Limbering

I first came across this word in Aikido practice. After two hours of exercises, rolling, falling, locks, and blending with the partner, the Sensei (that is, a black belt teacher) announces, “Okay, limbering!”

And the sound of that word sends untold relief to my exhausted muscles, overstretched joints, and dizzied head. This announcement signals the last exercise before we kowtow our farewells to all the evening’s strife.

Limbering is a generic word for stretch. The dictionary would say-

· to do … exercises so as to stretch the muscles; “The coach limbered the players before the game”

· to cause to become flexible; “The violist limbered her wrists before the concert”

the goal being to make a person … “capable of moving or bending freely.”

In this last exercise, the partners take turns to “limber” each other. It begins with both facing each other. Partner B (called UKE- or the one who receives the technique) grasps the two wrists of partner A (called NAGE- the one who executes the technique). Then with Uke’s hold maintained, both turn away from each other and Nage bows his upper body down to waist level to allow uke to mount his entire backside on Nage’s back. This provides uke with a well-extended body stretch, to help uke relax and limber. To provide further stretch, nage pulls uke’s left arm and right leg simultaneously away from the body. Oooh stretch!

I didn’t enjoy this exercise in the first few months because of the painful discomfort of being pulled in all directions, and worse, while dangling on someone’s back. At first I thought it was just a necessary evil that I had to suffer through for the sake of stretching.

But what bothered me was that the other uke’s registered blissful smiles while being limbered by their nages.

I even thought maybe it’s an age issue, because most of the other aikikais were much younger than me.

I explained my discomfort to my sensei, expecting from him a profoundly professional explanation, and maybe some expertly intricate procedure on how to rectify the problem.

But his explanation fell way short: “You’re not relaxed that’s why.” I braced for a more profound exposition of the problem and the solution.

“Just completely relax. That will do it.”

True enough, the next time I limbered I noticed that I would clam up, bracing for the worst. This negative anticipation brought pains to my upper back, neck, and awkward stiffness to my dangling legs.

So I decided to relax. Yes, I learned that to relax was a deliberate choice. And when I did, slowly the magic happened. There was actually a smirk on my face, then a sigh. And I stretched blissfully!

This word relax is the key to all my struggles in aikido. I had to straddle this paradox and unlearn the conditioned belief that martial arts conjures reinforced bone cells, high velocity kicks, explosive punches from rock hard fists colliding with toughened muscles to parry the blows.

And thanks to Hollywood, none of it suggested relax except the pre fight meditations. Even then, the meditations came with intense music foreboding a storm.

The word relax must have been uttered to me by my partners a gazillion times at practice. Aldem, relax. So I have established that when I don’t execute the technique, that means I am not relaxed. When I don’t roll well or fall painfully, I don’t relax my lead arm that takes the fall. When I don’t blend well with the nage, that means I don’t relax.

Who would have thought that success in aikido entails a lot of controlled and deliberate relaxation and flexibility? How counterintuitive to say the least?

Guess what? This world relax also happens to be the key to my struggles in life. Who would have thought that true success in life, business, leadership, and relationships, involves a lot of relaxation, trust, meditation, peaceful confidence in self and others, surrender to God’s will. But this world appreciates teeth gritting, hyperventilated crams at crunch time.

It hails the action oriented, the grizzly, the hyperactive. Don’t get me wrong. The problem is not in the action. God knows how this world needs good action.

But where does effective action come from? I’ve always been intrigued by this quote:

And a great and strong wind was rending the mountains and breaking in pieces the rocks before the LORD; but the LORD was not in the wind. And after the wind an earthquake, but the LORD was not in the earthquake. After the earthquake a fire, but the LORD was not in the fire; and after the fire a sound of a gentle blowing. (1 Kings 19;11-12)

Not in a tornado, not in an earthquake, not in a blazing fire.

But in the gentle breeze.

“This is a law of Nature. When we strive to act, the forces of Nature do their will with us; when we grow still, we become their master. But there are two kinds of stillness — the helpless stillness of inertia, which heralds dissolution, and the stillness of assured sovereignty which commands the harmony of life… The more complete the calm, the mightier the… power… the greater the force in action.” (The Strength of Stillness by Sri Aurobindo)

The Power of Second Chances

On my last year in college, at a time when I felt too old to learn something new physically after having done some running and body building, my batch mate took us to the high school field. He had been a medalist in judo which he started only in college, a pretty significant achievement for someone who did not start out in the discipline in his younger age.
In the field he showed us some of the basics of the martial art, which he said began with rolling. Pretty cool stuff, considering that if you want to effectively drop your opponent to the ground you better be comfortable with dropping down yourself. I was quite hesitant to learn it, giving premium to my soft head. True enough, my fears were soon warranted when my head hit the ground hard after the first attempt.
I didn’t realize till much later that the fact that my friend was good in judo did not mean he was good at teaching it, though by now that painful experience had left a lasting mark on me- I declared that I was never going to touch that rolling stuff anymore, with my head far too precious to risk.
That was almost 20 years ago.
Fast forward 2007, now with four kids and 60+ pounds later, my wife and I enrolled our kids in aikido, of which I had the faintest idea. We chaperoned them through the first month and I saw how similar it was to judo, in fact I learned later that judo was one of the sources of aikido. So the rolling and the falling were marked qualities of the exercises- and there were lots of it.
Flash back to 18 years when I promised to keep away from the sport. Rest assured my position remained intact. What was fascinating was that for my kids, the rolling and falling came pretty natural, like spiders thrown to a web.
Then I heard the most outrageous suggestion- my wife snuggled up to me in her characteristic charmingly dominant fashion and said, “Why don’t we try it?” At the mere suggestion my heart pounded to the gruesome prospect of mangled old bodies, contorted joints, and busted skulls.
But of course, not wanting to sound like a wimp, I gulped, “Sure!” And we did, and the beginnings were terrible. All of a sudden the world was turned upside down. Here in the dojo the three kids in our family were the experts, frolicking all over the mats, while the adult were, well, cautious, and hopelessly inflexible to say the least. For the first time I’d see from the corner of my eye, my 9 year old son look painfully at how I tried, and desperately failed to back roll because some stupid joint got in the way, and he’d later come up to me and say, “It’s ok, you’ll get it pops!” and I’d dutifully reply, “Thank you son!’
To add insult to you know what (and there are by now lots of it by now if you know what I mean), my wife, ever the initiator, and mainly that, decided to jump ship! Her back’s had enough she declared, so it was time to pursue her first love, dancing (which she swears is to this day is still evading her. But that’s another story…), leaving me with my kids to continue practice. Actually I felt beaten to the punch, since she declared it first, now I feel I have to carry the burden of being a model to my kids, and what a painfully mangled model I foresaw in the months to come.
But persistence always has its rewards, if it does not kill you first. Now I can roll, many times… not the way i would want to yet, but I’m working on it. And over a year after that painful beginning, I’m actually enjoying the art! Then last May my 11 year old Nicov and I passed our exam for the yellow belt!
I will reserve another entry for that experience, but just to close with the mystery that almost 20 years later, at a time past the prime of youth, I engage in a martial art that should have had its day eons ago, and yet here I am. I feel the aching joints are right where they should be, and this old body better accept hundreds of slams on the mat, coz I’m gonna be practicing aikido for a long long time. Second chances are ours for the taking. And they should have told me that it’s sweet when we do.