Archives de catégorie : IT


Zanshin, a natural state of the body

By Régis Soavi

If we translate Zanshin by « sustaining attention after a fight or after a technique », even if we remain within the martial tradition we remain short of its profound meaning.

Tenshin: the heart of heaven

In the term Zanshin there are two Kanji: 残 (càn or zan), what remains, the residue, and 心 (Shin or Kokoro). If the meaning of the latter is known by all Aikidokas, it still seems to me necessary to specify its value because it corresponds to what we can rely upon to find the path towards fullness in life. For Itsuo Tsuda Senseï, a phrase reflected and animated the practices he proposed, both Aikido and Katsugen undo. This phrase – Tenshin  – he had translated it by « the heart of pure heaven ». He writes: « The word kokoro which I translated by ‘heart’ has the same etymology as the latter: the central organ of the circulatory system. Yet, its acceptation is totally different. The ‘heart’ in French is rather the feeling, while the kokoro in Japanese is neither quite the feeling, nor the spirit, nor the thought. It is something we feel inside ourselves, it rather comes close to the English mind. If we translate it by mental or psychic, it will again be different. The search for a kokoro that remains imperturbable before an imminent danger, which stays calm in any circumstances, is the key aim imposed on those who attempt to achieve perfection, in the craft of weapons. »(1) « Your spirit has to be free from any thought, good or bad. This state of soul is compared to pure Heaven – Tenshin »

Aikido: re-learning freedom

As soon as we step upon the Tatami floor, concentration arises. A simple salute towards the Tokonoma suffices for our body to react, to leave this state that could be described as day-to-day to enter the very particular state of Zanshin. It is fundamentally a natural state, a state where our biological animality (in the best sense of the word) arises again. All the tradition that we have been given by O Sensei and that has been transmitted to us by his direct student Tsuda Sensei is essential to understand this. It is in the way we perform exercises such as the vibration of the soul, the rowing exercise and many others – often wrongly equated with a warm-up – that we become aware of their importance. It is all the attention given to breathing that allows us to sense, at the physiological level, the circulation of Ki and that summons us back towards this state of concentration that Zanshin is. All this first part of an ordinary session in our school has been designed to bring us, to take us beyond ourselves, beyond what we have quite often become – an ordinary fellow of our society. Immediately, if we are attentive enough, we can feel its effects. We move on the Tatamis in a profoundly different way, what we feel, our perception of the other, of others, becomes at the same time sharper and more pronounced, wider and lighter. It is day after day, by immersing into this atmosphere, that we can both relearn the freedom of moving, a first step towards inner freedom, and feel our space, our spaces. Recovering the sensation of how the forces that surround us are positioned, discovering or rediscovering that nothing is finished, nor concluded, but that everything is connected, that Zanshin is a moment of an eternity that runs its course in all directions.

Daily life: an eye-opener

Without us being aware of it, without us acting in a voluntary manner, our body constantly reacts to the many aggressions from our environment that we undergo everyday. Whether these attacks come from bacteria, viruses or more simply the quality of our nutrition, our body responds in an adequate manner thanks to its immune system, its digestive system or any other system according to the dysfunction at stake. The body’s response, if the terrain is good, if our immune system is well awake for instance, is not limited to a few skirmishes here and there, the mobilization of the body is total and the fight can sometimes be of great violence. Once the fight is over the body does not put itself at rest immediately, it does not go back to sleep once the danger has gone (something our mental, on the contrary, would have perfectly admitted). Our involuntary system does not loosen its attention, eliminating up to the last bacterium, to the last virus or immobilizing, blocking them so that they become harmless. And even then it is not over yet, the body remains vigilant, keeping an eye on everything that happens, serene but attentive to the least movement of the aggressors, whatever and whoever they are. This spirit is the state of the natural and involuntary Zanshin of a body that reacts healthily and therefore the state of the exact opposite of an apathetic body. When all is really over, life somehow resumes its natural course. It is essential to facilitate that this work inside our body can be done with complete peace of mind without being frightened by the slightest pain or disturbing reaction. For who approaches for the first time a martial art – and in particular Aikido –, the aims are often many, and range from the need of moving to that of defending oneself, through all possible variants, real or fantasized. The discovery of Zanshin constitutes an integral part of Aikido teaching, and its deep understanding as well as its extension to our entire life sphere brings a greater tranquility when facing unpredictable events and allows one to live every day more fully. For it is eventually in day-to-day life that the usefulness of the practice can be experienced and appraised. Without being utilitarian it is always pleasant to see and verify what it brings us in our daily life. There cannot be real attention, concentration, nor pleasure in the achievement of some work without – even though we are not aware of it – the state of presence that we call Zanshin.

Circles in water

When the child throws a stone into the so peaceful water of a little pond, s/he stays watching the concentric circles s/he has created that spread and extend from the center. If s/he has kept her/his profound nature, if it has not been destroyed by adults, parents, educators or teachers, who attempt to explain her/him the scientific rationale beyond the phenomenon or who, pressed for their so precious time, give little importance indeed to this little insignificant game, then, immobile, contemplative but deeply concentrated, the child waits until the circles fade away, until their initial liveliness, while lessening more and more, becomes no longer recognizable, becomes one with the natural movement of the simmering water, slightly nudged by the wind. This so precious moment is also Zanshin, it is an instant that could even be considered as sacred, where the child’s Kokoro quietens down, when s/he recovers her/his primordial nature, her/his true nature.

School, or how to break this natural state

The entire school education aims to equip children with weapons for the future. Though the idea looks nice on paper, reality is completely different. The grading system, whether with figures (Translator’s note : In France, grades range from 0 to 10 or 20, letters are not in use.) or letters such as in the Anglo-Saxon tradition, generates fear, indeed anguish – always concern – and produces, in fact, more damage than benefits. In this case we do not work for the pleasure of discovering nor even for a concrete result but for a grade, an assessment, that are supposed to reflect our level in the system. Yet, for a century, countless pedagogy experts have denounced the harm done by this type of schooling system and mode of education. At the total opposite of the state of Zanshin one is waiting for the verdict, the result of the written exercise, test, or exam. Instead of developing the physical or intellectual capacities of the child, we transform her/him into a scared being or later a rebel who only aspires to get out of the system in which s/he is trapped, to breathe if only a little more freely. The damage is however not irremediable, this is also what our practice is for, reviving what should never have been abandoned nor destroyed.

Graduate first!

Who has never heard this sentence, that has now become a parental leitmotiv? Which parents have let their children follow the direction they had decided to take on their own, supporting them despite the general condemnation from their family or close circles? In France the new law4 making instruction mandatory from three to eighteen years old compels the parents, who sometimes chose home instruction because they became aware of the damage they have undergone in their own childhood, to still remain within the national education framework. To force their children to undergo exams and tests they have to pass, failing which they would have to be reintegrated in a state-approved school. How can we allow the child, the teenager, to discover, rediscover or preserve what s/he has always had and should never have lost: Zanshin, this state of concentration that remains beyond the act, this instinctive state that gives us pleasure, satisfaction, and strengthens our capacities by allowing them to benefit from the experience acquired in this moment thanks to this slight standstill where something remains suspended? The child, boy or girl, during this uncertain time, where anything can play out, escapes the world of social conventions, becomes strong, of this strength that no one will ever be able to deprive her/him of, s/he opens her/himself to an intelligence that only belongs to her/him and that is created by no doctrine or ideology.

Ai-uchi, ai-nuke

From Zanshin a world can be rebuilt if it was destroyed or simply damaged. In the Zen practice it is the spirit that remains or the spirit of the gesture that allows one to recover what has been lost, in Aikido it is not the fighting spirit that allows us to live in harmony but rather what is behind, in depth, and that breathes life into our action. Itsuo Tsuda Sensei tells us the story of this great 17th century master Sekiun Harigaya who had found inner peace. « After having been tormented for a long time by the uncertainty that prevails when facing an extreme situation, where no recall to any precedent can be used to justify ourselves, he found : ‘Defeating the weakest, being defeated by stronger than yourself, and mutually annihilating each other among equals, these are dead-end solutions.’ Even if we win time and time again, this is, according to him, only bestiality. Those are only wolf and tiger fights. One will always remain in relativity, in opposition. One has to get out of these to find the true path. How to get out of bestiality to find the true path? Especially in a situation where the result is not measured with scores. The accepted formula has been so far ai-uchi, mutual annihilation. When aiming to defeat the other, while trying to preserve our own integrity, we lose it all, because at the last moment fear takes over and paralyses us. In order to get out of this duality that torments us, we decide to die, abandoning all what we have. ‘When you get my skin, I’ll get your flesh. When you get my flesh, I’ll get your bones’, so goes the bravado formula. We still remain in bestiality. After long years of meditation, Sekiun finds his formula ai-nuke, to mutually overcome. The basis of this formula is the discovery of the kokoro, immutable, eternal, in which there is no annihilation of the opponent, but only respect of the other. This ai-nuke shows a position quite close to that of Master Ueshiba’s aikido. If one faces the other with no aggressivity, it is ai-nuke, but if one keeps the least aggressivity, it is ai-uchi. But how can one get empty of any aggressivity when one precisely is in a situation of agressivity where at risk of losing everything? This non-aggressivity, if it comes not from a moralist or a pacifist religious, but from someone who had experienced fifty-two real fights until the age of fifty, can have a completely different value. »(3) Zanshin lies at the heart of the problem, because it is about a presence to oneself as well as the other, without aggressivity, without expectation, without any search for any result. Zanshin is neither the end nor the beginning of a movement, it does not illustrate the power of one over an opponent, it is a time, an undefined space-time, but which gets concretely realized. Recovering the Kokoro from childhood, recovering concentration, the simple joy of feeling fully alive, no longer being satisfied with the superficial aspect of the survival that is imposed to us by society, this is the path that is proposed to us in Aikido. Even if this path demands from us rigor and determination, continuity and introspection, I have always felt and experienced it as easier than resignation, renunciation and hence disillusion or passivity.

Want to receive future articles? Subscribe to the newsletter :

Article by Régis Soavi published in Dragon Magazine (speciale Aikido n° 27) january2020.


1) Itsuo Tsuda, La voie des dieux [The Path of gods], Le Courrier du Livre, 1982, p.61.
2) Itsuo Tsuda, Cœur de ciel pur [The Heart of pure heaven], Le Courrier du Livre, 2014, p.91.
3) Itsuo Tsuda, La voie des dieux [The Path of gods], Le Courrier du Livre, 1982, p.63.

Photos credits: Bas Van Buuren, Sara Rossetti

Je vais redécouvrant la liberté

La recherche de la liberté intérieure dans la pratique de l’Aïkido et dans le Seitai.

Par Andrea Quartino

Les limitations de la liberté de mouvement sont en train de se relâcher, bien qu’avec des délais et des modalités encore incertains. Pour ceux qui pratiquent l’Aïkido dans un dojo de l’École Itsuo Tsuda le jour où l’on pourra recommencer à pratiquer semble lointain. Au-delà des avis différents sur les raisons de l’état d’urgence, les limitations décidées par les gouvernements ne devraient pas limiter la capacité de jugement. Et il est normal de maintenir un regard critique envers l’efficacité et les conséquences de telles mesures tout en les appliquant.
Haruchika Noguchi, fondateur du Seitai, pendant la seconde guerre mondiale du Japon, période durant laquelle les tendances plus fortement nationalistes et militaristes ont prévalu au point de bannir le mot “liberté”, ne se gênait pas pour en parler. Certes, il pouvait compter sur le fait d’avoir parmi ses clients plusieurs représentants de la classe dirigeante.
La fin de la guerre, pour l’Italie, le 25 avril 1945, fut un soulagement pour tous, autant que le fut la chute du fascisme, même pour ceux qui partageaient cette idéologie. Le même soulagement fut ressenti par beaucoup de japonais.2 Il ne s’agissait pas seulement du retour de la paix et de libertés plus ou moins formelles, mais aussi de la disparition d’un climat de tension continue, qui se respirait partout et auquel personne n’échappait. Toutes proportions gardées, et mis à part les perplexités suscitées par les métaphores guerrières utilisées par beaucoup pour parler de l’engagement dans la maitrise des contagions, les personnes ayant un minimum de sensibilité ne peuvent pas ne pas sentir à quel point tout et tout le monde est imprégné de méfiance et de peur, qu’elles soient provoquées par le virus ou par les sanctions prévues en cas de violation des règles. Une oppression très épaisse, nous serons nous aussi soulagés quand et si cela finira.

« Lorsque [Me Noguchi] entendit à la radio la cessation des hostilités, il se sentit tout d’un coup comme déchargé d’un lourd fardeau de ses épaules, et éprouva une détente insoupçonnée dans tout le corps.
Sa respiration s’approfondit, découvrant un fond de calme dans son esprit. Ce calme fit surgir en lui une énergie toute fraîche, et il sentit dans sa peau qu’un monde nouveau était en train de commencer.
– Pourquoi ai-je tellement parlé de la liberté pendant la guerre, se dit-il, ce n’était que des mots. Au contraire, j’ai été simplement figé dans mon attitude. Plus je m’efforçais de lutter contre la tendance, plus j’étais enfermé dans un cadre étroit de pensée, sans pouvoir respirer profondément. »3

Pourquoi cette liberté n’était-elle qu’un mot pour Noguchi? Avait-il changé d’avis sur la nature du régime durant la période de la guerre ? C’est peu probable, mais la question n’est pas là. Il s’agit de comprendre ce que nous voulons dire par liberté.

Itsuo Tsuda revient plusieurs fois dans ses livres sur l’idée de liberté

Pour Tsuda l’homme moderne « a livré de durs combats pour acquérir son droit d’Homme. Il a obtenu des libertés et continue de lutter pour en acquérir d’autres. Mais un jour il découvre que ces libertés ne couvrent que des conditions matérielles, extérieures à lui. »4 Donc souvent les êtres humains luttent pour des libertés au pluriel, qui sont conditionnelle « La fixation des idées qui nous oriente dans l’organisation de la vie, peut aussi se retourner contre nous en nous conduisant dans des contraintes imprévisibles. La liberté devient une fixation qui nous ligote. Plus on a la liberté, moins on se sent libre. La liberté est un mythe.
On lutte contre les contraintes pour acquérir la liberté. La liberté acquise ne reste pas sans provoquer d’autres contraintes. Il ne semble pas y avoir de solutions finales. Car la liberté que nous cherchons est avant tout une liberté conditionnelle. On n’a pas l’idée d’une liberté absolue, sans condition. »5
Liberté conditionnelle, serait presque un oxymore, si ce n’était que cette locution est utilisée dans le langage juridique. Nous sommes conditionnés par le temps linéaire des montres, par l’organisation sociale du travail et par le marché qui nous sollicite, à coups de techniques publicitaires toujours plus sophistiquées et envahissantes, à satisfaire des besoins, induits pour la plupart. Parmi les offres innombrables, qu’on peut trouver sur internet, ou ailleurs, « nous trouvons tout, sauf le désir. […] Nous avons la liberté de choisir, certes, mais il s’agit d’une liberté négative : celle d’accepter ou de rejeter l’offre. Quant à la liberté positive, celle de créer, nous n’avons ni l’intuition ni la continuité pour en jouir. »6

Maître Tsuda et Maître Noguchi
Maître Tsuda et Maître Noguchi

Tsuda nous indique la possibilité de “lâcher prise” sur tout ce qui est liberté apparente, choix qui nous est imposé par le marché, bien de consommation, commercialisable, même si cela est difficile pour l’homme civilisé, qui a peur de tout perdre si il renonce à sa possessivité. En lâchant prise, on peut « voir enfin que Tout est à nous ; le ciel, la terre, le soleil, les monts et rivières, sans qu’il y ait besoin de les mettre tous dans notre poche. » Il peut naître en nous « l’envie de connaître la vraie liberté.
Aucun apport extérieur, argent, honneur, pouvoir, ne peut nous procurer la vraie Liberté, car celle-ci est une sensation intérieure qui ne dépend d’aucune condition matérielle ou objective. On peut se sentir libre dans la pire des contraintes aussi bien que prisonnier au comble du bonheur. »7
Le désir profond d’une autre liberté s’éveille avec une conviction intérieure, qu’en réalité nous redécouvrons car elle est en tout être humain dès l’origine, dès la conception. Mais cette redécouverte est impossible tant qu’on reste dans la “voie de l’acquisition” qui est la norme dans notre société, dans laquelle « toutes ces accumulations pèsent lourd sur notre destin.
Dans la voie du dépouillement, on se dirige dans le sens diamétralement opposé. On se débarrasse petit à petit de tout ce qui est inutile à la vie. On se sent de plus en plus libre, car on ne s’impose plus d’interdits ou de règles pour bien vivre. On vit, simplement, sans être tiraillé par de fausses idées.
On n’a pas besoin d’être anti-social ou anarchiste pour se sentir libre. La libération ne nécessite point la destruction. La liberté ne dépend pas du conditionnement, de l’environnement ou de la situation. La liberté est une chose toute personnelle. Elle surgit de la conviction profonde de l’individu. Cette conviction est une chose naturelle qui existe chez tous les hommes à l’origine. Ce n’est pas un produit fabriqué de toutes pièces après coup. Mais elle restera voilée tant qu’on vit dans un climat de dépendance. Ce n’est pas la peine, dit Noguchi, d’aider les gens qui ne veulent pas se mettre debout eux-mêmes. Si on les lâche, ils retombent. »8

Ce fut la conscience de ce fait qui porta Noguchi, quand il trouva une autre liberté, une respiration et un calme plus profonds à la conclusion de la seconde guerre mondiale, à renoncer à la thérapeutique, pour se dédier au réveil des personnes qui permet à chacun de redécouvrir sa propre liberté intérieure à sa manière et dans les temps qui lui conviennent.

