As we near the end of 2022, I wanted to provide a quick update to the Aikido community on what I, and Aikido Journal, have been up to since our last update, and what lies ahead. 

Aikido Pioneers: Postwar Era

I’m excited to announce that we’ve completed Aikido Pioneers: Postwar Era and will begin taking preorders next week. This is a project I’m very proud of, and one that would not be possible without the backers of Aikido Pioneers: Prewar Era. 

Aikido Pioneers: Postwar Era is an expansive hardbound volume containing Stanley Pranin’s interviews with many of the closest prostwar students of the founder of Aikido, published for the first time in book form. Stan dreamed of publishing this book, but illness took him before he could bring it to completion. I’m so glad that together, we can finally bring that dream to life. 

You’ll receive an email from us next week with details and instructions to preorder the book. We’ll accept preorders until December, after which we’ll print these numbered, limited edition books. We expect to deliver the books in March 2023. 

Aikido Journal Physical Archives

In partnership with Yoshiko Pranin, Stanley Pranin’s widow, we’ve begun the process of taking possession of, and indexing, the vast physical archives of Aikido Journal. Stan collected 8mm films, handwritten notes, scrolls, and many other artifacts related to the history of Aikido. 

As a first step, we’ve begun digitizing the 350+ hours of raw interview footage that Stan recorded on cassette tapes – many dating back to the 1970s. This is formidable project has been made possible by a few members of the Aikido community who have brought some valuable resources to the endeavor. 

Aikido Journal Members Site 

We’ve received a number of inquiries about the old Aikido Journal Members site. When I first took the helm at Aikido Journal, I communicated that the site was not viable for us to support, but that we would leave it up for as long as we could. The time has come for us to take the site down. It was built on 20-year-old technology, had a number of interwoven services that disappeared, and the site was impossible to defend against malware attacks. 

All of the articles on the Members site have been, or will be published, on our free public site. We are slowly converting the old instructional courses over to our new platform (Aikido Journal Academy). If you purchased a course on the old Members site, you’ll get a free copy of the updated version of that course when it’s released. We’ve already relaunched Ki Aikido with Koichi Tohei, and Nishio Aikido with Shoji Nishio. Over time, we plan on converting the Morihiro Saito course, as well as Stan Pranin’s Zone Theory courses. We have no expected release date for these right now. 

Budo Accelerator

It’s hard for me not to mention Budo Accelerator because it’s where most of my focus is right now. We’ve made great progress in 2022 and now have a proven model that uses Budo as a platform for education and social impact – in a way that is repeatable, measurable, and scalable. 

Some of the world’s leading universities have taken serious interest in our programs and we have more young people interested than we can support. Our fall programs for first-gen students at UC Irvine were oversubscribed within an hour of announcing them. By the end of 2022, we will have run programs for over 350 high school and college students.  

In 2023, we will begin pilot testing with 1-2 partner dojos in other geographic regions. After we test and refine our partnership model, we’ll be ready to scale our programs more broadly. We hope you’ll consider working with us when we’re ready to support a larger number of dojo partnerships. It’s a wonderful way to bring youth and diversity into your dojos, and to create real social impact in your community. 

In the interim, the best way to support us is through tax deductible donations. Every donor and every dollar builds momentum and opportunity for Budo Accelerator, and for the art of Aikido itself.  Please consider making a donation. Together we can do something amazing for young people – and for the art of Aikido. 

I’ve so grateful for the support and insights I’ve received from the Aikido community this year. The tenacity and resilience the community demonstrated as we’ve all emerged from the pandemic has been truly inspiring for me. 

A new year lies ahead. I’m optimistic about the future of Aikido, and our community.

Lisa Tomoleoni Shihan (6th dan Aikikai) spent almost 15 years in Japan training at the Aikido World Headquarters and teaching Aikido professionally at a dojo in Tokyo.  In addition to over 30 years Aikido experience, Lisa has black belt ranking in Judo and Iaido and is a member of the Kenshukan Dojo in Tokyo. She is Director of the Aikido Shimbokukai, an organization officially recognized by the Aikikai Foundation in Tokyo, Japan with nearly 50 member dojos, Chief Instructor of the Abiding Spirit Aikikai in Crystal Lake, IL, and an instructor at Jiai Aikido in San Diego, CA.

Lisa is also a coauthor of the book “Along the Way”, a collection of writings about training.

Thank you for taking the time to speak with Aikido Journal, Sensei. You lived in Japan almost 15 years. What inspired you to move there? 

First off, I wanted to thank you for the opportunity to share my experiences and perspective with you and the Aikido Journal community. As to Japan – I wanted to see what Aikido was like there, where it started. My original plan was to go for one year. I didn’t speak any Japanese except for Aikido technique names, basic greetings, and “that hurts”. It was really hard at first. I eventually learned the language by studying on my own and with the help of friends. 

My Iaido teacher, Takayama Takashi Sensei, was especially helpful. He would have me sit next to him whenever our group went to eat after training and teach me Japanese. He had me write “reviews” of events in the dojo and out, and he wanted them handwritten in Japanese.  He would read them and return them to me the next day with notes and corrections to grammar, in red pencil. Even after I moved back to the U.S., when I wrote him letters, he would send them back with red pencil corrections.

He passed away in 2009. He was very supportive and caring, though also very strict. I miss him and think about him every day. I wish I had been a better student to him. I didn’t think so then, but I realize now that I wasted a lot of opportunities. 

