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

The Student

I had no idea that Papi Conpelo was a film buff.

He lived in the desert. We often met over campfires.

He boiled coffee in a metal pot and drank it out of a metal cup.

He wore grimy jeans and a floppy hat, and repaired his own boots.

One April morning he asked me to go fishing on Gila River so we could talk.

Around noon a male quail bird, breast out and top notch high,

perched himself on a nearby saguaro cactus to call his covey

across a dirt road to safety.

Always an alert student and able to view the world around him as offering

 lessons of life, Papi shushed me. Then he leaned over and

whispered the strangest thing.

"Hey, remember those movies about Star Wars?"

"Yea," I whispered back, watching the quail dart across an open space.

"What killed Darth Vader?" he asked.

"Huh?"

-from the Life and Times of Papi Conpelo

I walk into the Aqus Café not knowing exactly how to articulate and write what is churning and burning inside me. I glance left. There sits Peter Welker www.peterwelker.com. He was the subject of "Friends" published in my April 2007 newsletter - see http://www.alliedronin.blogspot.com/2007/04/friends.html

 Peter Welker, world-class musician. He and his trumpet, cornet and flugelhorn have graced albums and gigs with the likes of Huey Lewis, Carlos Santana, Natalie Cole, Al Jarreau, The Four Tops, Van Morrison, Boz Scaggs, The Temptations. And that hardly begins his list of colleagues.

Peter Welker, chess player - not world class, but certainly expert class - which means he's pretty damn good. We play each other periodically, and for over a decade he's been kicking my butt.

Peter Welker, fun guy and friend; sincere about his beliefs regarding life, family, relationship and politics. He's the only person who introduces me to his other friends as "a cool cat." We don't see eye-to-eye about some things, but so what? We appreciate each other's sincerity and company. Our discussions are dialogues. We talk about deep stuff so as to understand each other and the world going on around us. We don't insist on a change of viewpoint. Ours is a friendship, not a viewpoint-ship.

At chess, Peter is much better than I. Every game is a lesson. I'm getting better; finally making him sweat over the board. But as for keeping score after ten years, it's Lance 1 - Peter Welker everything else.

Peter is one of my teachers. He didn't ask for that job, and I didn't ask him if he wanted it. In fact, the decision wasn't his to agree to. I made it that way without his knowledge and without his permission. How come? Because he's always a student. I study the student that he is, as well as what he does to attain and expand his level of mastery.

Everybody has some level of mastery at something. What's yours? Who are you studying? Who's studying you? Who are you watching? Who's watching you? Do you know? Is it constructive? Are you certain?

Peter's competencies at chess reflect his mastery of the horn. Both sit on a foundation that, in addition to always being a student, includes the following:
(1)He encourages and helps others in their learning, and often just for the sake of their learning and development.
(2)He understands and accepts that the objective of his own learning and development often involves enriching the world more than enriching his own pocket book.
(3)He is always engaged in a practice.

Yesterday we played three games of chess at a local café. As we wrapped up our third game another fellow - a truly eccentric type who (no kidding) wears a plastic Viking helmet when playing chess - came walking in to watch and asked Peter if he could play him next. I sat and watched their games. When they finished, Peter lost all but one which ended in a draw.

Some time ago Peter contacted his chess cronies from around town for a get together at his home to play a few hours, and he invited me. "Why are you asking me?" I wondered aloud. "Heyman, you're good. You'll fit right in." I shook my head, because all the other invitees also hold "expert" level, all except for one who is a for-real chess master.   "OK," I laughed, "I'll come and be the day's cannon fodder." He grinned, "Trust me. You'll be OK."

So in preparation for the gathering I invited myself over to his house a few days early. This way we could play and talk without distractions, and work on my game. While we were at it he turned on his satellite radio to a jazz station for background music. In the midst of one game his eyes closed and he began mentally groovin' and physically movin' to the tunes. Then he got up, walked over to the speakers (I pondered the predicament he had me in), sat down to his piano (I didn't know he could play that too) to accompany the artists streaming in from outer space.