De quelle manière la pratique d’arts comme l’Aïkido et le Katsugen undo peuvent-ils nous guider dans la redécouverte de notre liberté individuelle?

Nous pouvons trouver une réponse dans les propos du Maître de Taichi Gu Meisheng:

«Le « vrai naturel » ne peut s’acquérir qu’au prix d’une longue pratique assidue…êtes-vous comme un enfant ? Car seul l’enfant est spontanément à la fois naturel et libre. Effectivement, si vous n’êtes pas redevenu comme un enfant, vous ne pouvez être ni libre ni naturel. […] Habituellement pour un homme ordinaire, le corps est une entrave et non une force motrice dans laquelle on peut puiser un élan spirituel. Pourtant grâce à un entraînement très long associé à une pratique assidue et rigoureuse, on arrive à libérer cet homme ordinaire pour le laisser agir selon une spontanéité merveilleuse et créatrice. Alors ni le corps, ni le monde extérieur, ni les multiples liens qui l’enchaînent au monde ne constituent plus pour lui un obstacle. Cette première sensation de liberté, je l’ai perçu en 1970 alors que j’étais en prison, et cette liberté grandissait progressivement au cours de ma captivité. »9

Les propos de Me Gu, qui fut incarcéré au cours de la révolution culturelle chinoise, sont valables pour le Taichi comme pour les pratiques de l’Aïkido et du Katsugen undo e rappellent ceux de Me Tsuda quand il dit que l’on peut être libres dans la plus grande contrainte possible. Et si la contrainte dans laquelle nous vivons aujourd’hui n’est pas celle d’une prison, c’est tout de même l’occasion de redécouvrir notre liberté intérieure, notamment en nous donnant la possibilité de pratiquer en solitaire, lorsqu’il n’y a pas de dojo à disposition. Une telle découverte n’est pas l’apanage exclusif de grands maîtres, comme Me Gu, Me Noguchi ou Me Tsuda, et pour autant que ce soit une recherche individuelle que l’on fait dans la continuité de la pratique, nous pouvons ici et maintenant commencer à être libres en tant qu’êtres humains, car “être libres rend les autres libres.” 10

Andrea Quartino


1. Le titre fait référence au passage de La divine comédie de Dante Alighieri « Il va cherchant la liberté », in originale « Libertà va cercando ».
2. Itsuo Tsuda, Coeur de ciel pur (oeuvre posthume à partir d’inédits), Le Courrier du Livre, 2014, p.169. Voir aussi Itsuo Tsuda. Calligraphies de printemps, Yume Editions, 2017, p.399.
3. Itsuo Tsuda, Un, Le Courrier du Livre, 2014, p.69. Dans les pages suivantes il est dit « un homme vraiment libre ne discute pas de liberté, un homme en bonne santé ne pense pas à la santé. » Les vers du poète chinois Bai Juyi semblent y résonner: « Ceux qui parlent ne savent pas. Ceux qui savent, ne parlent pas. » vers que Tsuda reprit aussi dans l’une de ses calligraphies. Voir Itsuo Tsuda. Calligraphies de printemps, Yume Editions, 2017, p.284, et aussi Itsuo Tsuda, La voie des dieux, Le Courrier du Livre, 2014, p.51-52.
4. Itsuo Tsuda, Le Non-Faire, Le Courrier du Livre, 2016, p.15.
5. Itsuo Tsuda, Un, op. cit., pag. 24.
6. Itsuo Tsuda, La science du particulier, Le Courrier du Livre, 1976, p.72
7. Itsuo Tsuda, Le dialogue du silence, Le Courrier du Livre, 1979 p.73
8. Itsuo Tsuda, Un, op. cit., pag. 49.
9. La vision du Dao du professeur Gu Meisheng. Vidéo disponible :
10. Manon Soavi, être libre rend les autres libre. Vidéo disponible sur:

Créer les conditions

J’écrivais récemment dans un article pour le magazine Dragon Hors-série Aïkido que « Le Dojo lui-même est un lieu hors du temps social, hors de l’époque, indifférent à la localisation géographique ». Aujourd’hui où tous les dojos de notre École, comme ceux d’une bonne partie du monde, sont fermés, nous nous retrouvons sans ces espaces.

Nous pouvons pratiquer à la maison mais ce n’est pas toujours facile car tout nous rattrape quand nous essayons de pratiquer chez nous : le temps social, l’époque, notre lieu géographique. Nous nous retrouvons entourés de nos meubles, à côté du téléphone, pas loin des enfants ou du chien, dans l’espace réduit d’un appartement parisien ou dans une vaste étendue à la campagne. Nous nous y sentons peut-être trop à l’étroit ou au contraire perdus dans trop d’espace vide. Tout nous rappelle notre quotidien, et il peut devenir très difficile de s’abstraire alors de ce contexte qui nous entoure. C’est bien pour cela que l’existence des dojos est si importante surtout dans nos premières années de pratique.

Parfois les pratiquants ont aménagé chez eux un espace pour pratiquer. Mettre une calligraphie, quelques tatamis, peut nous aider à nous mettre dans l’ambiance, à couper avec notre environnement quotidien. Pour certains ce sera juste un tapis, pour d’autres un ou deux tatamis dans le salon, dégagés des jouets éparpillés des enfants pour l’occasion. D’autres encore aménageront un grenier ou un coin dans la chambre. La seule chose qui importe, ce n’est pas le respect d’une idée ou une imitation de « mini-dojo », mais la possibilité pour nous de manifester un espace et un temps pour notre pratique.

Habituellement cela sert aux pratiquants quand ils ne peuvent pas aller au dojo pour diverses raisons. Ils y pratiquent le mouvement individuel (Katsugen Undo), la pratique respiratoire de l’Aïkido ou quelques kata d’armes. Tout dépend des personnes, des besoins et des moments.

Bien entendu, à terme, il est possible de faire abstraction du contexte quel qu’il soit. Si notre capacité de concentration le permet, il est possible de pratiquer au milieu du bruit, à côté d’un enfant qui joue aux Légo, ou autre. L’histoire humaine est riche d’exemples de personnes ayant traversé de grandes épreuves tout en maintenant leur art, leurs pratiques. La calligraphe Li Guoxiang, par exemple, pratiqua durant dix ans la calligraphie en traçant avec de l’eau sur des pierres car rien d’autre ne lui était accessible pour pratiquer son art(1). Maître Gu Meisheng raconte également avoir découvert la liberté intérieure sans limite dans les geôles chinoises durant la Révolution culturelle.

Pour autant je crois qu’ils ont apprécié d’avoir de l’encre, un pinceau et la liberté quand cela fut possible !

Toute proportion gardée, nous retrouverons avec plaisir le calme et l’ambiance concentrée des dojos dès que possible. En cette période de confinement où il devient plus critique pour chacun de maintenir une pratique quotidienne, ou du moins régulière, si vous en avez besoin n’hésitez pas à dégager un espace, même minimum, pour vous recentrer, pour prendre ce temps de pratique.

Sur la page Facebook de l’École Itsuo Tsuda, plusieurs membres ont partagé leurs espaces de pratiques, un aperçu à la fin de l’article  ⇓ ⇓⇓

Afin de nourrir notre démarche, nous créons également une chaîne de podcast audio où nous partagerons des lectures à haute voix de chapitres issus des livres de Itsuo Tsuda. Cela pourra vous accompagner dans la voiture, dans le métro, en faisant la cuisine ou le ménage… Une autre façon de découvrir, redécouvrir ces œuvres. Rdv sur la chaîne Soundcloud ou sur Youtube. Le premier enregistrement est ici :

Manon Soavi

Les pratiquants partagent leurs home-dojo



Manon Soavi

  1. Fabienne Verdier Passagère du silence p.284 Albin Michel

La force vitale

Par Régis Soavi

Pourquoi parler de la force vitale alors que le sujet semble démodé (il est aujourd’hui considéré comme une sorte de résidu idéologique des années soixante), ou reste apparemment le domaine privilégié d’une petite quantité de personnes à la recherche d’effets mystérieux ?

Si la force physique reste pour de nombreuses raisons et dans de nombreux cas un domaine important, elle n’est pas un état permanent et inaltérable. Il existe quantité de facteurs que nous devons prendre en considération : l’âge de l’individu, son état de santé, son mental, sa situation sociale, sa conception du monde, etc. Il en va de même avec la force dite mentale, ou plus communément parlant, la force de caractère.

Le spectaculaire

Avoir un corps de dieu ou de déesse a toujours fait rêver la jeunesse, il est clair que l’état du corps est censé être reflété par son apparence. La silhouette d’une personne était un des moyens pour juger de son état de santé, de sa force, de sa puissance. Les statues de la Grèce ou de la Rome antique servaient d’exemple. L’accent était mis sur l’esthétique des formes et des proportions. Il en va de même aujourd’hui, mais les modèles ont changé car ils appartiennent surtout aux milieux branchés de la « people society » : acteurs, sportifs de haut niveau, mannequins, etc. Les images que l’on nous en propose, même quand elles n’ont pas été retouchées, nous font miroiter un monde complètement irréel de jeunes gens innocents, pétillants de santé, sautillant, et réalisant des « exploits » avec la plus grande facilité. « Toute la vie des sociétés dans lesquelles règnent les conditions modernes de production s’annonce comme une immense accumulation de spectacles. Tout ce qui était directement vécu s’est éloigné dans une représentation. » (1) Dans ce monde en trompe-l’œil comment ne pas passer pour un trouble-fête lorsqu’on présente d’autres valeurs que celles qui sont actées par la publicité au service de l’Économie et de la volonté de puissance de quelques uns, tout cela au détriment de la majorité des individus ?

Tsuda Itsuo montrant les points du ventre pendant une conférence.
Tsuda Itsuo montrant les points du ventre pendant une conférence.

Un problème de société

La société de 2019 n’est pas la société du vingtième siècle et encore moins celle du dix-neuvième. À l’époque la force physique avait un coté naturel, oserai-je dire primitif, il n’en est plus de même aujourd’hui. Si, par exemple, en Occident les avancées de la médecine ont pu sauver des personnes et permettre un allongement de la durée de vie, elles ont, par contre-coup, rendu beaucoup de gens dépendants aux traitements et aux médicaments, créant par là même une société d’assistés dont la force vitale semble s’être cruellement affaiblie. Les laboratoires pharmaceutiques ne se gênent pas pour produire à profusion de plus en plus de substances, de nouvelles molécules, censées rendre la vie plus facile. Un des exemples qui fit scandale récemment est celui des drogués sur ordonnance. Les antidouleurs à base d’opiacés, par l’accoutumance qu’ils engendrent, ont déjà fait non seulement deux millions de personnes dépendantes de ces substances, mais aussi des centaines de milliers de drogués qui ne savent plus comment se procurer leur dose et même, dramatiquement, plus de quarante-huit mille morts au États-Unis en 2017. (2)
La médecine du sport dans certains pays, et cela depuis des dizaines d’années, n’hésite pas elle aussi à droguer les athlètes pour permettre à leur pays de remporter une course, un concours, ou une médaille aux Jeux olympiques.
Les records sont continuellement dépassés dans le domaine du sport, ainsi que partout où la compétition fait rage, mais il semble difficile de gagner, ni même seulement d’être sélectionné sans avoir des spécialistes du corps et de la médecine dans son staff technique.
La seule force physique naturelle ne suffit plus, il faut plus que cela aujourd’hui, beaucoup plus. On propose des compléments alimentaires, des cocktails de substances sans cesse plus sophistiqués pour dépasser les limites humaines naturelles et même parfois tout simplement pour être toujours en forme ou tout au moins le paraître, et quand les conséquences des traitements ou plutôt du mauvais traitement du corps surviennent il est déjà trop tard pour rebrousser chemin.

L’Écologie humaine

La prise de conscience de l’état de la planète par une partie de la nouvelle génération pourrait être le déclencheur d’une prise de conscience plus globale. La nécessité absolue de revoir non seulement la production de produits de consommation, mais également les schémas de cette même production si cette nécessité est poussée un peu plus loin, devrait amener la société à la compréhension de ce besoin impératif de changer d’orientation.
Si la technologie a des cotés pratiques, devons-nous renoncer à penser par nous-mêmes et suivre les traces pré-imprimées par les logiciels, les algorithmes, ou les moteurs de recherche ? La médecine occidentale, qui est un art et non une science, a fait de gros progrès du point de vue de la compréhension et du traitement de certaines maladies humaines, mais devons-nous pour cela abandonner notre libre arbitre et nous remettre entre ses mains sans chercher à comprendre ou à sentir ce qui nous convient le mieux ? La société nous gave de recommandations qui, si elles ne nous font plus rire, nous laissent souvent indifférents : « mangez bougez » « mangez cinq fruits et légumes par jour » « attention au taux de cholestérol, mangez des produits allégés » « respectez scrupuleusement le nombre d’heures de sommeil » etc. L’être humain moderne en vient à suivre les directives de personnes qui pensent pour lui en matière de santé, de travail, de rencontre, tout est préparé, pré-digéré, au nom de notre bien-être, pour réaliser ce que des écrivains comme Ievgueni Zamiatine, dès 1920, Aldous Huxley en 1932, ou George Orwell en 1949 avaient décrit dans leurs romans dits d’anticipation, c’est-à-dire « un monde idéal ». Sommes-nous déjà en train de vivre dans ce monde que prédisait Huxley dans une conférence en 1961 ?
« Il y aura dès la prochaine génération une méthode pharmaceutique pour faire aimer aux gens leur propre servitude, et créer une dictature sans larmes, pour ainsi dire, en réalisant des camps de concentration sans douleur pour des sociétés entières, de sorte que les gens se verront privés de leurs libertés, mais en ressentiront plutôt du plaisir. » (3)
Loin de moi l’idée de porter en avant les idéologies réactionnaires ou passéistes qui ont tendance à apporter leurs solutions à coup de « y a qu’à » ou de prôner la résurgence des valeurs patriarcales ou racistes qui fort heureusement sont, ou j’ose l’espérer, devraient être dépassées. Les pas à faire sont d’une toute autre dimension. Il ne s’agit rien de moins que de retrouver des valeurs humaines et c’est peut-être cela la vraie révolution. L’Aïkido est porteur de cet espoir, mais nous ne devons pas nous tromper de direction.

Respiration KA MI : activation de la force vitale
Respiration KA MI : activation de la force vitale

La force vitale

Les expressions populaires comme « avoir du cœur au ventre » ou « avoir des tripes » expriment bien l’importance que la majorité des gens d’il n’y a pas si longtemps accordaient à cette région du corps, le courage ne se trouvait pas dans la réflexion mais dans l’action du bas du corps.
La force vitale était un domaine bien connu des maîtres d’arts martiaux, et ils accordaient tous la plus grande attention à en faire un des sujets majeurs, sinon le centre, de leur enseignement. Tous ceux qui ont eu la chance de connaître les maîtres de la première génération après O Senseï savent que la valeur de Noquet Senseï, Tamura Senseï, Yamaguchi Senseï ou Noro Senseï, ainsi que de tant d’autres n’était pas dans la qualité, évidemment irréprochable, de leur technique mais dans leur présence, simple reflet de leur personnalité, de leur force vitale.
Tsuda Itsuo Senseï, maître d’Aïkido, faisait aussi partie de cette génération, mais il était aussi un des maîtres de la première génération après Noguchi Haruchika Senseï, dans l’art du Seitai, et il a beaucoup écrit sur ce domaine dès son premier livre Le Non-faire dont j’ai tiré quelques extraits.
« Du point de vue Seitai, le ventre n’est pas simplement un récipient de divers organes digestifs, comme l’enseigne l’anatomie. Le ventre, déjà connu en Europe sous le nom japonais de “hara”, est la source et le dépôt de la force vitale. » (4)
« La vie agit comme une force qui donne la cohésion aux éléments absorbés. […] C’est cette force de cohésion que nous appelons “ki”. […] Ce qui intéresse le Seitai, ce n’est pas les détails de la structure anatomique, mais le comportement de chaque individu qui révèle l’état de cette force de cohésion. Cette cohésion, en l’occurrence, est en quête spontanée d’un équilibre et se manifeste de deux façons diamétralement opposées : en excès et en déficit. Lorsque le ki, force de cohésion ou énergie vitale, se trouve en excès, l’organisme rejette automatiquement cet excès afin de rétablir l’équilibre. Ce qui déroute l’observateur, c’est que le rejet, loin d’être simple, s’effectue sous des formes diverses et complexes. Il se manifeste chez l’individu dans son comportement verbal, dans son geste, ou dans son acte. Par contre, lorsque le ki est en déficit, l’organisme réagit pour combler cette insuffisance, en attirant vers lui le ki des autres, c’est-à-dire, leur attention. » (5)
Dans le Seitai, il existe un moyen pour se rendre compte de l’état du koshi et de la force vitale, et cela simplement en vérifiant l’élasticité du troisième point du ventre qui se trouve environ deux doigts en dessous du nombril. Si le point est positif, c’est-à-dire si on sent qu’il rebondit lorsqu’on appuie dessus, alors tout va bien, on se remettra rapidement en cas de difficulté ou de maladie, si par contre les doigts s’enfoncent et ne reviennent qu’avec lenteur, si le ventre est mou, c’est que l’état du corps est en difficulté, ce manque de tonus est révélateur de l’état de la force vitale. Je préfère m’abstenir de donner plus de détails afin d’éviter que des bricoleurs présomptueux ou mal informés commencent à toucher à tout. En tout cas vous pouvez essayer sur vous-mêmes, mais pas sur les autres même s’ils sont d’accord, le risque de perturber leur rythme biologique et par contre-coup leur santé est trop grand, inutile de jouer les apprentis sorciers.
La force vitale est ce qui nous fait remonter la pente lorsqu’on a sombré. C’est ce qui nous permet de concrétiser des projets qui parfois semblent impossibles à réaliser.

