What’s up cuties! This is The Ritsu's Vibez podcast, and if you're looking for that moment of inspiration that comes when you least expect it, then you're in the right place! In this space, we talk about what happens to us every day through a special lens, the Martial Way of the samurai, which that genius Ueshiba Morihei transformed into the art of Aikido. What? You don't know what I'm talking about? then stay with me!
Quick reels, rapid responses – we have no time to waste. We are willing to dedicate only a few seconds if we get immediate value in return, whether it's entertainment, education, fun, or tutorials. But satisfaction must be instant. Be careful though: satisfaction and happiness are two completely different things. We can gain so many advantages to the point of bursting and still feel empty. Self-care, human communication, feeling understood, heard, doing things together, planning together. If you're looking for immediate value, there's an endless offering on social media. If you want to reclaim a small piece of yourself every day, slowly, without strategies, without a quid pro quo, just ideas and listening, then stop here and talk to me. Why me? Because I've discovered the perfect metaphor to look at our everyday lives from a different perspective, and this metaphor is the martial arts, Aikido. Aikido can be practiced even while sitting at the desk; it's a mindset. Let it enter your lives, and step out of the whirlwind. In front of you, there's only you and what you still don't know about yourself.
Today, we're trying to answer one of the questions I'm asked the most: why Aikido among so many martial arts? There are so many martial arts, often sharing very similar principles and values. Therefore, how do you choose and evaluate which martial art is most suitable for you? I'll dedicate a specific episode to that, but today I'll try to answer why I chose Aikido and why, based on my choice, Aikido might be right for you. Because, no matter what they say, Aikido is a sword school. It's presented in many imaginative ways: the gentle martial art, the soft martial art, the martial art of harmony, which is a very straightforward way of reading the kanji that compose it. By the way, if you're interested in discussing the structure of the individual kanji, let me know, and we can talk about it in a dedicated episode.
Some say that through Aikido, you connect with the
universe, understand your deep self, and unite your energies with the energies
around you. When I hear these things, I always think: well, to do this stuff of
uniting with unicorns, rainbows, and flying fairies, you just need to find a
good pusher...
Ready for a tangent? It seems like a really
inappropriate way to present a martial art! Certainly, the meditative component
in Aikido is fundamental and, of course, must be cultivated. It's impossible to
practice without dedicating oneself to the spiritual aspect of Aikido. The
point is that it's a sword school. Both the history of O Sensei and all the
great masters who promoted it are stories of masters who come from the
philosophy of the samurai and the philosophy of the sword. End of tangent!
Every movement in Aikido, every single technique,
follows a movement of the sword. So my answer is the Way of the Sword, but
interpreted in the unique manner of Aikido. In this regard, I want to tell you
a story because, better than my words, who can describe the Way of the Sword is
Taisen Deshimaru, in a wonderful book called "Zen and the Martial
Arts" (you can find the link and references in the episode description).
Taisen Deshimaru tells the story of a samurai who went to the legendary
Musashi Miyamoto to be initiated into the true Way of the Sword. He was
accepted as a disciple, and at the master's order, the samurai spent his time
gathering and cutting wood and drawing water from a distant spring. And this
every day, for a month, two months, a year, three years. In modern times,
anyone would have fled after a few days. The samurai, however, persevered,
thereby strengthening his body. At the end of the three years, however, he
could not bear it any longer.
He said to the master, "What kind of training
is this? I haven't touched a weapon since I arrived. When will you initiate me
into the true Way of the Sword?" The master replied, "I will teach
you the technique since you desire it." He then allowed him into the dojo
and every day, from morning to night, ordered him to walk on the edge of the
tatami and make, step by step, without ever getting distracted, the circuit of
the room.
The master thus taught him to concentrate. One must
concentrate on every action to be able to perform it perfectly. The details of
the technique, the tricks, the artifices, are indeed secondary to
concentration. If one is adequately concentrated, one gesture, just one, is
sufficient.
