My pregnancy hormones are causing me to be terribly emotional at the moment (along with swollen feet, feeling icky in the mornings and being constantly knackered... but that's all normal!). I've finally admitted that I can no longer go on the mat to practice aikido so I'm sitting on the side-lines for both classes now. This is not out of choice - my hakama forced me to do it! I can barely get it tied round my waist and, when I do, I get stuck in it! It's sometimes necessary to avoid people's "sweat pools" on the mat but with the hakama pressing on my bladder... it's getting a bit risky for everyone involved! As well as the hakama issue, I have never known exhaustion like this. I know making a baby is hard work but nothing can prepare you for the exhaustion and I can't even describe it properly to warn anyone. I had to spend the whole day on the couch on Saturday since we'd had a busy week and clearly my body can't cope with it anymore!
Anyway, as I've said before, not being on the mat doesn't mean that I can't still take part in lessons. I've blogged about lessons that I have learned from watching the white belt students practice for their gradings and a few classes ago I very much enjoyed watching the other green belts pummeling each other for the best part of an hour.
One of my classmates is going through a bit of a tough time at the moment - I won't go into detail because that wouldn't be fair but I will detail Sensei's lesson about it and how it affects my own situation.
Sensei pointed out that when people get injured, whether on or off the mat, it would be dangerous to take part in class and so some students will still attend but sit out to watch (emphasising my view above that there's still learning to be done). This is called "mitori geiko" or "watching practice". Sensei noted that doing this shows positive character and resilience. A strong spirit. However, the true test of the strength of your spirit is when your heart is breaking and your mind is consumed by grief or sadness and yet you can still hold your head up and step onto the mat. People deal with their problems in different ways but the aikido practitioners that I know seem to have this need to keep going and don't appear to think twice about it.
So that, of course, got me thinking! Everyone has their troubles. We might not know about them or how it's affecting that person but everyone has concerns and worries. For me, aside from building a baby which comes with it's own worries and anxieties (see previous blogs), my mum's partner has recently been diagnosed with 2 forms of dementia which is truly testing the family. The fact that he knows what's happening to him is hard enough and I can't imagine what he must be going through but the family are having to watch him deteriorate right in front of them. Yes we can make sure he's sorted with meals and walking aids and yes we can sit and listen to him even though he's making absolutely no sense - that is what he needs and that's fine. But then we have to go away and somehow get on with life. This man who once gave me cokey-backs up the stairs, built sandcastles with me, made me jam roley-poley and custard after every. single. meal. he ever cooked, helped me pass my English exam when the Philip Larkin poems got too depressing for words... can barely get himself out of bed without help, can't walk 10 feet without needing a rest, is convinced the neighbours are out to get him and can barely string a logical sentence together. Yes we can help him as much as we can but who helps the ones who are, in essence, left behind? Or in this case, who helps the ones who need to keep going without leaving one man behind?
Because life does go on no matter what's happening. The world still turns, the bed still needs made and the kettle isn't going to put itself on. As sensei said, there's joy in life even though it won't seem like it when you're given some terrible news or going through a difficult time. You might be left behind - but you're left behind with a life that has joy in it. You might feel that you're leaving someone else behind - but just talking to that person will be enough to bring them joy.
Positivity, resilience, determination: your spirit is your true shield. I think true aikidoka recognise this (even if they don't realise it) and that's what brings them onto the mat even though your average person would prefer to close the door, turn off the lights and shut the curtains.
As well as having something to focus on, an aikido class brings me joy. A sense of achievement for myself when I finally grasp a technique, pride when my fellow practitioners achieve a new belt, belonging to a close family (that's different from my actual family), fun, compassion and dedication. It makes you wonder... through the good times and the bad, why wouldn't you go on the mat?
