THOUGHTS FROM CHINA- November 2015

 

Shenzhen - November 2015.

My first Shenzhen visit was October 1986.  Relatively vacant and flat, it was a fishing town located within the newly decreed so-called "Special Economic Zone."  

 

We landed in Hong Kong a few days earlier and then traveled by bus and crossed a small simple border station building to lunch at a hotel restaurant.  Across the waters more "town" was visible.  Skies were blue.  The air was fresh.  Inside the hotel sat samples from the Terracotta Army displayed for foreigners (us) to admire.  Bicycles and three-wheelers were the norm in those days.

 

Twenty-nine years have passed.  How many China visits and names of all the cities visited?  I can't say.  But as for Shenzhen, in place of the fishing village sits towering offices skyscrapers (mid-range / thirty floors), shopping centers and residential buildings, theaters, sports centers, and banks, banks, banks. Construction is constant.   A million cars and trucks (my guess) replace the bikes and trikes, now rarities.  Eighteen million people (fact) live within this one large spot.  Here ... Shenzhen ... only a part of China, immersed in the largest capitalist and market driven experiment the world has ever known.  It runs day and night, full force countrywide.  

 

Chengdu - January 2014.

Eight hundred thirty three miles north and east of Shenzhen rests Chengdu, home of the giant panda.  Administratively, fourteen million (people not panda) live here tucked against Longmen Mountain and the Qionglai Mountains that rise above central Sichuan province.  My first visit to Chengdu - January 2014.  No prior reference points: only the towers of 2014 attesting to modernity.  Over half of the world's Fortune 500 companies host offices in Chengdu.  Mixed into the swirl of humanity are disenfranchised Tibetans - contained, my description, by the energy of watching eyes: a government that wonders what would happen ... if ... if... if....  Chengdu - the birthplace of the world's first ever widely used paper currency.

 

Wenzhou - 2007.

Two hours forty minutes (current flight standards) due west of Chengdu sits coastal Wenzhou.  My visits: by now a few; with the first being August 2007.  I recall from that time.  Grey.  Industrialized.  Flat.  Hot.  Stale.  During the entire trip I saw only one star (actually, a planet).  One striking '07 memory: a lone woman gawked and laughed as she peddled past me on her bicycle.  Me, a strange-looking foreign outsider.  My experiences of that visit were recorded in a poetic piece "This IS China".

 

"This IS China" began:

This is China.  Yes, so are the other cities I've been to over the past few months - Beijing, Shanghai, Haining, etc.  But this IS China.  Large, urban, constantly moving. Not "getting ready for the Olympics".  Gritty city China.  Right now the sun is a large hot smog-screened ball burning through the haze scorching the skin.  I don't know it, the scorch, but I feel it.

Mid-course it read:

What do I notice?  Old men and women ... maybe not as old as they look ... walking underneath the freeway (I don't think it's called "freeway" here) scavenging wood into pots and bowls.  And I wonder, what will become of the wood?  What will become of them? Probably, the same thing.  What do I notice?  A man peddling a three-wheeled awning covered taxi cab (they are everywhere) and placing his right foot on a break attached to the frame above the front tire.

It ended:

After "star gazing" I went to a teahouse. Taken there by two of the students from the Samurai (Warrior) Game.  Both are business owners.  Wenzhou is a business/manufacturing center in China.  The teahouse was a magnificent and quiet place (and very un-Chinese) filled with valuable artifacts from all over Tibet.  All for sale, and some items priced as high as US$12,000.  The place is owned by a woman and a guy.  He's a devout Buddhist.  See comment above about "Higher Power".  We talked about peace.  I see what I get to see, when I get to see it and enjoyed the moment. An interesting trip.  Too bad it had to end so soon.

 

My last visit Wenzhou, 2013.  Susan Hammond joined me to successfully deliver our aikido-based program, The Art of Practice: an interesting undertaking considering the anti-Japanese sentiment within China.  Wenzhou, 2013, architecturally magnificent, with structures towering above the above, making for a skyline unrecognizable these six years later.  Look here, look there:  Bentley - Porsche- Rolls Royce - Lamborghini.  And then: Mercedes and Audi all so commonplace as to be, well, prosaic.  And then:  Buick, Buick, Buick.

 

Back to today.

From where the now-time Shenzhen and China have come in three decades is both breathtaking and breath taking.  On one hand - inspiring: people magnificently transforming a region in such a short amount of time.  On the other hand - disturbing: a rampant smog here in Shenzhen today is elsewhere, everywhere everyday.  There's always more than one side to every coin.

