The Application of Aikido

Mark Jackson

I often use aiki taiso exercises during class to illustrate one of the central principles of aikido and then explain how that principle functions in a series of techniques. For example, fune kogi undo (boat rowing exercise) is an excellent example of how the power of aikido techniques originates in the legs and hips rather than in the upper body. It's important for students to understand why a technique works and what principles are present in the technique that make it an aikido technique. The principles of a martial art are what distinguish it from other martial arts. One martial art may focus on speed and timing to strike vital points on the opponent’s body while another art focuses on balance and leverage to take the opponent off his feet and apply a pin or choke. If we compare the study of a martial art to the construction of a building, the principles represent the foundation. The throws and pins the art employs to address different attacks represent the walls of the building, which are built on top of the foundation. The foundation must be well-planned and solidly built or anything built on top of it will likely fail. The building grows taller as the student learns new techniques and variations. At the same time the student must return to the principles to deepen and broaden the foundation to support the building.

This circling back to the basics is an example of shoshin, or beginner's mind. The devoted student re-examines the most fundamental aspects of the art in a quest to answer the question "what is aikido?" Because aikido is an art based on nurturing harmony with the attacker's energy rather than dominating the attacker, the principles of the art are more subtle and elusive than in many other arts. I think this is why O'Sensei reportedly dedicated so much time to lecturing his students about budo and the principles of his art compared to the relatively small amount of time he dedicated to technical instruction.

Aikido is often labeled a “passive” or “defensive” art. These monikers stem from the fact that aikidoka do not compete in tournaments to determine champions and the art has no point system to decide the winner of a sparring match. These features are present in arts such as judo and karate, which are labeled “offensive” arts or “sports.” If we accept the characterization of aikido as a "passive" art, it would follow that the only options available to an aikidoka in a physical confrontation are to react to an attack initiated by the opponent, as opposed to actively pursuing the scoring of a point, as a kareteka or judoka would, or to flee from the confrontation. But the characterization of aikido as a passive art stems from a lack of understanding of the principles of the art and how they manifest themselves in technique.

By analyzing the central principles of aikido I'd like to explore the true potential of the art and how it can be applied to physical confrontations, and perhaps more importantly, to daily life. The principles on which aikido is based include hanmi (the proper posture that is stable, relaxed and mobile), zanshin (a continual awareness of self and the environment), musubi (a physical and mental connection with the earth and the partner), ma-ai (the proper distance from the partner at each moment of the technique), awase (blending with the partner’s movements so no energy is wasted), kuzushi (the application of hanmi, ma-ai and musubi to capture the partner’s balance), and kokyu (proper breathing that unifies all parts of the body and maintains a relaxed state). Most of these principles are present in other martial arts, but the combination and application of these principles gives aikido its unique appearance and philosophy.

Principles such as hanmi and kuzushi should be introduced to new students as soon as they begin studying aikido. It’s essential for the student to understand how his body is suppose to function in the context of aikido: relaxed, upright posture with a strong connection to the mat, and for the student to understand what effect he is trying to introduce to uke’s body: uke’s energy should be guided in a direction where she does not have support and she must lean on nage to maintain stability. The student must actually feel the stability and mobility that the hanmi stance offers rather than experiencing hanmi only as an abstract concept and a Japanese word. While hanmi and kuzushi are immediately accessible, other principles, such as zanshin and awase, can be introduced to beginning students, but cannot be experienced and understood without a significant amount of training.

Hanmi is the half body stance used in all aikido techniques. When nage stands in hanmi only half of his body is presented to uke. This makes a target that is harder to grab or strike than if nage stood in a natural stance facing uke. Uke is inclined to attack the side of nage's body that is the closest. Thus by standing in hanmi, nage begins to control the engagement by inviting uke to attack from one side rather than the other. When standing in hanmi, the feet form a triangle. The front foot represents the first point of the triangle and the heel and toe of the back foot represent the second and third points of the triangle. The stance forms a wedge that is extremely strong front to back. The back leg can absorb force received from the front and the front leg can absorb force received from the rear. The stance is vulnerable from either side since there is no skeletal support to absorb force received along the short axis of the wedge. To compensate for this weakness, nage must be proficient at moving his hanmi in any direction and by pivoting on the front foot to face in the same direction as uke. Nage's objective is to keep the point of the wedge of his hanmi pointed at the weak line of uke's stance. When nage aligns the strong line of his hanmi along the weak line of uke's hanmi, nage can unbalance uke while exerting minimal effort and without relying on upper body strength.

