East and West

I just picked up Somebody Else's Century: East and West in a Post-Western World by Patrick Smith based on a publisher's review.

The opening quote caught my attention:

History is marked by alternating movements cross an imaginary line that separates East from West...
-Herodotus, The Histories

Now if that isn't the perfect description of someone born and raised in Minnesota and studying Aikido at the Shuharikan in St. Paul, I don't what is!

I'll add more as I get through the book.

The Age of the Unthinkable

I recently listened to the May 11, 2009 Charlie Rose interview with Joshua Cooper Ramo on his book The Age of the Unthinkable: Why the New World Disorder Constantly Surprises Us And What We Can Do About It.

His main themes were:
• We have to look at the world differently
• Focus on Resilience, instead of deterrence
• Not always be direct in our negotiations, look at indirect negotiations
• Learn to give away power




The book include a number of excellent thought provoking ideas that one can use in their personal life, at work, in our respective countries and larger world.

I grouped them as ideas for upcoming Aikido classes as:

What is it
"The main argument of the book is not particularly complicated: it is that in a revolutionary era of surprise and innovation, you need to learn to think and act like a revolutionary." (pg. 11)

"...we need policy makers and thinkers who have that intuitive revolutionary feel for the inescapable demands of innovation. We need early adopters, men and women who touch newness and change as an almost totemic reminder of what is possible in the human spirit and who are honest about the fights and struggles that lie ahead." (pg. 37)

Responsibility
[George Kennan] said "Today you cannot even do good unless you are prepared to exert your share of power, take your share of responsibility, make your share of mistakes, and assume your share of risks." (pg. 19)

"There was something profound and amazing in the dynamics of the piles (of sand), he thought: their ability not only to translate order into chaos, but also to translate chaos into order." (pg. 54)

Current state
"The main lesson is that just because something is too terrible to contemplate doesn't mean it's not going to happen." (pg. 56)

[Lawrence Summers], head of the National Economic Council said, "adopt a probabilistic view of the world and discard the black-and-white models that make for success in academia." (pg. 34)

Next steps
"It is senseless to aspire to periods of 'peace on earth' during the lifetime of anyone reading this book unless we begin to change how, where, and why we do fight. Threats to our physical security are complex, new, and growing. They demand nothing less than a complete reinvention of our ideas of security" (pg. 99)

[Aharon Farkash], former head of Israeli military intelligence said "look deep, focus on things that move and change, never ask the usual questions." (pg. 144)

“Deep security doesn’t answer all of our questions about the future. Indeed, it’s predicated on the idea that we don’t have all the answers and, in fact, can’t even anticipate many of the questions. What it is instead is a way of seeing, of thinking, and of acting that accepts growing complexity and ceaseless newness as givens–and, used properly, our best allies." (pg. 108)

“Perhaps the best way to think of deep security is as a kind of immune system, a reactive instinct for identifying dangers, adapting to deal with them, and then moving to control and contain the risk they present." (pg. 109)

“Learning to think in deep-security terms means largely abandoning our idea that we can deter the threats we face and, instead, pressing to make our societies more resilient so we can absorb whatever strikes us. Resilience will be the defining concept of twenty-first century security, as crucial for your fast-changing job as it is for the nation. We can think of resilience as a measure of how much disturbance a system can absorb before it breaks down so fundamentally that it can’t easily return to the way it once was." (pg. 172)

“Resilience allows us, even at our most extreme moments of terror (in fact, precisely because we are at such a moment), to keep learning, to change. It is a kind of battlefield courage, the ability to innovate under fire because we’ve prepared in the right way and because we’ve developed the strength to keep moving even when we’re slapped by the unexpected.” (pg. 178)

“Construction of a resilient society need not be complex. The aim is simple enough: to withstand the surprises that await us; to absorb the worst nightmares and walk away with the core attributes of our freedom intact.” (pg. 190)

“Resilience isn’t a just a passive virtue, it’s also something we have to be able to incorporate into the way we act in the world, whether it is regulating financial markets that change faster than we can think or, as we’ve often done in the Middle East, stepping into unstable landscapes of ethnic and religious fury.” (pg. 192)

