MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI - 12

 

Original Creative Principles of the Universe

Reiki-no-hô Kashima-Shinryū

Inaba Minoru Sensei, the 2nd Kancho of Shiseikan
Commissioned as Meiyo Kancho of Shiseikan

There are no words, expressions, or technical processes that can fully explain Sensei Minoru Inaba. What I experienced with him was the most difficult thing to explain: an evolving and transformational process in the code of Bushido, a merging of ReiKi and AiKi.

The most direct link between these two arts is Sensei Inaba. The connection between Reiki-no-hô (and Kashima-Shinryū as a whole) and Aikido is primarily established through twentieth-century lineage cross-pollination. This historic connection highlights how specific internal mechanics became woven into Aikido practice.

Sensei Minoru Inaba, as the long-time director of the prestigious Shiseikan Dojo at the Meiji Shrine in Tokyo, openly synthesized his Aikido with Kashima-Shinryū principles. He taught Kashima's sword system (Kashima-no-tachi) alongside Aikido, introducing generations of Aiki to Reiki-no-hô.

While the founder of Aikido, Morihei Ueshiba, drew his core physical curriculum from Daitō-ryū Aiki-jūjutsu, the introduction of Reiki-no-hô through cross-training provided a highly compatible framework for internal energy management.

Before writing this part, I researched and tried my best to pick the right approach to express it. Frankly, it is just a childish attempt, and obviously, it cannot be limited to words.

Reiki-no-hô functions as Kashima-Shinryū's native version of this engine. It teaches a practitioner to drop their center of gravity, relax the shoulders, and project ki through a stable skeletal structure.In Kashima-Shinryū, the physical application of Reiki-no-hô manifests as Reikinage (spirit-energy throw). In Reikinage, when an attacker grabs the defender's arm, the defender changes the density of their body frame and drops their center. This collapses the attacker's balance without a visible struggle.

Before any movement or contact happens, the practitioner (tori) must establish an unshakeable skeletal frame.At the exact point of contact, do not brace against uke. Allow uke's force to travel through your arms, down your spine, and directly into the floor. Treat your arms like iron pipes wrapped in cottonstructurally rigid but surface-relaxed.

Changing Body Density and Breath, This step acts as the catalyst for the technique, shifting the interaction from a muscular struggle to a structural collapse.

"Become heavy water," Mentally and physically, drop all residual buoyancy out of your chest. This sudden grounding causes an immediate change in the "feel" of your arms to uke. To uke, it feels as if tori's arms have suddenly tripled in weight, drawing uke's center of balance forward and down.

The final projection happens because tori's entire torso moves forward as a single, unified unit (sotai). Uke is thrown not because they were pushed, but because their base was completely erased by tori's structural alignment.

Kashima-Shinryû teaches that the ultimate goal of martial art practice is to realize the "original creative principles of the universe," the martial techniques that one practices also must be performed as a part of the same beginningless and ceaseless cycle of emergence, reintegration, and re-emergence (hakken, kangen, suishin) exhibited by all natural phenomena.

 

MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI - 11

 

No Touch – AIKI NAGE

There are a lot of arguments and assumptions about No-Touch throws in martial arts practice. Then we often see them in demonstrations and videos. I was very sceptical about this, and once again, my answer was Tanaka Sensei.

This particular day at the Meiji Jingu Shiseikan Dojo, I was already known for one thing: when asked to be the uke (the person being thrown), I would give my hundred percent. Nothing stopped me. Full force, aggression, and a real attack. Nothing halfway.

This made me a favourite uke of many distinguished Sensei and Sempai.

On this occasion, a unique throwing technique was being demonstrated. The technique involved moving the centre and hips, projecting through the movement of the hands into the throw. I was standing in the line, waiting for my turn. For some reason, when my turn came, I rushed aggressively towards the Sensei with pure, brutal force.

I don't remember touching any part of his body. There was no feeling of touch, no push, no pull, and no kind of physical force that I could recognise. Wondering why my body had not yet touched the tatami. I was simply waiting to do the breakfall.