Représentation du hara ; Basilique Saint-Sernin à Toulouse
Représentation du hara ; Basilique Saint-Sernin à Toulouse

La technique Seitai : une orientation

Le Seitai nous apporte dans le quotidien les instruments dont nous manquons pour entretenir notre force vitale. La pratique du Katsugen Undo (Mouvement régénérateur) ainsi que des Taïso adaptés en fonction des Taiheki (habitudes corporelles) ou des techniques de premier secours n’en sont que la partie visible, l’essentiel se trouve dans sa philosophie de la vie et dans sa compréhension de l’être humain. Toute l’attention apportée à l’éducation des jeunes parents, le soin au bébé, la manière de faire circuler le Ki, de respecter chaque personne dans son individualité, et non en faisant référence au général, en font une science du particulier comme aimait à le définir Tsuda Itsuo Senseï dans son livre du même nom.
Si à l’occasion des stages je donne des indications pratiques qui permettent aux personnes de retrouver un bon état de santé, de récupérer leur force vitale lorsqu’elle est affaiblie, je compte toujours sur la capacité des individus à réagir, à comprendre la nécessité de s’orienter différemment pour cela, plutôt que de se démettre de leur pouvoir au profit d’une technique, d’une idole, ou d’un gourou.
Sans la force vitale, la force physique a du mal à trouver des débouchés, elle tourne en rond et finit par perturber la personne elle-même qui ne sait plus comment faire pour retrouver son équilibre.
La force vitale n’a pas de morale, elle peut être utilisée à bon escient ou non certes, mais si elle n’est plus là, inutile de discuter sur la valeur des objectifs à atteindre ou sur les perspectives que nous propose la société.
On se pose beaucoup de questions sur sa nature, son origine, voire sa domestication. Certains aimeraient pouvoir la mesurer grâce à du matériel technologique très développé, comme par exemple, des électrodes sophistiquées capable d’enregistrer les réponses subtiles émises par le cerveau. Malheureusement, ou plutôt heureusement car les risques de manipulation sont grands, cela semble pour l’instant impossible. La force vitale est d’une toute autre nature, on la comprend quand on retrouve la sensation du ki dans son propre corps. Mais qu’est-ce que le ki ? Tsuda Senseï nous donne en quelque mots une piste pour sa redécouverte.
« Le ki est le moteur de toutes les manifestations instinctives et intuitives des êtres vivants. Les animaux n’essayent pas de justifier leur action mais arrivent à maintenir un équilibre biologique dans la nature. Chez l’homme, le développement extraordinaire de l’intelligence menace de détruire tout équilibre biologique, allant jusqu’à la destruction totale de tout être vivant » (6)

L’Aïkido : un art pour réveiller la force vitale

L’Aïkido est facilement au cœur de nombreuses polémiques, au sujet de son refus de la compétition, de son idéal de non-violence, de son manque de modernité, voire de sa prétendue inefficacité. Il me semble que, justement, il est temps d’affirmer les valeurs de notre art – et elles sont nombreuses. Dans la pratique de l’Aïkido ce n’est pas la force physique qui est déterminante, mais plutôt la capacité à l’utiliser, de même pour la technique c’est son adaptation à la situation concrète qui est la plus importante et cela ne peut se faire sans avoir réveillé notre force vitale. La mise en situation sur les tatamis jour après jour, séance après séance, si elle est faite sans concession et en même temps sans brutalité, nous ouvre les yeux et permet de développer, de retrouver ce qui anime l’être humain, une force, une vitalité que l’on a trop souvent laissé s’atrophier. La puissance que l’on peut développer, mais aussi la tranquillité, la quiétude intérieure que l’on peut retrouver en sont la manifestation visible, le reflet de ce que l’on appelle le Kokoro au Japon.
Il est inutile de comparer avec d’autres pratiques car, même si l’Aïkido, quelques soient les critiques qui lui sont faites, ne servait seulement qu’à permettre le réveil, l’entretien ou l’amélioration de la force vitale, n’aurait-il pas rempli son devoir vis à vis des pratiquants ? Ne pourrait-on le considérer comme un des arts martiaux majeurs ?
La force vitale est au cœur de toutes les disciplines et cela depuis l’origine des temps, si tous les arts martiaux évoluent, elle reste l’élément indispensable à leur pratique.

Régis Soavi

Vous souhaitez recevoir les prochains articles ? Abonnez vous à la newsletter :

« La force vitale » un article de Régis Soavi publié dans Dragon Magazine (Spécial Aïkido n°26) en octobre 2019

Notes :
1) Guy Debord, La Société du spectacle, Buchet/Chastel 1969 p.9
2) Journal Le Monde, 16 octobre 2018
3) Aldous Huxley, discours prononcé en 1961 à la California Medical School de San Francisco
4) Itsuo Tsuda, Le Non-faire, Le Courrier du Livre 1977 p.185
5) Itsuo Tsuda, Le Non-faire, Le Courrier du Livre 1977 p.189, p. 194, p.195
6) Itsuo Tsuda, Le Dialogue du silence, Le Courrier du Livre 1979 p.87

Être libre rend les autres libres

Manon Soavi était invitée par le magazine web italien DeAbyDay, à s’exprimer sur « le conditionnement féminin à travers l’éducation » et sur son parcours. Cet entretien s’inscrit dans une série de rencontres publiées par ce magazine web sur des femmes qui font bouger le monde au jour le jour.


1. Qui est Manon Soavi ?
J’ai 37 ans, je suis française et j’enseigne l’Aïkido, que je pratique depuis l’enfance. Je travaille aussi dans la communication numérique pour des associations. J’ai exercé comme pianiste concertiste et accompagnatrice durant une dizaine d’années et je ne suis jamais allée à l’école.

2. Tu n’as pas été scolarisée, comment as-tu traversé ton enfance ? Tu n’as jamais voulu aller à l’école ?
À 5 ans j’ai voulu essayer l’école, je me demandais comment c’était ! J’ai tenu 4 jours avant de décréter que je n’y retournerais plus jamais. J’avais compris ! Je ne pouvais pas rester dans un lieu où si je disais “non” ce n’était pas respecté. Je peux tout à fait respecter des règles, mais le respect doit être mutuel, à l’école il ne l’est pas.

3. Tu ne t’es jamais sentie marginalisée ? Comment se sont passés tes premiers contacts avec le monde « extérieur » ? Quelles différences notais-tu, si tu en notais, entre toi et les autres dans la perception du monde ?
Bien sûr je suis une marginale ! Mais en fait la plupart des gens se sentent marginaux, se sentent différents et ils en souffrent mais ils ne savent pas vraiment pourquoi. Moi je sais pourquoi je suis différente et pourquoi je veux le rester !
À l’adolescence j’ai pensé que je souffrais d’une certaine solitude, un éloignement des autres jeunes de mon âge mais finalement j’ai découvert que je ne souffrais pas de la solitude mais de la déception que le monde soit ainsi, déception de la pauvreté des rapports humains. Et évidemment déception des rapports hommes-femmes. Pas seulement de la domination masculine mais aussi et surtout de l’attitude des femmes elles-mêmes.
Et avec le temps j’ai compris qu’il y a bien pire. Il y a la souffrance de la solitude dans la foule. La solitude inconsolable que l’on rencontre à l’école, être seul face aux difficultés. Seul face au monde. Je n’ai jamais été seule. Mes parents ont toujours été avec moi, à chaque instant, jusqu’à ce que je sois prête à affronter le monde, jusqu’à que je sois assez forte.
Parfois les gens pensent que c’est une façon de surprotéger un enfant et qu’il faut que l’enfant se confronte, se débrouille. Mais même d’un point de vue martial c’est une absurdité. On n’envoie pas un enfant qui n’est pas prêt à se battre sur le champ de bataille. Ou alors on l’envoie à une mort certaine. Si on lui laisse le temps alors le jeune apprend et un jour quand il est assez fort, il prend son envol, il est prêt. Et alors croyez-moi il peut endurer beaucoup de choses, car la force est à l’intérieur. Même si l’extérieur plie, l’intérieur ne casse pas. Le problème de la force extérieure acquise dans l’enfance pour se défendre, c’est qu’elle a tendance à s’écrouler car les bases ne sont pas assez solides. C’est comme ça qu’on se retrouve dans des situations intenables, que nous faisons une dépression, un burn out ou autre. On nous a tellement habitués à supporter, qu’on ne sent plus à temps qu’il nous faut réagir. C’est pourquoi il est important de retrouver la sensibilité qui nous alerte et la capacité à réagir.
Une des choses les plus étranges et tristes a été pour moi de constater les masques que chacun mettait pour paraître différent de ce qu’il est. Plus beau, plus intelligent, plus drôle. Évidement les rôles des femmes, aguicheuses, manipulatrices, faussement faibles, attendant le prince charmant pour enfin vivre ! Quelle tristesse ! Tous ces codes vicieux, qui déterminent la hiérarchie des rapports humains. Je connaissais le respect, la hiérarchie non. Et le monde faisait exactement l’inverse, aucun respect profond pour l’autre, mais des ordres, des interdits (à transgresser bien sûr) et de la hiérarchie tout le temps. C’était très déprimant.
Il m’a fallu du temps pour m’apercevoir que finalement ma manière d’être attirait certaines personnes. Qu’être soi-même prouvait tout simplement que c’était possible. Je refuse de jouer au jeu social, j’en accepte certaines règles superficielles, inévitables pour vivre en société, mais je refuse le fond du jeu. Peut-être alors certains s’apercevront qu’en fait il suffit de ne plus jouer. Nous maintenons nous-mêmes notre prison fermée, nous avons la clef à la main mais nous avons peur.
Je peux juste servir à dire « c’est possible » ou comme le disait Fukuoka senseï « je n’ai rien d’extraordinaire, mais ce que j’ai entrevu est immensément important. »

4. Selon toi, est-ce encore possible de proposer ce genre d’expérience dans la société actuelle ?
Ce n’est pas plus difficile aujourd’hui qu’hier. Les temps changent et les difficultés ne sont pas les mêmes. Mais les difficultés pour être des êtres humains véritables ne datent pas d’hier. La seule question est : qu’est-ce que je veux ? Dans quelle direction je veux orienter ma vie ?

5. Aujourd’hui certaines féministes semblent presque vouloir abolir l’idée de masculin et féminin. De fait, quand même, il existe des différences biologiques fondamentales : qu’en penses-tu ? Qu’est-ce que veut dire pour toi, être féministe ?
Je suis pour le respect des différences. Chaque individu est unique, différent. Certains sont grands, ou maigres, certains aiment le sport ou plutôt lire pendant des heures, certains réfléchissent avant d’agir, certains mangent quand ils sont contrariés. Nous sommes tous différents, et bien sûr la différence de fonctionnement biologique compte, énormément. Mais elle ne devrait pas conditionner notre rôle dans la société, conditionner nos droits, conditionner notre comportement. Il ne s’agit pas de faire un modèle unique, masculin évidement, non, au contraire. Respecter chaque être dans ses besoins, dans sa singularité.
Pour moi être féministe c’est bien sûr chercher l’égalité entre hommes et femmes (qui n’existe toujours pas, même dans nos pays) mais être féministe ça veut dire d’abord avoir conscience que ce sont les femmes les premières qui perpétuent le conditionnement. Il ne s’agit pas de se positionner en victime, car nous sommes victime et bourreau en même temps. Puisque nous perpétuons le modèle en éduquant nos enfants, garçons comme filles. C’est donc avant tout réfléchir à notre propre état, à ce que nous véhiculons tous les jours autour de nous, à nos enfants, à nos amies. Réfléchir à notre culture, à nos médias, à nos propres attentes.
Être féministe pour moi c’est cesser de se définir comme « une femme ». Ce qui veut dire aussi ne plus voir les hommes comme des « mâles ». Je suis féministe au sens où c’est nécessaire aujourd’hui pour avancer comme c’était nécessaire que les femmes d’hier se battent pour certains droits.
Un jour, peut-être, nous ne serons plus ni femme, ni homme, ni noir, ni blanc, ni jeune, ni vieux, mais simplement nous serons des êtres humains véritables.

6. Qu’est-ce que l’École Itsuo Tsuda et quel y est ton rôle ?
L’École Itsuo Tsuda œuvre à la diffusion de la philosophie pratique d’Itsuo Tsuda, retransmise par Régis Soavi, mon père. Elle réunit des dojos en Europe entièrement destinés à la pratique de l’Aïkido et du Katsugen Undo (Mouvement régénérateur). Je suis Conseiller Technique de l’École Itsuo Tsuda ce qui veut dire que je veille à l’orientation de notre École.

7. Dans l’École Itsuo Tsuda vous pratiquez l’Aïkido et le Katsugen undo (Mouvement régénérateur), quelles sont leurs particularités ?
Le Katsugen Undo c’est une base, c’est une pratique qui permet un réveil des capacités vitales de chaque individu, c’est donc une base pour notre vie. Quelle que soit l’activité que nous exerçons, retrouver un corps naturel qui réagit correctement est une nécessité.
Pour l’Aïkido c’est la prédominance accordée à la respiration et à la sensation du Ki plutôt qu’à l’aspect sportif ou martial qui est le cœur de notre École. Nous pratiquons en cherchant la fusion avec le partenaire et non pas l’opposition. L’efficacité martiale découle de notre capacité à être dans le moment juste, dans la position juste, mais ce n’est pas une finalité en soi.

8. Dans ton école il y a une forte présence féminine, saurais-tu nous dire pourquoi, puisque les arts martiaux sont un territoire à dominante masculine ?
Déjà, dès les premiers dojos que mon père, Régis Soavi a créé au début des années quatre-vingts il a voulu “donner le pouvoir aux femmes”. Il a toujours poussé dans cette direction. Donner le pouvoir aux femmes ne veut pas dire le retirer aux hommes ! Mais dans un monde où les femmes n’ont pas le pouvoir, il faut bien leur donner pour espérer arriver à l’équilibre.
Et puis bien sûr c’est l’orientation de notre pratique, notre attention à la sensibilité qui se développe à la fois avec la pratique du Katsugen Undo et de l’Aïkido qui est particuliere. Les femmes y trouvent certainement un chemin qui leur parle. Mais il y a aussi beaucoup d’hommes dans notre École qui aspirent à autre chose qu’à une surenchère de force et d’agressivité
Maître Ueshiba le fondateur de l’Aïkido a été un très grand Budoka, redoutable même, mais ce qui fait sa grandeur c’est le fait qu’il est l’un des rares à avoir dépassé cette dualité du combat. C’est l’histoire de toute une vie pour lui. Mais le cadeau qu’il a fait à l’humanité c’est de parler d’aller au-delà du combat. Que le Budo pouvait forger des êtres humains capables de beaucoup mieux que juste gagner par la victoire sur l’autre. En Aïkido il n’y a pas de victoire, il y a dépassement de l’opposition et cela est très différent. C’est peut-être une utopie, mais c’est l’espoir de former des êtres capables de baisser les armes sans pour autant devenir des victimes. Nous pensons souvent que nous en Europe nous ne nous battons plus, nous sommes des « gentils » ! C’est oublier un peu vite comment nous traitons les plus faibles, les plus jeunes ou les plus dépendants que nous. Les personnes âgées, les malades, les immigrés, les enfants, les bébés, tous ceux à qui on ne laisse pas le choix, tous ceux qu’on n’écoute pas. Comment nous parlons à la femme de ménage, comment nous parlons à ceux à qui nous donnons des ordres. Sommes-nous si bons que ça ? Sommes-nous si exempts de violence ? Face à une adversité quelconque notre premier réflexe est de nous battre, les femmes en tant qu’êtres sociaux dominés y sont confrontées tous les jours. Alors trouver une autre voie est sûrement une nécessité plus criante pour les femmes, bien que nécessaire pour tous.

9. De quelle façon la pratique de l’Aïkido et du Katsugen Undo peuvent-elles changer la vie des personnes, en particulier des femmes ?
Justement parce que nous pratiquons dans une direction de fusion et de Non-faire. Il ne s’agit pas d’ajouter quelque chose mais de se débarrasser de ce qui nous encombre, autant physiquement que mentalement, l’être trouve alors une place pour respirer. Un lieu où il est possible d’être soi-même et non pas de “paraître”. Les femmes en particulier ont peu de place pour être elles-mêmes et ces pratiques peuvent nous aider à sortir justement du conditionnement social. C’est un outil, une voie. Il ne s’agit pas de pratiquer et d’attendre un miracle qui nous rendrait beau, riche et intelligent. C’est nous qui devons marcher.

10. Quand as-tu commencé à pratiquer et qu’est-ce qui te pousse à continuer ?
J’ai commencé l’Aïkido à six ans et depuis je n’ai pas arrêté. J’ai commencé parce que mon père enseignait et que ça me plaisait tout simplement ! Pourquoi je continue ? D’abord parce que j’ai toujours du plaisir à pratiquer et que je n’ai pas l’impression d’avoir terminé mon chemin, loin de là.
Et puis c’est un outil pour entrer en communication avec les autres sans passer par les conventions sociales, c’est une communication directe, dans le silence. Faire un chemin accompagnée d’autres personnes qui marchent dans la même direction est vraiment appréciable.

11. Ton parcours s’est fait en France, y a-t-il des possibilités pour les femmes italiennes de suivre ce parcours ?
Itsuo Tsuda a laissé neuf livres, ce sont autant d’indications pour qui s’intéresse à sa philosophie pratique. Ils sont tous traduits en italien. Mais pour pratiquer, le mieux est un dojo, en Italie il y a des dojos à Milano, Roma, Torino et Ancona. Il y a des stages et la pratique quotidienne. Le dojo c’est le puits où l’on peut puiser pour se retrouver.
Le chemin c’est nous qui devons le faire, quel que soit l’outil que nous utilisons pour évoluer, tout dépend de nous-mêmes. De notre décision intérieure.