“Among the elements common to successfully resilient systems was an ability to constantly reconceptualize problems, to generate a diversity of ideas, to communicate with everyone from fisherman to truckers, and to encourage novelty and even small-scale revolts or crises and recoveries instead of waiting for a big, unanticipated collapse.” (pg. 197)

Peace
“What Jean Monnet, one of the most masterful strategists of the last century, wrote in 1951 is true today: ‘World peace cannot be safeguarded without the making of efforts proportionate to the dangers which threaten it.’” (pg. 240)

“We owe everything to human creativity. Everything that lasts, that changes our lives, that emerges from what was once unimaginable has its roots in that initial spark of innovation.” (pg. 240)

“I want to propose [is] that we focus our attention also on the very smallest parts of the system, on people, and bet that the one thing we know for sure is that we can’t predict what they’ll do. In other words, the last step to deep security in a world of unthinkable granular surprise is to push-as hard as possible-for even more unthinkable granular surprise.” (pgs. 242-243)

“As Niels Bohr remarked in later life, ‘Every valuable human being must be a radical and a rebel, for what he must aim at is to make things better than they are.’ Conformity to old ideas is lethal; it is a rebellion that is going to change the planet.” (pg. 262)

Lagom

Lagom is a Swedish word with no direct English translation, but loosely translates to mean "just the right amount."

Wikipedia has great background including:

The Lexin-Swedish-English Dictionary defines Lagom as "enough, sufficient, adequate, just right."

It is also widely used as a state of living that is "in moderation, in balance, optimal, suitable and average."

When I came across this word it reminded me of the ideal of Fudo Shin. This is often used in martial arts training as the state of stable or unmoving mind" or unmoving heart."

An old definition that I have in my training notebooks of Fudoshin is:

A spirit of unshakable calm and determination, courage without recklessness, rooted stability in both mental and physical realms.
Like a willow tree, powerful roots deep in the ground and a soft, yielding resistance against the winds that blow through it.

Stan Wrobel, Ph.D. wrote in Aikido for Self Discovery: Blueprint for an Enlightened Life

"Too often we try to hard or do too much. There is little trust in riding the flow, in effortlessly staying in touch and on top of the situation. Without effort it seems like we're not participating, we're not doing, and we're without self-image that we can relate to. Effort, tensions, and impatience characterize our being."

Shuchu-Ryoku (Focused Power) and Multitasking

I came across this great article on multitasking by Ruth Pennebaker in the NY Times. The title is: "The Mediocre Multitasker" and

The opening reads as:

Read it and gloat. Last week, researchers at Stanford University published a study showing that the most persistent multitaskers perform badly in a variety of tasks. They don’t focus as well as non-multitaskers. They’re more distractible. They’re weaker at shifting from one task to another and at organizing information. They are, as a matter of fact, worse at multitasking than people who don’t ordinarily multitask.

This really connected with the Aikido concept of Shuchu-Ryoku or Focused Power.

Kancho Sensei wrote in Total Aikido:

By using shuchu-ryoku, all of the power that is brought together from the whole body can be sent out through one point.

In Aikido, as well as work or family life, if you are trying to focus on too many things, you lose being fully in the moment and appreciating the subtleties and feeling of connecting. As well as in Aikido, if you try focusing on too many Uke's at the same time during Jiyu-waza one will wind up connecting with a strike to punch.

Seken wa semai yo / It’s a small world

While preparing for an upcoming class I came across the quote Seken wa semai yo, which translates roughly to: It’s a small world.

It is interesting the things you remember from youth. One that I carry with me is when, in elementary school, we had yearly musical performances, I'm sure as all children do.

There are a couple of songs I remember singing ranging from Country Roads, Take Me Home by John Denver to High Hopes (Oops, there goes another rubber tree plant) by Jimmy Van Heusen and Sammy Cahn, but the one that has always carried a special memory is the Walt Disney song It's a Small World After All.

In years past I've traveled to a number of Walt Disney destinations and each time came across the same song.

The jingle always sticks in my mind...

it's a small world.
it's a small world.
it's a small world.