 When standing in hanmi the upper body should be settled, floating on the pelvis; the pelvis should float on the knees. The knees are slightly bent to lower the center of gravity to increase stability and to press the feet into the mat. The overall sensations of hanmi are relaxation and groundedness. This is not to say that hanmi should feel "heavy" or rooted--nage must be able to move in any direction instantaneously but still have a solid connection with the mat in order to direct energy through uke's body. This connection with the mat draws the stability of the earth up through the skeletal system of the body to produce an incredibly strong structure. When nage stands in right hanmi and offers her right hand to be grabbed for katatetori, she should have an awareness of this connection with the earth. The left foot presses against the mat which creates a linkage between the floor and the hips through the left leg. She lowers her hips slightly and extends the right arm by dropping the elbow and making a scooping motion with the right wrist, the fingers pointing a bit upward--this extends the linkage from the hips, through the shoulder, down to the elbow, and out the little finger. When uke grabs nage's wrist and pushes, he should not feel resistance from nage's upper arm or lower back; instead, he should feel the floor pushing back. As long as nage keeps her right hand, hips, and left foot in alignment with one another and maintains a relaxed upper body and sense of extension, uke can exert a significant amount of force without being able to move nage. 

As uke exerts more force in an attempt to move nage, nage can quickly redirect uke's force by moving her hanmi to point at a weak line of uke's stance and thus unbalance him. Unbalancing uke through the use of hanmi is known as kuzushi. Kuzushi must occur in order for nage to lead uke's energy into a throw or pin. When nage achieves proper hanmi her body serves as a conduit for uke's energy and the earth's stability. Neither her own energy nor uke's energy gets trapped in the muscles of her upper body. Energy is encouraged to flow freely as she continues to breathe from the center of her body through out the technique. Functioning as a conduit has a very different feeling than taking possession of uke's energy in an attempt to resist or overpower it. Even if nage is strong enough to resist or overpower uke with brute strength alone, these efforts are exhausting. Exhaustion can prevent nage from executing a single technique; let alone the many techniques required during a randori session. Proper use of hanmi as a means of achieving kuzushi is the most efficient way to fell multiple attackers.

Mental imagery is also essential for proper hanmi. As nage is learning hanmi, she should actively visualize her connection to the earth, uke's energy flowing through her body into the earth and back to uke, and imagine her own energy extending out infinitely in all directions. Nage must make adaptations to a technique to match the dynamics of the situation. For example, uke's size and the speed of attack will dictate the proper distance, or ma-ai, that nage should maintain through out the technique. Although nage adapts to the characteristics of each interaction with an uke, hanmi should never be compromised. The mental imagery of extension and relaxation should never be abandoned for thoughts of struggle or escape. If nage maintains the mental imagery of being connected to the earth and extending her energy out infinitely in all directions, there is no mental obstacle to overcome when a large uke attacks. No uke is stronger than the earth or fast enough to defeat infinite extension. Once the student's body learns how it feels to be relaxed, grounded and extended, the mental imagery may no longer be needed.

 Breathe in and let yourself soar

 to the ends of the universe;

breathe out and bring the cosmos back inside

                                                                                                O'Sensei

The simple katatetori exercise described above illustrates that hanmi is not a passive stance that nage adopts in response to an attack. It is a technique in itself.  It involves aligning the hands, hips and feet to maximize the strength of the skeletal structure of the body, pressing that structure into the immovable earth, and directing the earth's stability out toward uke before uke attacks. Dedicated practice of hanmi promotes relaxation and confidence. As a student becomes more proficient at hanmi, he is willing to relax because he learns that relaxation and proper body alignment produce tremendous strength. His confidence grows because he learns that he doesn't have to resist uke on his own by tensing the muscles of the upper body, he can harness the mass of the earth and let uke struggle to move the planet! Once the student understands the proper function of hanmi he approaches the conflict not from the role of a target or a victim, but as an active participant who is directing the course of the engagement. The student no longer perceives the attack as a problem to solve or an obstacle to overcome--the attack is simply energy that enlivens hanmi and makes it stronger. At this stage the student begins to become a martial "artist", personalizing the principles of the art based on the unique characteristics of his body and personality. As an artist, the student uses uke's energy to create a technique the way a painter uses oils to create a painting.