But my main focus was Aikido, and in the Aikido world, I had the opportunity to be an uchideshi at Shindo Dojo, a branch dojo of Hombu Dojo in Tokyo. It was a very traditional experience. I took care of the dojo. I did the office work and published a monthly newsletter in Japanese and English. I took care of things for the chief instructor, Shindo Sensei. I did the cooking, cleaning, laundry, and gardening. I drove her when she had to go places and made sure the car was spotless. There was a pottery studio I cared for as well, and I learned about making pottery, both ceramic and clay. It was 24/7.

Yoshiko Shindo Sensei was very demanding – very old school. It was a very strict environment, very controlling. It was hard not to lose myself – to keep my sense of autonomy. I learned about putting my ego aside. I learned about awareness. I learned about timing. I learned about being detail-oriented, about customs and etiquette. 

Between Aikido classes at Shindo Dojo and Hombu Dojo, and my Iaido and Judo, I was training 8 to 10 hours a day, usually seven days a week.  I even had the opportunity to train with the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Special Judo Team, which was quite the education. I was, at the time, the only foreigner training on a regular basis with them, and the only white belt. 

At Shindo Dojo, after some time, I was allowed to assist with classes and was later given the opportunity to teach some classes. After some years I was designated the successor to the dojo. When Shindo Sensei passed, I was to become the chief instructor of that dojo. I was legally adopted for that purpose. That was a huge honor. 

So I was supposed to stay, but there came a time when I realized I needed to return to America. My mother was getting older and my sisters had children who were strangers to me. I decided that, despite my commitment in Japan, it was time to go back to the U.S.

Before leaving Japan, I went to speak with Ueshiba Moriteru Doshu to thank him for everything he had done to support me during my time in Japan. He said, “Lisa, go back to Chicago, start a dojo and connect with me.” That hadn’t occurred to me, but when Doshu says that, the only answer is “Yes, Sensei”, so I did. 

Was this the inspiration behind the founding of the Aikido Shimbokukai organization?

Yes. As I started becoming more acclimated to being back in the U.S. and its Aikido community, some people wanted to join together with me. A couple years after I had returned to the U.S. my dear friend Meido Moore Shihan, who I’ve known for over 30 years, asked if I had thought about forming an organization. I hadn’t but we began putting a structure together in 2005. After that, quite organically, more people and more dojo connected. At that time, there were basically two ways to connect with Hombu – one was through a relationship between Hombu and one individual, the other was a relationship between Hombu and an organization. Ours was the first method originally, based on my time at Hombu and teaching in Japan. However, I didn’t want it to be about me. I wanted it to be about us, the organization as a whole. So we applied for official recognition as an organization from the Aikikai, which we received in 2014. We have 47 dojo right now and about 750 members. So we’re not a large organization but we’re a happy one. 

What is the organization’s top priority?  

To provide a connection to the Aikikai and Home Dojo for our members, and to empower people to follow their own paths in Aikido. Our organization does not follow the style of one teacher with everyone in the same lineage. We’re not a purebred. We’re a mutt. We have people from different lineages, different backgrounds, different styles, all coming together. Nobody is saying “My style is better than your style.” The only thing that we are very adamant about is following Hombu Dojo’s ranking and organizational guidelines. Everybody supports and respects each other. I’m grateful that our organization is cohesive and there’s no drama. 

What’s your vision for Aikido Shimbokukai? 

My vision, and that of our Advisory Board and others who have helped build the organization, is to be an entity that connects people to Hombu Dojo, and gives as much guidance and input as people want without micromanaging. To provide a vehicle that empowers people to follow their own path in Aikido and evolve in the way that they wish without judgment, without controlling, and without shutting people down. 

Also, to build and maintain good relationships with others in the Aikido community, and to collaborate and be of service whenever we can. For example, during the early part of the pandemic it was not possible to receive packages from Japan through the postal service. So one of our folks, Kraig Rice Sensei, organized a FedEx pickup and delivery so we could get our certificates. We reached out to other organizations and included their stuff in the shipment, and we all worked together to help the community. Doshu Moriteru Ueshiba often speaks of “Wa”, harmony. This is important to us.

Another way we build community is by organizing inter-organization seminars. Ikeda Sensei started the Bridge seminars 18 years ago at Jiai Aikido in San Diego and Shimbokukai helps with that event every year. We also host the Midwest Bridge seminar series, as well as a range of other events every year.

Tell me about your relationship with Ikeda Sensei, who is your senpai in Aikido but your Vice-President. What are the dynamics like between you at the organizational level?

I treasure our relationship, even though I am not of his style and lineage. I met Ikeda Sensei a number of years ago and invited him to teach seminars at my dojo for a number of years running. At one of those seminars, he broached the topic of joining Shimbokukai. 

I was so grateful for two reasons. One, I was very touched that he saw something in the organization that he liked and wanted to be a part of. And secondly, I was grateful for the opportunity to be of service to him because he does so much for the Aikido world. If I could give a little back and support him in some way, I was grateful for the opportunity to do that. 

In Shimbokukai, he’s the Vice President and a member of the Grading Committee and the Advisory Board. When he joined, some of the people at Hombu were a little confused and I was asked by a couple instructor/staff member friends at Hombu, “is Ikeda Sensei taking over the organization?” I said “No. He’s not. We work together.” 

You’ve been running some large-scale hybrid events recently. Can you tell us how these events started and evolved? 

The pandemic has been horrible in many ways. As everyone knows, when the lockdown hit, everything shut down. In May of 2020, we organized a virtual bridge seminar with instructors from all over the world. We had about 175 attendees. It was one of the first virtual seminars that was held after the pandemic hit. The format was so successful, we’ve run many online and hybrid events since. 