By Régis Soavi

For most Westerners, practising Aikido on their knees rather than standing seems to be at first sight very difficult. Although in our everyday life, we are very rarely in this position, it has been since immemorial times a relaxing posture, still allowing to stay vigilant.


To sit in Seiza (in Japanese « the proper way to sit ») allows the spine to be aligned and helps abdominal breathing, and so allows to put power in the Hara. Moreover, if the position, the posture, is well in line, while relaxed, it’s an extraordinary opportunity to relax the whole body.

To rest, to relax without having to lie down has always been what people working outside and therefore at the mercy of enemies, predators or even just because of bad weather conditions, have been looking for. The squatting position, still used in most countries of the African continent, in South America, Australia and many other countries, has the same function. On this matter, Tsuda Itsuo Senseï recalls an anecdote in his book The Path of Less:
« In an article probably conceived before 1934, Marcel Mauss describes this under the heading  »Techniques of the body » (1)
Children squat normally. We no longer know how to squat. I believe that this is an absurdity and an inferiority of our races, civilisations, societies. And he quotes an experience he had at the Front during the First World War. The (white) Australians he was with could rest on their heels during stops, while he was forced to stand.
The squatting position, in my opinion, is an interesting position that we can help children preserve. The biggest mistake is to take it away from them. All of mankind, except our societies, has retained it.
The squatting position presupposes flexibility of the hips. In doing Aikido, I see the huge difference between the Japanese and the Europeans. The Japanese, less structured intellectually and verbally, simply imitate what they are shown. Europeans observe, take note, make a file and paste a label on it. But when they begin to execute a movement, they sometimes find it difficult to coordinate everything. If they pay attention to the right hand, they forget the left. As for the feet, they don’t know where they are. This kind of mental habit does not make practice easy. Instead of having two components, A and B, B simply imitating A, they involve a third element, C, called intellect, file, or structure, thus forming a deflected circuit that complicates the situation. »

Childhood, adolescence

Before walking upright, we crawled, then, seeing and imitating other older children or adults around, we stood on our two legs. The vertical position released our hands and little by little we moved quicker and quicker even with our arms full of toys. During this period of our life, our usual playground, the one we feel comfortable to play in, where we can be independent of adults is the ground. And this whatever the area of the planet we live in. Then, we encounter great changes, our bodies spread out, we leave the ground for something more aerial, more mental too because our brain is better irrigated in a vertical position, so the more we grow up the more we get far from it. The society we live in provides us with high chairs, sofas, and other settees on which we can sit conveniently to enjoy ourselves or work, to relax or concentrate. From then, we live far from the ground, we won’t be back on the ground again except in very few moments when we play with a child or when we are on the beach or on the lawn.


When people discover the dojo and that huge surface at their disposal, they feel some sort of a childlike joy that threatens them and at the same time attracts them. Some of them are aware of it, others are just impressed. While children immediately start running and rolling on the floor, grown-ups remain reserved, already conscious perhaps of the process to be followed.

The first steps, as to say, on the Tatami mats, start in a sitting position. Frequently beginners cross their legs, but even if they succeed in sitting in the Seiza position, which is extremely unusual, they will almost never be told to keep the position during the practice. After a few seconds or few minutes of meditation, often the whole session will carry on standing. Indeed we are not in Japan, and many people aren’t used any more to sit that way, but instead of considering it as a challenge, a goal to be achieved, it seems to me interesting to consider it as a game. A game that requires physical and mental implication, but still a game, so a pleasure. And even if there are constraints, they are fully part of the game we have just started.

Getting recentered

Practising on our knees allows to get recentered while remaining relaxed. I always have my students practise slowly, specially beginners, but it is very good for advanced students too since a workout performed slowly and smoothly (I often use the Italian word legato, used in music) allows the whole body to recenter. If, as we got used to it, we don’t work using the muscle strength in our arms, but if we project our energy from our center, our Hara and have it run along our limbs, we can feel vividly the flow of Ki and see the effects. Arms must be neither flabby nor rigid, but supple and active, powerful, with this power they have when they are full of Ki. Working slowly in the kneeling position, for example in the basic forms that are Ikkyo or Yonkyo, allows, if one pays attention to this direction, to discover how Yin and Yang act, if we can say, spread out, interpenetrate. We then get recentered automatically because we need to recover our balance, the support on the knees become lighter because the body distributes the weight better, the hips themselves regain the flexibility they had lost by moving only from the standing position.

Two moments seem to me the right time to practise on the knees. The beginning of the session, since, as a slow work, it is a bit like a fitness. And the end of the session, the moment we do Kokyu-Ho which, in addition of being done on the knees, concentrates in a few minutes many physical and mental difficulties. It is, again, an opportunity to work on how to get recentered while one can check the state of the Koshi, its suppleness and so the whole posture.

A preparation?

Getting prepared with practising kneeling techniques, allows you to be ready when you face the opportunity of a Shiho-nage with a partner much smaller than you. The fact that you can turn while kneeling without any difficulty or loss of balance, to pass under his arm is an undeniable advantage.
But the range of advantages to practise in suwari waza (kneeling techniques) does not end there.
If I take as an example Irimi Nage in Hanmi Handachi Waza (techniques achieved with one partner on his knees and the other standing) one can feel more precisely the breath of aspiration down, and you can immediately feel if you are centered or not, if you have succeeded in creating a sufficient void in which the partner has plunged, where he has lost his balance while you stay stable. This is, still in Hanmi Handachi Waza, even more visible and concrete with two partners: the grab Katate Ryote Dori (seizure with both hands of a wrist) begins with a strike that turns into a seizure — and this is the crucial moment for a kokyu nage. The projection can only be done if one has enough practice of kneeling techniques, if one is able to become very heavy by concentrating the Ki in the lower abdomen, and to pass it beyond the fingertips.

Of course all techniques can be done from this posture with sometimes some variations but what seems important to me is that after having practised on your knees, practicing in Tachi Waza (standing practice) becomes much easier. This kind of work can have various consequences, if it is done forcefully, with the desire to win at all costs, or to stand a reputation, a role. Without having found the lines that allow the projection in flexibility, nor a deep and quiet breathing, there is a great risk of damage to the body, of having after a while serious problems with the knees or hips and a real handicap in everyday life.


Walking, moving on your knees, can be a good exercise, and for that there is Shikko. Here again it is important not to overdo it, not to show it as a competition, a « tour de force » that some will succeed more or less happily. Shikko is an excellent exercise but to use in moderation, especially at the beginning. After a few years of practice, if we have not forced, then it will have become a real pleasure. You can even do this training with a Bokken and by striking straight, this way of doing it makes it possible to check if it is the hips that move and if the rotation is done well at the lower level of the body and not from the chest. The shoulders must not move at all, but must remain exactly in the direction of the movement. When you start to feel comfortable you can start to make slow strikes with the Bokken while moving. All these exercises help to regain mobility in the hips. In my opinion, they have no immediate martial value, at first glance, simply because they are executed on Tatamis, which is normal, because who would like to train on gravel, for example, without protection on their knees?


Changes, that seem miracles to whom they happen, are possible. Years ago a woman came with crutches, she had been moving with enormous difficulties for several years. Very determined she came to practice every morning at the dojo. At the beginning there was no way for her to sit other than with her legs stretched in front of her, little by little however, after a few weeks her condition had improved. After a month she managed to get on her knees, but of course, straight and stiff as a board. From then, she began to get down, centimeter by centimeter, to end up, after several months, sitting on her heels without pain and, even later yet, enjoying it. This is not a unique case, right now at Tenshin Dojo, in Paris, a retired gentleman who came in with serious problems with his knees and ankles as a result of various surgeries he had had several years before. In less than a year of very regular practice (he comes every day) he has regained a mobility he no longer expected and now can sit on his heels. No force, taking time, having continuity, if something is possible it is done naturally. To be quite honest, I must say that in both cases the people concerned also started to practice katsugen undo (the regenerative movement) which facilitated the work of their bodies and their re-ordering.

Is groundwork essential?

Nothing, ever, is essential, but is it necessary? It is certain that we can do without it, there are even many good or bad reasons to avoid it, we can argue in these terms: it hurts the knees, it is dangerous for the joints, there’s no point in that, because nobody moves that way anymore, etc. If we can’t make out the reason of it, why should we strain ourselves? There are so many rituals, exercises that have become incomprehensible in our modern society, that even the simple act of saluting by bowing may seem obsolete, even ridiculous for many Westerners who would be perfectly willing to swap it for the “Shake-Hands”. By adapting to modernity, are we not in danger of missing the essential, of losing the spirit that leads us in Aikido, would I dare say its soul?

Want to receive future articles? Subscribe to the newsletter :

(1) Itsuo Tsuda, The Path of Less, p. 175, Yume Editions, Paris, 2015 (trans. from La Voie du dépouillement, Le Courrier du Livre, 1975)

Article by Régis Soavi published in Dragon Magazine (speciale Aikido n° 25) july 2019.

Superficialité ou approfondissement

Dans cet article à partir d’un hexagramme du Yi Jing (Tsing : Le puits), Régis Soavi nous parle des pratiques de l’Aïkido et du Mouvement régénérateur comme des instruments de recherche et d’approfondissement de sois-même.

Le dojo est, par essence, le puits où viennent se nourrir les pratiquants d’arts martiaux à la recherche de la Voie, du Tao. À l’opposé du ring ou du gymnase, il offre un lieu de paix nécessaire, voire indispensable, pour l’approfondissement des valeurs humaines.dojo le puits Nous vivons aujourd’hui à la vitesse de la lumière. La communication n’a jamais été aussi rapide. Les ondes chargées de bits et micro-bits circulent en boucle autour de notre planète, porteuses de plus d’informations que notre cerveau n’en peut stocker. Les réseaux sociaux ont remplacé la connaissance par un vernis superficiel qui peut sembler suffisamment apte à satisfaire notre apparence sociétale. Si dans les années soixante les membres de l’Internationale situationniste fustigeaient les pseudo-intellectuels qui se nourrissaient auprès des revues comme Le Nouvel Observateur ou l’Express pour alimenter leurs conversations mondaines ou leurs écrits, que diraient-ils de la démocratisation proposée à tout un chacun pour devenir le nouveau Monsieur Jourdain du Bourgeois Gentilhomme de Molière ?
Mieux vaut connaître un peu de tout plutôt que d’approfondir quoi que ce soit, telle semble bien être la devise de notre époque.
Dans les arts martiaux la tendance semble aller dans la même direction. Nombreuses sont les personnes qui sont intéressées par les images spectaculaires retransmises par les médias où l’on présente les capacités fictives d’acteurs martiaux, au demeurant fort habiles dans leur métier, mais où la recherche est principalement le rendu superficiel ainsi que commercial.
L’image du puits dans l’ancienne Chine devrait nous faire nous interroger sur les tendances qui gouvernent notre vie de tous les jours. Si l’on tirait l’eau du puits à l’aide d’un seau et d’une perche, c’est bien la répétition d’un tel acte qui permettait la vie du village, et la nourriture prodiguée était considérée comme inépuisable. Et si nous prenions exemple sur cette image ancienne ?
Quand on pratique un Art comme l’Aïkido il ne s’agit pas d’accumuler des techniques sans cesse plus nombreuses, ni de répéter béatement l’enseignement prodigué, mais plutôt de commencer une recherche, de se réorienter vers quelque chose de plus profond afin d’abandonner le superficiel, le superflu, qui nous a tant déçus et que l’on ne supporte plus.

Régis Soavi Aikido

Bon nombre de personnes qui au départ sont extrêmement enthousiastes de commencer un vrai travail avec leur corps, se lassent de la répétition, bien trop souvent scolaire, ou encore se laissent fourvoyer par la dernière mode. On voit ainsi des gens qui collectionnent les méthodes et passent d’un art à l’autre, du Yoga au Taï-chi, du Karaté à la Capoeira, pensant parfois que l’un d’eux est supérieur à l’autre comme l’explique si bien un youtuber à la mode qui fait l’actualité comme ça lui chante.
Face à tous ces personnages qui ne vivent que pour influencer leurs followers et gagnent leur vie sur leurs dos grâce au nombre de « like » et à la publicité qu’ils engendrent, ne serait-il pas temps de chercher au fond de soi-même ? De prendre le temps de réfléchir plutôt que de consommer passivement la réflexion d’un autre ? De bouger son propre corps pour retrouver une harmonie perdue plutôt que de chercher dans le virtuel un complément à la routine issue de la pauvreté du quotidien ?
Le dojo en tant que lieu de recherche possède toutes les caractéristiques du puits : c’est à la fois un lieu pour l’entraînement, car on y puise chaque jour, et en même temps (et peut-être plus) c’est un lieu de convivialité où le social se débarrasse de ce qui l’empêche d’être vrai c’est-à-dire d’être le plus proche possible de la nature profonde des individus. Un lieu où la sociabilité échappe aux conventions, un lieu où l’on peut se parler, entrer physiquement en contact avec l’autre de façon simple, avec toutes les difficultés que cela peut représenter pour celui ou celle qui n’est pas prêt ou prête.
Toute l’arduité réside dans le fait de ne pas rester en superficie de la pratique, de ne pas se contenter de surfer sur un océan d’images devenues virtuelles ou de barboter sur le rivage et cela si possible sans se mouiller trop, mais de s’imprégner de ce que l’on y trouve, de lâcher ce qui nous encombre de manière à en explorer les profondeurs.
Mon Maître Itsuo Tsuda dans son livre Le Non-faire* nous donne avec simplicité, un aperçu de sa propre recherche et du travail qu’il avait engagé en Europe.

Itsuo Tsuda aikido

« Que suis-je à côté de la grandeur de l’Amour cosmique de Me Ueshiba, de la technique du Non-Faire de Me Noguchi, ou du raffinement insondable de Me Kanzé Kasetsu, acteur du théâtre Noh ? Je les ai connus tous les trois ; deux sont morts, seul Me Noguchi est en vie [Haruchika Noguchi meurt en 1976]. Leur influence continue de travailler en moi. Ce sont là des maîtres par nature. Moi, je suis simplement un être qui commence à se réveiller, qui cherche et évolue.
Une extraordinaire continuité d’efforts soutenus caractérise les œuvres de ces maîtres. J’ai l’impression de trouver dans un terrain aride, des puits d’une profondeur exceptionnelle. Là où s’arrête le travail de catégorisation n’est que leur point de départ. Ils y ont percé bien au-delà. Ils ont atteint les veines d’eau, la source de la vie.
Cependant, ces puits ne communiquent pas entre eux, bien que ce soit la même eau qu’on y trouve. La tâche qui m’incombe, est d’y dresser une carte géographique, d’y trouver un langage commun. »
Ce langage, Itsuo Tsuda le trouvera dans l’art de l’écriture (il se définissait lui-même comme écrivain-philosophe, comme en témoigne sa stèle funéraire au Père Lachaise), dans l’enseignement d’une certaine forme de l’Aïkido fondée sur la respiration et l’approfondissement de la sensation du Ki, enfin en faisant connaître le Katsugen undo (mouvement régénérateur). À travers son travail, son œuvre écrite, son enseignement, il réussira à créer un pont entre l’Orient et l’Occident.

Ce qui guette le pratiquant d’arts martiaux et ce plus particulièrement en Aïkido est l’ennui dû à la répétition, à la recherche de l’efficacité, au fait de peaufiner la technique, et tout cela au détriment de la profondeur de l’art, ainsi que de la culture qui le sous-tend. De fait, notre époque n’est plus soumise aux mêmes impératifs que les siècles derniers, s’il est toujours utile de pouvoir réagir en cas d’agression ou de difficultés, ce qui sera déterminant est plus la force intérieure et le réveil de l’instinct, que la capacité de combat. L’Aïkido demeure une pratique du corps, où la rigueur, la dynamique, le savoir-faire, ont une importance capitale, mais son aspect philosophique est loin d’être négligeable. Cet aspect n’est en rien contradictoire, bien au contraire, un de mes anciens maîtres Masamichi Noro l’avait bien compris lui-même lorsqu’il créa cet art nouveau qu’est le Ki no Michi (la voie du Ki) à la fin des années soixante-dix. La recherche dans l’Aïkido est quelque chose de difficile et peut même être pernicieuse parfois, car s’il ne s’agit pas de s’affronter avec d’autres combattants, ce n’est pas non plus de la méditation ni de la danse, et je peux dire cela car j’ai un immense respect pour ces arts, là encore les puits sont différents, mais la recherche va dans la même direction. Aller chercher du côté du développement des capacités humaines, de la culture au-delà du connu, se remettre en question et questionner les idées du monde, avancer pour faire avancer notre société. Sortir peut-être enfin un jour de la barbarie et de l’obscurantisme. Il nous suffit de relire la conférence de Umberto Eco** sur comment l’être humain se construit des ennemis pour comprendre que nous avons plus que jamais besoin de connaître l’autre pour mieux le comprendre.
L’Aïkido en tant qu’Art du Non-faire est une porte vers ce que nombre de personnes recherchent : la réalisation de soi-même, sans un ego démesuré, mais dans la simplicité, et avec le plaisir d’un vécu authentique.

