Featured Dojo-cho, March 2006

Miles Kessler, 4th Dan
Tel Aviv Group, Tel Aviv, Israel
Division 1

I started aikido in 1985 in Dallas, Texas with the late Bill Sosa sensei. In 1989, following my childhood dream to live and train with the masters in Japan, I moved to Iwama to train with the late Morihiro Saito Sensei. I lived in the dojo for my first year there, serving and training as “uchi-deshi”, and after I moved into a small house about fifteen minutes from the dojo. I stayed in Iwama for a total of 8 years, dedicating myself to daily training. This was a very significant period for me as it formed the foundation of my aikido and opened my mind to a different culture and views. It was a wonderful 8-year adventure that shaped my life in many ways.
I started teaching aikido in ‘94 while I was still living in Japan. In addition to training full time I was teaching two classes a week in the nearby city of Mito. This was an extremely beneficial way to gain experience in teaching because I had a daily reference with Saito Sensei and his son Hitohiro Sensei. In ’95 I began leading seminars and since leaving Japan in ’97 I’ve conducted yearly international seminar tours. After leaving Japan I took up a fairly intensive commitment to meditation practice. I spent the years from ’97 to ’05 practicing meditation for part of the year in Burma and Nepal, and part of the year teaching aikido in Europe, the U.S. and the Middle East. In 2005 I settled in Israel and started my own aikido group in Tel Aviv.

Looking back at how the path of development unfolded in aikido, there were many “memorable experiences” that defined the way. Coming into contact with my teachers, facing the need to question my beliefs and identifications, being confronted with limitations and challenged to grow beyond, the deep bonds of friendship that were forged with those whom which I shared the path, the many failures, successes, set backs and breakthroughs. It continues to be an endless process of “memorable experiences”.
But perhaps the most memorable “aikido experience” happened outside of aikido and it was an encounter that proved to be a turning point both in my life, as well as in my relationship to aikido.