And when things started opening up after the pandemic, I didn’t want to abandon that format. To say, “Now we can train in person, so all you people in other parts of the world, we don’t need you anymore.”  – that didn’t make sense to me. So we started doing hybrid events. Individuals could join from wherever they are and train solo, but also could gather in their dojo and train together, while receiving instruction via Zoom. And these sorts of hybrid opportunities seem to be working for people.

It’s a great way to build bridges and community.  The pandemic forced everyone to get Zoom capability in their dojo, so the infrastructure is everywhere now. To be able to have people gather in their own dojo and open a window to teachers and communities in other parts of the world is wonderful.

One thing I’d like to point out is that it requires a strong team to do these larger scale events successfully. I have not done this alone. I mean, I’m really technologically-impaired. Kay Rudisill and Gary Marks are two people who have been pivotal to the success of these events. They took care of all of the technical aspects for so many events, not just for Shimbokukai but for other organizations as well. They’ve been really instrumental in keeping the Aikido community together through the pandemic.

By the way, I’m very excited to work with you to create a large-scale virtual / hybrid Budo Accelerator fundraising seminar later this year. I look forward to sharing more about this in the days ahead.

What do you think is the greatest challenge and opportunity facing the art of Aikido today?

It’s hard to pare it down to one greatest challenge, because so many things are connected… I think one issue right now is the number, age, and diversity of practitioners. In addition to having more people train, we need to reach different populations and age groups. We truly need for Aikido to become a global practice in all senses, not just from the perspective of how many different countries Aikido is practiced in.

Another challenge is that people need to better clarify their path in Aikido and their dojo’s path, because there are many misconceptions about what Aikido is. There’s a broad spectrum of how Aikido can be manifested; what aspects are valued. Some people practice as a martial art for self-defense, other people practice as artistic expression, or for health, and so on.

I think it’s wonderful that there are a variety of forms of expression. I would hate to see that go away. I think everybody should be free to pursue their own path but let’s define what our individual path is, or our dojo path is, so we can be clear for ourselves, our students, and others.

How has your perspective on Aikido changed over time?

In my early days in Aikido, it was all about how hard I could throw somebody and about strong, effective techniques. But as time went by, I’ve become of the mindset that it’s about learning how to manage myself through the techniques. Of course, I want the techniques to be effective. But they are, in many ways for me now, a vehicle for learning how to manage myself physically, mentally, and emotionally. Learning how to conduct myself in a relationship with somebody else. 

Is there anything else you’d like to share with the Aikido community?

First, the COVID pandemic was rough in many ways. For our community, it took its toll. A lot of people dropped away from Aikido. A lot of dojo weren’t able to stay open. Those of us who are still training, the dojo that are still in existence, everyone should be proud of themselves. Everyone should recognize how important that is and the efforts that it took to do that. It’s something to acknowledge for yourself and others, and to value.

The other thing is related to that. When I was living in Japan and training in Iaido, I went to the dojo four times a week and trained for four hours each time. I was training hard. One day, my teacher called across the floor, “Lisa-san – Go home.” I said, “What? Excuse me?” He said, “Go home. You’re not valuing your training. You’re wasting my time and yours. Pack up your stuff, change, and go home.” I was mortified. I asked him to let me say and said I would do better. he was unmoving. 

Before I left, I went and bowed to him and said thank you. He told me not to come back until he called for me. He told me not even to pick up my sword or practice at home. He said not to even come to the dojo to clean. 

I was upset at first. “Why is he doing this to me?” Then I went home and thought about things. I realized that I had been training hard but was just going through the motions. After two weeks, my senpai called and told me Sensei wanted me to come to the dojo the next day. I got my uniform ready, packed my stuff up, made sure my sword was clean and I went back to the dojo with a new feeling.

I had taken my training for granted without even realizing it. I vowed I would never do that again. And then the pandemic hit and I couldn’t get my hands on anybody to train, couldn’t be in the dojo to train, and I realized I had done it again. I had taken training for granted. 

I want to invite people not to take their training for granted, not take things for granted, both inside and outside of the Aikido world. I’m suggesting we all keep this in mind, myself as well, of course. Aikido is a wonderful gift to the world and can provide opportunities for all kinds of development and change. Let’s cherish this art of ours, keep it going, and appreciate what it gives us. Things are impermanent. Let’s all appreciate our training while we can, and have gratitude for it and each other. 

In Spring 2022, Yoshimitsu Yamada Sensei sat down with Josh Gold at San Francisco Aikikai to discuss his time as an uchi-deshi, his perspective on aikido’s growth and evolution over his almost 70 years of experience in the art, and his thoughts on the student-teacher relationship in aikido.

Yoshimitsu Yamada Sensei (8th dan shihan) was accepted into the Hombu Dojo uchi-deshi program (live-in apprentice) in 1955 to study directly with the Morihei Ueshiba, the founder of aikido. While in the program, Yamada also studied under Kisshomaru Ueshiba, Koichi Tohei and Kisaburo Osawa. An invitation to demonstrate aikido at the 1964 World’s Fair brought Yamada to New York City. He stayed on to become Chief Instructor at the New York Aikikai and has since become one of the most important figures in the introduction and spread of aikido in the United States. In addition to holding the role of Chief Instructor at NY Aikikai, Yoshimitsu Yamada is the Chairman of the United States Aikido Federation, the largest aikido organization in the United States with over 200 member dojos.