It's a world of laughter, a world of tears.
it's a world of hope and a world of fears.
there's so much that we share,
that it's time we're aware
it's a small world after all.

it's a small world after all
it's a small world after all
it's a small world after all
it's a small, small, small, small world.

There is just one moon, and one golden sun.
and a smile means friendship to everyone.
though the mountains be wide.
and the oceans are wide.
it's a small world after all.

it's a small world after all
it's a small world after all
it's a small world after all
it's a small, small world.

it's a small world after all
no matter if you're big or small
come on everybody let's bounce to this!
let's play some love with a little twist!

it's a small world after all
it's a small world after all
it's a small world after all
it's a small, small world.

After hearing the song I flash back from the present moment to the past when my class was singing on the stage. There are fond memories of friends I grew up with and played many games with, each has gone their separate ways, but when we cross paths, fond memories arise. It also makes me realize how fast time goes by and that time in school is a microcosm of the world we live in.

I flash back to the present moment and time seems to have stood still when I think of how fast it has been since I first started my training and study of Aikido. I smile when thoughts drift from the beautifully decorated, well appointed, and world known dojos to the tiny, unknown, “non-ventilated” training halls I’ve trained in and all the great Aikidoka and Budo practitioners I've had the privilege of meeting and training with.

All have contributed to who I am today and I realize that each of us is unique in our many ways and share our friendships and experiences with one another every time we get on the mat and train or sit and converse over a hot cup of tea or a cold beverage.

This would not have been possible had I not entered that first Aikido dojo, over twenty years ago.

Flash back again to that first class: the waning sunlight streaming through the windows, watching the small dust particles float in air. The feel of a fresh, stiff, new dogi; each movement eliciting a crackle. The sight of people swishing across the mat like they were skating; broken only by the soft slap of a hand to mat as others go rolling by.

Suddenly my nose picks up a strong, clearing scent of an overly bleached dogi offset by the welcoming smell of recently oiled trim work.

The thought and moment closes with the feel of a small bead of sweat rolling down my temple, followed by the command to line up, sit in seiza, and bow in for the class.

As the years and miles have rolled by, the true treasures are the friends I’ve made and training partners I’ve had the great privilege of working with and will always be with me, wherever I train or travel.

Gozo Shioda Kancho said during the first year of the IYAF (International Yoshinkan Aikido Federation) "My idea is that since the world has become such a small place we should move beyond thinking in terms of nationalities. The goal entrusted to this federation is to spread the harmony of the aikido spirit throughout the world. Its purpose is to create a peaceful world where it is possible to harmonize with anyone of any race. There is nothing as wonderful as the spirit of harmony and when I started this federation I thought about how we must all get along, how Americans and Soviets must become friends. I thought how the world is a single family and that we must make the world into a place filled with fine human beings."

It seems with those flash backs I’ve come full circle and the jingle is playing in my head again…

it's a small world after all
it's a small, small world.

How many dojo have you trained at?

Recently a young student at the Shuharikan asked me "How many dojo have you trained at during your time in the martial arts?"

Wow - what a great question! I don't know the actual number, but what I remember most is the variety and specialness in each one.

As I reflected more on the question, two wonderful descriptions come to mind, no matter the art style.

The first is from Richard Strozzi Heckler in his book Holding the Center: Sanctuary in a Time of Confusion.

"...layers of memory that take me through thirty years of training in dojos spread over a dozen countries. They've ranged from the traditional dojos of Japan with meticulously hand-crafted designs and highly polished wood to converted garages that were so small you had to wait against the wall for your turn. Dojos whose surfaces ranged from the classical fiber tatami mats to wooden floors, tire filings under canvas covers, rugs over cement, straw mattresses, and one that was laid out on hard-packed dirt beneath a flowering mango tree.

There were dojos dedicated to preserving the traditions of ancient fighting systems with the air of formality and erudition that one finds in the archives of great universities. Others were word-of-mouth dojos that collected tough guys and those in the profession of arms-special operations soldiers, secret service agents, bodyguards, law enforcement tactical units, street fighters looking to test themselves. In the small changing rooms you could hear the sound of boot knives handguns being unstrapped.