Then clearly heard the sound, “Wooow… Haah…” There was a sense of surprise around me. A moment later, I hit the ground. The angle of the fall caused some real pain and tried to get up and return to the line.

It was unusual, Why Everyone was standing far away from the normal distance, almost twenty feet or more.

Tanaka Sensei was simply smiling.

I returned to the line with a slight limp, trying to contemplate what had just happened. Everyone was looking at me with the same expression: “Are you alright?”

And even today, still trying to figure it out.

DID I TOUCH HIM OR NOT?

 

Breaking Balance Early - Kuzushi

The unbalancing process can begin at the moment of intent, before physical contact takes place. By entering the attacker's line of sight and projecting a fast, committed movement, the thrower can cause the attacker to react, adjust, or commit even more heavily to their trajectory. In this sense, what appears to be a “no-touch throw”.

The attacker is already moving with commitment. Then, suddenly and unexpectedly, the defender occupies the space into which that commitment is directed. Because two bodies cannot occupy the same space, the attacker's unconscious reflex may trigger an immediate defensive correction. When the movement is fast and the commitment is strong, that sudden reflexive adjustment can disrupt the attacker's balance and cause them to fall under their own momentum.

Standing there that day, slightly limping and surrounded by the stunned faces of everyone in the dojo, I was left with one question that has stayed with me ever since.

MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI - 10

 

The Singing Sword - Listening to the Sword

Sensei Tanaka Shigeho Meiyokancho

There is a particular quality of silence inside the Shiseikan Dojo. It sits within the wooded grounds of Meiji Jingu in Tokyo, a shrine built to honour Emperor Meiji and Empress Shoken, surrounded by a forest so dense that the roar of the city disappears within a few hundred meters of the torii gate. By the time you reach the dojo itself, you have already left Tokyo behind. You have entered something older.

I was one of the Sri Lankans ever given the chance to train there. I knew that before I walked in. But did not fully understand what it meant until I was standing in front of him.

Tanaka Sensei was 9th dan, One of the very few people in the history of Aikido to hold that rank. He had trained under Morihei Ueshiba himself, the founder of the art. He had studied Kashima Shinryu swordsmanship, a tradition older than Aikido, under a master named Kuni Zen'ya. For over sixty years he had taught at Meiji Jingu and coached the Tokyo University Aikido Club.

I couldn't hide behind effort, or behind the fact that I'd travelled a long way to be there, or behind the respect I so obviously had for him. None of that meant anything to the sword in my hands. The sword doesn't care what you intend. It only shows what's actually there.

"Listen," he said.

I thought I'd misheard him. We were holding swords. assumed he meant watch , watch the angle, the line, the form. But he said it again, and this time understood he meant exactly what he said.

Not look. Listen.

A sword, cut correctly, doesn't just cut the air. It makes a sound. And if it's cut correctly, really correctly, that sound can be almost like a flute.

He showed me.

The cut doesn't begin in the arms, he said. It begins in the ground. It travels up through the legs, through the centre of the body, out through the arms, and only at the very end does it reach the sword. The sword isn't where the cut comes from. It's where the cut arrives.

And even then, there's a trap waiting. You cannot force the sound, cannot grip harder, swing faster, or strain for it. The moment to make the sound happen, you've already lost it. All you get is noise.

But if everything beneath it is done right, if the ground, the centre, the arms, all move as one, without excess, without force, without ego trying to prove something, then the sound simply arrives on its own.

Tanaka Sensei taught me many things across the time I trained under him. But that day is the one I return to, again and again, long after I left Shiseikan and long after I stopped picking up a sword at all. He taught me to listen to the sword.

Because most of life works the same way. We spend so much energy trying to force the outcome, trying to make the sound happen, when the truth is simpler and harder: get the ground right, get the centre right, let go of the effort to control the result, and the right thing arrives on its own.