Josh Gold: What was it like at Hombu Dojo when you trained there as a young man? Do you still have clear memories of those times? 

Yoshimitsu Yamada: Well, that was a long time ago but I do still remember many things from that part of my life. I started aikido when I was 18 years old. My situation was quite unique because my first day as an uchi-deshi was my first day of aikido. I had never practiced aikido before but made a commitment to a long period of hard training. I knew of aikido through my uncle, which is why I was accepted as uchi-deshi. I felt really fortunate because at that time very few people were accepted into that kind of training program, and those who were had to practice regularly at the dojo for a while before they were able to apply as an uchi-deshi.  I was so happy to be able to take advantage of that opportunity. 

How many hours a day were you practicing back then?

Usually about 5 classes a day. There was a class at 6:30am, 8:00am, 3:00pm, 5:00pm and 6:30pm. And whenever O-Sensei and Doshu had a private lesson for a VIP, it was our responsibility to be there to take ukemi for the student. Sometimes those students were not my favorite to practice with, but since they were VIPs, I always had to be polite. It was a tough job.  

When you started aikido as uchi deshi, did you have any idea that you’d make a career out of teaching aikido?

Not at all. I went into my training just being happy to have the opportunity to learn aikido. We uchi-deshi never even thought about it in those days.  Aikido was very small then, even in Tokyo. The only people who could make a living teaching aikido was the Ueshiba family. 

What was your relationship like with the Ueshiba family at that time? 

Kisshomaru Doshu and his wife were very nice to me. I’ll never forget the kindness and hospitality they showed me. I was only 18 years old and as an uchi-deshi had to cook for myself. Kisshomaru Doshu’s wife let me use her personal kitchen to prepare my breakfast. Unbelievable! As I get older, I appreciate the Ueshiba family more and more. 

Did people get injured often in those days?

I never had any terrible injuries myself, but it was hard to tell how often others were injured. Back then, if someone was injured, they would be ashamed to say anything or show that they were hurt. It would be revealing your weakness to others. You’d just deal with it quietly on your own. Most of us felt that if we were injured, it was our fault. Perhaps we hesitated or made a mistake taking ukemi. Now that I think back, accidents and injuries probably happened many times. 

The mentality around injuries is much different these days. Nowadays, people have no hesitation to acknowledge injuries. We’re in a different time and a different place now, so I can’t criticize the way we did it back then, nor the way things are now. It was just a different world. What worked for us back then is probably not a good approach for us today. 

What are the main differences you see in aikido between then and now?

I’m a teacher now, so my mentality is different. As a teacher and someone leading an organization, it makes me happy to see so many people involved. It’s good that aikido is so inclusive, that everyone can practice equally, and that aikido has no competitions. But because of this, people can take advantage of the system – and some do.  Especially people who become teachers. Some teachers will say, “There shouldn’t be koshinage in aikido, it’s brutal.” That’s just one example but there are all kinds of mentalities. Aikido is very free, but sometimes too free. That’s dangerous. People can take advantage of the goodness of aikido. It’s so easy to become a teacher nowadays, probably too easy. 

Another thing I’ve seen is that many people nowadays start aikido in a club at college. I see this in America, but even more in Japan. It’s a good way to introduce people to aikido but it creates a different mentality for the student, right from the beginning. It’s a school activity, a club. It’s not budo. The circumstance and environment create a very different level of commitment. It changes the student-teacher relationship. And since aikido has become more popular and commercial, there’s nothing you can do. So from a teacher’s point of view, I’m very happy to see everybody training, but on the other hand, it makes it much harder to maintain quality levels in aikido. In Japan, most people who start aikido in college automatically get their nidan after four years when they graduate. This doesn’t make sense to me. In a way, I feel sorry for them because they don’t have the same kind of opportunity and experience we had. 

I started aikido at the age of 19 and I trained hard, 5-6 days a week. One thing I notice about young people coming into the art today is they think they can train once a week and they’re going to make meaningful progress. 

I see that too, but I don’t blame them if they think that way. Circumstances are different now, but I hope as time goes on, things will change. This is one of the advantages of starting aikido in a dojo. Automatically, it’s budo. The atmosphere is based in budo from the very beginning. But honestly, I don’t see many young people in aikido now anyway. Sometimes when I go to lead seminars, I only see older people. No young people on the mat.

You mentioned the student-teacher relationship. What are your thoughts on the student-teacher relationship in aikido now, after so many decades of teaching? 

Teachers should create an atmosphere of honesty and respect. I don’t like a student who only says “yes” to the teacher or agrees with everything they say. If a student has something to say- if something’s wrong, say it. That’s a more honest relationship. But do that with respect. I know it’s difficult to be honest and respectful at the same time, but it’s the kind of relationship I want to see. It’s something I learned from Doshu Kisshomaru and saw in his personality. That’s why I respect him so much.

You run the United States Aikido Federation, the largest aikido organization in the United States. What’s your vision for the future of the USAF and what do you think are the most important things you’d like to see carry forward?

That’s a good question and one of the reasons I have a hard time sleeping every night. I think about this a lot. Once, I was discussing this with Tamura Sensei and, I asked, “Have you prepared some kind of directive for your organization after you pass away?” He said, “Forget about it. Even if I tell them what to do, once I’m gone, they’ll have their own ideas anyway.” Now I understand what he meant. (laughs)

I’m very glad that many people say the USAF is good, and I think so too. But there will always be problems, And the bigger you are, the more people and activities there are going on, the more problems will show up. That’s just how it is. I hope we can keep improving and I hope that after I’m gone, others can continue the tradition. Of course, there are always people who have different ideas and it can be difficult to work together. Everybody has their own ego and opinion – we’re all human beings. But people can disagree and still work together. We can’t force people to think a certain way. You don’t have to be friends. You don’t even have to like each other, but that doesn’t mean you should be destructive or be disrespectful to each other.