 

Hard to imagine the "was" of 1986, when our plane landed between the buildings of downtown Hong Kong - entry point to Shenzhen.  Today's Hong Kong airport outclasses most of the worlds.  Yes, Hong Kong retains its decades old Star Ferry, but the buildings and those of Kowloon and the expansive stretch of the "Special Economic Zone" with new cities, e.g. ShaTin, these define the physicality of "transformation".  Today most outsiders (including friends at home) have no experienced "real" clue about this place ... only clothing tags boasting "Made in China", with newsprint and talking heads proclaiming "the world's second largest economy."  Ask an average person on the street in Shenzhen, "Who is Obama?", and you'll get an accurate answer.  Ask an average American on the street, "Who is Xi Jinping?", and you'll probably get the same answer as if you asked, "Who is Ashton Carter?"  Well maybe.  To the latter question, instead of hearing "I don't know", you might catch "Jimmy Carter's brother(?)" - not "Secretary of Defense".

 

What is this China?  Where is it going?  Who knows.  Yes, problems loom, including some with serious health and medical implications that could possibly strain and drain the massive economic machine it's grown to become.  But the answer to the "where" question is: We shall see.

 

One thing for certain, China 2015 is anything but static.

 

© Lance Giroux, November 2015

   

The Man At The Sliding Wood Door

Richard Strozzi-Heckler, PhD

Every story starts somewhere - this one starts in the middle.

Before I tell it, I want you to know that this month's article is an overt, straight up call to action. Go to Amazon and order Richard Strozzi-Heckler's newly released book The Art of Somatic Coaching. It doesn't matter what your profession is. Order and read it right away.

This non-fiction journey lays a foundation of purposeful study, understanding, insight and action. With the kind work I've been doing for forty years you know a suggestion like this isn't made lightly. This piece well assists anyone who has ever attended a personal growth course offered by one of the many seminar companies - e.g. est, LifeSpring, PSI, Actualizations, Landmark, Klemmer & Associates, AsiaWorks, WorldWorks, Challenge-U, Top Human, MexWorks, WorldWorks Mexico, LeadMex, Spiral of Success, etc., etc. The Art of Somatic Coaching completes something that some of these companies never attended to or only marginally noted or only recently have begun to study. Richard sent an advance copy at my request. I've taken the time to read the entire work. It is an honor, almost an obligation, to strongly advise you to do likewise.

If you are a coach and have ever coached OR trained someone; OR if you have ever been coached by someone; OR if you have ever used a consultant to forward your business or personal life ... then I say - ORDER and READ THIS BOOK. The same holds true if you have children or have worked with children. Does this endorsement need to be more strongly made?

December's Ronin Post article "Taxi Ride" (about PTSD and Tom Osborn and aikido and what I saw in Russia, etc.) created an unexpected flurry of replies. Good! We need to take action when it comes to attending to the impact (large and small) that past events and social environments have on our lives - at home, at work, in communities and nations. In "Taxi Ride" I related a story of someone who had been invited to attend an advisory meeting of high government officials charged with the responsibility of military actions in Afghanistan.

An earlier Ronin Post article (October 2013) related to a reflection about someone who has contributed greatly to my life. Those who train aikido with me know the "who and where" referred to in those first paragraphs of October Reverie: Surrendering Enough to Commit. As for everyone else, I was content to leave that an unanswered question on purpose.  But some things later require explanation and expansion. That time is now, again on purpose. Both articles, December's and October's, referred to someone without naming him.

The small barn referenced in October's article is a somewhat magical place midst pasture and grape vines, a martial arts school: Two Rock Aikido Dojo. The word "dojo" translates directly to "way place". This is the "way place" where I've regularly studied and trained for the past thirteen years. I often visit other dojos around the US and in foreign countries. No complaints regarding any of them. But there's nothing quite like Two Rock Aikido dojo.

As for the "who" of both articles -- October and December -- the "fellow in charge", the man standing by the sliding wood door, the man who occasionally includes poetry into our aikido practice? The man who was heading off to a meeting with high ranking US officials? This man is Richard Strozzi-Heckler, Ph.D. Richard is "Sensei", dojo cho, i.e. the school's chief instructor. He is my sensei and has been since I first stepped on the mat in 2000. Our affiliation began years long prior to my aikido practice. First he was a colleague. Then he became a confidant; and finally, a treasured friend.

Were it not for Richard, I would not have seriously questioned the path I was on prior to our beginning to know each other. Moreover, I would not have taken bold action to step onto a new path of life, a path that I intend to continue for as long as I live.  

There is more. Most of my friends and acquaintances know how important is the connection I had with George Leonard. But many of them don't know that were it not for Richard I probably would not have encountered George, or if by chance I had, I might not have been ready for the kind of listening and momentum needed to make that encounter take root and flourish - opening a door for thousands of people to benefit in a unique way.