IY WARRIOR – EVERYDAY WARRIOR MASTERY 3

 

Integrated Human Energy Framework

HEAL. EVOLVE. ALIGN. SHINE

Perception vs. Sight

I was unable to see anything around me, could hear the noise of the protestors, gunshots, and tear gas being fired. I couldn't open my eyes. Burning is not the right word to describe it. couldn't breathe. It felt as though my lungs were no longer functioning, choking and coughing violently.

Never been hit by tear gas before. (Later, found out that a different type of yellow smoke gas had been used, one with the ability to temporarily paralyse the lungs and completely knock you out. The usual tear gas produces white or grey smoke.)

One thing that caught my attention was how the protestors managed to wet a cloth, cover their faces, and continue advancing despite the tear gas. But the rubber bullets brought them down. The next thing that came to my mind was my team. They were all down because of the tear gas, yet somehow, they still managed to hold on to their cameras, sound equipment, and other gear.

In an instant, forcefully grabbed a water bottle and a cloth from a protestor, poured water onto the cloth and over my face, and found a few seconds of relief. My entire system was working in a way I had no control over. There were no conscious brain commands, no planned physical movements, and no extraordinary speed. Just one step at a time, in sequence, organised and flowing.

Those few seconds of relief were enough. Moved quickly, grabbing each member of the crew by the collar or any part of the body I could reach, dragging them out of what I would call the line of attack between the security forces and the raging protestors. Gave them the water bottle and wet cloth, grabbed a few more wet cloths the protestors were using, and managed to bring the team back to their senses. We moved to what seemed like a safe hiding place—a ditch by the roadside.

The funny thing was that my crew still wanted to keep filming after recovering, even though they could barely open their eyes or see anything. Their only request was, "Just hold the camera towards the scene." What a team! Anyway, we were finally out of the danger zone, hiding in a ditch.

Then, realised my co-producer was showing his media ID while moving towards the barricade, shouting, "We are journalists!" heard a gunshot, and then he was down. Luckily, it was a rubber bullet, but he was severely injured and couldn't move.  Rushed towards him.

As I picked him up, three guns were pointed directly at me. There were no emotions,just silence as we stared at each other face to face. One gun fired. My head moved, perhaps an inch, without my knowledge or control.

Whoosh...

The bullet passed close to my ear.

Continued looking directly at them. No movement. No emotion. Just looking. The guns were still pointed at me from about twenty to thirty feet away. They didn't pull the trigger again. Perhaps they realised we were not part of the protest.

Shouted, "Move out! Go to the other side of the barriers!"

I somehow managed to carry my injured co-producer while gathering the rest of the crew  made our way past the barriers.

The rest is history.

BUT... THE LESSON.

The Teahouse Master and the Samurai

A humble tea master accidentally offended a proud samurai and was challenged to a duel. Knowing he could not win, the tea master asked a swordsmanship guru for a quick lesson on how to die with dignity. The guru replied, "Hold your sword like you hold your tea whisk. Keep your mind completely focused, calm, and ready to serve."

The next day, the tea master stood before the samurai. He was completely peaceful, devoid of fear, and drew his sword with absolute precision. Seeing this perfect calm and total lack of opening, the samurai bowed, apologized, and left without striking a blow.

The Lesson: Total presence and clarity of mind crush intimidation. In a negotiation or a crisis, absolute calmness eliminates panic and forces your opponent to rethink their position.

Adopt the "Body of a Rock" (Immovable Mind)

Maintaining the exact same mindset whether you are in a life-or-death duel or sitting calmly at home. If your emotions spike, your awareness narrows, and you drop back down to Level 1.

Budo Habit: Controlled Stress Exposure

Put yourself in uncomfortable sparring positions deliberately. Practice breathing slowly and deeply under pressure to prevent your heart rate from hijacking your decision-making.

Leadership Habit: The 5-Second Pause

When hit with bad business news or a hostile confrontation, force a literal 5-second silence before responding. This prevents an emotional, defensive reaction and allows you to address the situation with objective clarity.