From a technical perspective, I like to see very pure technique and strong basics. Nothing fancy. Today, some aikido looks very fancy, especially on social media, but people who know can tell that kind of aikido has nothing inside. It looks fancy, but it’s empty and lacks fundamentals. Unfortunately, some instructors are like this. They look fancy and have bad technique – you can tell the uke is not even having their balance broken.  It’s part of what I meant when I say that aikido today is too free. It’s important to be responsible with that freedom and remember the basics – irimi, connecting, harmonizing. And if you have those basics and they are strong, then you can be fancy. 

How does it feel to get out again and do seminars after the pandemic? How’s the community?

It was very difficult in the beginning, but now I’m getting back in shape. I didn’t realize how physically weak one can become after two years with almost no training. I really missed seeing people and their experiencing their kindness and their devotion to aikido and the dojo they belong to. I missed having a normal time. So now, I really appreciate this moment. I think we’re strong when we’re together. That’s why I say at the beginning of class that I appreciate everybody’s support and devotion to the dojo they belong to. 

It’s wonderful to see the huge gathering of people from many dojos who gathered for your seminar here in San Francisco. The aikido community here is strong and people seem very supportive of each other. Is it the same way in New York?

Well, that’s the history of aikido in California, isn’t it? Yes, it’s great to see people like Patricia Hendricks, Jimmy (Friedman) and all these people from different dojos and teachers show up. In New York, it’s not really like this. People get together, but it’s not like the community here in California.

What do you think it is about you that draws so many people together? 

I don’t really know. I don’t think I do anything special. Maybe it’s my personality (laughs).

To be continued in Part 2. Coming soon.

The following editorial was contributed by Jason Perna of Old City Aikido.

When I first stepped on an Aikido mat, O-Sensei had only been gone for about 20 years. My teachers still spoke of him often and instilled a very strong sense that O-Sensei was the absolute source and represented the pinnacle of martial understanding, a level that none of us who followed should reasonably hope to achieve. 

His first-generation students, having all become teachers themselves, were all still alive and actively helping to spread the art, and as I began to encounter some of them, the message was quite similar. They all protected him very carefully and spoke of him in a way that preserved that sense of awe-inspiring devotion. The practice was mostly that of preservation – very careful preservation – without much room for experimentation or innovation. I didn’t question any of it at the time, but now, decades later, I am left to wonder if the message was the right one for the future of the art, or at least whether it was properly understood. 

Since it was reasoned that no one else would ever be like O-Sensei, and he was now gone, how could the art ever hope to evolve or improve? Since the mandate of preservation is always accompanied by some level of deterioration, each generation was left to grapple with the notion that they were simply not as proficient or significant as the last. 

Hélio Gracie is widely acknowledged as the founder of Gracie Jiu-Jitsu, yet in contrast to the culture I just described, there are probably very few modern jiu-jitsu practitioners who believe Hélio’s game would stand up to the scrutiny of today’s competitors. Competition and daily pressure testing have led to continual refinement and innovation, and, as a result, the modern art has evolved significantly. You know what, I’ll bet Hélio would be very proud of that legacy, proud to have poured his heart into something that has likely surpassed his greatest expectations. You know what else, I’ll bet O-Sensei would be proud of such a circumstance as well, proud to imagine that future generations of Aikido practitioners might refine and expand upon his vision, rather than merely being in awe of it. What great teacher, after all, does not wish to see their art refined and improved upon by those who follow? I think the best way to honor O-Sensei is to move the art forward in a way that is sincere, relevant, innovative, and includes the scrutiny that I believe he himself would have demanded.

Of what use am I to my students if my goal is only to be some diminished version of my teachers? I believe I should instead be working as hard as possible to go beyond the understanding of my teachers, not for the purpose of highlighting my own accomplishments, but as means of demonstrating to my students a path to someday surpass me as well. It is my wish for all of them to do so. I embrace a perspective that looks ahead with enthusiasm, and dares to believe that we might take the art further than even O-Sensei could have imagined. 

Steady on…

Kayla Feder Sensei, 7th dan, Aikikai, is the Dojo-Cho of Aikido of Berkeley. In 1973 at age of 9 Kayla fell in love with Aikido and now has almost 50 years of continuous training in the art. For the first 20 years of her practice, she was greatly inspired by her training under Morihiro Saito Sensei. In 1980 Kayla traveled to Iwama, Japan to train with Morihiro Saito as an uchi deshi (live-in apprentice). During subsequent trips to study Aikido in Japan, Kayla trained under many direct students of the founder of Aikido, including Kisshomaru Ueshiba, Seiichi Sugano, Motomichi Anno, and Kazuo Chiba. Since childhood she has also practiced with and been strongly influenced by Frank Doran, Robert Nadeau, and Hiroshi Ikeda. In addition to running Aikido of Berkeley, Kayla teaches seminars throughout the U.S., Europe, and Israel and holds a Masters degree in Holistic Health Education.

Josh Gold: Thank you for joining us today, Sensei. You started Aikido when you were very young. What attracted you to the art?