The dynamics of hanmi are just as applicable and powerful off the mat as they are during an aikido class. Much of the anxiety and tension we experience as a result of our interactions with people on and off the mat stem from the mental state we adopt before the interaction. Let's take a scenario from the workplace as an example. An employee is overwhelmed at work: he has so many projects that he can barely keep track of them, let alone actually complete the work. He'd like to discuss the excessive workload with his manager, but he's afraid his manager will think he's just complaining or that he's asking for special treatment. The employee adopts a passive role and continues to suffer. Once the employee adopts a passive mindset, it's unlikely that he'll approach his manager about his situation. If he does raise the issue, he'll likely only present a half-hearted argument since he has decided ahead of time that his efforts are futile. This state of mind is similar to nage bowing to uke and telling himself, "this person is bigger and stronger than me and I probably can't move him." Once nage convinces himself of these statements his body tenses, his breathing becomes shallow, and it's almost impossible for him to adopt proper hanmi. The thoughts that occur in the mind directly affect the physical state of the body.

As hanmi provides the confidence needed to engage and throw a large uke, it can help the employee gather the courage needed to approach his manager. Before going to his manager's office the employee can take a moment to ground himself--letting his neck and shoulders be soft and taking a few deep breaths. He feels himself settle into the chair or he stands up and feels his feet against the floor. Establishing this connection with the earth gives him a sense of security and power. He imagines this feeling extending out toward his manager, not in an aggressive manner but as a positive act. He reminds himself that the outcome of the discussion has not been determined before it starts. He can present his concerns in a positive light and elicit his manager's input. If his manager offers resistance he doesn't have to succumb to panic or resort to anger, he can move from one strong position to another strong position, offering counterarguments and looking for compromise. The feelings and tactics are similar to nage moving his hanmi to adapt to uke's movements, neutralizing uke's aggression so that positive energy can continue to flow. Talking with his manager may not solve all of the employee's problems, but the act of centering himself and engaging his manager builds confidence. This confidence is essential for healthy interactions at work, in our daily lives, and on the mat.

Discovering our hanmi and how to use it to blend with uke requires awareness of the thoughts and images in our minds and the sensations that arise in our bodies. Perceiving tightness in our bodies and resistance in the bodies of our ukes is a necessary step to improving technique. If we're not aware of what's occurring during a technique, there's little hope we can improve upon it. Once we're aware of a difficulty, we can learn how to apply the principles of the art to minimize the difficulty. Minimizing tightness and resistance allows us to perform many throws without becoming exhausted, which is needed in a randori session. In the martial arts, awareness that is focused internally and externally is called zanshin. Zanshin is a special type of awareness: it accurately observes what occurs inside and outside the body but takes no possession of the occurrences and passes no judgment on them. A student might be aware of the fact he experiences self-deprecating thoughts when working with certain ukes, but this awareness can fuel itself into an obsession that produces weakness and depression--the more the student has these negative thoughts, the more he's convinced they're true and that he has no recourse. Zanshin, by contrast, simply observes a thought, an attack, or a spoken word as it is. Once the object has been identified, we can use the tools we possess to decide how we want to respond to the object.