IY WARRIOR – EVERYDAY WARRIOR MASTERY 2

 

Integrated Human Energy Framework  

HEAL. EVOLVE. ALIGN. SHINE

Perception vs. Sight

Life creates extraordinary moments where learning is put into action.

This was after my training and learning in Aiki, and the wisdom I received from my masters, back home in Sri Lanka. I was working for an alternative visual media organisation dedicated to creating awareness about peace and reconciliation. It was neither an easy time nor an easy task. My country was going through three decades of ethnic conflict, with deep divisions and politics benefiting the most from the situation. Anyone who spoke about peace was often labelled either a traitor or a terrorist.

It was during this time that a major political protest was organised by the opposition party. The protest was strategically planned so that thousands of people would enter the capital simultaneously through several major entry points. The ruling party had prepared extensive security arrangements to prevent anyone from entering. Barricades, batons, riot police, guns, and tear gas were all in place. The media were positioned across the various entry points, ready to capture the unfolding events.

Then there was my team and me, determined to bring the uncensored reality to the people, free from political influence or any other force that sought to suppress peace.

We were there. The protesters stood behind the barricades, roaring and shouting as they demanded entry into the capital. I wondered why none of the media were on the protesters' side, interviewing them or covering their perspective. Everyone was standing safely behind the barricades alongside the security forces.

"What kind of cowards hide behind the barricades, protected by the security forces?" Those were the thoughts running through my mind, and my team felt the same.

We managed to move to the protesters' side, capturing interviews and filming from every possible angle. Suddenly, everything changed. The protesters surged forward, breaking through the barricades with overwhelming force. We were caught in the middle. We had no idea how to get out, where to move, or, most importantly, how to avoid being trampled as the crowd turned violent. Interestingly, one of our biggest concerns was not only saving ourselves but also protecting our expensive video equipment.

The next moment, the security forces reacted. Tear gas was fired, followed by riot-control guns using rubber bullets. Then came the shields, batons, and the full force of the riot police.

That was the moment.

I finally understood why all the other media crews had stayed behind the security barriers with the security forces. The only foolish and ignorant ones were my team and me, who had willingly placed ourselves in the middle of danger.

I HAD FORGOTTEN THE MOST IMPORTANT TEACHING.

"Perception vs. Sight"

To be Continued……

Master the Principle of "Perception vs. Sight"

Musashi wrote that you must make your perception (Kan) strong and your visual sight (Ken) weak.

Sight (Ken): Looking only at what is directly in front of you (the opponent's sword, or today's urgent email). It makes you reactive.

Perception (Kan): Seeing the entire environment, underlying trends, and subtle movements without staring at them directly.

Budo Habit: Peripheral Training

Practice softening your gaze during sparring. Do not look at your opponent’s fists; look at their collarbone or central axis. This allows your peripheral vision to catch any movement instantly, giving you more time to react smoothly.

Leadership Habit: Look for Root Causes

When a problem arises, do not just fix the surface issue. Look at the systemic chain reaction that allowed it to happen. Train yourself to see the "why" behind the metric, not just the metric itself.

MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI - 9

 

Shuchu-ryoku – One Single Point

KANCHO KYOICHI INOUE at YOSHINKHAN HOMBU DOJO, JAPAN

I cannot remember the first words Inoue Dojocho ever spoke to me.

That may sound strange, but memory has its own priorities. After many years, conversations fade, techniques blend, and individual training sessions become difficult to separate. Yet certain images remain untouched by time.

Shuchu-ryoku is the power of total focus, a core principle taught by Gozo Shioda, the founder of Yoshinkan Aikido. It means gathering all your physical and mental energy into one single point. This is the mystical concept I always wanted to understand and know how it works. The opportunity came one day when Inoue Dojocho was teaching us Kokyu-ho and how to perform the technique with proper breathing.