Régis Soavi

Vous souhaitez recevoir les prochains articles ? Abonnez vous à la newsletter :

Notes :
* Itsuo Tsuda Le Non-faire, Édition Le Courrier du Livre Paris 1973 p. 12
**Umberto Eco Costruire il nemico e altri scritti occasionali Bompiani Milano 2011

Dojo, another spacetime

By Manon Soavi

« […] The path to in-depth discovery of oneself […] » said Tsuda Sensei « is not a straight line towards paradise, it is tortuous. » (1) Like classical musicians who spend their life in an infinite search for evolution, martial arts practitioners are on endless paths. Yet these paths are not devoid of meaning, signposts or verifications. One of the signposts Tsuda Sensei left to his students is « Dojo ».
He himself wrote on the topic : « As I said before, a dojo is not a space divided into parts and provided for certain exercices. It’s a place where spacetime is not the same as in a secular place. The atmosphere is particularly intense. One enters and leaves the space bowing so to get sacralized and desacralized. I am told that in France one can come across dojos that are simply gyms or sports centers. Anyhow, as far as I am concerned, I want my dojo to be a dojo and not a sports club with a boss and its regulars, so as not to disturb the sincerity of the practitionners. This does not mean that they must keep a sullen and constipated face. On the contrary, we must maintain the spirit of peace, communion and joy. » (2)

But why create Dojos? It is quite complicated and requires a lot of work!

dojo yuki ho toulouse

To answer this question, one might want to get back to the reason why we practice. If each of us has a personal and complex answer, I personnally join the opinion of those who think that we practice first and foremost to « be ». To genuinely « be », would it be only during the time of a session.

Then Aikido is a tool to bring us back to ourselves. To start « being » on tatamis is a first step which starts with a letting go: to accept stepping onto a tatami and get in physical contact with others! But a contact different from the one which is governed by social conventions. By the way I sometimes notice the reluctance of some beginners to put on a Keikogi, as if keeping their sport trousers allowed them to keep a social identity. The Keikogi puts us all on equal footing, outside of social markers, it rubs off body shapes, sexes, ages, incomes… Of course as long as one does not show off one’s grade, one’s dan, in order to impress beginners. If our state of mind during the practice is to share this experience with a partner, and not to show that we are the strongest, then the fear of the encounter with the other person can lessen. In the Itsuo Tsuda School, there is no grade outright, this settles the matter once and for all.

Adventure starts at dawn (3)

The Dojo itself is a place out of the social time, out of the epoch, indifferent to the geographical location, and all of this also makes us completely disoriented. In addition we practice early in the morning (as Ueshiba O Sensei used to). Sessions take place every morning, all year long, at 6:45am during the week and 8am on weekends. Whether it snows, whether the sun shines, during vacations or on holidays, the Dojo is open and sessions take place. Beyond the arbitrary slicing of time in our world.

Dawn is also a particular time. Between awakening and practicing, there is almost nothing. Author Yann Allegret had put it as follows, in an article published in KarateBushido : « This happens around six in the morning. People leave their home and head towards a place. By foot. By car. With the metro. Outside, the streets of Paris are still asleep, almost empty. Dawn is drawing close. The Aikido session starts at 6:45am. The rythm of the city is still that of the night. Those who are outside have not yet put on their armours necessary for the workday ahead. Something remains suspended in the air. At dawn, as the sun rises, one feels like walking within an interstice. » (4)

An interstice of time and space where we can start working on ourselves. Because we have to lose, at least a little bit, our usual landmarks to recover the inner sensation of our own landmarks. The sensation of our biological speed rather than the time on the clock. In order to listen to oneself, silent surroundings are needed. And in our world silence is not so easy a thing to find!

A casket

dojo tenshin paris

This is why in Itsuo Tsuda School we give so much importance to creating Dojos. Of course it is possible to practice anywhere, to adapt to any circumstances. But, is it always to be desired? To resume the parallel with music (topic I know well, having been pianist and concertist during fifteen years) one can play outside, in a gym, in a school, a church, a hospital, etc. I have incidentally nothing against the democratization of classical music, quite the opposite. But a good concert hall, this is something else. It is a casket where the musician, instead of spending his time adapting to the situation, compensating for the bad acoustics or anything else, can immerse himself into listening, search through fineness and make music arise. Living both experiences is most probably necessary for a professional. For a beginner, finding concentration and calm in the midst of turmoil or airstreams frankly seems to me very difficult.

As to Aikido, the Dojo is the casket of this research. If one seizes this opportunity of having a Dojo, another perspective opens up. Because if our mind can understand the philosophical concepts that underlie the discourses about the Path, about the soul, etc, for the body to truly experience them, that’s a different story. We are often too busy, too upset, and we do have the need for a frame that fosters some particular mindsets.

We can observe as our experience grows that the spirit of Dojo is to be cultivated both in a rather precise manner and at the same time within something fluid and intangible. The same goes for religious worship places. Sometimes a small church in the countryside, a chapel hidden around the corner breathes more silence and sacredness than an immense cathedral visited by millions of tourists. It is the same with Dojos. It is neither the size, neither the absolute respect of rules that make a place different. Dojo, « the place where one practices the path », is an alchemy between the place, the layout, the prevailing atmosphere. It is not enough that the Dojo should be beautiful, although a tokonoma with a calligraphy mounted as kakejiku, an ikebana, do create an atmosphere, but it also has to be full and lively of its practitioners!

Architect Charlotte Perriand made this remark about the Japanese house, which « does not attempt to appear, but attempts to reconcile human beings with themselves » (5). It is a beautiful definition that perfectly applies to the notion of Dojo. To reconcile human beings with themselves and therefore with nature which we are part of. We must feel this as soon as we enter the Dojo. Often, people make a pause, even simple visitors. It is instinctive.

The prevailing activity in the Dojo is also an essential aspect of it. We have the possibility to take in charge all aspects of life. Members do the bookkeeping, renovation works, cleaning… Incidentally Tamura Sensei used to say about cleaning the Dojo: « this cleaning not only concerns the Dojo itself, but also the practitioner who, by this act, proceeds to cleaning in depth his own being. Which means that, even if the Dojo looks clean, it still needs to be cleaned again and again. » (6). Sinologist J.-F. Billeter talks about the « proper activity » [in French « l’activité propre », where « propre » both means clean and personal] when human activity becomes the art of nurturing life in oneself. This was part of the research of ancient Chinese Taoists. For us in the 21st century it is still about regaining a relationship to human activity, not as something separated from our life, allowing us to earn money and wait for holidays, but as a total activity. A participation of the entire being to an activity. The contribution of members to a common work in their Dojo also enables us to own this Dojo, not as a property, but as the real meaning of the common good: what belongs to everybody is mine, and not « What belongs to everybody belongs to nobody so why should I care ». This perspective inversion sometimes takes time. It cannot be learnt by words or by strict rules. It is to be discovered and it is to be felt by oneself.

I am sometimes told « in the Dojo it is possible, but at work, at home, it is impossible ». I am not so sure about it. If what one has deepened in the Dojo is enough, then one will be able to carry it over to somewhere else. Ueshiba O Sensei used to say « Dojo, it is where I am ».

We may not revolutionize the world all at once, of course, but each time we will react differently the world around us will change. Each time we will be able to get back to our center and breath deeply, things will change. All our problems will not be solved, but we will live them differently,our reality will then also be different.

Having no money is an advantage

dojo scuola della respirazione milanoFor Musashi Miyamoto everything can be an advantage. During a fight if the sun is on your back it is an advantage for you, if the sun is on the back of your enemy and he thinks he has the advantage, it is an advantage for you. Because everything depends on the individual, on how one orients oneself. Thus sometimes having no money is an advantage, because then we have no other solution than to create, to invent solutions. This is how we can create Dojos without any subsidies, entirely dedicated to one or two practices, what was a priori impossible becomes reality.

Sometimes difficulty stimulates us to create what is essential for us. By being a tenant, by volunteering, by doing things on our own, by not looking for perfection but for inner satisfaction. By listening to one’s own inner imperative and not birds of ill omen who tell you it will never work, before anything has even started.

Temporary? Like all that lives on earth, yes, but a temporary fully lived in the present moment. To live intensely, to follow one’s path, is not an « easy » thing. But poets already gave us some advice, like R. M. Rilke: « We know little, but that we must hold to what is difficult is a certainty that should never forsake us. » (7) Building while accepting instability, working to be satisfied and not to get an income or a reputation, here are values that go quite against our society of immediate pleasure, of consumption as compensation to boredom. If today there is not necessarily a struggle for life anymore in our societies, there is always a struggle for owning ever more. A happiness façade, a staged life, displayed on social networks. As theorized by situationists as early as the late sixties, what is directly lived moves away through representation, life then becomes an accumulation of shows, until its paroxysm when reality reverses: the representation of our life becomes more important than what we really and personnaly experience. As Guy Debord said « In a world which really is topsy-turvy, the true is a moment of the false. » (8)

In a Dojo we work to reconnect with the true that perseveres within ourselves.dojo yuki ho toulouse

Katsugen Undo practice, which enables the awakening of the body capacities, goes exactly in the same direction. The awakening of the living, of our deeper nature. Reality is then no longer an oppression that prevents us from doing what we want with our life but quite on the contrary, it is the fine perception of reality that shows us that all depends on ourselves, on our orientation. Founder of Katsugen Undo Noguchi Haruchika Sensei wrote some thoughts about Tchouang tseu’s work. These thoughts are of great interest and I cannot resist concluding this article by the intertwined voices of these two thinkers:

« When Tsu-yu contracted a crippling illness, Tsu-szu visited him and asked, « Do you think your fate is unpleasant? » Tsu-yu’s answer was astounding: « Why should I find it unpleasant? If changes are brought about and my left arm turns into a rooster, I’ll use it to herald the dawn. If my right shoulder is transformed into a bullet, I’ll use it to bring down a pigeon for roasting. If my buttocks become carriage-wheels and my spirit a horse, I’ll ride along on them. Then I would need no other vehicle but myself—that would be wonderful! »

« This is the road Tchouang-tseu walks. Within his attitude — that whatever happens, it is proper, and that when something happens, you go forward and affirm reality – there is not a trace of the resignation that lies in submitting to destiny. His affirmation of reality is nothing but the affirmation of reality. The dignity of the man is conveyed only by Lin Tsi’s words: « Wherever you are, be master. » (9)

Want to receive future articles? Subscribe to the newsletter :

Article by Manon Soavi published in Dragon Magazine (speciale Aikido n° 25) july 2019.


1) Itsuo Tsuda, Cœur de Ciel Pur, Éditions Le Courrier du Livre, 2014, p.86
2) ibid., p.113
3) Jacques Brel, 1958
4) Yan Allegret, À l’affût du moment juste, KarateBushido 1402, février 2014, p.
5) Mona Chollet, Chez soi. Une odyssée de l’espace domestique, Edition La découverte, 2015, p. 311
6) Noboyoshi Tamura, Aikido, Les presses de l’AGEP, 1986, p.19
7) Rainer-Maria Rilke, Lettres à un jeune poète, Éditions Grasset, 1989, p.73 (eng. transl. by M. D. Herter Norton, W. W. Norton & Company, 1962, p. 53)
8) Guy Debord, La Société du Spectacle, Éditions Gallimard, 1992, p.12
9) Haruchika Noguchi, sur Tchouang-Tseu, edition Zensei

Photo credit: Jérémie Logeay, Paul Bernas, Anna Frigo

Seizing, an art of detachment

By Régis Soavi

Seizing in itself is not the difficulty, it’s the coagulation of ki in the wrist, the arms or around the body that causes a problem and blocks us, and it’s through detachment that we can get free of it. The way to achieve this is visualization. Tsuda Senseï provides us with an example in his second book The Path of Less:

Aide-mémoire Itsuo Tsuda saisie
Drawing by Master Tsuda showing different types of seizures.

« Aïkido for me is an art of becoming a child again. […] It takes art to become a child without being childish.
[…] John, for example, tackles me from behind. I want to crouch down to sit, but he prevents me from doing so. He has biceps twice as big as mine and weighs almost 200 pounds (90 kilos). I cannot move, he is holding me so tightly. What should I do? Throw him before I sit down? I try but I cannot do it because he is too heavy and too strong.
So I become a child. I see a wondrous seashell on the beach and bend down to pick it up. I forget John, who is still grasping me from behind. (There is an important technical detail here: I move one foot forward to make two sides of a triangle with the other foot, because it is more concentrated that way.) There is flow of ki, starting with me and moving towards the seashell, whereas before, the ki was frozen at the thought of John. John’s 200 pounds become very light, and he falls forward over my shoulders.
How is it that with different ideas, we obtain opposite results, while the situation remains the same?
The idea of throwing provokes resistance. In the child’s gesture, there is the joy of picking up the shell that makes one forget the enemy’s presence. » (1)

Grabbing, appropriating

There are many ways of seizing and it is the intention put into it that is often determinant. Some of them can be considered as superficial or even unharmful, others more dangerous, like for instance those which carry a mark of appropriation or others which can sometimes be insidious and insistent.

The scenography which allows training in Aikido considers seizing as the result of an act manifesting itself with some kind of aggressivity. This act in itself is already an attempt to appropriate the other person, so as to use him in some way, rob him, destroy him, destroy his person or personality, setting apart the well-founded cases which are not of our concern in this example. What I am talking about is the abuse of a power, whether it be real or unreal, known or desired, over the other, this other person being presumed unable to react when faced to such a display of strength.

Assuming power

In the animal world, the power of an individual or clan in the bosom of a larger group of the same kind matches quite definite criteria, generally in relation to reproduction, preservation or to the defense of a species. As a consequence, it is borne and finally accepted by the whole group; in case of any attempt to contest, genetic or merely ancestral rituals are meant to clarify the situation.

In human societies, particularly in ours which would like itself to be more modern in some respect, the need for assuming power over the other person seems to me more like a dysfunction, or even a disease, which are fully created by the behaviours induced by civilization. Uncertainty about one’s own power, as well as the conditionings exerted by all those already installed in the bosom of society bring about frustration and lead human beings to try to reconquer their power through words or even acts, trying where this power doesn’t lie, where they won’t find it, that is in the other person who anyway does not detain it. But on the other hand, it forces them mentally to take all the risks implied by this vain hope. The arising of such aggressivity is often due to a lack or deficit of one’s own power, whether admitted or not, that one tries to make up. Pressure undergone and felt, hence experienced as such, sometimes since early childhood brings in people the will to reappropriate what they feel intimately robbed of, deprived of, or even what they just lost. It makes them dangerous persons, merely due to their frustration. We can all understand and feel that kind of thing when helplessly faced to an administration, or when put under power by somebody against whom there’s apparently no possible opposition. From that point, there’s just one step to becoming aggressive, which some people take, while others manage to be reasonable, resign themselves because they have already accepted this state of domination out of habit and they daily undergo it. If a few people are only hardly moved, it’s because they have already overcome these difficulties and are not damaged in their own power, never having lost it or having already recovered it.


« It’s a case of the biter bit » says the proverb and this reversal of perspective is indeed what happens when seizing. We forget too easily that the one who is seizing becomes prisoner of what he has seized. He can’t get rid of it without risking to lose something in the process he has initiated. His freedom, if he has any at all, is now transferred to the one he thought he could detain or retain. He becomes a jailer to the other person, who will only think of getting free, who will put all his strength, intelligence, sometimes all his craftiness or even perfidiousness into it, because he is totally within his right and nobody can blame him for it. Our society generates this type of alienating behaviour in which both persons try to free themselves, one against the other, instead of moving to another dimension which would be more human, intelligent, and respectful of the this other person. Wanting to change these behaviours might seem utopic, yet if Aïkido exists and continues to be an art at the service of mankind, it is maybe to assert and demonstrate that, like others have already stated, other relations are possible between people and we aïkidokas are not the only ones who wish to continue in this direction.

Respiration, an answer to a specific situation

It is through ventral respiration and the calmness it brings about that one can find the immediate solution to some difficult situations. To prepare for that, it is not absolutely necessary to be an outstanding technician, or someone brave as a blizzard, or a very competent analyst but on the other hand there is need to recover this force which has taken refuge at the very bottom of our body, of our kokoro, or which even sometimes has been scattered in multiple defense systems. Trying to find a defensive solution in violent martial arts when faced with the awareness of our weakness, real or assumed, is just dodging the issue, seeking an alternative, or worse, forging ahead regardless. Aïkido, by its philosophy, suggests another direction but if this fails to be heard and above all understood, it may well cause Aikido to lose its justification, its singularity.

Attacks in Aïkido are just a way of setting a situation in order to enable practitioners to solve a problem, or even a conflict, which by the way puts them in opposition more with themselves than to with their partners. Seizings, for instance, often represent attempts to immobilize the body, therefore to block the other’s movement, through imprisonment of the wrists, arms, trunk, keïkogi or any other part which can be grabbed for this purpose. Sometimes, however, seizings may follow on from an attempt to strike that has failed. They are seldom solely a matter of blocking; considered in the perspective of a fight, they should almost always be followed by an Atemi or a final immobilization. They are only the first act, the first scene of a play which is much longer, if one may say so. It might seem paradoxical but it is through working on seizings that one will discover detachment.

Sensibility, instinct

Quite before seizing or hitting materializes, our sensibility is touched by something invisible even though very physical. This may be inexplicable as scientific knowledge currently stands, but this is something we know well, and even sometimes very well. That’s what makes us move, dodge, although we have seen nothing but simply felt it in an indefinable way. In order to give a clearer example, one which everybody has been able to verify in one way or another, in different circumstances, I would like to write about gazing. Gazing carries an energy, an extremely concrete Ki that our instinct can perceive. Haven’t you ever experienced, while taking a walk one evening or one night, feeling something indescribable behind you as if someone was gazing at you, watching you; you turn around, nobody there, and still the sensation lingers? The sensation, if you are not at peace, can turn into anxiety or perhaps trigger an « irrational-since-there’s-nobody » fear, when at the angle of the street behind a half-opened curtain you suddenly discover somebody observing you – or on an overhanging roof a cat watching you. The gaze of cats, and of animals in general, as well as the gaze of humans when intently observing something or somebody, carries an extremely powerful Ki. Our instinct can feel it, but it all depends on our state of mind at that moment. If we are talking with a friend, if we are lost in our thoughts after a love encounter for instance, our instinct, if not well-prepared, will have difficulty feeling this kind of things. The same obviously applies when we are worried, frightened or anguished, in this case all our being is somehow weakened, it loses its instinctive abilities.