In one particular dojo I was unexpectedly gripped at the entrance by the luminosity that emanated from it. It was a work of art in its physical beauty but it was visceral feeling of the sacred that moved me. That evening a profound mood of reverence was present in the training. I felt like a small child holding a rare and priceless vase, and an emotionally charged sense of responsibility guided me. As I bowed out at the end of class, tears filled my eyes. I felt connected not only to those who had made this place possible, but to something weightless and eternal. In this dojo I understood the words of the poet, John Keats, when he said, 'Beauty is truth and truth is beauty.' And there was everything in between."

The second is from Dave Lowry in his book Persimmon Wind: A Martial Artist's Journey in Japan.

"The community dojo nearest Sensei's house was called the Genyokan. It was about four miles away by foot or car, along a narrow prefectural road, then another three-quarters of a mile after that by a seriously vertical hike. The first time I visited it, before I'd even reached the dojo itself I had already decided that if any martial artist came to Japan looking for the ideal training hall, the dojo of his dreams, there would be no way he could be disappointed in the Genyokan.

More gracefully rendered in Japanese than in an English translation, the kanji characters for 'Genyokan' mean 'the hall of the source of evening's twilight.' It was an entirely appropriate name if ever there was one. I am certain that only the most determined or lucky or badly strayed beams of sunlight could ever have filtered their way through the evergreen canopy that enveloped the dojo. The forest around it was so intense that it was quite invisible from no more than fifty feet away from its front gate. At that distance, there were only the great round pillars of cryptomeria trunks, their piney scent tinting the shadowy, motionless air. The dojo was approached by a path of set stones that ran through the gate, its wood whitened with age. There was no fence, only this gate with its thick oak panels and above it, a Shinto torii arch. When the gates were closed, so was the dojo. Opened, they signalled that training was going on and members passed through them to the dojo structure itself.

The Genyokan was built in the shindenzukuri style of architecture, as are most traditional dojo in Japan. The walls were low, topped with wide-eaved roofs. The roof was hipped and fluted upward at the corners where it met the underhang. Roof-tiles, once shiny blue were now a rich azure that showed through here and there where the moss and fallen rusty cryptomeria needles had not completely covered it. The outer walls were creamy plaster and supported by a framework of dark, age-stained wood. There were no windows, just ventilation openings set high up on the walls and covered with wooden shutters. When the shutters were slid back, there were thin slats that protected the windows and kept birds out. These openings were also far up enough along the walls to frustrate any view in from the outside. In the old days, matters in the dojo were private. It would not do for an outsider, possibly a spy or enemy, to learn the secrets of the arts being taught within. This concern for secrecy is reflected in the architecture of all traditional dojo."

What is the best memory you have of training or the most unique dojo you've trained at?

Tenchi Nage or Heaven and Earth

In tonight's class we worked on Tenchi Nage also known as Heaven and Earth throw. It is a study of where one hand travels upward towards "heaven" while the other hand travels downward towards the "earth." This set of movements provides Shite or the "Doer of the technique" with the study of taking Uke's "receiver of the technique" center of gravity off-line and creating an unbalancing with a minimum amount of effort.

I recently read this "Aikido-like" poem and shared it with the class. I hope you enjoy it!

Heaven On Earth
Author Unknown
I could not define it exactly--the thing I felt about this home. But I could feel it and it warmed my soul. It was the manner in which everyone addressed everyone else. There was no shouting, not even a raising of the voice. Sure, there were disagreements, but I can still remember the reasonable way in which they talked them out. I somehow knew that it would have been very painful to all if someone had spoken sharply because, you see, they loved each other. And how can you harm someone you love?

I remember one day when the father had to take a trip out of town over the weekend. As he left the door that morning, everyone was there to bid him "good-bye", and it was right there I learned the meaning of that expression.
To them, as tears gathered in their eyes, it meant literally "God be with you until we meet again."

I always say that you can tell about a home by observing the apparent "little" every-day events. In this home every event was important. To them each day was the most important day in eternity.

I can still see the scene when we all kneeled down to pray. You know how some people pray; it gets to be more or less a matter of form and has something of the mechanical in it--something you do because it's your duty. But not here. They all joined hands as they prayed, and it seemed to me as if angels were talking to each other. Such sentiments of thankfulness, such please for wisdom, such feelings of Divinity.