My George Leonard encounter initiated two opportunities. The first was the opportunity to witness a live demonstration of aikido. From this sprung an appreciation for what Richard was up to, and the potential that he and his work could have for the world. By observing George and his co-demonstrator (Charlotte Hatch of Mill Valley, CA) work, it was clear to me that something much larger than a martial art was being played out. The organization I had been part of at that time was largely unaware of and, in my opinion, disinterested in the implications of what was then described as "a mind-body connection." Today, the world well knows of Richard's research and work, its form now being referred to as Somatic Coaching & Training. (Again - a reminder - order and read his book)

The second opportunity that the George Leonard encounter provided: it opened a door for me, a method if you will, of engaging others whereby I could (and still do) travel the world to give, explore and validate for myself what George (and Richard) had set out to communicate and accomplish.  What they were both up to then, and what Richard remains actively and sincerely committed to, was a powerfully peaceful, yet equally energetic, schooling in ways of being and action. This has purpose: accomplish constructive outcomes for individuals, communities, regions, nations and the world.

Viewed collectively, the approach that Richard and George took is vastly distinct and different from the motivational talking heads and quick-fix break-through seminar companies of then and now. Not that I want to fault those companies. After all, in many respects they help open human beings to the possibilities of having better futures.

George Leonard passed away four years ago. To this day his work and Richard's work remain distinct from these companies. Their work was NOT and is NOT about instant anything. Rather, they were and are about honest growth, deep study and prolonged practice for the long haul. Their work truly addresses the concerns and connections of physical, emotional, familial, organizational and global health and wellbeing.

It's now been twenty-nine years since I first met Richard, twenty-two since I first encountered George. The countries I've now traveled number seventeen. The nationalities assembled into meeting spaces I've worked now exceed 125 - people coming from all continents except Antarctica. Many of these people have gone on to work on themselves as well as recommend a sincere study in the work these two men have inspired.

So, for the sake clarity, disclosure and acknowledgement, I thought it wise to explain, give thanks and expand on the October and December articles so you would know.

Here are two requests. The first relates to The Samurai Game®, which I assume you know to be the above referenced vehicle provided me by George Leonard. The second is with respect to the work of Richard Strozzi-Heckler.

1. The Samurai Game®.

As of this month the simulation can now be legally produced and directed by almost 60 people scattered across fourteen countries. These facilitators have been trained and certified in the safe and ethical production of The Samurai Game® performances. My request: let folks know about it. It is available for individuals, teams, organizations and schools. Tell others how to find the information and the names of those persons authorized to produce it by visiting www.SamuraiGame.org. And, if you would like, come participate again. Its performance is always new ... fresh ... alive!

2. Richard Strozzi-Heckler, PhD., Founder of Strozzi Institute.

He and his organization continue to make a profound and constructive impact in the world - ranging from the individual level to a level that impacts geopolitics and peaceful resolution to real world conflict. Richard's work is soundly researched and grounded. It has withstood the scrutiny of academics and leaders upon whose words and works lives have hung in the balance.

In the world of effectiveness training there are thousands of people who refer to themselves as "trainers", "coaches" and "consultants". Some are sincere and quite good. Some are kind of OK. But many of them, in my opinion, don't deserve even a moment of consideration. Why would I say this? Because a lot of "coaches" have only taken time to memorize a few scripts and from there they have gone on to set up websites and enrollment tools. But they engage in no sincere life-long practice themselves. They do little or no self-integration, and some are not committed to sincere service. At best they could be described as "want-a-be". Sadly, some are world-class charlatans feeding off the needs of others solely for the purpose of satisfying a bank account or fame. Some have ripped off other people's work and called it their own. And, so that you know, some have ripped off George Leonard's simulation The Samurai Game®. The bulk of these folks don't study much. They practice even less. They are a sad and disappointing representation to what could otherwise have been a grand and honorable undertaking.

BUT - If you are interested in "the real deal" - in seeking self exploration and growth, in moving yourself and/or your organization (or in advising others who want to do so) onto a long-term path of practiced embodied learning and effectiveness for action, then at a minimum explore Richard Strozzi-Heckler, Ph.D., and his organization.

Richard is sincere. His standards are high. His work is exemplary.  

When I met him I thought, "What a masterful student of life this guy is!" What I've noticed over the years is that he remains that. And because he remains a masterful student, he has become a masterful teacher and leader.

Begin your research here.

Engage with him and Strozzi Institute here.

Do either and you will find something healthy, something satisfactory.

So - as a minimum - go to Amazon today and order The Art of Somatic Coaching, authored by The Man At The Sliding Wood Door.

© Lance Giroux, January 2014

Taxi Ride

 Three Russian soldier honor guard

Taxi Ride

A child that lives with ridicule learns to be timid.

A child that lives with criticism learns to condemn.

A Child that lives with distrust learns to be deceitful.

A child that lives with affection learns to love.

A child that lives with truth learns justice.

A child that lives with happiness will find love and beauty.