Discovering the direction taken by Ki

Aïkido enables us to re-discover and conduct our instinctive abilities. It is thanks to a slow work on ourselves and our sensations that will appear again what we have often let go to sleep, rocked as we were by the comfort due to modern society which may seem so reassuring to us.

The work based on seizing corresponds, like everything we do in Aïkido, to a process of renewed learning and to a training of the body as a whole so that there will no longer be any separation between body and spirit. First of all, when our partner gets closer, there is no question of waiting kindly for him to seize us as requested, our whole body must feel the directions followed by the different parts of his body: arms, legs, his bearing points, all of this without looking, without observing, because it would already be too late. With unexperienced beginners, if the exercise is done slowly enough, they will be able to discover the routes taken by their partner’s Ki, the force lines. Since they work without any risk, they start again trusting the reactions and sensations of their bodies. During sessions, I don’t only show the techniques, I am constantly on the move, serving as Uke to one person, as Tori to another; without blocking them, I make them feel the direction their body must take by putting myself in the situation, making ki more material, by materializing the force lines, visualizing the openings they can use, while allowing them to act and respond as they will.

Discovering the Non-doing

Seizing can be a first step on the path that leads to what Lao Tseu and Tchouang Tseu would name Wu wei, the Non-acting, and it was the basis of my master Itsuo Tsuda’s teaching. How to teach what can’t be taught, how to show the invisible, how to guide a beginner or even an experienced practitioner towards what is the essence of the practice in our School? What is difficult to explain with words is easily understood when we let sensation guide us. To do so we have to take a few steps backward. To let go of our acquiring and piling up habits, those consumer reflexes of people always ready to fill up their trolleys with various products, techniques which are more or less modern, fashionable or old style, miraculous, easy and effortless, or even tough but efficient. Advertising is today the source of many illusions, luring its clients with colorful wonders of a world that has become so virtual. When will the new Wii console enable us to practice Aïkido with enhanced reality glasses and a partner whose potentiometer can be adjusted depending on our level, our shape, or our mood? But maybe I am behind and it already exists.

Seizing with Ki

Young children know and naturally use a certain way of seizing which is extremely efficient. It is a seizure devoid of any useless contraction. When they seize a toy they put all their ki into the act and when they let go of this toy they do it with complete indifference, there is no more Ki in it. On the other hand they have an incredible capacity when they don’t want to let go of what they have seized and are holding tight in their small hand. If this is something dangerous, their parents must sometimes unfold their fingers one by one, though their hand is so small and devoid of any true muscular strength as adults mean it. They know in a manner completely unconscious how to use Ki, they don’t need to learn, unfortunately they often lose this ability for the benefit of what is reasonable and most of the time education and schooling are responsible for this.

To learn again how to seize like a small child, without tension, and thus discover natural prehension. I often give as an example the way birds alight on a branch: they have skin micro-sensors in the middle of their paws which inform receptors which, thanks to these indications, stimulate reflex functions at the level of the involuntary, and give the order to their fingers to close as soon as they touch the branch. This manner of seizing avoids contortions, failures, and enables a very subtle adequacy of the members to the place caught (they catch). A quality seizure is a seizure which uses the palm of the hand as first contact, then the fingers close up on the object, the limb, the Keïkogi. If we act in this way, seizing is faster, without any excessive tensions, and it has remarkable efficiency, allowing therefore a good quality work with a partner.

The only seizures which respect the other one’s freedom are light but powerful, like for instance that of a small child who wants to take along one of his parents to look at a small frog he’s just seen in the tall grass and is curious about, or like that of two beings, friends or lovers, bound by tenderness and respectful of each other.

Want to receive future articles? Subscribe to the newsletter :

(1) Itsuo Tsuda, The Path of Less, p. 175, Yume Editions, Paris, 2015 (trans. from La Voie du dépouillement, Le Courrier du Livre, 1975)

Article by Régis Soavi published in Dragon Magazine (speciale Aikido n° 25) april 2019.





Misogi 禊 is widely practised among shintoists.
It consists of an ablution, sometimes under a waterfall, in a stream, or in the sea and allows a purification of the body at both physical and psychical levels. In a broader sense, Misogi encompasses a whole process of spiritual awakening. Misogi is also a way to relieve the being of what overwhelms him, so to allow him to wake up to life. Water has always been considered one of its essential elements.

Like water, Aîkido is a way to achieve Misogi

Founder of Aïkido O Senseï Morihei Ueshiba kept on telling his students that the practice of this Art is above all a Misogi.

Aïkido is one of the Japanese martial arts for which the main character, the very nature, is, like water, fluidity. The teaching brought by Itsuo Tsuda Senseï who was during ten years a direct student of the Founder Moriheï Ueshiba has definitely confirmed it. Although his words seem to have largely been forgotten, he kept on repeating that « in Aïkido there is no fighting, it’s just the art of uniting and separating ». However, when you watch an Aïkido session, it seems that two people are fighting each other. In fact one of them plays the role of the assaillant, but in real he is a partner, facing him there is no aggressivity, you won’t see any malicious gesture, no violence, even if the response to the attack may be impressive because of its efficiency.

Overall, the Aïkido practised in the Itsuo Tsuda School is an Art of great fluidity, an art in which sensitivity and caring for the partner have the main part, and it is always through the smoothness of a first part practised individually that an Aïkido session begins.

Far from starting with warm-up exercices, an Aïkido session begins with smooth, slow but still invigorating exercises. Breathing coordination is essential, as it allows us to harmonize with Ki, and thereby to take a step forward to discover a world with an additionnal dimension, the « World of Ki »

This world is not a revelation, it’s more what comes to light, what appears clearly when one recovers one’s sensitivity, when rigidity vanishes into thin air and that the living appears through. It is often women who first understand the importance of such a way of practising. That is why so many women practise in our school because they have experienced the bitter taste of sexist oppression in our society and they find in this art a way, a path, far beyong the simple martial art.

Ki, a driving force

Ai 合 Union, Harmony
Ki 気 Vital energy, Life
Do道 Path, Way, Tao

Ki is not a concept, a mystical energy nor a sort of mental illusion. We can feel Ki. In fact everybody knows what it is, even if, in Western countries nowadays, we don’t give it a name. Learning to feel it, to recognize it, to make the most of it, is necessary for who wants to practise a martial art, and even more if you practise Aïkido. In Aikido, if you don’t focus on Ki, only the empty form of its contents remains, this form becomes quickly a fight, a struggle in which the strongest, or the most cunning will manage to defeat his partner. We are really far away from the founder’s teaching for whom it was an art of peace, an art in which there is neither winner, nor defeated. Each movement of the partner is accompanied by a complementary movement from the other partner, like the water that marries each roughness, every nook, leaving nothing behind or separate.

Calligraphie de Itsuo Tsuda

If the beginnings are usually tough, it’s because people have lost part of their mobility
and mostly because they have become hard so to be protected from the world around. They’ve built a carapace, an armor, certainly protective, but which has become a second nature and an invisible prison. To have Ki flow in our body again, so to recover fluidity, and follow a teaching based on sensitivity enables us to understand physically the Yin and the Yang.

Bathing in a sea of Ki

Exercices and basic or advanced techniques have not only in common the breath which is nothing but the materialization or even better the visualisation of Ki, but they also allow to become aware of our body, physically and of our sphere of ki, which the Indians call the AURA, and that we have today practically forgotten almost everywhere.

What modern science and in particular neuroscience has been discovering for a few years is only a small part of what everyone can discover on his own and put into practice in his daily life simply through the practice of Aïkido as Itsuo Tsuda Senseï taught it.

He would repeat over and over again that Aïkido as presented by his Master Morihei Ueshiba is the union of Ka the inspiration, the ascending force, the square, the weft and Mi, the exhalation, the downward force, the cercle, the chain.
Ka being in Japanese a pronounciation for 火 fire (which appears for example as a radical in the word Kasaï 火災, wild fire) and Mi the first syllable of Mizu 水 water, the whole forming the word KAMI 神 which means divine in the sense of the divine nature of all things. Itsuo Tsuda would add that « In this gloss one mustn’t see a similar value to that of a scientific etymology. It comes from punning, the use of which is common among mystics ». [1]

I have never seen such fluid movements as when he wanted us to feel a technique he showed to us. Moreover, in his dojo there used to be no accidents, nobody injured, everything would be in a flow of Ki both respectfull and generous but at the same time firm and rigorous, that I can hardly find today in the sports halls where aïkidokas have their trainings.

The dojo, an essential place

Do we really need a special place to practise Aïkido? If we talk about the surface we need for falls, we could lay tatamis anywhere, from the moment we are sheltered from bad weather.
In his book Cœur de ciel pur Itsuo Tsuda gives us his extremely clear view of what should be a dojo, he who was Japanese was in the best posititon to give us a glimpse.

« The School of Respiration is materially a “dojo”, this particular space in the East, which refers less to the material place itself, than to the energy space. As I said before, a dojo is not a space divided into parts and provided for certain exercices. It’s a place where spacetime is not the same as in a secular place. The atmosphere is particularly intense. One enters and leaves the space bowing so to get sacralized and desacralized.
Spectators are admitted, provided they respect this atmosphere […]. They are not to parody the practice for free, with word or gesture. I am told that in France [or in Italy] one can come across dojos that are simply gyms or sports centers. Anyhow, as far as I am concerned, I want my dojo to be a dojo and not a sports club with a boss and its regulars, so as not to disturb the sincerity of the practitionners. This does not mean that they must keep a sullen and constipated face. On the contrary, we must maintain the spirit of peace, communion and joy. » [2]

A sacred space therefore and yet fundamentally non religious, a secular space, a space of great simplicity where the freedom to be as we are exists, beyond the social. And not what we have become with all the compromises we had to accept in order to survive in society. This freedom remains inside us, deep within us in our intimate heart, our Kokoro 心 as Japanese language talks so well about it, and is only asking for a chance to be revealed.

Notes :
1 Itsuo Tsuda The Science of the Particular, Yume Editions 2015 p. 137
2 Itsuo Tsuda (posth.) Cœur de ciel pur, ed. Le Courrier du Livre 2014 p. 113 [trans. Itsuo Tsuda School]

Taiheki, the revelator

By Régis Soavi.

Noro Sensei, in the 70’s, used to tell us that O Sensei Morihei Ueshiba would sometimes reproach his learners for their lack of attention when they phoned from a phone booth, concentrated as they were on their conversation: “You must be ready under any circumstances, whatever you do!” he would say.

Aikido opts for a natural position, with no guard stance, which is called Shizen Tai. But a natural posture is not a laid-back posture as we understand it today, concentration and attention mustn’t be eased in any case. Given that the most widespread guard stance in Aikido remains Hammi no Kamae, it depends more than we believe, on the polarization of energy in the body, as do all the other guards.

Kamae, the body’s instinct

I remember what Maroteaux Sensei had told us during one of my first Aikido sessions at the “Montagne Sainte-Geneviève” dojo: “You open the door, a dog jumps at your throat, what do you do?” Obviously I remained speechless, but this question he had asked us had shattered me – I was a young practioner of martial arts quite sure of himself at the time –  and this became the root of my research on Kamae.

Assuming a guard stance is the response to an act of aggression or to the sensation of danger. This response, coming from someone who does not know martial arts, will be instinctive whereas it will be the result of training coming from a practioner. Personal research can lead the practitioner to use his body in a manner different from what he had learned and for this he will find a positioning or a guard that suits him, sometimes a more appropriate one, sometimes one meant as a trap suggesting an opening or a weakness on his part. Even if there are many ways to assume a guard stance, hence to protect ourselves, we must take our own body into account, in spite of all we have learned, despite the many years of training, ultimately instinct will be our guide. The work in martial arts, far from being pointless, will rather be in this case a backing, a support. Training may sometimes induce over-confidence, a belief in techniques, postures which, though beautiful on pictures or on the tatamis, do not correspond to any reality in daily life. Finding the right posture depends on each person’s body. Far too many practitioners try by working very hard to model their body in order to bring it into line with the idea they have of their art, or more simply with the efficiency they hope to gain. We consider the aesthetics of the art but then we miss its depth. We can see the work which has been done but we are not aware of the deformations acquired because of it. So many students repeat an incredible number of times the same exercise, the same technique thus hoping to reach the mastery of their art by imitating the master or simply the teacher, while they are instead following the path of deformation without realizing. One shall not be surprised by the number of accidents or disabilities resulting from this. How many people are unable to practice anymore because of a knee, an elbow, a wrist or their back, though they are still young and full of energy?

Noguchi haruchika. Taiheki
Noguchi Haruchika créateur du seitai

The Kamae depend on the Taiheki

Seitai brought us a remarkable tool, the study of corporal tendencies which Noguchi Haruchika Sensei called Taiheki. Tsuda Sensei gave a first description of them, which though brief was already a revelation when his first book The Non-Doing was published in the early seventies. Later he supplemented this teaching in the books which followed over the years, continually giving examples which enabled one to understand Taiheki better. Reading Noguchi Sensei’s texts also enabled us to deepen our knowledge of human behaviors and particularly of their relationship with the body. Comprehending the bodily movements of individuals enables to help beginners improve their posture, so they do not deform themselves. Since explaining this teaching to uninformed readers would require a whole book, all I can do is give a few indications, without going into details.
The Taiheki classification developed by Noguchi Sensei is based on human involuntary motion. It is not a typology meant to make people fit into small boxes, but rather to identify the habitual behavioural tendencies, at the same time taking into account the interpenetrations that may occur between them.

This classification includes six groups: each of the first five is related to a lumbar vertebra, the last group being more related to a global state of the body rather than to the spinal column. According to either the “Yang” or the “Yin” aspect, each group is divided into two subgroups or types, called “active” or “passive”. In order to fully understand the interest of such a study, I have chosen a few examples which seem to me more telling than other in the light of the Taiheki.

La posture taiheki

Taiheki, the revelator

According to the classification, the first group is also called the “vertical category” and it is related to the first lumbar vertebra. The energy tends to polarize to the brain.

Type 1, for instance, is extremely confident with respect to Kamae, his position is unchangeable and he is able to explain it to everybody, in a very logical way. Even with little experience he at once has an idea on the topic and sticks to it. Since his heels tend to get off the ground because of the tension he has in the cervical vertebrae, he will for example develop a theory according to which this position allows you to jump faster and further in case of attack and will refute any contradiction, until another idea emerges which will seemto him more brilliant and relevant.

Type 2 knows everything on the Kamae in almost all martial arts, the historical origins, the value of each one and its major flaws, the contribution of each master. He even knows little stories illustrating what he says, he is a mine of knowledge who doesn’t hesitate to complete it as soon as he feels a lack somewhere in his argumentation or his references.

The second group is called the “lateral category” and it is related to the second lumbar vertebra. The energy tends to polarize to the digestive system.

Type 3 is a bon vivant, when he practices martial arts he chooses his club according to the ambiance rather than to the efficiency of the art he is being taught, or to the reputation of the master. All these stories about postures, guard stances, are of little interest to him, as usual he has his own little opinion about this topic, and he likes or dislikes, which means it is convenient to him or not.

Type 4, on the other hand is always restrained in his manner, it’s hard to know what he thinks. An affable person, he seldom gives his opinion, even if a debate initiates about the value of different Kamae, he doesn’t have any real opinion, everything seems possible to him depending on the circumstances. He is rather a diplomatic, moderate kind of person.

The third category is called the “pulmonary category”or “forwards/backwards category” and it is related to the fifth lumbar vertebra. The energy tends to polarize to the respiratory system.

Type 5 doesn’t like to argue about nothing, a stance must have a practical meaning, either it is efficient, or it is not. We must check, and if it works, move ahead… Dodging is not his strong point, he prefers Omote techniques to Ura techniques. Because the bearing point of his posture tends to be the fifth lumbar vertebra, his shoulders lean forward and this incites him to act. He is easily combative but knows how to leave himself a way out if necessary.

Type 6 has too much tension in the shoulders to be able to act in a simple way. When this tension relaxes, it releases a huge amount of energy that goes off in all directions and that even he himself can’t handle. In front of him, no guard stance is possible, he is completely out of control and unpredictable at the risk of putting himself in danger.

The fourth category is called the “twisted category” and it is related to the third lumbar vertebrae. The energy tends to polarize to the urinary system. Some Taiheki may a priori seem to be a help in assuming a good guard stance, as it is the case with the “twisted category” (type 7 or 8), because in order to defend themselves they instinctively adopt a kind of posture, rather a profile position, with arched lumbar vertebrae, one foot forward etc. The posture may look ideal, to strike a pose or on a picture. But apart from the precision of the position and the bearing points, the ability to move depends obviously and maybe mainly on the state of mind. There is a huge difference, which will completely change the deal, between a type 7 twist and a type 8 one. To put it in a simple way, I would say that the type 7 wants to win whereas the type 8 doesn’t want to lose. The whole posture changes, one gets ready to pounce, the other to try dodging. Furthermore, the people of the twisted category have a permanent agitation which in this case turns out harmful. They are so restless all they are waiting for is to take action. Waiting is unbearable to them; unable to take it any longer, all of a sudden they get started, never mind if it is not the right moment.

Première image: Noguchi Haruchika Sensei 1911-1976, founder of Seitai.
Deuxième image: To find the right posture depends on the body of each Finding the right posture depends on each person’s body
Troisième image: We look at the aesthetics of the art but as a result we miss its depth.

The fifth group is called « pelvian » or « pelvis » group and it is related to the fourth lumbar vertebra. Its energy is not polarized towards a definite part of the body, it is the body as a whole which stretches and releases from the hips with one blow.

