hard into the mat you learn something about spirit. When you know that the only thing that is going to stop you from getting injured is your concentration and focus as uke because the person throwing you is terrifying then you learn something about spirit.

The interesting thing is that you can only fully commit when you trust the person you are attacking. You trust that they will be able to receive your attack, so you don't hold back. You trust that as long as you stay focused they will not injure you (although it will most certainly hurt).

You have to trust your training and that the people who taught you taught you what you need to know.

When receiving the attack...

When you are being attacked you have to fear that you will be hit and injured if you don't concentrate. You have to trust that your uke will strike you if you lose your focus.

You should also have some fear that you will injure your uke. However, you must trust your training and the training of your uke and know that as long as you stay focused and cocentrate on your technique they will not be injured.


To summarize...

Fear of injury (not fear of pain) is what will drive you to the next level. You have to trust that you and your partner will go as strong and as hard as possible and that your training is such that there will be no injury as long as you both concentrate on what you are doing.

It's an incredible feeling to trust someone that much.

My Lineage - a bit of background

Lineage is one of those things that some people say is critically important because it clearly defines who and what you have been exposed to and therefore how valuable your input is in any given discussion about Aikido.

Other people say lineage is not important because you should be able to judge for yourself how informed a person is without referring to who their teachers are. A person stands on their own two feet and not on the shoulders of those who came before.

For myself, I think lineage is important because it gives a basis of comparison in the same way that some universities are known for outstanding programs in some disciplines but not in others. What a person does with the knowledge given is up to the individual but having a recognized and solid foundation to learn from gives everyone who studies there an advantage.

I happen to have been fortunate enough to have had outstanding teachers throughout my aikido journey.


Kimeda Sensei - 1984 - Hamilton, Ontario, Canada

I started my Aikido journey after viewing a single class taught by Kimeda Sensei.

I had spent a month looking at different martial arts taught by different people in different dojos and gyms. I went through the yellow pages searching for a place that taught the 'martial art' that I wanted to do. I met many different instructors and watched many different classes without knowing what I was looking for. I must have gone to 10 or 12 places before I happened across the "Yoshinkan Aikido" advertisement.

After watching Kimeda Sensei's class for 30 minutes I knew I had found what I was looking for. I joined that night and returned for my first class 2 nights later.


Plomish Sensei - 1988 - Hamilton, Ontario, Canada (McMaster University)

My first few years of Aikido were while I was attending university. One of Kimeda Sensei's senior students, Roger Plomish, opened up a club at the university I was going to. I started going to that club instead of Kimeda Sensei's dojo to save myself an hour or so of driving.

When I finished university I continued to train with Plomish Sensei at his Toronto location until I found another excellent instructor closer to where I lived and worked.


Karasawa Sensei - 1990 - Toronto, Ontario, Canada

I was introduced to Karasawa Sensei at a seminar soon after I moved to Toronto. He struck me as a very strong, serious and dedicated man. In the summer months he didn't train very much because his profession demanded most of his time. He created beautiful Japanese gardens and in the summer was very much in demand.

I learned more about Japanese culture and how Aikido fit within the Japanese budo framework from Karasawa Sensei. As a more senior student at this time he was able to show me both the beauty and the power that is within every technique.

I received my shodan from Karasawa Sensei soon before moving to Japan


Yoshinkan Aikido Hombu Dojo - 1993 - Tokyo, Japan (3rd International Instructors Course / Senshusei Course)

After working in Toronto for a little over 3 years I found myself to be searching for something more in life. I had heard of the Yoshinkan International Instructors Course and was fortunate enough to meet a few people who had gone through it.

One of the most charismatic graduates of the course is a man named Georden Reynolds Sensei. After meeting him and listening to his obvious passion and dedication for Yoshinkan I knew I was going. The rest was just details.

The Yoshinkan senshusei course is a grueling 11-month course taught in conjunction with the Tokyo Riot Police. Those of you who have read Angry White Pyjamas by Robert Twigger will have some idea of the intensity of the course and the demands put upon the students.

There are many instructors at the hombu dojo and if I try to list them all I would fail. The ones who I think made the most difference in my life and who had the greatest influence in my Aikido during this period were: Robert Mustard Sensei, Chida Sensei, Ando Sensei, Chino Sensei, Mori Sensei, Shioda Sensei and Oyamada Sensei.

Completing the course was the most worthwhile achievement I had done in my life up to that moment. I was awarded nidan and my International Instructors Certificate in February 1994


Yoshinkan Aikido Hombu Dojo - 1994 - Tokyo, Japan (Sewanin)

I had intended to return to Canada after spending my year in Japan, but fate had other things in store for me. After completing my senshusei course I was asked to stay on as a sewanin - the liaison between the senshusei and the instructors - for the next course.

My fellow senshusei and good friend Michael Kimeda (yes, he's the son of my first instructor) and I were both sewanin for the 4th International Instructors Course. This is the year that Angry White Pyjamas depicts.

The instructors I would like to mention during this period were: Robert Mustard Sensei, Chida Sensei, Inoue Sensei, Ando Sensei, Chino Sensei, Shioda Sensei and Oyamada Sensei.


Yoshinkan Aikido Hombu Dojo - 1995 - Tokyo, Japan (Itaku Shidoin)

The logical thing to have done after the completion of my sewanin year would have been to return to Canada. I didn't do that. I stayed in Tokyo and became an "Itaku Shidion" or "part-time instructor". I remained at the hombu dojo as a part-time foreign instructor until 1999.

The instructors I would like to mention during this period were: Robert Mustard Sensei, Inoue Sensei, Chida Sensei, Chino Sensei, Oyamada Sensei and Itoh Sensei.

I also was fortunate enough to visit Takeno Sensei's dojo many times during this period.


1999 - 2001 Tokyo, Japan (Little or No Training)

My life surged ahead with the birth of my first son in Novemeber 1998 and I found that I couldn't focus on my training, my work and my family to the extent that I wanted to. Something had to give and since my family and my work are intertwined and dependent upon each other, Aikido was the thing I dropped.

Fortunately salvation came in 2001 and I was able to start training again.


2001 Tokyo, Japan (Roppongi Yoshinkan Aikido Dojo formed)

A man named Roland Thompson Sensei was one of my instructors during my senshusei course but had slowly withdrawn from the dojo after that. Roland had become a friend over the years and when he found mat space in downtown Tokyo he asked me if I would be interested in helping him form a dojo.

After 2 years of no Aikido I eagerly accepted and the RYA Dojo opened in August 2001.

I do not train at the hombu dojo as much as I should now but with Roland Sensei's tutelage, the patience and dedication of our students and my own memories of 20 years of practice and excellent instruction my Aikido continues to evolve...