- Ronald Russell (Lessons From Life)

November 10^th and I hop into the back of a Moscow taxi. It's after 7pm, drizzly and cold. I'm exhilarated after a long weekend with sixty-five exuberant folks. I'm also tired.   Beside me sits Petr. He will replace Julia as translator later this week in Rostov-on-Don when I return there to complete this three-week Russian trip.

Petr and I met only a couple of hours ago. Our get together tonight is designed to give us time to acquaint with one another's speech patters enabling translations to go as seamlessly as possible in a few days when we'll serve a corporate group. Petr has been talking nonstop: martial arts; his abilities with sticks as weapons; his dark side street escapades of confrontation. He's curious about aikido as a way to foster peace.

As the cab door closes Petr opens up with an unexpected admission, "We have a real problem here in Russia with violence. Most of it doesn't make the news. We're in denial.   A lot of war veterans are having bad times.   They're into drugs and alcohol and hard violence." I ask, "Afghanistan?" "Yes."He continues, "PTSD [Post Traumatic Stress Disorder].   It's the same thing here in Russia as in the USA." An interesting conversation starts to unfold, made even more so given I haven't generated it or mentioned PTSD in any of our discussions. But, PTSD has been on my mind recently.

The three days immediately preceding this trip I attended the annual Aiki-Extensions Conference, this year hosted at Sofia University, Palo Alto, California. Of the many presentations, two grabbed my attention: Body Awareness in Trauma and Peace Making by Paul Linden, PhD, and Janice Taitel, MD; and Aikido as a Component in Holistic Therapy by Tom Osborn.   Both presentations addressed the PTSD needs facing individuals, families and communities. Both addressed the findings and constructive impact that these three practitioners have had integrating aikido into their efforts to address that need.

Paul and Janice outlined the impact that movement has had with their clients and patients, and demonstrated through audience participation how aikido was assisting efforts to un-anchor and reframe experiences held by those suffering from PTSD. Tom, now into his seventies, served with the 101^st Airborne Division. For twenty-four months he was on Special Forces A teams in Viet Nam. He outlined the impact of his work with aikido at Veterans Administration facilities - there to serve vets and staff. On my flight into Russia I read his book, Combat Related Post Traumatic Stress Disorder: A Holistic Approach. It is quite compelling.   I urge you to order a copy through Amazon.

The reason these presentations impacted me is because I know first-hand from George Leonard why The Samurai Game® was created - that being to deepen an understanding about the long-term impacts of war without having to actually succumb to the physical injury or death as a result. As a social philosopher George wanted people to consider questions like this, "Why does the human race keep doing war when we individually and collectively know what it always creates?"He wanted us to take this question personally to heart when it comes to our own personal "wars".

These presentations also impacted me because of the thirteen years that aikido has been a major part of my life. I have witnessed people, many of them otherwise and previously combative, transform themselves and their responses to conflict. The impact of the presentation also touched my formative years.

As a kid I lived in a home constantly on guard against what might happen if the wrong thing was said at the wrong time to my dad. I learned how to be hyper-vigilant, and how to anticipate responses in tense situations. In those days I didn't understand why my dad would flinch at the sound of a jet flying overhead. I couldn't understand why certain holidays triggered violent responses in him. But years of experience have deepened my understanding.

Tonight I'm sitting in this taxi and having a chat with Petr. Tomorrow is Veteran's Day back home. I'm a vet. My brother is a vet. My father and his brother were WWII vets. My brother-in-law is a vet. My nephew is a vet. His son, currently serving as a US Marine, just returned from a warzone. I was never in combat. But I know the stuff of PTSD and how it affects a family. PTSD is not limited to persons who have been in a military conflict or navigated their way through a war zone. It's more prevalent in our societies and having a greater impact in our economic policies, politics, and social and business environments than we think or that we want to admit.

Hoping to not be overly simplistic or appear foolish, I would offer many people (including you?) could relate to aspects (and possibly experiences) of PTSD if they will stop, think, feel and get in touch with their bodies.

Have you ever found yourself involved in confrontation or a dangerous situation where you felt your safety severely threatened? Afterwards, were you ever on guard against similar situations and/or physically triggered by environments reflective of the environment surrounding that prior threat? If you can honestly answer "yes", then you know what I mean.

When I was 12 years old and on a hunting trip, the jeep my dad was driving flipped over. It pinned my head to the ground. Luckily, my brother scrambled out in time to lift the jeep's back end off my body. My dad had a quick moment to pull me out before my brother set the jeep back down. Over the next few years whenever we would hunt near that place, I became nauseous and shaky. I would refuse to go on if we got too close to where we'd had the accident.

Tonight I shared with Petr that as America was heading into Afghanistan, a group of friends and I were asked what we might say to people high up in our military and national security apparatus who would have to carry out a Presidential order to undertake combat operations. We were asked to imagine that we would only have only a few seconds to give advice knowing that it wasn't a matter of "if we go in", rather "when we go in." This question came from someone who was about to attend a meeting of top officials actually confronting that situation in reality. I recall saying, "Tell them to talk to the Russians before they go." Why was that my response? Because the Soviet incursion into Afghanistan quite literally broke the USSR's economic back and shattered their national psyche.

