I am someone who moves, and I am also someone who has a degenerative disease that is steadily making it harder and harder for me to move at all. I'm in grows steadily worse. I am someone who moves, and I spent four months of this year either in a hospital bed or lying in a reclining chair recovering from surgery, unable even to stand for very long. Almost two years ago, I began studying Aikido, which is a martial art. The founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, who is one of our dancing saints, believed that we can learn to live in the world with no violence, no resistance and no enemies.
Aikido practice is done on a large mat with a partner, one person attacks and the other receives.
The movements are all large flowing spirals. It's beautiful, challenging and endlessly surprising. At its best, Aikido is an experience of receiving someone's aggression toward you, joining with them, and then redirecting their energy with such compassion that neither of you gets hurt. Practicing Aikido is profoundly graced for me, a chance for my joy in movement to become prayer. There are times in practice when my partner takes hold and the energy flows through us both effortlessly, and there's this enduring moment of moving with someone else in humility, utter freedom and astonished joy.