(I know the joke is cliché - and you know it's coming - but I have to repeat it. Guy on street in Manhattan hails cab driver to ask how to get to Carnegie Hall. The cabbie answers, "Practice." For some people the previous twenty words are a worn out joke. But to one of the top cornet players in the world, who is also a not-to-shabby chess player, the last word of those twenty words is a way of life - actually, it's THE way of life.")

Back to today. I walk into the Aqus Café and not knowing exactly how to articulate and write what is burning inside me, I glance to my left. There sits Peter Welker scribbling away. So I sit next to him. Now each of us is working on something we apparently need to express. But our methods and tools differ. I use a computer and type alphabet into strings of words on a plasma screen. He uses a pencil with an eraser and jots musical notes and symbols into strings of chords and shrills and tempos on paper score sheets strewn across a table. Hopefully we'll both communicate what we're studying. Hopefully we'll communicate something that matters. Hopefully someone will listen.

What are you studying?   What are you practicing?
Is it constructive?   Are you certain?

"Papi, what are you talking about?"

"What killed Darth Vader?"he repeated.

 "Papi, it wasn't what, it was who,"

 "Nope," he continued in a low voice.

" It's never the who that does the killing. It's the what.

And in Vader'scase, it was arrogance. He stopped being a student."

-from the Life and Times of Papi Conpelo

© Lance Giroux, May 2012

The Interview And The Sherfu

We might hypothetically possess ourselves

of every technological resource on the North American

continent, but as long as our language is inadequate,

our vision remains formless, our thinking and feeling

are still running in the old cycles, our process may be

“revolutionary” but not transformative.

-Adrienne Rich-

March 2012. The Interview. Napa, California.

I’m sitting in a small coffee shop. Nearby, a young man is completing a job interview. The interviewer just complimented him on how he has shown up. He’s on the team! Now, the interviewee asks the interviewer how he got started in this work. “Well,” the reply begins, “I attended a men’s seminar years ago, conducted by a nationally recognized group and based on Robert Bly’s book Iron John. It examined the shadow side of a man’s development. When I was done with that weekend I decided to copy as much of it as possible. That’s the way things work in this industry – we find things, borrow them, and make them our own to use.”

I cringe and shake my head. Years ago I worked for a company that operated much in the same way. Some time after leaving that organization I attended the seminar that this man has apparently just referenced. Bly’s book was the text. The men who crafted the course were an integral group. Their work was well thought through, intense, respectful, deep and profound. The course leaders and their staff had all undergone rigorous training that demanded they hold attendees’ well being in the highest regard. Moreover, we who partook knew to never “borrow” what that organization had designed. This was not ours to run off afterwards and produce on our own. Not only would that undermine our own integrity, it would be unsafe. This young job seeker has just stepped from what could be a “study” and into what has become, as the interviewer has aptly stated, an “industry”.

The revelation reflects a problem plaguing our world and many (but not all) groups engaged in the work of the human potential. As far as I am concerned the ones to avoid are those that seek to “McDonald-ize” – creating get rich/smart/enlightened quick programs – yet calling their work “transformative” in nature. Sadly, rarely is their behavior “transformative” in practice. Rather the approach goes something like this: (1) find a training recipe with just the right sizzle so that it is attractive to the masses; (2) create a marketing machine that delivers students at the flip of a switch, i.e. good sales pitch; (3) put the students through a series of cathartic processes; (4) define the resultant release of energy that accompanies catharsis as “a breakthrough”; (5) condition the students (now repeat customers) to seek future catharsis (i.e. breakthroughs) through a continuing stream of advanced level seminars; and (6) actively use those students as unpaid sales agents to promote their “product” by encouraging a belief that “life is really all about enrollment” and that if the student does not participate in feeding the promotional system it means he or she lacks in understanding - particularly regarding the concept of loyalty.