The taxi is long gone and so is Petr. He spoke his "спокойной ночи." In a few days he will be with me in Rostov-on-Don to serve as a translator. Back in the hotel I've spent time sending thank you notes to family and buddies back home who have served in the military.   Among them is Al Takata. Like Tom Osborn, Al was with the Special Forces in Viet Nam. He left the Army a highly decorated lieutenant colonel, and carried with him many deep secrets. He's a great guy, and today a man of love and forgiveness.

An email pops into my mailbox as I head to bed. It's from Al, returning thanks for my having served in the Army. In closing he writes these unexpected, yet gracious words, "The Samurai Game brought me back from Viet Nam and was the factor that made me realize that I was suffering from PTSD. Without that awareness I could not begin my healing. Today I am 99% well. Love, Al."

Halfway around the world Al Takata has no knowledge of the specifics I've lived through these days in Russia, or of the Aiki-Extension Conference attended a few weeks ago in Palo Alto, or of the conversation and topic discussed this evening in a taxi with a young man named Petr.

It's past midnight in Moscow. What time is it in America?

You who are on the road

Must have a code that you can live by

And so become yourself

Because the past is just a good bye.

Teach your children well,

Their father's hell did slowly go by,

And feed them on your dreams

The one they picked, the one you'll know by.

-        Crosby Stills Nash Young (Teach Your Children)

© Lance Giroux, November 2013

The Game and The Art Part 1 (continued)

Part 1 is first in a series of Ronin Post articles dedicated to The Samurai Game® and to the man, George Leonard, who created it; and to Aikido, the martial art that directly influenced his later years.

Uriel Trujillo and his East Stroudsburg University www.esu.edu UPWARD BOUND students were the immediate inspiration for these articles. On July16, 2012 we were vistited by two television news crews there to capture what we were up to. To view what was aired that evening in eastern Pennsylvania on regional and local TV hit these links and ENJOY!

Regional Channel 69 news- View Video Here 

Local Channel 28 news- View Video Here 

 

INTRODUCTION

In 1977 George Leonard invented the Samurai Game®. How he did that will be addressed later. For now what's important is that he ended his first delivery with a powerful and timeless social/psychological inquiry: Why do human beings continue to engage in and practice war as a means to resolving conflict? Given we know that for as far back as we can look into history war (the most intense form of conflict on our planet) always results in massive destruction, complete ruination of economies, severe emotional and psychological damage to generation upon generation - why do human beings keep practicing it again and again and again?   We're smart, aren't we? We know for a fact what war always results in. People all over the earth proclaim themselves to be peace lovers. So why do we, the most intelligent species on this planet, keep doing this?

--- continuing from August 2012 issue of The Ronin Post ---

George Leonard was a combatant in two major wars. He well understood the need for nations and peoples to protect themselves. Throughout the nineteen years that we knew each other, including at our last meetings in late 2009 just prior to his death, the dilemma of war occupied the foreground of our thought and discussions: What is needed such that individuals and countries can stand strong, yet be willing and able to deeply listen to others no matter who they are such that harmony can prevail? What fosters understanding? Can new paths be taken for combined peaceful futures?

Part of his answer is found in something he wrote a short one page piece "Toward A More Vivid Peace". [request copy via email here info@AlliedRonin.com] George knew war from the inside: its sights, smells, sounds, energy and taste. He was shaped by experience to look for better ways and to encourage others to actively do likewise.This fueled his notion to create a Game wherein the players would take on the role of samurai, engage in an intense competition through which they might uncover the seeds of peace - yet all the while knowing that samurai were considered to be some history's fiercest warrior examples.

A provocative undertaking. But why? His reasons were (and remain) at a minimum three:

* to beg the above big questions,

* to confront individuals and groups with their personal and individual habits that foster fighting when a different practice could create solution and/or resolution, and

* to promote strong peaceful long-term practices for healthy living.

By considering the above ourselves we can all begin to delve into our own exploration of the WHY of The Samurai Game®.

For some war is an abstract - men and women of sinew racing through jungles or across deserts or down snowy slopes. It becomes the stuff of TV or talk show radio, or ball game and bar room blathering. It's found on big screen and in Netflix cinema. Whether romantic, grotesque, promoting bravado and idealism (e.g. Act of Valor), or illuminating the deep costs and trauma of combat (e.g. Restrepo and The Hurt Locker and Joyeux Noel) - we dig into our wallets to watch and in some interesting way, be entertained. But shrink war down a bit from its global or regional arenas to its smaller neighborhood and household areas of operation and it becomes something personal, more real for those of us who have never stepped into a combat zone.