My most Memorable "Aikido" Experience
When I left Japan in 1997 I was told by Saito Sensei to return to the U.S. and start teaching. In many ways I was ready for this commitment. I had been training intensively in Iwama for 8 years, was in my mid-thirties, had gotten my 4th dan, spoke fluent Japanese and was translating for sensei, learned much about Japanese culture and I had been teaching a couple of classes a week for 3 years. I had achieved much and a considerable amount of my identity was built on these “accomplishments”. I took security in this, but I couldn’t deny that in all this “development” something wasn’t being touched. There was something about my relationship to aikido I couldn’t resolve and deep down I knew that I wasn’t finding what I was really looking for. I felt something was missing and I could no longer deny it. I decided to travel for a year to do spiritual practices and “seek” for something deeper.
I soon found my way to Burma to practice vipassana meditation with Sayadaw U Pandita. I was aware of his high reputation and I wanted to train with the best. Even though I was quite sure I wanted to commit to a formal practice I was still clinging to my own ideas about aikido being a “spiritual path” and I managed to bring this baggage with me. I did this by planning my visit to Burma to coincide with an aikido seminar that a Japanese teacher friend of mine was leading. My plan was to do a 10-day retreat, then the one-week aikido seminar, followed by another 10-day retreat. Spiritual practice and aikido practice. I had arranged things nicely so I could have my cake and eat it too.
Upon arriving at the meditation center I had to wait several hours before being interviewed by Sayadaw U Pandita. Having learned much about discipline and proper etiquette while living in Japan I did my best to showcase these qualities to U Pandita. I was sure that he would be impressed. After all, who wouldn’t.
I was immediately taken by his strong presence that dominated the space of the room. I also had an uneasy sense that he saw right through me. There was an immediate feeling of trust in him, while at the same time insecurity hit me in a very unsettling way. I did my best to make a favorable impression and after many questions U Pandita agreed to allow me to stay and practice on “probation”. I made a feeble attempt to explain that I would leave in 10 days to attend the Aikido seminar for a week and then I’d come back for another ten days to practice. This was somehow lost in the translation and I didn’t want to press my luck. I was in.
During the next ten days of practice I received daily interviews and talks with U Pandita. I soon realized the source of his reputation. Here was the master I had been seeking my whole life. Having been a monk for over 70 years and a meditation teacher for 50, his wisdom and skillful guidance was like nothing I had ever encountered before. But even more impressive was his presence as a warrior. I had never experienced in another such complete fearlessness, confidence, uncompromising determination and skill in teaching. The irony didn’t escape. I spent much of my life seeking the martial arts for the warrior ideal. Here I was meeting it in a simple monk. 
U Pandita taught that 100% of all the suffering in the world had its source in the mind. The world, he said, is full of external enemies, but it is the internal enemies that are far more dangerous. These enemies come in the form of mental impurities and the purification of the mind is where all true battles must be fought. In this he was uncompromising and relentless. And he would be brutally direct when necessary.
I had finally found the teacher I wanted to be practicing with, the practice I wanted to be doing and the place I wanted to be practicing. This was it...I just had to go and attend an aikido seminar and then I’d be right back.
So after the first ten days as I was leaving I was told, much to my surprise, that I couldn’t come back. Of course there must have been some misunderstanding. I insisted on meeting with U Pandita to explain my situation and get permission to return. I was confident I could clear this up. 
After a 3-hour wait I was finally taken to see U Pandita as he was overseeing the unloading of a new Buddha statue that was being delivered to the monastery. He gave me half of his attention and asked what I wanted. I explained my situation with the aikido seminar and that I would be back in a week for more practice. He told me that I had done well but I couldn’t come back until the next time I was in Burma. I consented that I hadn’t planned things well and apologized for this. I told him I really wanted to come back in a week. He wasn’t moved by my display of sincerity.
I was beginning to feel that my excuse for leaving was weak. But this was aikido. Surely under the circumstances he would understand. I told him I wasn’t planning another trip to Burma and I wanted to meditate more on this trip. He responded with a glance and silence. My confidence was beginning to shake and it felt like I was sliding further out onto thin ice…all I could do was to keep sliding.
I explained that the aikido seminar was planned and I had already committed to going. Once again U Pandita asked what was aikido, and somehow it was translated as a “martial art”. There was something about the way he looked at me. He was giving me all the rope I wanted. I was methodically wrapping it around my neck. I was choosing to leave a 2,500 year-old practice for purifying the mind to go practice a “martial art”. The ice began to crack.
Then turning on me with full presence, U Pandita looked me in the eye and in English said, “When you have spiritual protection you don’t need martial protection”.
It is hard to describe the effect these words had on me at the time. Up until then I had invested many years in the belief that aikido was a “spiritual” martial art. O Sensei was proof of this. I loved the martial training and had dedicated my life to its perfection. I assumed that it would naturally lead me to the spiritual if I “just kept training”. I was attached to the martial and I wasn’t willing to let it go to move into the spiritual. I was clinging to years of investment and identification and it was holding me back. Then came the words:

“When you have spiritual protection you don’t need martial protection”.

The house of cards collapsed. My knees became week and the ground was suddenly unstable. In a moment I was stripped of my identity. I was totally disoriented and was left with nothing to hold on to. Being at a complete loss for what to do, I grasped for the only thing left. I gave in and told U Pandita I wouldn’t go to the seminar. With tears in my eyes I begged him to let me stay and practice. He then did something I hadn’t conceived as possible. He told me “No” and sent me away like a schoolboy.
I took my backpack and stumbled out of the monastery in a daze. A half hour later I was sitting in a Japanese restaurant in downtown Rangoon drinking a beer with my Japanese friend as he told me how great the seminar was going to be. It wasn’t.
Before leaving Burma I stopped by the monastery to ask if I could return to practice. U Pandita gave his permission and it was the beginning of a relationship that continues to this day. My “year of travel” turned into 8 and I spent the next several years returning to Burma for meditation retreats.

Why was this my “most memorable aikido experience”? This was the point that the false ideas I had built about aikido were unpleasantly exposed. I was sure of aikido’s spiritual depth but I was looking for it in the wrong place. The spiritual is not to be found in the physical, nor does it exist in the martial. It can be expressed in these realms but its source is beyond. My very attachment to “aikido” prevented me from realizing this.
It was at this point that aikido completely lost its importance. It was a hard lesson, but it had to happen. Because it was only then that aikido’s true value began to emerge.
And it happened with the words of a simple monk:

“When you have spiritual protection you don’t need martial protection”.