Stop. Think. Is life really all about enrollment? Are the organizational leaders engaged in their own rigor of personal learning? Do they have mindful practices that include physical embodiment of the philosophies they espouse? Do their courses accordingly encourage, provide for and promote embodied practices within which the individuals can continue in their own way to self develop and unfold as human beings?

Do some homework and research. Pick up a dictionary. At the very least visit Wikipedia, and enter “transformative learning”. Here you will quickly find the following http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transformative_learning -–

The role of the learner

The educator becomes a facilitator when the goal of learning is for learners to construct knowledge about themselves, others, and social norms. As a result, learners play an important role in the learning environment and process. Learners must create norms within the classroom that include civility, respect, and responsibility for helping one another learn. Learners must welcome diversity within the learning environment and aim for peer collaboration.

Learners must become critical of their own assumptions in order to transform their unquestioned frame of reference. Through communicative learning, learners must work towards critically reflecting assumptions that underlie intentions, values, beliefs, and feelings. Learners are involved in objective reframing of their frames of reference when they critically reflect on the assumptions of others. In contrast, subjective reframing occurs when learners critically assess their own assumptions.

The role of the learner involves actively participating in discourse. Through discourse, learners are able to validate what is being communicated to them. This dialogue provides the opportunity to critically examine evidence, arguments, and alternate points of view which fosters collaborative learning.

The role of professional development for the educator

Transformative learning about teaching occurs when educators critically examine their practice and develop alternative perspectives of understanding their practice. It is essential that this becomes the role of professional development. With this taken into consideration, the role of professional development is to assist educators in bringing awareness to their habit of minds regarding teaching. When this occurs, educators critically examine the assumptions that underlie their practice, the consequences to their assumptions, and develop alternative perspectives on their practice.

Be clear: there is nothing wrong with educational systems (including some of those engaged with the human potential) that move people from basic lessons, through intermediate steps and on to more advance stuff. We all know the models. Kindergarten to elementary school to high school, etc. Ground school to visual flight training to instrument-only flight training to airline pilot school, etc. Healthy educational processes exist for the purpose of serving learners and the learners’ constructive futures, the world into which they are moving, and the lives they now and will some day touch. Healthy educational programs must be led and conducted by people who simultaneously are on their own path of self-examination and learning, i.e. teachers must always engage in the rigor of being students themselves – willing to self-examine right along side those who seek their services. Healthy educational models are not closed loop systems instituted for the purpose of developing learner dependency. Healthy educational systems do not dedicate themselves to creating never-ending needs on the part of the learner to seek only those viewpoints that the system espouses in order to keep marketing and sales machinery alive.

As I sit here, an imaginary (and somewhat critical and cynical) Ian Malcolm appears in the coffee shop and plops next to me. He looks to the adjacent table, then back at me and continues his admonishment found on pages 305 – 307 of Michael Crichton’s Jurassic Park.

Will you listen to this guy over here! He’s selling a program about which he knows almost nothing at all. And his soon-to-be assistant has no clue that he is about to get involved with something that has been slapped together in very short order without much learning. Our interviewer has forgotten about, or doesn’t care about, how little he knows and what his competencies really are not. He believes that what is in front of him is simple. He doesn’t know a thing about why Michael Crichton created my character as a way to remind people that most kinds of power require a substantial sacrifice by whoever wants it. He overlooks the years of apprenticeship and discipline needed. He lives and believes in a get rich quick world. His toys - laptop, mobile phones, search engines, and instant bill pay – have become his tools of trade. And because he can source information very quickly he has convinced himself that he has the right to have and to use whatever is available at his fingertips.

All he has to do is write a check or lay down a credit card to attend someone else’s class, and bingo - he’s an instant guru. And because he has memorized a few words and moves, he fashions himself a leader or teacher or master or boss. Whatever! He mistakenly thinks this stuff is for sale and can be purchased. He has no appreciation for a life of discipline, self-examination and practice.

I’ll bet he does paint-by-numbers and calls himself an artist. He probably buys a new car every other year, and when he flips on his Sirius satellite radio he honestly considers himself a musician.