The smaller wars: senseless bickering in boardrooms; sibling rivalries lasting well into adulthood; arguments over who is right and who is wrong based on skin color or ethnicity or religious affiliation (or non-affiliation) or family heritage; forced policies driven by antiquated perspectives that will not yield to sanity, meaning that the practitioner ought step back a bit to look and listen. These also are wars, aren't they? Wars that undermine mom and pop shops, market places, churches supposedly housing spiritual roots of the planet's varied religions. Wars of health care practitioners and insurance companies. Wars of lawyers and political parties scraping to control the economic turf and narrow thinking that goes along with the incessant need to acquire more and more - at all costs.

Yes, these too are wars. And as with their larger cousins they bring vibrant states and nations to their knees. Wars could be avoided if our daily living could anchor to the vividness of peace with the same intensity that it anchors to the juice of conflict. But this re-anchoring would take shifts of awareness and consciousness coupled with repeated acts of individual courage - thus forming new practices - and this could generate constructive living.

Today, in 2012, our nation's internal conflicts are front and center. We are engaged in a great national debate. It's good we debate; free speech is important. We are gearing up to an election.   This too is good; we can still freely elect. But our debate is not being conducted or held as ...

(to be continued in The Ronin Post, October 2012)

© Lance Giroux, 201

The Game and The Art

   

Part 1 is first in a series of Ronin Post articles dedicated to The Samurai Game® and to the man, George Leonard, who created it; and to Aikido, the martial art that directly influenced him during the later years of his life.

Participants Upward Bound

The call came last February from Uriel Trujillo of East Stroudsburg University (ESU - Pennsylvania). His request - delivery of The Samurai Game®. The attendees would be high school age at-risk youth enrolled in UPWARD BOUND, the program he directs for ESU. I agreed and offered to include two additional days involving aikido, in this case adapted for that age group and to be called "The Art of Practice and the ESU dojo". It wasn't until July that I appreciated what Uriel had done to make this available. I began to get answers to the why of his February request. The potential impact of both the Game and the aikido-based program become more clear. By the afternoon of July 17^th students, parents, faculty, staff, university officials and Uriel had all been touched. Regional TV reporters showed up to catch the story- to view click here.

Privately, when all had gone back to their dorms, Uriel asked how I was feeling. "There have been a few days in my life," I said, "when I've fallen in love with the entire world. Today was one."

Uriel's February call outlined a definite need. "These students are on track to be the first in their families to attend college. Being at-risk youth means that most come from financially disadvantaged and/or broken homes. Many live in the midst of familial or neighborhood disturbance and trauma. A broad spectrum of ethnicities and beliefs are involved. They represent grades 9 through 12. What you bring can help them stay on track, deal with issues of peer and family pressure, plus overall appreciation of principles needed for healthy relationships and principles for life success - dignity, courage, honor, etc."

Only a third of my fee for the Game could be covered. I told him this wasn't a problem. His surprising, "Really, why!?" - prompted my, "Because, it seems like the right thing to do." "OK," he said, "but I'll try to get additional funding so you can bring the aikido work too."

Over the next few weeks Uriel worked on financing issues. A martial artist himself, he knows the value this kind of metaphor brings to people, provided proper interpretations are made. Meanwhile, I sought help from two acquaintances, Carmela Bennett and Tesfaye Tekelu, explaining the potential difference to be made. Both are black belt ranked aikidoka, and both live in New York City just 90 minutes from the ESU campus. Carmela had recently received her doctorate in education. Her thesis addresses the impact that somatics has in the teaching/learning process. Tesfaye, a young Ethiopian, had founded the Awassa Peace Dojo in his home country, thus opening the horn of Africa to aikido. Because of him some 500 youth have been introduced to the art and opening the door for thousands of people to approach conflict resolution through non-violent means.

Calls and coordination continued. A few months into the process Uriel connected with, "Sorry, no funding for the aikido work. We can only fund the Game." I told him I understood, but offered: "let's do it anyway." He: "What? Really! Why?" Me: "Because we'd be insane to pass up the opportunity. If we don't do it now we'll have to wait a year or two longer. Then what?   We'll just be in the same place that we are today."

The days July 12-13 and 16-17 at ESU with sixty-some UPWARD BOUND students got to me, and it also got to the staff, the university officials and Carmella and Tesfaye. With this came a broader understanding of and possibility for UPWARD BOUND. ESU's program is just one of 900 scattered across the US, all housed on college campuses.   If similar results can spread elsewhere then the potential impact will touch hundreds of thousands of people.   Everyone involved these past months had his or her own reasons and needs for wanting this to happen. Those reasons were addressed and the needs were filled. A few weeks after the program was complete I was having supper at Dempsey's, a favorite hangout back home in Petaluma, California. My son, Alex, plus three black belt aikidoka from the dojo where I train joined me.   All had played the Samurai Game® at some time. We talked about Uriel, his students and the resulting delivery. Someone at the table offered, "There's an important book to be written here, not just this most recent thing, but about the Game itself, what it is and what's transpired over the years because of it."