It was in the sitting kneeling position (Seiza), and my turn came to hold Dojocho's hands. I gave a gentle grip while applying some pressure. He smiled at me and said, "Stronger." This time, I used my entire strength and body weight on both of his hands.

He simply breathed. Instantly, I felt the entire force disappear from my body, and with an exhale and a slight movement of his wrist, I was lifted from the ground and thrown to the side. The only way to save my head was by doing a breakfall (the proper way of falling). This was the beginning. I was privileged to have this embedded into my muscle memory and was fortunate to learn this art from other Aiki Sensei in the future (another part of the journey).

I was saved a few times from life-threatening situations or unseen dangers simply because of the gift transferred from the masters. (A totally different real-life scenario that I'll share under the IY Warrior title.)

Just to conclude, Shuchu-ryoku helps connect your breath and timing with your partner's energy to create powerful techniques.

• Total Focus: Bringing your whole mind and body together instantly.
• One Point: Directing all your power to a specific target or moment.
• Control: Using this focused energy to guide or stop an attacker without wasting movement.

 

Workflow & Study: The concept is widely utilized as a productivity method to encourage "monotasking"—focusing deeply on one specific task rather than multitasking, which increases retention and prevents burnout.

Ways to Practice

• Single-Point Meditation: Dedicate 5-10 minutes to staring at a single spot on a wall, refocusing whenever your mind wanders.
• Monotasking: When reading or executing a physical task, clear your workspace and disable all distractions.
• Micro-goals: Break complex projects into singular, bite-sized tasks and complete them one by one without skipping ahead.

IY WARRIOR – EVERYDAY WARRIOR MASTERY 1

 Rei in Reality

Everyone wants to test their skills, strength, and ability to overpower or be better than an ordinary person. It is a common feeling in any art while you are learning. However, a real-life practical application or experience brings a different level of understanding, confidence, and awareness. It becomes both a test and a challenge at the same time.

I’ll give a try to present these in sequence, starting with my Yoshinkan Senshusei training. This particular experience did not happen inside the dojo, but while simply facing an ordinary situation in daily life.

During Senshusei training in Japan, I needed to change my visa status in order to continue my training. The process involved submitting the required documents to the relevant authorities. Usually, a senior person from the dojo would assist the student with this process and accompany them when submitting the official documents.

I was honoured that it was Chida Sensei who personally took me through this process. We were standing at the train station, waiting for the arrival of the train.

I was standing beside Sensei, perhaps one or two feet behind him. While waiting, noticed a person rushing through the station. As he passed us, he deliberately brushed against Sensei, showing a clear sense of rudeness and disrespect.

My immediate reaction was to step forward and respond. All the training, instincts, and energy suddenly surfaced. ready to prove myself. This was the moment to test.

But Chida Sensei simply gave me a quick, deep look. With a subtle gesture of his fingers, he communicated one message: calm down.

There was nothing dramatic about that moment. It lasted only a few seconds. Sensei’s response was incredibly simple. He smiled at the stranger and gave a respectful nod, something closer to a bow, but not a full bow.

Surprisingly, the person’s attitude completely changed. His expression became blank, and he seemed unsure how to react. Whatever intention or emotion he carried before that moment appeared to disappear. His next glance towards us was with respect, and quietly walked away.

Now, where does this response come from?

Rei in Everyday:

In Japanese society, mastering Rei is viewed as a sign of adulthood and humility. It is a way to acknowledge the value and dignity of the person you are interacting with.

The concept is summarized by the phrase "Rei ni hajimari, Rei ni owaru" meaning "it begins with a bow and ends with a bow".

 

IY WARRIOR – EVERYDAY WARRIOR MASTERY

 

Pinkie Power – Unleashing & Forging the Everyday Warrior

Meiyo Kancho Minoru Inaba of Shiseikan Dojo Meiji Jingu

This is a new chapter that continues from Masters of Aiki to Mastery of the Everyday Warrior.

