As “Ki to the City” approaches the six month mark, I've been reflecting, sifting through insights gleaned from conversing with the luminaries I've had the pleasure of engaging with. Personally, it's been a profoundly positive and metaphysically enriching experience for me, so far. And I sincerely hope to continue for as long as humanly possible.
I've absorbed more about the intricate history and mystico-philosophical heritage of Aikido in these past six months then the previous 23 years of my training. I even found someone to teach me Chinkon Kishin. (More about that in the near future, I hope.)
But I can't quite ignore this subtle tinge of jealousy I feel - how strongly I wish I was born a generation earlier. Hearing all the stories of Aikido back in the golden era just reminds me how much cooler it must’ve been to come of age in the 70s. It’s the same vicarious wistfulness I used to feel when I was playing in a band in the late 90s while reading biographies of Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix..
It's a bit disheartening - to be honest. At my dojo, on the walls, there are pictures aplenty from old seminars - decades past - and in all of them - there’s dozens and dozens of people.
What, truly, can I do to get my dojo back to that level of prosperity? Of course, I mean without diluting the practice itself?
I consider myself a fourth generation Aikidoka. O Sensei basically lived on the same timeline as my great grandfather - in essence, he could be my great grandfather. That’s what makes me fourth generation. I'm also more or less the same age as Waka Sensei. A few years older, but you get the point.
So, what’s the bestowed mission of a fourth generation Aikidoka? Especially one such as myself training at a dojo currently facing major difficulties attracting new members?
I harbored the perhaps delusional hope that this podcast, this Substack, would send ripples through the ether and somehow initiate a changing current. But, so far, while on a personal level it's certainly enriched my understanding of the history and metaphysics of the art form, and has introduced me to some amazing people, it really hasn't served the original purpose of helping my dojo - the dojo I actually train at - the sacred place I go to five days a week to engage in the practice itself.
Looks like I have some further contemplation to undertake. I have to make some new plans. Even though my plans never work out, I still have to make some, right?
I'm not saying this to be negative, it’s just an observation, and I’m writing about myself so I have to be honest, but my plans never work out. Never.
It’s ok - I've pretty much learned to navigate this almost anti-psychic quality I possess, this inability to ever accurately predict the future based on my own ideas, calculations, or motivations. For what it’s worth - usually - something better than I could’ve ever imagined happens instead of what I was actually expecting.
But right now - I legitimately don’t know what to do.
I’d love to just spout some flowery language describing how ‘everything's gonna be OK’ - I’d love to say I have resolute faith in the kami, and believe that they will assuredly intervene - absolutely - and Aikido will survive another generation…
Of course, I recognize that it's more than a bit pompous, presumptuous, and perhaps narcissistic to imagine that Aikido's survival is in jeopardy, or, at all, in my hands. I had the fortune of visiting Hombu dojo last fall, and it was crowded. There were still tons of people training. It doesn't look like Hombu is in danger of going out of business any time soon.
But the dojo I belong to… well I think it’s a remarkable place and deserves to survive.
So how can I help? Truly help?
I've been living out the narrative arc of an obscure literary character for most of my adult life. I’ve barely existed within the mercantile framework that most people exist in (seemingly with silent, unobtrusive qualms).
I'm out here on the perimeter. Kind of a bum - mostly a benevolent mystical bum. Never like a hard drug alcoholic ruining other people's lives type of bum.
I was always just someone who had a violent traumatic early life and was trying to find peace. So I didn't wanna get entangled in too much complicated, capitalistic, karmic accretion shit. I didn't wanna be involved in “the system”. I didn't wanna contribute my energy to the military industrial complex - and all its branches. I was heavily recruited by the Air Force in high school but I didn't wanna bomb nobody. I guess I resigned from my post long ago.
Since that early resignation - figuring out how to keep myself afloat financially has always been a problem. Now I find myself a board member of a dojo having that same problem and I’m looking for practical solutions.
It could just be something as simple as handing out flyers in the neighborhood. Maybe I just need to start going like an hour early to do some hands on promotion.
But there's only so much time in the day…
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