Kayla Feder: I knew I was passionate about Aikido the day I walked into my first dojo in 1973 at age nine. I had been practicing baseball and soccer. I loved sports and moving my body, but I  didn’t like the idea of one team winning and another team losing. 

When I found Aikido, I was elated. I still remember that first day- just racing home and saying, “Mom, I have to do this. Please sign me up.” And somehow I just knew that Aikido was going to be in my life.

Tell me about your first experience as an Aikido teacher.

When I was 17 years old, some family friends asked me to teach in a town called Benicia, which is about half an hour from Berkeley. I knew I wanted to play a role in sharing Aikido with others so I agreed and started teaching at a youth activity center there. I loved it, and it grew. Before I was 18, I had opened a dedicated private dojo in Benecia. I don’t think that could happen so easily now. 

How did you even sign the dojo lease as a minor?

I don’t know. I just signed it and got started. Twelve years later when the landlord found out how old I was, he said, “I never would’ve leased to you if I had known you were 17 years old.” In those days, we didn’t have the beautiful Zebra mats we have now. We put down tire shavings and then had a sail company make canvas covers with grommets for the mat cover. We were really resourceful in getting started. But yeah, I didn’t really think about the fact that I was opening a dojo and becoming a Chief Instructor at age 17. I just did it.

Did you encounter any challenges in terms of teacher-student dynamics due to your age?

I had a lot of students in their 30s, 40s, 50s. It didn’t seem to bother anybody. I don’t know that a lot of them knew how old I was. My mom told me I was always confident in my role there, but I also knew my limitations. Perhaps that’s why I didn’t have challenges with my students.

What’s most important lesson you learned from that experience?

Always be open to growth and learning from the students. I came to the conclusion that as a Chief Instructor, it’s important not to use the position to isolate yourself or think of yourself as better than your students. If one does that, openness to growing and learning is gone. Never let the ego run the show, always be openhearted about learning and changing. And the longer I teach the more I find I have to learn.

You’ve been practicing aikido for almost 50 years now. How has your own understanding and personal expression of the art changed over time?

I started in Iwama lineage, which I feel is a beautiful way to begin training. Saito Sensei’s way of teaching was very canonical, very step oriented. Looking back, I’m really grateful that’s where I began. There was so much clarity. Clarity in what to do with your hands and feet.

One way to think about building skill in a system like Aikido is by visualizing a pyramid. The bottom of the pyramid is the foundational movements – big, broad, movements and core mechanics. So as you build the pyramid, when you get to the top, the foundation is there to support it.

I think it’s really important that at a certain point in a person’s learning of any art, they begin to go free. My image of my own Aikido is through the lens of that pyramid. I feel that the bricks on the bottom are really clear and well crafted. And I’m so grateful to Saito Sensei and even to Bruce (Klickstien) for having supplied that clarity.

But at some point, I remember feeling like, okay, I can do aikido in this way, but I want to find a way to become freer. So at a young age, I started to broaden my training experiences. I went to summer camps, including the San Rafael Aikido camp for a week, every year.

I met Frank Doran Sensei, Bob Nadeau Sensei, Terry Dobson, and got introduced to Ikeda Sensei. I was introduced to these people at a young age and loved what they were doing. And through those experiences, I started exploring other ways of moving and looking at the art. I feel that Doran Sensei has really been a major influence on my Aikido and my teaching. And although I wasn’t his direct student, I have trained with him a lot and almost think of him as a grandfather figure. 

So that really clear step by step practice, that canonical way of learning was wonderful. It took me a long time to break out of that shell. One of the things that keeps me going and inspires me now, is to continually think about how to improve my teaching and my own practice. I’ve always felt awed by the hugeness of Aikido.

You mentioned earlier that sports or activities with organized competitions didn’t really resonate with you. Through Budo Accelerator, I’m introducing aikido to an increasing number of young people. Many of our college students tell me one of the most attractive things about aikido is that it’s a martial art they can practice that’s not competitive. They tell me they have enough competition academically and want a way to build a skill and develop meaningful connections without competitive pressures.

What kind of abuse?

Emotionally, generally. But my first aikido teacher, Bruce Klickstien, was both physically abusive and emotionally abusive. 

Bruce Klickstein was your first aikido teacher. And in the 1970s, he abused you. Most people would despise a person like him, and everything about him. Yet a couple of times today, I’ve heard you say that you’re thankful to Bruce in some ways.  How do you find a place in your heart to be able to say positive things about somebody who was horrible to you- and other people?

That’s a really good question. I completely forgive him. I don’t forgive what he did, and he should never be allowed to do that to anyone again, but I forgive him. He’s another human being. And my hope is that he’s growing and changing and learning. I’m very fortunate because I’ve been able to work through what happened to me and because of it, I’m a wiser, stronger, better person. And if I were hating him, I would still be stuck in that place. So I’m actually very grateful to him and still feel fortunate that his Aikido school was walking distance from my house when I was a kid. 

Thank you for sharing that with us. I really admire the resilience and compassion you show related to this very unfortunate part of your early Aikido experience. Let’s switch gears a little bit. I was fortunate enough to take your class last night and I saw you leading special training for a couple folks who are getting ready for their shodan (first-degree black belt) test. How do you think about preparing people for their shodan test and as a teacher, what does the rank of shodan mean in your eyes?

Shodan means beginning. When somebody earns their shodan, they’re ready to really start their Aikido journey. The process of practicing regularly and intensely is so good for us as human beings. Preparing for your black belt test can really bring the intensity of one’s practice to a very high level, but in a positive way. I also find my own relationship with students training for a test becomes closer through the process. We learn more from one another in this period of focused preparation.