Simple things hold the greatest secrets. The Pinkie, the Little Finger. I never knew it possessed so many secrets and so much power. This time, I’m not opening it up completely, but just moving with a few clues for the real follower or learner to discover. 

ISN’T IT FUN?

I was first exposed to the importance of using the little finger in each technique, starting with Shihonage, the four-directional throw. The gripping and focusing of power, like an extended string running from the body's centre to the fingers, gave a tremendous focus of energy to break balance and execute the finishing movement with force. It’s not brutal, but a gentle wrap of the fingers.

The best way to relate to this is by holding or handling the sword. Different styles emphasise different methods, but the use of a weapon gives the real understanding of Pinkie Power.

OK. Now that’s the clue to start and All the best in discovering PINKIE POWER.

MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI – 8

 Kihon Dosa (Basic Movements)

Sensei Tsutomu Chida , former head of Yoshinkan Hombu dojo

When I left Sri Lanka in 1998, I believed I was travelling to Japan to become a better Aikido practitioner.That belief lasted until my first week at the Yoshinkan Honbu Dojo.

Everything I thought I understood about training began to unravel with remarkable speed. It was not because the techniques were unfamiliar or the physical demands exceeded anything I had experienced before. It was because I had entered an environment where every aspect of daily life was considered part of training. 

Every morning began long before the city had fully awakened. Tokyo moved with extraordinary precision. Trains arrived exactly on time, commuters flowed through stations with quiet efficiency and the city seemed to possess an invisible rhythm that never faltered. Walking through those streets each morning, carrying my dogi neatly folded under my arm, I often felt as though I was travelling between two different worlds. Outside, life moved with the urgency of one of the world’s busiest cities. Inside the dojo, another rhythm existed altogether, a rhythm that had changed little over generations.

The entrance to the Honbu Dojo was unassuming. Nothing about the building announced its significance. 

But Everything mattered. 

The way you entered the dojo.

The way you bowed.

The way you folded your uniform.

The way you stood while listening.

The way you treated your training partner.

Nobody needed to remind students what was expected. Senior students demonstrated them naturally, and juniors learned by observing long before they fully understood their meaning. 

As one of the Sri Lankans undertaking the Senshusei Course ( May be the only one of the two Sri Lankans crazy enough to do it), I often found myself reflecting on how unlikely this journey had been. Only a few years earlier I had been a young student discovering Aikido in a YMCA dojo. Now I stood on the tatami of the Yoshinkan Honbu, training within a tradition established by Gozo Shioda Sensei and preserved by instructors whose lives had been devoted to its transmission. 

Tsutomu Chida Sensei never needed to announce his presence. Chida Sensei had entered the Yoshinkan Honbu as an uchideshi of Gozo Shioda Sensei in 1971, dedicating decades to the founder’s direct instruction. More than simply inheriting techniques, he inherited the responsibility of preserving the spirit, precision and discipline that defined Yoshinkan Aikido. 

Watching Chida Sensei for the first time could be deceptive. There was no dramatic display of strength, no attempt to impress, no unnecessary movement. Sometimes he appeared almost relaxed, as though conserving every ounce of energy. An inexperienced observer could easily fail to recognise the extraordinary level of mastery unfolding before them.

Everything changed the moment I became his uke.

I had the privilege of taking Chida Sensei’s ukemi during my training. Even today, words struggle to capture the experience. His body possessed remarkable solidity, yet I could barely feel his hands. During a technique such as Shihonage, he would take hold of my wrist so naturally that it seemed almost insignificant. There was no crushing grip, no obvious application of force and no warning that anything extraordinary was about to happen.

Then, almost without explanation, my balance disappeared.By the time my mind attempted to understand what had occurred, I had already met the tatami.It happened repeatedly.

Every throw carried the same paradox. His body felt immensely heavy, as though rooted deep within the earth, while his hands seemed almost absent. During the technique it felt as if my entire structure had been compressed beneath an irresistible weight, yet when everything was over there was no pain, no sense of violence and no lingering discomfort. There was only an overwhelming awareness that I had encountered a level of skill unlike anything I had previously experienced.