Type 9 is an example of continuity, when he practices martial arts, he tends to make it his unique reason of living, the trend of his pelvis to close gives to his koshi a lot of strength that makes his learning easier but he has got a predisposition to perfecting that may sometimes go to the point of absurdity. He cares about details and will perfect kamae to the slightest element, as long as his posture isn’t perfect according to his views he won’t be satisfied, but this unsatisfaction, far from discouraging him, is precisely what pushes him forward. Nothing can be opposed to him, his only reference is inner satisfaction. Like Osensei Morihei Ueshiba as well as other great masters, he may come to the conclusion that the natural position is the ideal kamae because it transcends all the others. But this natural position is the fruit of his many years of work and training, not a theoretical facility nor a slackening on his part.

As for type 10, he considers that a good guard stance is indispensable, that it is a guarantee of stability and that if we respected others, there would be no conflict. His open pelvis generally makes him someone very friendly, he has a great sensitivity and his intuition is fearsome. His open posture prevents him from being aggressive, he will tend to perform Ura techniques at which he is better and his guard will be more in the direction of absorbing the attack rather than repelling it.

The two last types that form the last group are, actually, states of the body called hypersensitive and apathetic.

Type 11 fails to have a precise and defined guard stand, because of his hypersensitivity, he is an unsettled person, unable to find benchmarks. His guard stand is imprecise, even confused or messy and almost every time totally ineffective. Fear tends to liquefy his legs. In his case, Aikido can be an excellent activity, provided the teacher understands his difficulties well and doesn’t rush him, so as to to lead him to a normal sensitivity.

On the contrary, type 12 is an example of rigidity, his guard stance is very physical and often lacks flexibility, he’s able to take any blow without flinching. His body may sometimes have a certain muscle laxity in the joints but this doesn’t make him less rigid.

It is according to Taiheki that one can understand the uselessness of a given posture, hence of a given kamae. Support points being different from an individual to another, the potential for mobility or simply for movement is basically different too. So it’s no use proposing an exercise, which even if it makes the apparent posture better, destroys the person in the very bases, or at least might cause physical as well as mental deformations.

Kamae and rigidification

Tsuda Sensei considered that rigidification and slackening of individuals are a part of the great flaws induced by our modern societies, but he did know that these problems existed long before, that they are inherent in human society. In his book The Path of Gods he tells an anecdote about kamae which I found once more very evocative. It is significant of the risks to which imagination may expose people, even those whose profession it was, like the samourai.

« Involuntary contraction gets stronger as imagination is filled with fear. Fear doesn’t remain in the head. It paralyzes the whole body. The wrists especially lose flexibility and the arms become insensitive. That’s what happened to two samourais fighting a duel in a story I read somewhere. They were holding their sabre with both hands and were facing each other several meters apart. At this distance, they were still safe whatever they did but their faces were already pale. They were probably soaked in cold sweat. They stayed there at the same distance for some time. Finally they got closer, one of them was lying on the ground and the other was standing. The fight was over. But the winner was staying there, unable to let go of his sabre because his fingers were clenched on the handle. The contraction was such that it was difficult for him to loosen them ».

If we want to avoid rigidification that can be caused by guard stands which don’t agree with us or imply constraints that deform us, only commonsense and personal search for balance can allow that to us. There’s no definitive solution for all problems and forever.

Want to receive future articles? Subscribe to the newsletter :

Article by Régis Soavi published in Dragon Magazine (speciale Aikido n° 23) jan.2019.

(1) Itsuo Tsuda, The Non-doing, Yume Editions, Paris, 2014 (trans. from Le Non-faire, Le Courrier du Livre, 1973)

(2) Itsuo Tsuda La Voie des dieux, Le Courrier du Livre, 1982, p. 60.

Crédit photos
Régis Sirvent
Sara Rossetti


Les principes Seitai, qu’on peut même qualifier de « philosophie Seitai » ‒ manière de voir, de penser le monde ‒ furent élaborés par Haruchika Noguchi (1911-1976) dans la première moitié du vingtième siècle. Pour résumer brièvement (!) le Seitai est une « méthode » ou une « philosophie » qui englobe le Seitai soho, les Taiso, le Katsugen undo, le Katsugen soho, et le Yukiho. Des pratiques qui se complètent, s’interpénètrent, et constituent l’ampleur de la pensée Seitai de Haruchika Noguchi. On peut aussi citer l’étude des Taiheki (tendances posturales), l’utilisation du bain chaud, l’éducation du subconscient, l’importance de la naissance, de la maladie et de la mort…
Un art de vivre du début à la fin.

Aujourd’hui malheureusement le terme « Seitai » est galvaudé et désigne tout et n’importe quoi. Certains praticiens de thérapies manuelles se réclament trop facilement du Seitai (Itsuo Tsuda disait qu’il fallait vingt ans pour former un technicien au Seitai soho !). Quand aux charlatans qui proposent de vous transformer en quelques séances…, n’en parlons pas ! L’amplitude de l’art de vivre, la compréhension globale de l’Homme dans le Seitai semblent bien loin. Si il ne reste qu’une technique à appliquer sur des patients, l’essentiel est perdu. Si il ne reste du Katsugen undo qu’un moment pour se « ressourcer », l’essentiel est perdu.

Haruchika Noguchi et Itsuo Tsuda allèrent tout deux beaucoup plus loin que cela dans leur compréhension de l’Homme. Et les graines qu’ils ont semées, les indices qu’ils ont laissés pour que les êtres humains puissent évoluer sont importants. Peut-on alors parler d’une voie, du Seitai-dō (道 dō/tao) ? Car il s’agit d’un changement de point de vue radical, d’un bouleversement, d’un horizon totalement différent qui s’ouvre.

Reprenons le fil de l’histoire…

La rencontre avec Haruchika Noguchi : l’individu dans sa totalité

Itsuo Tsuda rencontra Haruchika Noguchi aux alentours de 1950. C’est l’approche de l’être humain telle que proposée dans le Seitai qui l’intéressa de suite. L’acuité de l’observation des individus pris dans leur globalité/complexité indivisible que Itsuo Tsuda découvrit chez Noguchi s’inscrivait dans le prolongement de ce qui avait retenu son intérêt lors de ses études en France auprès de Marcel Mauss (anthropologue) et Marcel Granet (sinologue). Itsuo Tsuda commença alors à suivre l’enseignement de Noguchi et ce pendant plus de vingt ans. Il eut le sixième dan de Seitai.

« Maître Noguchi, m’a permis de voir les choses d’une façon très concrète. À travers ces manifestations de chaque individu, il est possible de voir ce qui agit à l’intérieur. C’est une approche tout à fait différente de l’approche analytique : la tête, le cœur, les organes digestifs, chacun prend dans sa spécialité et puis, le corps d’un côté, le psychique de l’autre, n’est-ce pas. Eh bien, il a permis de voir l’homme, c’est-à-dire l’individu concret, dans sa totalité. »1

La maladie conçue comme un facteur d’équilibre

D’autant que c’est précisément dans les années cinquante que Haruchika Noguchi, qui avait découvert très tôt ses capacités de guérisseur, décidait de renoncer à la thérapeutique. Il créa alors la notion de Seitai, c’est-à-dire de « terrain normalisé ».

« Le mot « terrain » étant entendu comme l’ensemble qui constitue l’individu, le psychique et le physique, tandis qu’en Occident on divise toujours en psychique, et puis physique. »2

Le changement d’optique vis-à-vis de la maladie fût décisif dans cette réorientation de Noguchi.

« La maladie est une chose naturelle, c’est un effort de l’organisme qui tente de récupérer l’équilibre perdu. […] Il est bon que la maladie existe, mais il faut que les hommes se libèrent de son assujettissement, de son esclavage. C’est ainsi que Noguchi est arrivé à concevoir la notion de Seitai, la normalisation du terrain, si on veut. On ne s’occupe pas des maladies, il est inutile de guérir. Si on normalise le terrain, les maladies disparaissent d’elles-mêmes. Et de plus, on devient plus vigoureux qu’avant. Adieu la thérapeutique. Finie la lutte contre les maladies. »3

Itsuo Tsuda. Photo de Eva Rodgold©
Yuki. Itsuo Tsuda. Photo de Eva Rodgold©
Un chemin vers l’autonomie

L’abandon de la thérapeutique va aussi de pair avec le désir de sortir des rapports de dépendance qui lient le patient au thérapeute. Noguchi souhaitait permettre aux individus la prise de conscience de leurs capacités ignorées, les réveiller au plein épanouissement de leur être. Durant les vingt années où ils se côtoyèrent les deux hommes passèrent de longs moments à parler philosophie, art etc., et Noguchi trouva dans la vaste culture de l’intellectuel qu’était Tsuda de quoi nourrir et élargir ses observations et réflexions personnelles. Un rapport d’enrichissement mutuel se construisit ainsi entre eux.

Itsuo Tsuda fût rédacteur à la revue Zensei, publiée par l’Institut Seitai et il participa activement aux études menées par Noguchi sur les Taiheki « tendances posturales ». Comme le rapporte un texte de Haruchika Noguchi publié dans la revue Zensei de janvier 1978, c’est Itsuo Tsuda qui avança l’hypothèse ‒validée par Noguchi ‒ que le type neuf « bassin fermé », soit l’archétype de l’être primitif.4

La mise au point du Katsugen undo par Noguchi intéressa particulièrement Itsuo Tsuda, qui saisit d’emblée l’importance de cet outil, notamment en ce qui concerne la possibilité de permettre aux individus de retrouver leur autonomie, de ne plus avoir besoin de dépendre d’aucun spécialiste. Bien que conscient et admiratif de la précision et de la portée profonde de la technique du Seitai soho, Tsuda considéra que la diffusion du Katsugen undo était plus importante que l’enseignement de la technique. Aussi fut-il à l’initiative des groupes de Mouvement régénérateur (Katsugen kai) qui se constituaient un peu partout au Japon.

Conférence d'Itsuo Tsuda. Photo de Eva Rodgold©
Conférence d’Itsuo Tsuda. Photo de Eva Rodgold©

Itsuo Tsuda a privilégié la diffusion du Katsugen undo en Europe comme porte d’entrée vers le Seitai.

Aujourd’hui, même au Japon, le Seitai soho a pris une orientation qui le rapproche d’une thérapie. Un problème : une technique à appliquer. Le Katsugen undo devient une sorte de gymnastique « light » de bien-être, de détente. On est loin du réveil du vivant, de la capacité autonome du corps à réagir dont il est question dans le Seitai de Haruchika Noguchi.

L’exercice de yuki, qui est l’alpha et l’oméga du Seitai, se pratique à chaque séance de Katsugen undo. Ainsi, bien que Tsuda n’ait pas enseigné la technique du Seitai soho, il en a transmis l’essence, l’acte le plus simple, cette « non technique » qu’est yuki. Celle qui nous sert tous les jours, celle qui sensibilise progressivement les mains, le corps. Cette sensation physique, réelle, expérimentable par tous, est aujourd’hui trop souvent considérée comme une technique spéciale, réservée à une élite. On oublie que c’est un acte humain et instinctif. La pratique du Katsugen undo mutuel (avec un partenaire) se perd aussi, même dans les groupes ayant suivit l’enseignement de Tsuda. Quel dommage ! Car à travers le yuki et le Katsugen undo mutuel, le corps redécouvre les sensations, celles qui ne passent pas par l’analyse mentale. Ce dialogue dans le silence, qui nous fait découvrir l’autre de l’intérieur et qui nous ramène donc à nous même, à notre être intérieur. Yuki et le Katsugen undo sont pour nous des outils indispensables, préconisés par Haruchika Noguchi, pour cheminer vers un « terrain normal ».

Mais le temps passe et les choses se déforment, comme les paroles de sagesse de certains deviennent des oppressions religieuses… Petit à petit le Katsugen undo n’est plus qu’un moment pour se « ressourcer », se détendre et surtout ne rien changer à sa vie, à sa stabilité. Le Seitai, une méthode pour maigrir après l’accouchement… Alors qu’il s’agit d’une orientation de la vie, d’une pensée globale. Le pas immense que fit Haruchika Noguchi en sortant de l’idée de thérapeutique est une avancée majeure dans l’histoire de l’humanité. Sa compréhension globale de l’individu, la sensibilité au ki, retrouver suffisamment de sensibilité, de centre en soi-même pour écouter son propre corps et agir librement.

Il ne s’agit même pas d’opposition entre des méthodes, des théories, des civilisations. Il s’agit purement et simplement d’évolution de l’humanité.

Manon Soavi

Notes :

  1. Itsuo Tsuda, Interview sur France Culture, Maître Tsuda s’explique sur le Mouvement régénérateur, émission N° 3, début des années 1980.
  2. Itsuo Tsuda, Interview sur France Culture, op. cité, émission N° 4, début des années 1980.
  3. Itsuo Tsuda, Le Dialogue du Silence, Paris, Le Courrier du Livre, 2006 (1979), p.64-65
  4. Sur le sujet des Taiheki, consulter Itsuo Tsuda Le Non-Faire Le Courrier du Livre, (1973)

Ukemi : the flow of Ki

by Régis Soavi

The fall in our art is more than a liberation, mere consequence of an action. It is the Yin or Yang of a whole, the Tao. In practice, at the end of the technique, Tori emanates a yang energy : if he wants to avoid injuring his partner, Tori lets him absorb this yang energy and transfer it to the fall.

Aïkido is an art where there is no loser, an art dedicated to human beings, to the intuition of humans, to their adaptability, and going beyond the contradiction brought by a technique by means of the fall is nothing else than adaptability to it. Not to teach a beginner how to fall would amount to putting him in a situation of handicap from the start and risking discouragement, or to shaping a spirit of resentment, or even of revenge.

There are different attitudes among beginners, those who hurl themselves at the risk of getting hurt, and those who, because of fear, contract when about to fall and who of course take a bad fall and suffer painful consequences if you force them. My answer to this problem is softness and time…

When surprised by a noise, an act, the first reaction is to breathe in and block the breath, this is a reflex and vital functioning that prepares the answer and therefore the action. Surprise starts a series of biomechanical processes which are totally involuntary, it is already too late for reasoning. It is by breathing out that the solution to the problem will come. If there is no risk after all, or if the reaction is exaggerated and the risk minor, one drops the blocking and the breath is released in a natural way (ha, the usual sigh of relief). If there is danger, whether great or small, we are ready for action, ready to act thanks to the breath, thanks to breathing out. Problems occur when, for instance, we don’t know what to do, when the solution doesn’t arise immediately, we remain blocked in inspiration, with our lungs full of air, unable to move. It’s a disaster ! It’s approximately the same pattern that occurs when we are a beginner, our partner is performing a technique and the logical answer that will enable us to get free, and thus to fix up this conflictual problem is the Ukemi. But if one is afraid to fall, if one has not had the technical training of many forward and backward rollings done in a slow, nice and easy way, one remains with lungs blown up like a soccer ball, and if the technique is completed, one ends up on the floor, with more or less damage done.
Bouncing painfully on the tatamis like the aforesaid ball would then be the least harm. Learning to let go as soon as absolutely necessary, not falling before by caution, as this impairs Tori’s sensation and gives him a false idea of the value of his technique and often of himself. Grasping the right moment to breathe out and land softly on the tatamis without any air left in the lungs. Then as for the clapped falls, which one does when more advanced, it will be enough to breathe out faster and let oneself go so that the body finds the right receiving position by itself.

Training in the ancient way !

My own training through Judo in the early sixties, in Parisian suburbs, was very different. To us school youngsters, Judo was a way to expend our energy and canalize what otherwise ended badly, that is turned into struggles and other kinds of street fights. The training, twice a week, required two essential things : absolute respect to our teacher and learning how to fall. It was still a time when our teacher transmitted the « Japanese » Judo without weight categories. In spite of Anton Geesink’s recent victory at the Olympic Games, he would define himself as a traditionalist. Falls were one of the lessons’ foundations : rolling forward, backward, sideways, we used to spend about twenty minutes practicing that before performing the techniques, and sometimes, when he would not find us focused enough, too much scattered, he would say : « Turn your kimonos inside out so you won’t dirty them » and we would go out for a series of forward falls, in the small paved blind alley in front of the dojo. Afterwards, we were not afraid to fall anymore, well, that is, those who still wanted to continue !

The world has changed, society has evolved, would today’s parents agree to trust such a « barbarian » with their progenies, besides there are rules, protective laws, insurances.

Bob- that was his name- felt a responsibility for our training, and teaching us how to fall whatever the circumstances and on any sort of ground was part of his values and his duty was to retransmit them to us.

Bodies have changed, through food, lack of exercise, overintellectualization ; how can we pass on the message that learning physically how to fall is a necessity, provided that the results of it will be ascertained only several years later. What benefit is to be expected of it, what profitability, nowadays everything is accounted for, there’s no time to lose. It is the philosophy of Aïkido which attracts new practitioners, so that’s where our chance lies to pass on the message of this necessity.


Aïkido, by nature and above all because of the orientation O Senseï Moriheï Ueshiba gave to it, carries a vision of the fall completely different from that of Boxing or Judo for instance, where falling is losing. To an external viewer, and that’s what falsely gives a certain character to our art, it seems that Tori is the winner when Uke falls on the tatamis. It is psychologically difficult to admit that this is not at all so. Society gives us but rarely any examples of behavior other than this Manichean dualism « Either you win or you lose ». And it is logical, at first sight, not to understand and to see only that. In order to understand the matter differently, one must practice, and practice with another conception in mind, which can only be given by the teacher. Itsuo Tsuda senseï provides an example of this pedagogy in his book The Path of Less :

« In Aïkido, when there is a flow of Ki from A, who is performing the technique, towards object B, opponent C, who is grasping A by the wrist, is thrown in the same direction. C is pulled in and joins the main current that goes from A to B.