Anzan Hoshin roshi describes zanshin as "complete follow through, leaving no trace. It means each thing, completely, as it is." This description describes nage's blending with uke. Ideally, the encounter between uke and nage should be completely "clean." By clean I mean there is no preparation for the encounter on the part of nage. After the encounter, nage bears no negative effects from the encounter. If uke's intent is sincere, nage has no time to find his hanmi, devise a strategy, or worry about the outcome of the attack. The outcome will be decided in an instant. Nage must be ready: grounded, relaxed and extended, before the attack occurs. From this mental and physical state he can easily observe the attack, blend with uke's energy, and then move on. The fact that zanshin does not become attached to what it observes is important for the tactical aspect of a martial art. During a randori session, nage must be aware of the entire mat at all times--an attack can come from any direction. If nage observes a punch being thrown and leaves his attention on the punch, thinking "that was a hard punch" or "I was late blending with that punch," he will likely not observe the next attack coming from the rear. He has become attached to the punch and his response to it. If nage applies zanshin to the encounter, he would observe the punch, decide to avoid it or blend with it, taking uke off balance and into a pin or throw, and then move on to the next encounter. Nothing is wasted or left behind. This is the definition of awase, or blending, which should occur in every aikido technique. Just as hanmi is not a passive stance that waits for an attack to occur, zanshin is not a passive state of mind that arises only after uke launches an attack. Zanshin continually reflects the state of the internal and external world like a mirror. The new student must work hard to maintain zanshin for a few moments during class. Eventually the time period lengthens and requires less effort to maintain. Once this stage is reached, the goal becomes carrying the feeling outside the dojo so it can enhance all aspects of the student's life.

There are entire disciplines dedicated to nurturing zanshin. Zazen, misogi and yoga are some examples of these disciplines. Aikidoka can benefit from practicing these disciplines and from incorporating aspects of them into aikido practice, but the hundreds of simple actions we perform each day also represent opportunities to cultivate zanshin. Consider the typical morning routine: waking, bathing, preparing and eating breakfast, brushing teeth, and getting dressed. We all perform these actions each day. They have become habitual acts that require little awareness--we perform them while thinking about the busy day ahead, watching TV, or reading the paper. If we navigate through our daily routines in a state of habit and distraction, it's that much harder to "turn on" zanshin when we step on to the mat for an aikido class in the evening. I feel much more centered and relaxed when I train first thing in the morning compared to when I train after a hectic day at work. If zanshin can be incorporated into daily activities, the transition to the dojo will be easier. For example, turning off the TV and eating breakfast with awareness--actually tasting the food and experiencing the sounds and sights of the morning helps to start the day in a positive and peaceful state of mind. While brushing teeth feeling the feet on the floor and searching the body for tension or soreness promotes body awareness that is necessary to achieve proper hanmi. During a conversation actually listening to the words that are spoken rather than preparing a rebuttal or letting the mind wander to other topics promotes the awareness needed to read uke's intent. By themselves, these examples seem insignificant but as more insignificant moments of awareness are incorporated into the day, the fabric of zanshin begins to take shape.

Zanshin also has practical applications outside of the dojo. Many of us drive the same route to work each day. The act of driving becomes a habitual act we perform while listening to the radio or talking on the phone. We may arrive at work with almost no recollection of the drive--as if we were on autopilot. But driving a car is one of the most dangerous acts we perform in the course of our day. It deserves our complete focus since a lapse in attention could cause serious injury to ourselves or others. Staying focused behind the wheel, watching the flow of the traffic, and the interactions between the cars is similar to the awareness of the entire mat that is required during randori. If we can incorporate this awareness into our daily commutes, we improve our skill at randori even when we're not at the dojo.

True budo involves practicing the principles of the art at all times. There are many stories of a samurai being "attacked" by his teacher while the samurai was eating or bathing to test if the samurai was on guard. This example is archaic but still has some validity in modern times. I need a partner to realistically practice kote gaeshi or irimi nage but I don't need some one to punch me before I can practice zanshin, centeredness, or blending. Each moment of daily life presents an opportunity to refine my understanding and embodiment of these principles. If I practice the principles continuously, my interactions with uke on the mat are no different than my interactions at work or at home. The mental state aikido adopts and the objective it seeks are also applicable, and very much needed, outside the dojo. Aikido does not seek the limited goal of scoring a point or holding a title for a brief period of time. Aikido seeks harmony among all beings. O'Sensei encouraged his students to "foster peace in [their] own lives and then apply the Art to all [they encountered”.] Not everyone we encounter will share this objective. Many people seek immediate gain for themselves or are motivated by fear or delusion to harm others. The techniques of aikido allow us to deal effectively with these people when we are the objects of their intentions. Although these techniques can seriously injured or kill people, aikidoka do not seek the dominance or destruction of others, regardless of their intentions, but rather the preservation of positive energy and harmony that they threaten. The ultimate goal is to train diligently in the principles of the art, on and off the mat, so that the application of the principles becomes unconscious. So that aikido becomes our natural response to any attack, conflict, problem or situation.