For months I searched for an explanation.Eventually I stopped searching and simply continued training.

Everything originated from an unwavering centre. His Kamae was never merely a posture. It was a complete state of physical, mental and emotional balance. Every movement emerged from that centre without interruption, allowing his entire body to function as a single integrated unit. There was no conflict between one part of the body and another because everything moved together.

That realisation transformed the way I understood the endless repetition of Kihon Dosa (Foundational basic movements) .

Day after day we practised the same fundamental movements. Sliding. Turning. Entering. Stepping. Pivoting. Again and again they seemed almost too simple to deserve such relentless attention. Like many students, I occasionally wondered when the more advanced training would begin.

I did not realise that I was already doing it.The advanced techniques were never separate from the basics.

Soke Gozo Shioda’s philosophy of "Start from the basics, end with the basics" highlights that true mastery comes from constantly returning to Kihon Dosa (basic movements).

MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI – 7

ZANSHIN

I am in the second chapter of my training under the guidance of Sensei Yoshiura. Sensei mostly emphasised the flow after executing a technique. If I may describe it, it is the extension and unending purpose of execution—something closer to the long-term goal, with continuous focus and uninterrupted projected energy towards it.

That is something beyond words or ordinary technical understanding, but I tried and failed to grasp it regularly. It was another training session with the usual set of basic throws. Suddenly, Sensei asked me to be his uke (the person receiving the technique), and the technique was Kotegaeshi (wrist lock and throw). Normally, techniques were demonstrated in the centre of the dojo (training hall), but Sensei wanted me to perform it from one end.

I was in my usual state of readiness, mentally prepared for the wrist throw, but it turned out to be something extraordinary. I was thrown to the far end of the dojo—perhaps 10 or 12 feet from one corner to the other. It was totally unexpected, but for the first time, I truly felt the extension of the energy. It was like an unending throw, where you feel as though you are flying through the air for a prolonged moment, and even after landing, you continue to feel the technique and Sensei's presence holding you down.

Zanshin, meaning "lingering mind" or "remaining mind," is a concept deeply rooted in Japanese culture and martial arts. It refers to a state of mind in which a person remains vigilant and aware, even after completing an action. This state is important not only in combat but also in everyday life, as it enables individuals to remain present and focused even after accomplishing a task.

 

MY JOURNEY WITH MASTERS OF AIKI - 6

 

“When Fighting One Thousand, Think of One.”

Realisation of life comes in an instant. It is not always born from prolonged thought processes or intense focus. Of course, these are essential qualities and necessary for mastery, but reality often flashes before us in the blink of an eye.

During my training days, I was fortunate to learn from a Sensei from Japan who was stationed in my country for work and was kind enough to share his knowledge of Aikido with our young and enthusiastic team seeking a systemised path of learning. Sensei Shinji Yoshiura was a man of real discipline and a devoted follower of the fundamentals of Bushido.

One day, I was sitting in the front line listening to Sensei’s explanation of a technique.(I should mention that, after years of regular practice, I had earned the title of senior practitioner ,Sempai.) In a parallel hall, another class was practising Judo. For some reason, my eyes briefly shifted to the right and then immediately back to Sensei. It could only have been for a fraction of a second.

The next thing I heard was, “Guru San! Please explain what I just said now.” The stern voice of my Sensei cut through the room. Fortunately, I managed to explain the essence of his teaching. But what came next was the realisation.

“Practice Is Here… Not There.”

Sensei’s awareness extended across every single student. Even the slightest movement of an eye that caused distraction was noticed. I was awestruck. At the same time, it became the moment I began to understand the art of unwavering attention and awareness. Was this connected to collective consciousness, or perhaps to the famous saying that I have always closely related to:

“WHEN FIGHTING ONE THOUSAND, THINK OF ONE.”