My imagined Ian Malcolm stands and disappears to return to his fictional world and I am left sitting alone again in the coffee shop. A particular poignant scene from the film Amazing Grace comes to mind. William Wilberforce, the man who eventually led Britain out of the slave industry, sits in his garden, wrestling with mid-life crisis. There he is joined by his butler, who for a few moments quotes Francis Bacon with the hope of helping Wilberforce through his dilemma: “It is a sad fate for a man to die too well known to everyone else, and still unknown to himself.” The butler then grins and admits, “I don’t just dust your books, sir.”

Over my shoulder the interview is wrapping up. I wonder if the man conducting the interview is walking a path into his own sad fate? Is an unaware interviewee about to join him on the trek?

I imagine a conversation might accompany and finalize such business dealings.

Question: And, the end game – what then?

Answer: Franchise our model, of course! Then retire and play golf, but don’t forget to check the quarterly balance sheets.

Question: What about the end users?

Answer: They’re not our problem. They’re just units. Remember, this IS a business.

March 2009. The Sherfu. Yi Lan County - the northeast side of Taiwan.

I had the good fortune to travel here and stay a few days. My temporary home is an apartment midst miles of rice fields. My bed is a two-inch thick tatami mattress on the wooden floor. My visit comes at the request of a woman who has asked me to deliver the Samurai Game® for her students. From that day to this day I know her only as Sherfu – meaning “teacher”. In my lifetime, including the three years since our first encounter, I have never met nor engaged with a more mindful, focused, peaceful or serene human being as she. (http://alliedronin.blogspot.com/2009/03/march-15th-2009.html).

Sherfu. Buddhist nun. Known throughout Taiwan. She travels this island nation west to east and from Taipei to Kao-hsiung helping people solve problems of communication and relationship. Her school is small, as is her temple; but her students and followers number possibly into the thousands.

Sherfu’s classes are dedicated to teaching meditation, calligraphy, flower arranging and tea ceremony. These arts she practices. They are her study and her path. At these she is personally masterful. But what people learn as a result is so much more than the skills involved. Her true work is that of being a problem solver beyond the walls of her school. She sleeps very little.

“Why do you want the Samurai Game?” I asked on the day we first met. Her reply, “The people are too dependent on me. They need to stand up on their own and solve their own problems. I’m a simple woman. What you are bringing will help me and them with that.”

“I have some personal concerns,” I say.

“About what?” she asks.

“Well, people know you to be a holy woman, a woman of peace. Sometimes I get moody and resentful. I’ve been married and divorced. You are asking your students to be my students for a while, and you are telling me that you also are going to be one my students. I’m worried about this.”

Sherfu smiles. So do the three nuns who sit with us and our translator. She reaches across the table and touches my hand, smiles again and says, “I was once married. And like you, I am now divorced. Don’t worry so much.”

How do people come to her school? I don’t know. Her focus is service, not sales; giving, not getting or taking; practice, not intellectualizing or lecturing about the newest fad or theory that she’s just come across through someone else’s lecture or Powerpoint or that she found in some article in Psychology Today magazine. She does not get wrapped up in deal making. She inquires. She listens. She speaks. She studies. She practices. At 5:00 a.m. every morning her meditation begins and lasts an hour. After that she breakfasts and starts helping people – in person and by phone. This goes on all day. Some time after midnight she goes to sleep. And then, at 5:00 a.m. she begins again.

Sherfu. She does not look to find what someone else is doing so that she can slick it up, re-brand and market it. She invests in serving life. She has not created a business. But she definitely has business to do.

Today, as I write these words, I imagine Sherfu ending an interview with someone who seeks to engage or work with her.

Question: And the end game – what then, Sherfu?

Answer: What do you mean, end game? I don’t understand what this means.

Question: OK then, what about the end-users?

Answer: There are no end-users. All human beings, including myself, are users and we are all servants. But if you mean what of the people I serve? They are my teachers. I am fortunate, because they come and go, and sometimes they come back. They are always welcome to do either. I will be learning from them about myself for the rest of my life.

