Carrie Parkinson, Huron Valley Aikikai
I recently attended the 32nd anniversary celebration seminar at Fox Valley Aikikai in Naperville, Illinois. As I was catching up with old friends and meeting new ones, inevitably the same questions were asked and answered: What’s your name and pronouns? What’s your home dojo? How long have you been training?
As I was asked, I realized I’ve been training 17 years, more than half of Fox Valley’s tenure. I can’t help but think back to my first years as a student.
I remember my first time observing a class, which was actually a year before I first stepped on the mat. I was so enthralled yet intimidated by the focus, the techniques, and the level of athleticism demonstrated on the mat that it scared me off for a full year. The appeal was too strong however, and one cold November, I committed.
Some people’s first seminars are energetic and exhilarating. Mine was intense and intimidating. In the middle of the dojo, there was a pillar. I can see the humor in that now, and I also appreciate that it’s another way to hone my 10-direction eyes. At the time, It was one of many factors feeding my anxiety. After one particularly hard fall, the dam burst and I ran off of the mat.
I don’t wish anxiety on anyone. However, if you’ve never had a panic attack and want to get an inkling of what one is like, this scene from Inside Out 2 gets it pretty close, at least from my personal experience. I will always remember the kindness of Deb Pastors Sensei, who went over to me, helped me to calm down, and worked with me at the back of the dojo so I could still train.
As I continued to practice, my confidence and skill increased and my anxiety decreased, so panic attacks are now rare. It was a lovely contrast to train with Deb Sensei again at the Fox Valley seminar, having 17 years of experience under my belt.
Although much has changed in my practice since I started, the fundamentals are the same as they ever were. I knew going into it—and having had a year to think about it—that it was going to be hard. I would probably get frustrated, struggle, and cry a lot.
I also remembered the party where two friends excitedly swapped aikido stories while I listened, fascinated. That enthusiasm only increased when I observed a class, but so did my anxiety. I knew my anxiety wouldn’t get any better unless I showed up and started training, so I did.
Some training partners and I have a joke about when one of us misses a class that we normally go to. When they come back, we would say to them, “Sensei taught the secrets of aikido and you missed it!” Though that’s obviously a joke, it’s also true. To me, the secret sauce of aikido is commitment. Everything else is secondary to putting in the time to learn and practice. So by not being at class, you are truly missing the secrets of aikido.
Commitment doesn’t mean showing up to every class. Many obligations pull in many directions. I’ve been through stretches where I trained 3 times a week and went to 4 seminars a year, I’ve also been through months where I could not train at all. My commitment to get on the mat or back on the mat stayed firm. I’m glad to have started aikido, and I am glad to have kept with it. I treasure the friends I’ve made and the experiences I have had, and hope to be training well into my retirement.