In martial arts and modern philosophy, this describes intense focus. It perfectly reflects the traditional samurai belief that the mind should never be overwhelmed by the chaos of the battlefield. By focusing only on the singular opponent directly in front of you or the one task at hand, a warrior maintains clarity.

“WHEN ENGAGING WITH ONE, THINK OF A THOUSAND.”

If you hold a thousand men in your mind, your spirit will not be daunted. Even if the enemy stands in thousands, fulfilment lies in standing against them with the determination to cut through them all, one by one, beginning from one end.

Grounded in the Now - Aiki the Mastery of Presence

In a forest, a pregnant deer is about to give birth to a baby. It finds a remote grass field nearby a river and slowly goes there thinking it would be safe. As she moves slowly, she gets labour pain.

At the same moment, dark clouds gather around that area and lightning starts a forest fire. Turning left, she sees a hunter who is aiming an arrow from a distance. As she tries to move towards right, she spots a hungry lion approaching towards her.

What can the pregnant deer do, as she is already under labour pain..?

What do you think will happen..?

Will the deer survive..?

Will it give birth to a fawn..?

Will the fawn survive...?

OR

Will everything be burnt by the forest fire...?

Can the deer go left..? No, the hunter's arrow is pointing at her.

Can she go right...? No, the hungry male lion is approaching her.

Can she move up..? No, there the forest is on fire.

Can she move down..? No, that is where the fierce river is.

Answer: She does nothing. She just focuses on giving birth to a new LIFE..

The sequence of events that happens at that fraction of a second (moment) are as follows:

In a spur of MOMENT, a lightning strikes, and blinds the eyes of the hunter...!

At that MOMENT, he releases the arrow missing and zipping past the deer...!

At that MOMENT, the arrow hits and injures the lion badly...!

At that MOMENT, it starts to rain heavily and puts out the forest fire...!

At that next MOMENT, the deer gives birth to a healthy fawn...!

In our life too, there are MOMENTS of CHOICE when we all have to deal with negative thoughts from all sides. Some thoughts are so powerful they overcome us, and make us clueless.

Anything can happen in a MOMENT in this life. If you are religious, superstitious, atheist, agnostic or whatever, you can attribute this MOMENT to divine intervention, faith, sudden luck, serendipity, coincidence, karma, or a simple 'I just don't know'...!

The priority of the deer, in that given moment, was simply giving birth to a baby, because LIFE IS PRECIOUS...!

In future, may you always be inspired to have a focused positive insight, oblivious of all imaginary, negative probabilities.

"LIFE is Flowing Like a River

With Unexpected TURNS,

May be GOOD,

May be BAD...

Learn to enjoy Each Turn bcoz, these Turns...

Never RE-TURN."

“Grounded In The Now” reflects one of the deepest principles within Aikido — the mastery of presence. In Aikido, conflict is not defeated through aggression, but transformed through awareness, balance, timing, and harmony with the energy of the moment. The practitioner does not resist life; they enter it fully.

The phrase becomes an internal philosophy of centred consciousness. The past no longer dictates identity, and the future no longer controls emotion. Like an Aikido practitioner remaining stable while energy moves around them, the individual learns to stand calmly within uncertainty without losing inner alignment.

Aikido teaches that force against force creates destruction, while grounded awareness creates redirection and transformation. “Grounded In The Now” therefore becomes the art of psychological balance — the ability to remain rooted while emotions, pressures, and external chaos attempt to pull the mind away from centre.

The internal narrative is not about becoming stronger than the world, but becoming so internally aligned that the world no longer destabilises the self. Presence becomes power. Stillness becomes movement. Calm becomes strategy.

The warrior in Aikido does not seek domination; they seek unity between mind, body, breath, and action. In the same way, “Grounded In The Now” symbolises a human being who no longer lives reactively, but consciously — responding with clarity rather than impulse.

It is the philosophy of silent mastery:
To move without panic.
To act without fear.
To remain centred while life shifts around you.

To become unshaken because you are fully present.