© Lance Giroux, April 2012

From My Neck of the Woods TO Your Neck of the Woods.

Often the The Ronin Post articles are long. But for this month, we’ll keep things short.

First. Spotlighting two Allied Ronin Associates - Madeline Wade www.MadelineWade.com and Susan Hammond www.EaseIntoAwareness.com. Madeline, a Master Somatic Coach, has years of training and work with Richard Strozzi-Heckler, Ph.D. Susan is a Feldenkrais Method® practitioner with extensive experience. She too sports a Strozzi-Heckler connection. She holds third degree black belt in aikido and we train together at Richard’s dojo. Madeline and Susan have added greatly to the past success of the Allied Ronin Leaders’ Retreat. Susan is also instrumental in the delivery of The Art of Practice & the Organizational Dojo™ (AOPOD). In January we traveled to Wenzhou, China, and delivered the program there. On March 14^th we will conduct our third annual offering of AOPOD to Environmental Chemical Corporation’s leadership conference hosted for their executives, managers and engineers coming in from around the world.

I strongly encourage you to sign up to receive Madeliine’s and Susan’s monthly newsletters. How? Visit their websites and sign up. Through both newsletters you will find practical techniques and insights on how to keep yourself on track. Both will help you move through life (including physically) with less stress and less pain. You can’t lose with Madeline and Susan. Your body, your mind and your spirit will thank you. Plus, if you are in search of a good life coach, someone who will be spot on and connect beyond a cookie-cutter approach that (sadly) the coaching industry is fast becoming known for – then contact Madeline and see if she has space available on her schedule for you.

Second. The Allied Ronin Leaders’ Retreat. YES, there will definitely be more in the future - most likely shifting to a Spring & Fall schedule rather than winter & summer.

The Leaders’ Retreat has been off my menu since last year because the lodge at Four Springs Retreat Center (our desired venue) burned to the ground in May. Four Springs and its director, Tim Locke, have gone a long way to support the Leaders’ Retreat to make it something special and unique over the years. I want to retain the venue whenever possible.

Dr. Derick Tagawa, a past and frequent Leaders’ Retreat attendee, once described the Retreat as follows: “The Japanese have a word which summarizes all the best in life, yet has no explanation and cannot be translated. It is the word shibui. A person is said to be shibui when he or she contributes to the overall success of others without doing anything to make him/herself stand out individually. The Allied Ronin Leaders’ Retreat is VERY shibui!”

Third. I just returned from spending five days in the forest lands of the Pacific Northwest. There I had the opportunity to connect with some great folks. At the end of the trip I went fishing. Alas, the only bite to be had on the Skoocumchuck River was the one I took from my sandwich. That’s why it’s called “fishing” and not “catching”!

Two Cranes Institute www.TwoCranesInstitute.org was first on my list of visits. I had a wonderful meeting with the institute’s founder, Kimberly Richardson. Kimberly is keen for

the Samurai Game® to be offered in support their outreach to businesses, universities, and individuals in the greater Seattle region. It looks like this may materialize in September. Nothing yet guaranteed – but Stay Tuned!

BJ’s Enterprises was the second visit. BJ’s is the company that put legs under Allied Ronin back in 1995. They have repeatedly used our programs for their entire employee base. I’m forever grateful to Bertha Jane (BJ) Turnipseed and her family. Because of her and her staff, hundreds of people focus on and daily practice great customer service. Thousands of people receive that service, and they acknowledge that. Eighteen months ago BJ spoke on behalf of Allied Ronin. Her voice and the voice of her relative, Toni McConnell, were listened to by the Puyallup Tribal Council. As a result, Susan Hammond and I began delivery last year for the Tribe with two rounds of The Art of Practice and the Organizational Dojo™. Now, an aggressive proposal is on the table to continue for the future. Like anything in business, there is no guarantee that they will move forward. But, it is something worth sharing.