So the disciple continued to walk along the edge of
the tatami. In the end, he could take it no longer and said to the master,
"I am a samurai, I have practiced fencing a lot, and I have met other
kendo masters. No one has ever used your method. Teach me finally, I beg you,
the true Way of the Sword." "Good," said the master,
"follow me." And he led him to a mountain, where a wooden beam was
thrown over a gorge of unheard-of depth, terrifying. "Here," said the
master, "you must cross this passage." The disciple did not understand
and, facing the precipice, hesitated in dismay. Suddenly, they heard the sound
of a blind man's stick, who passed by them and walked without hesitation on the
beam, feeling it with the stick. "Ah," thought the samurai, "if
a blind man can cross it, I cannot be inferior." And just then, the master
said to him, "for a year, you have walked on the edge of the tatami, which
is narrower than this beam, so you can cross." The disciple understood and
crossed the bridge in a flash.
Thus, the training was now complete: three years
for the body, one year to concentrate on a technique, and an instant for the
spirit in the face of the abyss, in the face of death.
But why is the spirit decisive? Because it decides
everything. In ancient Japanese martial arts, a single blow could be fatal.
Hence the slowness, the concentration of movements before the attack.
Everything is played in an instant, and in that moment, it is the spirit that
decides. This is why the cardinal principle of the Way of the Sword is
"Saya no uchi de katsu," to win with the sword in the scabbard, but
we'll talk about that in a dedicated episode.
In martial arts, there is no waiting time; just an
instant, and you are lost, the opponent seizes and strikes. The spirit must be
absolutely focused, always ready to act and react. That's why it's challenging
to establish a hierarchy between shin, the spirit, waza, the technique, and
tai, the body. Their perfect union creates the perfect action, hence three
years for the body, one year for the technique, and an instant for the spirit.
In Japanese martial arts, the Way of the Sword has always been considered the
noblest art of combat because it combines these three factors into a total
unity. And that's why - but it took me only 6 minutes to get to the point - the
Way of the Sword, as interpreted in the unique manner of Aikido, which doesn't
oppose but creates a single energy by absorbing that of the opponent, is the
answer to practically all the situations I experience in life.
How many times do we find ourselves in situations
where we should have a ready body, a ready spirit, and where we should know the
technique well to manage the context? A very simple example? When we drive.
But when we're in the car, don't we have to do just
that? If we're drunk, we won't go far. Our body must be ready and reactive. If
we're sleepy, that, I can’t even talka bout. On the other hand, if we don't
know how to drive, if we don't know the driving technique, if we don't know the
road signs, having a ready body won't help; we won't know what to do. If I go
to Japan, driving is on the right, and goodbye! A ready body doesn't help me if
it doesn't know the rules of how to drive there. But if someone suddenly brakes
in front of us, it's the spirit that does everything, it's that moment in the
face of death that Taisen Deshimaru metaphorically mentioned in the story -
help, I forgot to breathe, I'm suffocating!
That's where our spirit must react immediately, but
how does it do that? It does so if it's trained, if our body is ready, and if
we know the technique well. If we can understand it from a trivial episode like
driving, then we can apply it to every episode of our life. Another example? A
newborn baby. To pick up a newborn baby, anyone with children knows, the body
must be reactive; we must know the technique to hold it properly; otherwise, it
cries a lot, but if it suddenly slips, it's the spirit that will make the
difference; the body and the technique will follow. And what other examples
come to your mind? I think the situations are endless. In life, being careless
is never the answer. Because whatever we want to do, even the simplest, and
simple is anything but easy - it's not the first time I've said this - we need
a responsive body, to know the technique with which that thing must be done,
and a ready spirit.
Of course, we don't have to spend our lives being in
samurai’s mode even when we go out for drinks with friends, but the art of
knowing how to relax is also the result of knowing when the moment of
relaxation must end to react. Comment this episode on Instagran (Instagran?),
and tell me about your experience. Let me know about examples where you think
this wonderful story of Taisen Deshimaru can be applied, and don't forget to
leave me a DM for the next episodes so we can develop them together. And if you
think this story can be useful to someone, but above all, if you think the Way
of the Sword can be the answer for someone you know, share the episode and
leave me feedback. Let's grow this show together. Thank you for being with me,
and I’ll see you in the next episode.