I suppose you could say there was a distinctive kind of Spirit in this home. Yes, I'm sure there was. It was the spirit of kindness, patience, loveliness, beauty, and love itself. The thought occurred to me as I left, that to these people
Heaven itself would not be strange when they went there, because they had a corner of it right on earth.
http://www.scrapbook.com/poems/doc/254/49.html

Future

Today was fun watching the kids in class as Glen Sensei taught.

The many smiles and sense of accomplishment in learning something is extremely rewarding to realize we are continuing a tradition.

As the Shuharikan, in St. Paul, we are teaching what we learned and sharing what came first from Japan and with these students; will continue the lineage of Aikido into the future.

What was past, becomes present and the present becomes the future. The idea brings to mind part of TS Eliot's Four Quartets poem Burnt Norton

"Time present and time past
Are both perhaps present in time future,
And time future contained in time past."

Dave Lowry wrote in Permission Wind: A Martial Artist's Journey in Japan

"The way of the bugeisha culminates only at the conclusion of his life. All else is a journey to ever-receding destinations. There can be no final lesson, no ultimate secret to reveal."

It reminds one that the journey as a student and teacher is never done.

Goshin Waza

The idea of self-defense or Goshin Waza should be thought of in a broader sense than just physical techniques. In our Kids Class this idea has been expanded by each instructor high-lighting a different aspect of self-defense. Some have included the use of one's voice and general area awareness.

In my recent class I high-lighted fire safety and the idea of: Stop, Drop and Roll. The North Spokane County Fire Department in Eastern Washington have a wonderful image, see below, describing what to do in case your clothes catch fire.





With the week of October 4 to 10 being Fire Safety Week, the timing was most appropriate.

What are some ways you practice self-defense on a regular basis?

Pohoda

"a harmonious state of contentment that manifests itself, for example, when friends get together over a drink to enjoy each other's company and let life's hassles fade away."

Eric Smillie wrote of pohoda (\po-ho-da\) in AFAR magazine. It perfectly describes a Saturday coffee and breakfast at the Downtowner Woodfire Grill in St. Paul following the Adult and Kids classes.

Autumn Song

One of the beauties of living in the Midwest is the change of seasons. Fall for me is my favorite season of all; you smell the crispness in the air, the leaves changing color and the beautiful sunsets.

Van Morrison wrote "Autumn Song" on the album Hard Nose the Highway

Leaves of brown they fall to the ground
And it's here, over there leaves around
Shut the door, dim the lights and relax
What is more, your desire or the facts

Pitter patter the rain falling down
Little glamor sun coming round
Take a walk when autumn comes to town

Little stroll past the house on the hill
Some more coal on the fire will do well
And in a week or two it'll be Halloween
Set the page and the stage for the scene

Little game the children will play
And as we watch them while time away
Look at me and take my breath away yeah

You'll be smiling eyes beguilding
And the song on the breeze
Will call my name out and your dream

Chestnuts roasting outside as you walk
With your love by your side
The old accordion man plays mellow and bright
And you go home in the crispness of the night

Little later friends will be along
And if you feel like joining the throng
Just might feel like singing Autumn song
Just may feel like singing Autumn song

You'll be smiling
Eyes beguilding
And the song on the breeze
Calls my name out in your dream

Chestnuts roasting outside
As you walk with your love by your side
And the old accordion plays mellow and bright
And you go home in the crispness of the night


Richard R. Powell's book Wabi Sabi Simple: Create Beauty, Value Imperfection, Live Deeply
summarizes the changes and life simply by saying "wabi sabi nurtures all that is authentic in life by acknowledging three simple realities: nothing lasts, nothing is finished, and nothing is perfect."

As we progress in our training, we go through changes as well. The first class, the first month, the first year and suddenly it has been 20 years. The annual cycle of executing the techniques during Kan Geiko (Winter Training) and as we cover all of the Kihon Waza techniques, we go through life's cycles.