Also, the idea of a rite of passage is really important to me. We don’t get that enough in our culture and this particular rite of passage is something everyone can appreciate and participate in because it’s not tied to a particular religion or culture. I think it’s so special for somebody to work hard at something, commit themselves, put their heart and soul into what they’re doing, and then see the benefit and attain their goal.

At my dojo, Aikido of Berkeley, I purposefully have adults keep a white belt until shodan. And a person doesn’t wear hakama, whether they’re male or female, until shodan. Then on the day of a shodan test, I make a big deal out of it. I get their belts embroidered with calligraphy. I choose a calligraphy for their belt – they can have their name, or I choose a kanji that’s meaningful for them. We get the hakama embroidered and these people are honored on that day. I put them through a lot. I mean, I really put them through the grinder. We make them work, and then they come out of it feeling really good about themselves.

Do you have anything else you’d like to share with the Aikido community at large, or even Aikido instructors specifically? 

Don’t stop growing. Those were O-Sensei’s words.  There’s never an end to our growth. As Aikido practitioners and human beings, look around you for the people who can help you grow in life. Every person and every situation can be our teacher. If you’re regretting anything you’ve done, or a decision you’ve made – look at it as another opportunity to grow, learn, change and become a better more effective person. We can all do this, and the art of Aikido is a wonderful way to train our capacity for this.

You may have noticed that we’ve taken a hiatus from publishing the last few months. And although you’ve not seen many new articles recently, much has been going on behind the scenes at Aikido Journal.

Aikido Journal Academy

We’ve updated the Aikido Journal Academy site, where most of our video and book products can now be found. We upgraded some of our older courses and products and made them available on our new (and better) platform. You can now find video courses and books on the site from (or featuring) masters such as Koichi Tohei, Morihiro Saito, Shoji Nishio, T.K Chiba, and others. We plan on modernizing more of our product catalog and making it available here later this year. 

Aikido Pioneers: Postwar Era

Our first print project in 20 years, the limited edition Aikido Pioneers: Prewar Era, generated more interest than expected, and people loved the finished product. Many asked if there would be an Aikido Pioneers: Postwar Era. Stanley Pranin and Aikido Journal had never published this book, but we discovered a nearly complete manuscript in the archives.

Aikido Pioneers: Postwar Era was a project that Stan would have loved to see come to life. I think he’d be proud of what we did with his Prewar Pioneers book and I know he’d be delighted to learn that we’ve now made a commitment to publish his unreleased Postwar Pioneers book. This important book contains interviews with teachers many of us have trained with – Moriteru Ueshiba, Morihiro Saito, Shoji Nishio, Yoshimitsu Yamada, Mitsunari Kanai, T.K. Chiba, and many others. We’re now in a pre-production phase and will soon make a formal announcement about the release of this new limited edition tome. 

Interviews

As lockdowns eased, it’s been wonderful to travel again to other dojos. In recent months, I’ve had the opportunity to train with teachers like Yoshimitsu Yamada, Mitsugi Saotome, Frank Doran, Patricia Hendricks, Michael Friedl, Kayla Feder, Penny Bernath, Peter Bernath, Jimmy Friedman, Lee Lavi, Jim Alvarez, Philip Greenwood, Jim Graves, Ray Feliciano, Don Ellingsworth, and Guy Hagen.

In the coming months, you’ll start to see new interviews and editorials – including one with Yoshimitsu Yamada, now 84 years old. You’ll also be able to access more of Aikido Journal’s older interviews as we continue to republish content that was previously behind a paywall. 

Budo Accelerator

On a personal level, I’ve also been intensely focused on building Budo Accelerator. The pace and strategic challenges of building an aikido-based social impact organization for scale have been formidable. 

We’ve gotten major educational institutions and philanthropic foundations to take a serious look at Budo as a new platform for social impact and education, and young people love the programs. 

All this would not be possible without the support of the aikido community. I’d like to extend a heartfelt thanks to everyone who has partnered with us as instructors, curriculum designers, mentors, donors, fundraisers, and advisors. Through our combined efforts, we’ve done good things both for young people facing formidable life challenges, and for the art of aikido. 

I’ll have more exciting news to share in the coming months about Budo Accelerator’s progress. We have big plans and we’re just getting started. 

The Post-Pandemic Pioneers 

It’s been wonderful to see the aikido community emerging from the pandemic and our dojos coming back to life. The last 2 years have been devastating for the aikido world. Much has been lost, but we grew stronger in some important ways. I believe that with creativity and determination, we can make something better than we had before. People are looking for new ways to connect and build human relationships. I believe the art we all love so much can play a bigger role in providing this fundamental human need as we find our way out of a time of social isolation and polarization. 

When we kicked off our project to publish Aikido Pioneers: Postwar Era, I couldn’t help but think that all of us are the post-pandemic pioneers and we are creating the history of a new era of aikido now. Let’s do our very best to learn from each other, keep the best of who we are and what we are doing, and be willing to leave behind the things that hold us back.   

A new age of aikido lies before us, and it’s ours to shape.

With gratitude and friendship,

Josh Gold

The following editorial was contributed by Jason Perna of Old City Aikido.

When I first stepped on an Aikido mat, O-Sensei had only been gone for about 20 years. My teachers still spoke of him often and instilled a very strong sense that O-Sensei was the absolute source and represented the pinnacle of martial understanding, a level that none of us who followed should reasonably hope to achieve. 

