Monday, December 20, 2010

the virtue of axes


It's occurred to me in the past weeks that the essence of clear dancing is contained in the concept of axes. There are two axes in the body, corresponding to our two feet. Clear dancing, clear rhythms, clear leads, and clear follows occur when we are completely over one of these two axes. Sounds fairly simple to stand on one foot, but I estimate that over 99% of the dancers I watch do not get over one foot before switching weight. I'm included in the majority.

What this means is our lives are one big jumble. Where are we? It's hard to tell - in fact, it's hard to even see the music in our movement. Music is regular, but the split-weight shuffle that we're all out there performing cannot be regular. It can't be precise. It can't ever really be beautiful. To reduce dance down to it's most fundamental aspects leaves one with 1) clear movements of your weight, 2) posture, 3) timing. At least these are the three that I have discovered.

I found Musashi in my dad's garage. It's nice to start reading it again for the third time. The characters have become familiar. I picked up Iron John again too. Plato. Emerson. Buffett. Liar's Poker. Tao. mmm.

On the topic of axes, it's clear to me that the most powerful thing in the world is to be fully present. Watch a few clips of Morihei Ueshiba and you will realize. Just watch. What is it that prevents us all from being present? I don't understand. To sit; to simply sit. To eat. To sleep. To dance. All this is merely falling - it's accidental. We miss the heart of it. What is an action if not done with intention? It's nothing. We might as well push some dirt around. We tell ourselves it is something, because everyone around us is doing the same. We all can't be wrong. Right?...

To act without intention is natural. We've all learned it, and it is how we live. But there must be something more. I watch Morihei, and I cannot see when he overtakes his opponent. At what moment did it happen? There is a story about a man who came to O-sensei planning to attack him as he bowed. Morihei stared the man down silently for a prolonged period of time. The students did not know what to make of this. Why were these two men not bowing? What sort of thing was going on as they watched each other? Suddenly the would-be attacker bowed very long, and Morihei returned the gesture. The man understood that he sat before a man with no openings.

What does that even mean? No slippage? To simply be present. Morihei used to say that all of Aikido could be learned in 6 months. He would reprimand his young students for developing their strength. He would lament that when he turned to look back there was no one on the path behind him. What is this martial art called Aikido? What is this thing called perfection? It's not training - it doesn't come from that, though training is useful. Where does it come from? What is a man with no openings? Is he even a man? What is the silence of the moment? What is a swing out? What is an axis? What is this corn on my foot? Why why why why?

It's hard to get along without a farmer's market. Good lord, where are my eggs and mushrooms? What is this CAFO produced flesh? It looks like it's rotting. I saw a table of rotting food, placed out like a feast. Treated like a feast. We're missing it. The silence of the moment. Do you know the moon is eclipsing now? huh, Jonathan? Do you?