31 years ago, it was on August 1987, I stepped into the dojo I've always been loyal to.
And by the end of June, we will close it down.
Time to look back and think about what I've learned.
Because, without a doubt, the time I spent there and the people I met partly defined what I am today.
There are many schools and ways of Aïkido,
what made this dojo special is it's independence and openness towards others ways.
There always was a will to learn from other without judging, trying to find the common ground.
There are some schools who are rigid in their practice.
There are some schools who claim to be the "true" way.
I'm not judging this, it is an observation.
I'd even claim that this is necessary for some people to learn, it gives them a clear path.
But the truth is that rigidity and "true way" are just historical falsehood, when you know that they were founded by people who had learned from the original founder and left at one point in time to build their own school.
So yes, they have a "true way", just the "true way" of a certain point in time.
In my dojo I've been a student, I've been a teacher.
And when my teacher died, we took over the future of the dojo.
That is when I understood that being a teacher is not about teaching what I know.
Teaching is learning:
Teaching is being critical about what you believe you know.
Teaching is being critical about the way you were teached.
Teaching is findings ways to allow other to make their own journey towards understanding.
Teaching is helping others find the keys that allow to learn further, without assistance.
Those last 2 points are probably the one I care most about nowadays.
The practice of Aïkido is codified.
It might differ from school to school.
But the underlying principles are, should, be the same.
The actual body movements are dependent on a lot of factors, age, stamina, overall capabilities of one owns body, the other human being you're practicing with and lots of other factors.
But the underlying principles are the same.
One such principle has nothing to do with the mechanics & physics of the body.
It's about respect.
Respect of the other, regardless of sex, age, religion, capabilities, work, ...
The list is endless.
In a simplified way, when practicing we are subjected to an attack and we respond to it in various ways.
What is special about what we do is that the response should not harm the other, it must convince the other of the futility of aggressiveness.
The response should at one point in time, during the movement, reach a equilibrium where the attacker is given a choice.
Either he tries to escape and will hurt himself, either he accepts the movement (being thrown away, some kind of lock , ...) and will end up unharmed.
That is showing respect for the other and for oneself.
For oneself, it is not allowing to be overwhelmed by the attack, responding in a way that is acceptable for one owns safety and the other safety as well.
For the attacker, it is allowing him to have the choice of his own fate.
That respect is about helping people being responsible for their own act and choices.
Another point about teaching:
In all those years, I've seen a lot of people coming into the dojo and leaving, very few staying more that a few years.
Some have left because the way we teach did not suit them, they needed a real predefined path.
That is not something we provided.
That is ok , it's a choice.
Some have left because their own life went in ways that did not allow them to continue.
That is ok.
There is less than handful who came into the dojo, stayed a few years.
And then went their own way but continued to practice.
I pride myself into believing that they were hooked into this practice thanks to me.
Some have become far better than me at the practice.
That is what teaching is about: giving keys, and hope that the other will be better than you.