






- You and your friends think a group hug involves flipping out of it.
- You choose your job based on if it interferes with your training time
- You wear your dogi to work.
- You hear someone say broken and you think they said bokken.
- There are nearly 100 portraits of O-Sensei in your bedroom
- Every morning before breakfast you repeat basic moves
- You reply to controversy with "Oh yeah, Grab my wrist!!!"
- See a big hall and make decide forward rolls would get you through it quicker.
- You don't just open a door -- you extend into it from your center
- The Aikido dreams start.
- You find yourself with an irresistible urge to bow every time you enter or exit a room.
- The smell of rancid sweat has become oddly unnoticeable to you.
- You immediately stop what you're doing whenever you hear someone clap their hands
- You no longer grip anything with your index fingers
- You meet an attractive person and your first thought is "Wouldn't they look nice taking ukemi?"
- When you see a straight wooden stick, such as a broken broom handle, you automatically refer to it as a jo.
- You blurt out "Osu!" when you're asked to do something at home, or at work.
-You find yourself "blending with and redirecting" your cat when it tries to jump onto your lap uninvited
- You wonder how you would flip someone in an elevator.
Adapted from a thread on http://www.aikiweb.com/forums/
In the dojo the beginner rushes to learn. The teacher rushes to teach. The Aikido eludes us. To sincerely look within one technique would reveal the secrets of all the teachers who walked the way. Then why do we hunger so feverishly for the new? If we approach fishing in this manner all becomes clear. You bring all your tackle to the rivers edge. You carefully fasten and bait your hook. You nestle into your favourite spot and cast your line with great expectations. Yet as your line reaches but inches from the waters surface you reel it in. You gather your tackle, move to another spot and start again.
How elusive the fish you cry!
Peter Koussoulis