One of the things that most appeals to me
about the art of Aikido is that it develops the ability to soften even – in
fact, especially – when under attack. Softness disarms your enemy internally:
it melts the brace that is inside him. And even if it doesn’t achieve this, it
gives you some space to work because you are more fluid, and it allows you to
be more powerful because you can use your energy more effectively when you’re not tense.
Until I learned about all of this, life
seemed divided into two areas to me: times when you could be soft and peaceful,
and times when peace wasn’t going to cut it and you had to fight.
The idea that softness is the answer even in
the most extreme and threatening situation was a game changer for me. If
softness is the best answer when your life is at risk, then what reason can
there possibly be for anything other than softness the rest of the time?
I guess I should be clear that being soft
doesn’t mean being a pool of jello on the floor. It means that you are not
tensed – in body, spirit, or mind – against what is happening.
Acceptance, releasing tension, and breathing
are all components of softness, but it’s so much more than that. Most
importantly, it is an attitude of opening yourself to others, looking for
openings and opportunities to blend with others, and using joyful energy
instead of strength.
Softness is dancing with life.
Generally I am predisposed to be tensed
against life. If I feel bad physically, I tense against it, achieving nothing
except escalating and prolonging the pain. If I feel tension in those around
me, I tense in response, upping the tension one more level. If things aren’t
going the way I want, I brace against them, trying to regain control, instead
of flowing with them to find a new opening (which I can’t see because of my
control-induced tunnel vision).
Now, however, I don’t just believe that
softness is always the answer; I know it. I also know that softness is a
practice – a practice of embodying that belief every day, of translating it
into a physical reality inside yourself. It’s an alchemy waiting to happen in
every moment that I choose to practice it.
I am far from mastering this practice, but
now at least I know that life is divided, not into when softness is appropriate
and when it's not, but merely into this: when I am practicing softness, and
when I am not.