His first-generation students, having all become teachers themselves, were all still alive and actively helping to spread the art, and as I began to encounter some of them, the message was quite similar. They all protected him very carefully and spoke of him in a way that preserved that sense of awe-inspiring devotion. The practice was mostly that of preservation – very careful preservation – without much room for experimentation or innovation. I didn’t question any of it at the time, but now, decades later, I am left to wonder if the message was the right one for the future of the art, or at least whether it was properly understood. 

Since it was reasoned that no one else would ever be like O-Sensei, and he was now gone, how could the art ever hope to evolve or improve? Since the mandate of preservation is always accompanied by some level of deterioration, each generation was left to grapple with the notion that they were simply not as proficient or significant as the last. 

Hélio Gracie is widely acknowledged as the founder of Gracie Jiu-Jitsu, yet in contrast to the culture I just described, there are probably very few modern jiu-jitsu practitioners who believe Hélio’s game would stand up to the scrutiny of today’s competitors. Competition and daily pressure testing have led to continual refinement and innovation, and, as a result, the modern art has evolved significantly. You know what, I’ll bet Hélio would be very proud of that legacy, proud to have poured his heart into something that has likely surpassed his greatest expectations. You know what else, I’ll bet O-Sensei would be proud of such a circumstance as well, proud to imagine that future generations of Aikido practitioners might refine and expand upon his vision, rather than merely being in awe of it. What great teacher, after all, does not wish to see their art refined and improved upon by those who follow? I think the best way to honor O-Sensei is to move the art forward in a way that is sincere, relevant, innovative, and includes the scrutiny that I believe he himself would have demanded.

Of what use am I to my students if my goal is only to be some diminished version of my teachers? I believe I should instead be working as hard as possible to go beyond the understanding of my teachers, not for the purpose of highlighting my own accomplishments, but as means of demonstrating to my students a path to someday surpass me as well. It is my wish for all of them to do so. I embrace a perspective that looks ahead with enthusiasm, and dares to believe that we might take the art further than even O-Sensei could have imagined. 

Steady on…

This short editorial is contributed by Don Ellingsworth Sensei (5th dan), who is a Head Instructor and Founder of Aikido Chuseikan in Tampa Bay, Florida. He is a direct student of Mitsugi Saotome Sensei and is the Administrator of the ASU, one of the largest Aikido organizations in the United States. 

Aikido can be a beautiful framework for self-discovery.  Of the many wonderful things about the art is the way we are able to practice with dignity, defined as composure and a sense of self-respect. Dignity is not just reserved for the person doing the throwing, but also for the person receiving the technique.  Realized to its full potential, this is a truly beautiful thing to experience.

My own tendency when training is to become competitive, to want to throw my partner, or in some way show superior skill, strength, or technique.  For me, the more common model seen in a fighting art only feeds this instinct and leads me into the binary solution of win or lose. Therefore, these days, the purpose of my Aikido training is to move beyond that model–to one where there is another solution to conflict.

When the Founder changed his martial art from Bujitsu to Aikido, one of the differences that manifested was the intention found within the practice; that of moving away from a practice of destruction toward one of harmony. In this search for harmony, the practice of offering dignity can point the way.

I consider Aikido to be a martial art for the modern world, a world where I am fortunate to live my life consistently near the top of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs.  My daily energy is not spent defending my life, but instead, trying to improve the quality of it.  And on better days, it is spent trying to improve the quality of life around me. We live in a society built on community, tribes, families–all kinds of different social constructs.  Our place in this framework is largely based on our own behaviors. When we treat ourselves and the people around us with dignity, we show an understanding that we are all connected, and that the quality of life of the ‘other’ is connected to our own quality of life.

Within the movements of Aikido, there are many opportunities to offer dignity to our partner.  Consider the relationship of uke and nage; uke’s role is set from the beginning to accept the movement, to maintain balance and to continue the attack.  At the same time, nage is tasked with accepting the initial attack, then guiding the partner in such a way that resolution is achieved (utilizing the principles of Aikido).  All the while, it is expected that if nage releases some pressure or breaks the connection, uke will regain their balance to their own dignified posture, often resulting in a continuation of the attack.

At their best, the movements of Aikido are graceful and powerful. When intercepting the attack with Aiki, we don’t hit or crush our partner, we offer them a way out of the conflict that allows them to maintain their dignity. Going a step further, we actually offer them protection, and one more step, guiding them to the mat into a pin could even turn into a needed stretch.

One way to approach the role of uke is to frame your attack as a “gift” to nage, as in: “I am breaking my natural connection with the universe to launch an attack and I want that gift to be well received. I want nage to succeed but also be challenged. I will stay engaged with the way nage responds to my challenge, attempting to minimize my own judgment and simply be a partner in our movement together.” When taking the role of uke, offer your attack. Be attuned to how the partner is responding and give them the dignity of your mindful attention through your best ukemi.

In our daily life, this could be like asking someone a question, “How are you doing?” There are many ways to ask this question.  You could ask it and then look down at your phone. You could yell it to a co-worker while running past her on the way to a meeting. You could ask your spouse, and then roll over to go to sleep before an answer is given. Alternatively, we could look at our partner, make a connection, be engaged in the reply, and allow it to unfold into a conversation about our deep concerns and hopes for the future. Interacting with people in this way shows honor, respect, and… dignity.

Saotome Sensei has said many times that the purpose of Aikido is nothing short of retraining our natural instinct to become one of global concern, respect, and compassion.  I believe that if we take a dignified approach to our practice, it can help put us on this noble path.