My third visit was to be an all-business-aside-ninety-minute-lunch with a good friend, John Pace. We’ve known each other about thirty years. We flown airplanes together, taken hikes together, talked deep issues together, and shared some of life’s joy and pain together.

You can read about John’s love for and dedication to his wife, Rashmi, in the Ronin Post’s article “Perseverance Part II” http://www.alliedronin.blogspot.com/2010/08/perseverance-pt-ii.html. The April 2011 Ronin Post article “Paragraphs: Life Lessons in Bite Size Pieces” http://www.alliedronin.blogspot.com/2011/04/paragraphs-life-lessons-in-bite-size.html spoke to John’s diligent efforts in correcting problems facing Boeing’s 787 aircraft, and the ramifications regarding managers who would put a financial bottom line ahead of safety and the well being of the public they are charged to serve.

On January 26^th in the middle of lunch, we found ourselves talking about leadership, public service and corporate governance, and of what we as a nation find ourselves listening to on the radio and watching on TV. We both agreed that our “news” in the US is lacking when compared to what we both have found when venturing across borders - whether that be to Canada, Mexico, India, China, Europe or elsewhere.

At one point John said, “You know, I believe that many, if not most, of our companies, organizations and institutions really don’t screen for leaders any more.”

“What do you mean?”, I asked. “Well,” he answered, “I think they are looking for are people who can best bully and push others around in order to increase a short-term bottom line or to just get some pre-determined way that’s already been interpreted as being ‘right’. I think the American mindset has mistakenly begun interpreting bullying as leadership. Yes, it’s important to have a strong voice. But bullying and leadership are two very different and distinct things. We’re walking on some dangerous ground here.”

John’s a thoughtful guy. He takes care in assessing problems and situations. He’s dealt with some intense issues, including - keeping his bride alive in the face of opposition from doctors who told him there was no hope, and doggedly persisting to correct issues facing the 787; refusing to allow management teams in their drive to push ideas that could have had disastrous consequences.

He continued, “If this continues, we’re in for some rude awakenings here in the U.S. Even politically. We’re not engaging in, or practicing, or expecting meaningful dialogue. We are missing the respectful exchange of ideas for the purpose of finding common ground for a better future. Very few conversations actually exist to solve problems. What’s become commonplace? Loud voices that just need be right in order to win. People dig in just to keep their opinions alive and profitable. Nothing gets accomplished. Nothing gets created. Nothing moves forward. It’s short-term thinking. There was a day when we in the US led the world with creativity. Now it seems we’ve become greatly invested in being polarized and being right.”

Hmmmm.

I suppose I could have written about something else this month. Like maybe, why I didn’t catch a fish. But given our current national discourse (and posturing), I’d rather us stew for a while on what John Pace had to say over lunch on January 26^th.

A gnawing (and disturbing) thought of mine for quite some time has been that we in the US have developed such a fascination with entertainment that we’ve developed some weird interpretation for what “reality” is. Entertainment and politics and business have all become enmeshed. We don’t get “the news” any more. We get “the repeats” with a slightly new spin. We live by and inside of sound bites. We don’t investigate or research what we find on the internet, or what we read in some passed-along email, or what we hear on the radio, or what we see on the TV. We are so used to being hearing some talking head (regardless of industry) say, “what you really need is” that we begin to think we really do need it! We are used to hearing questions asked by reporters that are never answered. And then the reporter just lets that slip on by. Why? We don’t have time for the answer because we’ve got to get to the commercial. And what happens when someone lies and actually gets caught on record? He or she justifies the lie, and gets away with skillful re-language, saying, “I misspoke.”

As a child I used to read Al Capp’s comic strip called Li’l Abner. Therein was a character named General Bullmoose. His motto was: “What’s good for General Bullmoose is good for the USA.” Of course, General Bullmoose was a fictional character. Just ink and color in the Sunday morning cartoon section. Turn the page.

Like it or not, John Pace’s voice struck chord at lunch on January 26^th.

What he said has merit.

It is something worth thinking about. Isn’t it?

My question is – what to do about it?

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