Entering: Reflections on a
Misaligned Front Door
Inryoku Volume 6 Issue 4
By Josh Paul Sensei, AOSB Head Instructor
The dojo’s door is fixed! It was literally falling off the hinges. And it would stick to various degrees depending on the temperature and humidity. Some days it was nearly impossible to open. Each time it was opened and closed I worried it would be the last, and new doors are expensive. Really expensive. Fortunately, dojo member Greg Squared is a talented woodworker and owns Great Circles Woodworking. He generously showed up with saws and tools, removed the door, sawed an ⅛ of an inch off the bottom of the door, reattached the hinges, and rehung the door. The door now moves so smoothly that people keep accidentally slamming it closed.
I didn’t document the door’s problems or the repairs with photos or videos. It seemed too mundane to bother with. I regret not doing so. I miss the broken door, despite the anxiety it caused. I don’t miss the scrapping, slamming, and wall-rattling sounds that it produced. I miss watching how people interacted with it, and what it potentially revealed about their aikido.
In nice weather, I keep the door open. To keep the bugs out, I hang a magnetic screen door with velcro. This poses an obstacle, too. People face these obstacles—the misaligned door and the screen—in different ways, and how they interact with these conflicts is often reflective of how they interact with the challenges of training. Training partners, exams, kata, demonstrations…these things are all obstacles to be negotiated. They are all doors to pass through.
At the first sign of resistance from the door, some people simply gave up and turned to leave. Others repeated the same set of actions hoping they would work on a second, third, or fourth repetition. Others banged on the door and complained, or called me for help, or just waited for someone else to open it.
Likewise, some people assume that the screen is a barrier denying them permission to enter. They either turn to leave or wait for someone to invite them through. Some people realize they can simply walk through the screen, whereas others conclude the best solution is to tear the entire thing off the doorframe.
When you come to a door, do you expect the knob to turn easily and to walk through without resistance? Do you expect the same when doing ikkyo? And when you meet resistance, how do you respond? Do you give up? Wait for the instructor to fix it for you? Blame the uke? Sucker punch your partner? Or do you breathe, assess, and try to resolve the conflict?
Engaging with and negotiating conflict is at the core of aikido practice. O’sensei tells us that “to control aggression without inflicting injury is the Art of Peace.” The practice of negotiating conflict permeates all aspects of life, and comes in many forms. Yes, there are physical conflicts, but there are also small and annoying forms of conflict—like a broken door—that can teach us about our aikido and ourselves. Aikido is not an activity we do 1-2 hours per week. It is a lifestyle that requires constant practice, assessment, and refinement.