Thoughts/questions to ponder:
Does your training or approach to training change with the seasons? If so, in what ways?
Have your techniques evolved since you started training in Aikido? If so, how and why?
How do you create balance for yourself in your training, studies, home or work?

Foundations

Noted physicist David Bohm said "Individuality is only possible if it unfolds from wholeness."
http://www.flickr.com/photos/marciowelb/show/with/2364375096/

This is a wonderful quote that conceptualizes Aikido, through regular training, your individual personality will emerge.

The training one does in the dojo: physical, mental, social, etc., provides one the ability to interact with others from many walks of life and in the long-term provides one a way to become 'whole.'

By availing oneself to the incredible individuals you cross paths at the dojo, and in daily life, deepens your journey.

What and who are your foundations?

Discipline at the Core, Creativity at the Edge

I came across this quote some time ago while watching a business presentation hosted by the University of Washington. It featured Robert Herbold, a former Chief Operating Officer at Microsoft Corporation, who discussed how profitability and agility can be achieved when businesses balance discipline with creativity.

The quote stayed with me more than what the presenter had to say in that it perfectly described the use of Kamae, Kihon Dosa and Kihon Waza as the basis for one's ability to study and further reveal a deeper understanding of the Aikido techniques in the Yoshinkan style.

It also struck a cord as to why a musician plays the scales to warm up or a painter starts with a color wheel, each using a core discipline to create their works of art. A solid foundation provides the basis for one to grow.

Often times I find returning to the core reveals the excitement of why I continue my study and training in Aikido; I realize I'll never fully know everything about Aikido or life, but that is the fun and challenge of enjoying what you do and continuing to learn and grow. As Carlos Castaneda said "you need to know if it is a path with heart. If it is, follow it."

Irene Hixson Whitney Bridge and John Ashbery

One of the neatest places to visit is the bridge crossing over Hennepin Avenue, between Loring Park and the Sculpture Garden.

A commissioned poem for the bridge was written by John Ashbery.

"And now I cannot remember how I would have had it.
It is not a conduit (confluence?) but a place.
The place, of movement and an order.
The place of old order.
But the tail end of the movement is new.
Driving us to say what we are thinking.
It is so much like a beach after all,
where you stand and think of going no further.
And it is good when you get to no further.
It is like a reason that picks you up and places you
where you always wanted to be.
This far, it is fair to be crossing, to
have crossed.
Then there is no promise in the other.
Here it is. Steel and air, a
mottled presence, small panacea and lucky for us.
And then it got very cool."

Whenever I see the bridge, walk across it, or read the poem, it takes me back to when I first started training in Aikido; as I lived in Uptown and would often ride my bike to the dojo.

Many of the lines stir thoughts of Aikido training such as "The place, of movement and an order" remind me of the structure of class, the lining up, warm-ups, basic movements and training.

It also reminds me of the seasonal cycles we experience so well in Minnesota, as well as the cycles we go through in our individual lives.

Look for connections in the many experiences of your life and there will always be a poem or stanza that evokes wonderful thoughts and memories.

shi wa deshi nari, deshi wa ni nari

Gordie Sensei recently wrote an article "Who's the Teacher? Who's the Student?" as a following piece to Ando Sensei's July 2009 newsletter Yoshinkan Aikido Ryu. In it he noted Ando Sensei quoted Shioda Sensei as frequently using the proverb 'shi wa deshi nari, deshi wa ni nari' or 'The teacher becomes the student; the student becomes the teacher.' Ando indicated that Shioda often told his students, "You must become teachers!"

This brought back wonderful memories of my time staying with Fred Haynes Sensei and his family and training for my San Dan (3rd Degree) exam in Georgetown, Ontario. Fred Sensei noted his job is to share the art and train people to become teachers.

A lineage or passing of tradition from O'Sensei to Shioda Sensei, Ando Sensei and Fred Sensei has been passed and onto the instructors at the Shuharikan and continues with us sharing the art and training people to become teachers.

The May 1999 edition of Utne included an article titled "The 20th Century: What's Worth Saving?" listed Aikido as one to take into the 21st century.
Another highlight was in an episode of Star Trek: The Next Generation, where the security chief, Tasha Yar (played by Denise Crosby), gave an exhibition of the "ancient Earth art called Aikido." This in the 24th century! I hope this story becomes reality.