So the next series of Ronin Post articles will take a step in that direction.

What is the Samurai Game®? Where did it come from? What are its objectives and how does it accomplish these? Who is it for and who has used it? What impact does it have for individuals, teams, schools, universities and organizations that engage in it? Who can produce and lead it, and what is involved with that? A myriad of questions need to be answered.

But the question to start with is WHY? Why the Game?

Years ago one of my mentors offered that the question 'Why?' always influences and provides insight into: 'Who?', 'What?', 'How?', 'Where?', etc. He contended that those who deeply understand why will always lead those who know what and/or how. Good consultants know that the first step in getting an organization back on track is to ask the founder, "Why did you start this thing (business, nonprofit, law firm, etc.) in the first place?"

In 1977 George Leonard invented the Samurai Game®. How he did that will be addressed at a later time. But for now what's important is that he ended his first delivery with a powerful and timeless social/psychological inquiry: Why do human beings continue to engage in and practice war as a means to resolving conflict? Given we know that for as far back as we can look into history war (the most intense form of conflict on our planet) always results in massive destruction, complete ruination of economies, severe emotional and psychological damage to generation upon generation - why do human beings keep practicing it again and again and again?   We're smart, aren't we? We know for a fact what war always results in. People all over the earth proclaim themselves to be peace lovers. So why do we, the most intelligent species on this planet, keep doing this?

(to be continued in The Ronin Post, September 2012)

© Lance Giroux, 2012

Nidan (Part II)

On May 1, 2000, I stepped onto an aikido mat for the first time. Some years later I began including aikido demonstrations and simple exercises into training programs for businesses and universities, and started bringing in qualified aikido practitioners and teachers to assist delivery. Why? Some of my clients had been requesting the Samurai Game®, but were asking for it to be delivered outside of design parameters. Their groups were either too small or too large, or they wanted delivery completed in less than the required time, or the situation was not appropriate for the Game. As a result The Art of Practice and the Organizational Dojo™ (AOPOD) was created.

This past June I separated my right shoulder days before my initially scheduled nidan (2^nd degree black belt) exam. The test was postponed until December 1^st. California Aikido Association rules require that an essay accompany the challenge. Last month's issue of The Ronin Post contained the first half of that essay, "On the Eve of Nidan". The remainder follows. It chronicles reflections I had on November 30^th, the day before the test. Aikido principles are transferable to personal and professional effectiveness for daily life outside the dojo and off the mat. The following principles and terms most occupied my period of reflection:

* Ai - Ki - Do = Harmony - Energy - Way, i.e. the way of harmonious energy

* Irimi = to enter into a situation

* Tenkan = to turn and look at a situation from the opposite direction

* Zanshien = the maintaining of a connection with all that is around you

* Onegai shimasu = a greeting or offer made to assist another learning

* Sensei = teacher

* Randori = being under multiple attack (i.e., all hell breaks loose)

* Kyu = any aikido rank below the rank of black belt, with 5^th Kyu being lowest and 1^st Kyu being highest

* Katate dore, irimi nage, kaiten nage, and kata dore = names of various techniques

* Uke = the "attacker" in a paired partner aikido training situation

* Gi = martial art training uniform

* Hara = body center point, about two inches below the navel

* Seiza = a formal way of sitting on one's knees

* Aikidoka = those who practice and study aikido

November 30, 2011

On The Eve of Nidan

Reflecting back to January 10, 1997. Mid-afternoon.

I am sitting legs sprawled, on Capitola Beach south of Santa Cruz. The sunlight is striking my face, as is a brisk sea breeze. The wet sand soaks through my trousers and puddles of water surround me. The tide is coming in. An hour ago my friend, John Gallagher, and I were walking over boulders and I slipped and fell. A horrible pain shot up and down the left side of my body. I heard my left femur split. John turned to ask, "Are you OK?" In hopeful denial I replied, "I think I've dislocated my hip." Broken the hip was, but broken I didn't want it to be.

John has gone to fetch help, leaving me alone. Down the stretch of beach a disheveled man with dreadlocks is ambling towards me. As he approaches I tense. I am helpless. Easy prey. Two things have kept me conscious the past half hour: deep breathing, and my incessant humming "Think of Me", a song from Phantom of the Opera. The man now stands over me. "Are you OK?" I respond," No, I'm not. I think my left hip is broken." He then acts differently than my fear has guarded me tense against. He extends an offer and asks, "Is there anything I can do to help you?" I accept his offer, "Can you hold my hand and help keep me from passing out?" He reaches out and we begin to talk. A little while later the police and paramedics arrive. My helper (training partner?) vanishes.

