Mental training is of capital importance in any aspect of life… in any martial art, not only in Aikido. A trained mind can achieve far more than a ‘normal’ individual who only sees the surface of things.
…Wait, what am I talking about here? Sure, mental training as a general concept is OK, but… what exactly am I referring to? It’s a hell of a large concept actually and this is why it’s kind of slippery, since it’s got so many sides to tackle.
When I was a teenager, I had a very interesting talk with a fascinating semiotician, on… just about everything. One of the things that he said then and struck me as being so ‘natural’, yet profound, was something like:
Evolution is the engine of all life. Ah, you can’t imagine how glad I am to be part of an underdeveloped species such as the human being. And you know why? Because if man would one day touch his full potential, mental and physical, then that day would be the day when all evolution stopped. That would be the day when the human being would be dead as a species.
Interesting perspective. So, getting back, this is what I’m mainly talking about: mental training as a way to explore more in-depth the human being’s potential.
Instead of lecturing on the philosophical and psychological facets of this problem, activities for which I might be under-qualified, I’ll just write down a tale that Sensei got us to know when trying to analyze with us the mental training concept:
It is told that a long while ago, when there were no grades in martial arts, when somebody received the title of ‘Master‘ after many years of training and then could teach others himself, the students were selected by far more rigorous standards than nowadays.
In essence, a “valid” student was one who really wanted to learn, by all means, and who showed determination, willpower and patience. Also, the student should have been a fighter, not a quitter.
The story says that one day a young person approached a great Master and asked whether he would be allowed to train and to learn from him. The Master answered he could become his student only if he was truly prepared and if he was able to follow directions. The student said he was ready.
Then, the Master told the student that his training shall start with an exercise. He asked the student to walk on the sides of the dojo, exactly on the edges, at the point where the floor met with the walls. Moreover, the student had to be at all times fully aware of what he was doing, at the way he stepped, he had to follow the line exactly without tripping or falling over, he had to have a perfect posture and balance, the steps had to be firm and even etc.
The new student was surprised and skeptical about this, but did what he was told. To his surprise, the Master didn’t say anything and continued with what he was doing, apparently without paying any attention to the new student.
After a while, the student asked whether it was alright and if he could stop. The Master answered him that it was the student’s choice if he was to continue his training or not. If he wanted to go on, he was to follow instructions without questioning them.
This way, days passed. As time went by, the Master prepared new drills for his student. Although they all seemed dull and un-connected with anything practical, the student went on.
After a long time (weeks? months? years?), the student asked the Master whether he was ready to start actual training, like the other students, to learn real techniques. The Master told him that when the time comes and he will consider the student is ready, they will go down on techniques too. Until then, the student should discipline himself and perfect his skills and do his drills.
A long time passed yet again and, since the student didn’t quit and did everything he was supposed to, the Master started to teach him techniques. They went on to the “real training”.
To the student’s surprise, the amount time they spent on the “real training” was considerably smaller than the time he spent – seemingly uselessly – on his drills. The Master explained to him that if he learned, while doing all the drills, to exercise his mind, then the techniques were less important, because they were the physical teaching that almost anyone could learn and master. The mental training was important.
One day, the Master told the student that his learning was over. He was now ready to become a Master himself and to pass on to others his knowledge. The student thanked the Master and when he was packed and all, the Master offered to accompany him on the road for a while.
So they started walking for their maybe last promenade together and kept talking. Somewhere on the path they came over to a large abyss; the two sides were connected by a frail and narrow piece of wood.
The Master said that was the point where their paths would separate. The student knew he had to go on and pass on that bridge, but he was afraid. He feared the bridge would crack beneath him or that he might lose his balance and fall. While standing there and thinking what to do and what to say to his Master, he saw that from the other side of the abyss there was somebody approaching. Watching the stranger getting closer, he noticed he was blind and he used a wooden stick to find his way. The blind man came to the edge of the abyss and he searched with his stick the bridge. He then stepped on the bridge and, continuously ‘touching’ it with his stick, he came to the other side, effortlessly.
While the student watched, perplexed, the blind man passing by them, the Master told him: “You see, this is the last test for you. I know you can do it, but you don’t know it yet. This is why you need to prove to yourself that you’re prepared, that you’re finally ready to face anything. What good all these years of hard training if you can’t overcome your fears and just let go? Let go of everything. See how the blind man passes the bridge naturally? He knows there’s an abyss beneath, but he can’t see it. He’s guided by his tactile sense only and by his stick. If he can do it, you can do it too.”
Then, the student had a “snap” in his mind and finally came to understand that his years and years of drills prepared him for anything, but he had to take a final mental leap in order to value and put to practical use all his knowledge. With this in mind and with the certainty he was indeed prepared, he crossed the bridge and went on his path. (Presumably he became a Master and taught other people, passing on his knowledge.)
I don’t know if the way I related this story is perfectly accurate or if all these really ever happened – it’s not the details that matter, but the essence of the whole story.
So… above all, mental training!