I owe a great deal to my Aikido Sensei (teachers); the first being Kris Nelson and then Kathy and Alvin McClure, and in the last 15 years, Alistair Thompson, Fred Haynes and Jim Stewart, as they've all helped me start and continue my training.
The Shuharikan is proud to continue the tradition and has promoted multiple individuals to Black Belt and Instructor rankings.

I will always be a student of the art and will continue my training and have the opportunity, responsibility and privilege of teaching and sharing the art with those who will carry on the tradition.

A wonderful friend and mentor, Mary Texer, shared with me an insightful article by Chris Luebkeman, Director of the Foresight and Innovation Group at Arup Group, which perfectly captures the idea of tradition and lineage.

He said, "'A hundred years after we're gone and forgotten, those who have never heard of us will be living with the results of our actions.' It is extremely important for us to remember...that we decisions every day that are going to impact so many others."

Practice

Malcolm Gladwell's newest book Outliers cites research finding the "magic number for true expertise" is 10,000 hours of practice.

He notes "Practice isn't the thing you do once you're good, it's the thing you do that makes you good."

An excellent quote and idea - a true reflection on the things you do in life that are either your profession, passion or pursuits!

Some definitions of practice on the Internet include:

• drill: learn by repetition; "Pianists practice scales"


• exercise: systematic training by multiple repetitions; "practice makes
  perfect"


• rehearse: engage in a rehearsal (of)


• translating an idea into action; " a hard theory to put into
  practice"

Aikido Practice
It has been said that traditionally it took 1,200 to 1,500 hours of practice and training to be ready to test for a Shodan (1st Degree) Black Belt.

This can be broken out approximately with an individual training in two to three classes per week, with an average class running 60 to 90 minutes. Resulting in an annual training time of 225 hours; placing the individual ready to test for Shodan in four to five years.


Questions

• How do you define practice?


• Does your definition take into account the 10,000 hour rule for true expertise?


• What have you practiced for 10,000 hours?

Enjoy all your passions and pursuits with Practice!

Cirque du Soleil's KOOZA in St. Paul

Last evening I attended the Cirque du Soleil show, KOOZA, in St. Paul! It was fantastic and as good as the previous Cirque shows I've attended.

The Cirque du Soleil website states "KOOZA tells the story of The Innocent, a melancholy loner in search of his place in the world.

KOOZA is a return to the origins of Cirque du Soleil: It combines two circus traditions - acrobatic performance and the art of clowning. The show highlights the physical demands of human performance in all its splendor and fragility, presented in a colorful melange that emphasizes bold slapstick humor.

The Innocent's journey brings him into contact with a panoply of comic characters such as the King, the Trickster, the Pickpocket, and the Obnoxious Tourist and his Bad Dog.

Between strength and fragility, laughter and smiles, turmoil and harmony, KOOZA explores themes of fear, identity, recognition and power. The show is set in an electrifying and exotic visual world full of surprises, thrills, chills, audacity and total involvement."

Over the past couple of weeks, as the show drew closer, and my anticipation and excitement grew, I reread the book Spark - Igniting the Creative Fire that Lives within Us All by John U. Bacon and Lyn Heward.

Some highlights that remind me of the magic Cirque performs comes about by diligent planning, attention to details and having fun:

"Every journey inward begins with technique, but it can only progress if you allow yourself to move beyond the mechanics and into the moment."

"In a Cirque show, anything you can imagine, you can do. But this incredible freedom is both the problem and the solution. It requires you to think differently, and that can be difficult."

"To truly enter the world of the imagination, you must first humor these tricksters, but ultimately, you must find your own way in."

"Most of our life we're put in a cage, where we sing the same song day in and day out. But life is not about being caged, life is about flying."

After I see a show, my creative energies are super recharged and my thoughts gravitate to how I can apply the ideas into my personal life, my work life and projects, to teaching the Adult classes as well as in the creation of the Kid's Class format.

If you have the opportunity, I highly recommend attending one of the Cirque shows and be swept up in the magic!