The paramedics assess the situation. They say the only way to safely get me off the beach is: first, carry me directly into the on-coming waves and beyond the boulders; second, move sideways parallel to both waves and beach; and third, turn and walk directly with the flow of the waves back toward to the beach. It's a painful journey full of twists, turns, bumps, jolts, laughter, screams, but it works. We get to where we're going. The next morning a surgeon skillfully aligns and joins together my split femur, wraps it with wire, screws a plate to it and then bolts the whole contraption into my hip. I live five days in a hospital and go home.

Three years later Richard (by now I'm calling him "sensei") introduces me to strange words which unfold into profound ideas: "uke" - a would-be attacker who ultimately becomes an ally to a life of growth (my stranger with the ragged hair); "onegai shimasu" - an offer made and replied to by training partners ("Is there anything I can do to help you?" "You can hold my hand"); "randori" - when we find ourselves in the midst of forces (waves and incoming tide) beyond our control, "aiki" when we blend with those forces; "get off the line" when we allow those forces to have their way, yet we remain in connection with our own needs and sensibilities and core values. Paramedics, I discover, know the importance of "irimi", and "get off the line", and "tenkan". And they get it that life is randori.

On a January day fifteen years ago, I sat broken and helpless on a beach, and was carried to an ambulance and was then pieced back together. I didn't think of that episode when it happened in the ways just described above - but I do now.

Reflecting back to May 1, 2000.

About a year or so ago I started bringing my younger two sons to Richard's dojo. He invited me to come here in the evenings to find refuge. The futon in the back is my perch from which I watch his classes. My sons snuggle and sleep on my lap. It's a peaceful place, yet filled with swirling energy and falling bodies. I like it here. Outside this building mine is a world of anger, disgust, judgment and disillusion - the residue of my second divorce.

Tonight, on May Day, I put on a gi and take my first official step onto the mat. I come face-to-face with a truth about me: I put ten units of effort into achieving one unit of result. How do I know? Within five minutes I am sweating and exhausted. No one else around me will break a sweat for another half hour, and some wont' even sweat at all.

Over the next few months it becomes clear (not because anyone tells me) that the anger, disgust, judgment and disillusion is a world I carry within. Who tells me so? I hear it in the same voice that told me three years ago to distrust a vagabond walking towards me on Capitola Beach. I've noticed that Richard Sensei has been weaving a discourse regarding life learning outside the dojo. He speaks of it as "to embody an ability to relax under increasing amounts of pressure." I begin to realize that in all the years we have been friends, he has never defined effectiveness as mastering ways to avoid life's pressures and problems. He's only spoken of effectiveness as an ability to enter well into conflict.

I didn't think of my life struggles that way on May 1^st, 2000 - but I do now.

Reflecting back to June 2001. The day arrives for my 5^th Kyu exam.

My youngest son is here to watch. He's a 10 year-old forth-grader and he has only just now learned to read. For him school is an exasperating and frustrating place. He knows of my education and he is aware of how smart his older brother is. Within him is a world of self-judgment and comparison is held. Himself vs. me. Himself vs. his brother.

During tonight's 5^th Kyu exam I find it difficult to remember the meaning of certain Japanese aikido terms. My front rolls look like falling timber. There are moments when I freeze. My back rolls look like tumbling cardboard boxes. Richard Sensei has to call out some techniques using English words. When my short span on the mat is complete I find myself in the midst of personal judgment and comparison - me vs. other aikidoka. But sensei declares with a grin, "You passed." Later that night as I tuck Alex into bed I'm curious to know his thoughts of my test. "Wow, Dad," he says, "You did great!" I reply, "Well thanks. But I barely got a D." From that day Alex begins to see his father and himself differently. Coming to my Fifth Kyu exam is part of a foundation from which, ten years later, he will stand and walk taller as a man. Though he's never stepped onto the aikido mat himself, a seed is planted that night from which he and I will appreciate each other and ourselves differently.

In 2001, I didn't think of a 5^th Kyu exam in this way when I stepped out onto the mat that night - but I do now.

Tonight - November 30, 2011. On the eve of Nidan.

Tomorrow is my exam; but it's also just another training day. Every day is a training day. Something uncertain happens. Every day is the test. No matter who one is, or what one does, or where one lives. What will I learn? I'm not sure. But I trust that my practice will be zanshien, so that I can learn from life's sensei - teachers that live in everything around me. I trust that I will irimi so that I can tenkan. I trust I will keep my base. I trust that I will move from my center, my core values, my true hara, and that when and if I don't that I will return to my center very soon. I trust that I will love life's ukes, in whatever form they take because through them what is (and will be) here for me to learn from will be revealed.

I may see things differently in the future than I do now. And I hope and trust I will.

© Lance Giroux, January 2012