I have often used this psychological mise-en-scene, for example, with the phrase « I’m already there ». When the opponent grabs your wrists and blocks your movement, as in the exercise of sitting Kokyu, one is inclined to think that this is a pushing exercise. If you push the opponent, it immediately produces resistance in that person. Push against push, they struggle. It becomes a sort of sitting sumo.

In the phrase « I’m already there », there is no struggle. One simply moves, pivots on one knee to make an about turn, the opponent is driven by the flow of Ki and flipped into his side. It takes very little for this exercise to become a struggle. As soon as the idea of winner and loser gets mixed up in it, exaggerated efforts are made to obtain a result, all to the detriment of overall harmony. One pushes, the other resists, bending excessively low and squeezing the wrists to prevent being pushed. Such a practice will not benefit either one. The idea is too mechanical. […] The idea of throwing provokes resistance. […] Nonetheless, to forget the opponent while knowing he’s there is not easy. The more we try to forget, the more we think about it. It’s the joy in the flow of Ki that makes me forget everything. »

Imbalance serving the purpose of balance

Balance is definitely not rigidity, that’s why falling as the consequence of a technique may perfectly enable us to rebalance ourselves. It is necessary to learn how to fall correctly, not only in order to enable Tori to be free of any fear for his partner, because Tori knows him and anticipates that his capacities will enable him to come out of this situation as well as a cat does in difficult conditions. But also and simply because thanks to the fall, we get rid of fears our own parents or grandparents have sometimes instilled in us with their ‘precautionism’ of the kind « Be careful, you’ll fall down. » invariably followed by « You’ll hurt yourself. ». This Pavlovian impregnation has often led us to rigidity and in any case to a certain apprehension as regards falling, dropping down.
The French word « chuter » (to fall) has obviously a negative connotation, while in Japanese the most commonly accepted translation of the term Ukemi is « to receive with the body », and we understand here that there is a world of difference. Once more the language shows us that the concepts, the reactions, differ profoundly, and it underlines the importance of the message we have to convey to people beginning Aïkido. Without being especially a linguist, nor even a translator of Japanese, the understanding of our art also involves the study of Eastern civilisations, their philosophies, their artistic tastes, their codes. In my opinion, extracting Aïkido from its context is not possible, despite its value of universality, we have to go and look in the direction of its roots, and therefore in that of the ancient texts. One of the basis of Aïkido can be found in ancient China, more precisely in Taoism. In an interview with G. Erard, Kono senseï reveals one of the secrets of Aïkido that seems to me essential although quite forgotten today : he had asked Morihei Ueshiba :  “O senseï, how come we don’t do what you do ?” O senseï had answered smiling : ’’I understand Yin and Yang. You don’t !’’.

To project in order to harmonize

Tori, and this is something peculiar to our art, can guide the partner’s fall so that the latter may benefit from the action. Itsuo Tsuda tells us about what he used to feel when he was projected by O Senseï : « What I can say from my own experience, is that with Mr Ueshiba, my pleasure was so great that I always wanted to ask for more. I never felt any effort on his part. It was so natural that not only did I feel no constraint, but I fell without knowing it. I have experienced the surge of great waves on the beach that topple a,d sweep one away. There is, of course, pleasure, but with Mr Ueshiba it was something else. There was serenity, greatness, Love ». There is a will, conscious or not, to harmonize the partner’s body. In this case it may be called projection. It is thus relevant to say that Aïkido is not anymore in martiality but rather in the harmonization of mankind. In order to realize this we need to leave behind us any idea of superiority, of power over another, or even any vindictive attitude, and to have the desire to give the partner a hand in order to allow him self-realization, without him needing to thank anybody. The fusion of sensibility with the partner is indispensable to achieve this, it is this same fusion which guides us, enables us to know our partner’s level and to release at the right moment if he’s a beginner, or to support his body if the moment is adequate for going beyond, to allow him to fall further, faster, or higher. In any case pleasure is present.

The involuntary

We can’t calculate the direction of the fall, its speed, its power, nor even its angle of landing. Everything happens at the level of the involuntary or the unconscious if we prefer, but which unconscious are we referring to ? It is an unconscious devoid of what cluttered it up, of what prevented it from being free, that’s why O Senseï would so often recall that Aïkido is a Misogi, practicing Aïkido is to realize this cleaning of body and spirit. When we practice this way, there is no accident in the dojo, this is the path Itsuo Tsuda senseï had adopted and the indications he was giving were leading us in this direction. This makes his School a particular School. Other paths are not only possible, but certainly match even more, or better, the expectations of many practitioners. I read many articles in magazines or blogs which take pride of violence or the ability to solve conflicts through violence and toughening up. To me, it doesn’t seem to be the way indicated by O Senseï Morihei Ueshiba, nor by the Masters I was fortunate to meet, and particularly Tsuda senseï, Noro senseï, Tamura senseï, Nocquet senseï, or others through their interviews, such as Kono senseï. The Ukemi enables us to understand better physically the principles which rule our art, which guide us beyond our small self, our small mind, to glimpse something greater than us, to be one with nature which we are part of.

Want to receive future articles? Subscribe to the newsletter :

Article by Régis Soavi published in Dragon Magazine (speciale Aikido n° 22) October 2018.

Notes :

* Itsuo Tsuda The Path of less, édition Yume Edition p.180

** Guillaume Erard, Entretien avec Henry Kono : Yin et Yang, moteur de l’Aikido du fondateur, 22 avril 2008,

*** Itsuo Tsuda La Voie du dépouillement, Ed. Le Courrier du Livre p. 172


Seitai and daily life #4

Subtitles available in French, English, Italian and Spanish. To activate the subtitles, click on this icon. Then click on the icon to select the subtitle language.


Vous souhaitez recevoir les prochains articles ? Abonnez vous à la newsletter :

Coming out of the shadows

By Manon Soavi

I discovered late in life that I was a girl. Of course I knew it, but it did not matter, it had no impact on my life, the way I would get in touch with other people and practice Aikido. I was not aware, unlike most of my fellow women citizens, that I was a “girl”, before being an “individual”. Part of the explanation for why I grew up outside of these ubiquitous schemes is that I’ve never been to school. My parents had chosen a different path, it was a revolutionary decision, it was disobedience to “compulsory” schooling as Catherine Baker recounts in her book [1]… Of course this conditioning of women does not only take place within the school environment, but also within families, social circles, the media and culture in general. In families , it’s always the little girls who are told that they are “so pretty, so cute”. Whether with a judo Keikogi or a pink tutu, they are being dressed like dollies. This is so present, as plain as the nose on your face, that we no longer consider it a problem. What’s wrong with complimenting a little girl, a baby, on their clothes, their curls or smile? Well, precisely because the current importance of beauty and appearance is learnt during early childhood, and because this will brand them for life. It’s with all those remarks and comments, these pink toys and these smiles that future women are being taught their traditional role: to please, and to enjoy pleasing. As writer Mona Chollet puts it: “ the consequences of this alienation [for women] are far from being limited to a loss of time, money and energy. The fear of not pleasing, not meeting expectations, the subjugation to others’ judgments, the conviction of not being good enough to deserve love and attention from others both reflect and amplify a psychic insecurity and a self-depreciation whose effects reach every area of women’s life.” [2].

In my case, I was preserved from this situation in my early childhood, I only discovered it during adolescence, I got shocked when I became aware that I was regarded and talked to, first and foremost as “a girl”! Of course I could not bear it and rebelled, as many other women did, against this treatment. But unfortunately no one ever fully escapes a culture, a society, I am part of it and I was affected by it too. The situation of Western women is obviously not to be compared with that of other countries where women have no right. Yet can that be a reason why we should not get things to progress? Because, even though women suffer from this situation, which they themselves perpetuate by raising over and over their daughters and sons to reproduce the same schemes, it is actually humankind as a whole which loses out from this imbalance. If men can be perceived as “oppressors”, I think women have the keys to get our society out of this impasse. Kobayashi Sensei’s saying “Freedom is expressed by moving where it is possible” (3) supports my thought that it is for women to exert their freedom. It is our responsibility not to reproduce over and over this story. And this is where, precisely where, that for me, this issue connects with Aïkido.

Aikido, a third path

Aikido can be an answer to this “fight or submit” impasse which women have to face. Because Aikido is a martial art which has nothing to do with fighting. May one dare use the word “non martial art”? Many Masters and great experts repeat it (again recently Steve Magson, student of Chiba Kazuo Sensei, in Aikido journal): it is ridiculous to raise the question of Aikido’s “efficiency” in a “real fight situation”. It is meaningless (which of course does not mean that one should do anything). But while a high level martial expert can write this without the value of his Aikido practice being questioned, a woman saying the same thing would immediately be suspected of not being up to it, not being capable enough. This issue however precisely concerns women, because we face very acutely the question of fighting as a dualistic situation. Even if it is not about fistfighting but rather cultural and social fighting. In addition, we are as soon as we are born potential victims of violence. Maybe we will escape it, but it will then be an exception. All women live knowing they will be a victim one day or another. And when we wish to express ourselves, get a job, again we are obliged to demonstrate our value, our right to stand where we are, all along our life. And, precisely, Aikido falls completely outside this framework! There will be no winner, nor loser. Aikido is like another dimension where our values no longer hold. If practiced in a certain way, it can be a tool to practice, human being to human being, without any distinction. Régis Soavi Sensei writes about Aikido that it is “a school for life, a school that arouses the life of those who practice it. Far from being just another string to our bow, it questions the fallacies and subterfuges which our society offers” (4). I’m also inclined to think that Cognard Sensei follows the same line when writing about an Aiki ritual that could change us so much as to overcome history that has been legitimating violence for centuries (3). It is a pity that women do not take hold of this tool, this art, in order to escape submission, without imitating men in position of power, but rather by entering a third path. Where no one expects them.

Following this third path has always been my direction since my childhood, by walking, of course, outside of the school system, but also by practicing Aikido since I was 6. I am not saying that I always manage to find the right way, but I’m working on it. Daily reviving the practice of going down another path, of getting out of situations differently. I consequently practice with my own father being my Master. At the same time, it’s a chance and it’s not easy. I have always seen him ahead of me, on this path. He has been walking for a long time, before I was born, and I sometimes had the impression he was an unreachable horizon in Aikido. Benevolently, but with extraordinary firmness, he guided me, held my hand, without overlooking anything but letting time work. Now I walk by his side, I also teach Aikido myself… and I can better see how fortunate I am. I wish I could prompt other women (without excluding men of course) to practice this art with the state of mind I have experienced, the one of the Itsuo Tsuda School. And to practice it long enough, because it takes time, one cannot change one’s culture in a few years. One can acquire a few techniques, some self-confidence maybe. But really deciding for a different life course will require more time. The first step is daily practice, at least regular practice, which brings us back to ourselves. Writing on a seemingly completely different topic (calligraphy), sinologist J.-F. Billeter gives us a remarkably vivid account which strikingly resonates with Aikido practice:

“In the current world, practice also brings us back to ourselves by reintroducing us to the pleasure of gratuitous gesture. Dictated by machines, our daily activity more and more shrinks to moves that are programmed, domesticated, produced with indifference, without any imagination nor sensitivity taking part. Practice remedies this gesture atrophy by arousing our stiffened abilities. It restores the pleasure of playing, it brings back to life capacities which, even though not immediately “useful”, are nonetheless essential. As the most evolved among animals, human beings need more playing than any other species to maintain their balance. Practice also affects our perception of time. In our daily life, we keep going back in time and projecting ourselves into the future, leaping from one to the other without being able to stop at the present time. Because of this, we are haunted by the feeling that time is slipping away. By lining up with ourselves, practice on the contrary suspends the flight of time. When we handle the paintbrush, the present time seems to detach from the string that tied it to the past and the future. It absorbs in itself all duration. It amplifies itself and transforms into a vast space of tranquility. It is no longer governed by the flow of time, but it resonates with moments of the same nature which we experienced yesterday, the day before yesterday and the days before. These moments get threaded to each other, they create another continuity, a kind of majestic avenue that travels across the disorganized time of our daily activities. Our life tends to reorganize around this new axis and the inconsistency of our external activities stops impeding us. Daily practice performs the function of a ritual.” (5)Manon Soavi Jo stage été femmes aikido

Restoring sensation

But how did we get there? According to Tsuda Sensei, today’s world tends to favor cerebral hypertrophy and voluntarism at the expense of the living. He said about it: “I don’t refuse to understand the essential character of Western civilisation: it is a challenge of the human brain to the order of the world, an effort of the will to extend the boundaries of the possible. Whether it is about industrial development, medicine or Olympic games, this character predominates. It is an aggression against nature. Superb human acts, yet without knowing it, against nature. Life suffers, despite our increased knowledge and possession.”

There also precisely lies the matter. We disconnect from our sensations, from the sensation of living inside us. It is also because women no longer feel their needs, their profound natures, that they let themselves carried away into situations that do not suit them. Too busy with acquiring and fighting, their instinct which should safeguards their life no longer reacts. It got atrophied. Even with their babies today’s women struggle to feel, to know what to do and turn to science and books to dictate them how to behave. Listening to their baby and listening to their intuition is outdated, it’s archaic! And after centuries when being a mother was the only horizon for respectable women, we have nowadays achieved the feat of strength of reversing the imperative. Now, being “only” a stay-at-home mother is shabby! What a breakthrough!

Here also Aikido brings us back to our sensations. One cannot mentally compute a move. Upon an oncoming attack one has to move, it’s too late to think. One has to sense one’s partner in order to move in a right, appropriate way. We (men or women) are often like the famous overfull cup in the Zen philosophy, which spills out when more tea is added. We are too agitated and too full of ourselves to be able to perceive the other. Let’s not even talk about understanding them! This is also the meaning of the Non-Doing Tsuda Sensei was talking about. We need to be empty, we need to start by listening. Women first should start by listening to themselves. Listening to their own body in Aikido everyday is rewriting their own experience. Relearning to trust themselves, restore the confidence in what their body says. Hino Sensei makes the same observation, he writes about humans who have become “insensitive and incapable” (6). He deplores the blatant lack of perception of what happens in the other person. Whether we grab his/her wrist or discuss with him/her, sensation is broken off. Intuition no longer works. We content ourselves with “Hi, how are you? – Fine, how are you?”, how superficial! If one is sensitive, it just takes a simple look to feel the other, to know whether they are happy or sad, whether they are half-asleep or on top form. But because of repeated stereotyped relationships we lose sight of authentic human relationships. Here again some masters have left us guideposts to reconnect with ourselves.

Tsuda Sensei used to talk about intuition and authenticity of the relation we have with our child. Because, if when searching for intense sensations and experience some martial arts practitioners fantasize about past masters’ uchideshis, about experiences one can live under an icy waterfall, about the total availability for the Master, etc., there is one extreme experience which a woman can go through, a life experience rather similar to what Noro Senseï recounts, he who once was Ueshiba Moriheï’s Otomo. I can attest to it, it really feels like this: “If s/he sleeps, you have to watch over her/his sleep. If s/he wakes up at night, you have to be ready to satisfy her/his needs. If s/he gets bored, you have to entertain her/him. If s/he gets ill, you have to take care of her/him. You have to prepare her/his bath, her/his meals, and clean everything up as soon as s/he changes activity. […] It is obviously about adapting and even about becoming capable of anticipating the very precise desires in order to remain, day and night, awake or not, in total harmony.” (7).

In total harmony with whom? With one’s newborn of course for a mother or a father! But why should one choose such a treatment? While there are so many solutions to relieve us from the burden of having a child. It is like slavery! Yet, for those who live this experience of a unique, wordless communication with a human being, it is an inestimable teaching. It is most likely when this state of fusion with the other person was reached that the genuine transmission from the Master, the transmission of the spirit of an art, could be achieved. Martial arts practitioners are looking for this life intensity! Unfortunately, when a woman experiences it with her child, this is relegated to a mere domestic task, which could be done by any underpaid nurse. Tsuda Sensei used to talk about childhood as the only area where one could still live such an impossible experience. He was even saying that “knowing how to take care of a baby was the acme of martial arts”! Here again, if women became aware of this, would they realize the potential of hidden power they have? Would we then stop aiming at equaling men as the only path towards self-realisation?Manon Soavi Iai - femmes aikido

Living in this world, while still being in another

If the purpose of our practice is human evolution, I believe the Dojo to be its casket. A Dojo can be a microcosm where we let go our social conventions, even temporarily. Through his books and calligraphies, Tsuda Sensei prompts us to question the established order, to look further beyond the social organisation. If we practice in a certain direction, we can forget with whom we practice. If, and only if, we leave behind our social reflexes. It is obviously very difficult at the beginning not to bring in with us our baggage. It is as difficult for men as for women to forget who they have become in this world so to focus on what they are inside. Before any distinction, of sex, color, age, fortune, culture, etc. Looking into ourselves for this shared humanity requires from us a voluntary act of breaking away from codes. The Dojo, its atmosphere of serenity and concentration (which cannot be found in a sports hall), the feeling of an intangible dojo, all this brings us into a certain state. The sequence of a session, with its first part of individual movements which brings breathing back to the center, followed by the practice with a partner, the harmonization of breaths, the attention to sensation. A combination that allows the Dojo to be a little bit “outside” the world, which prompts us to let go so to get into a different state during practice. Ivan Illich mentions such a state of consciousness when saying: “I don’t wan’t anything between you and me. [I am] afraid of the things that could prevent me from being in contact with you” (8). In a dojo, we sweep these things away, conventions, fears, which stand between one another. It is not about abandoning our culture, no, it’s simply about abandoning the manifestations of the social being in order to find each other so to walk along together.

For this to happen, we need women to wake up and come out of the shadows.

Article by  Manon Soavi published in Dragon Magazine (speciale Aikido n° 22) october 2018.

Vous souhaitez recevoir les prochains articles ? Abonnez vous à la newsletter :

Notes :
1) C.Baker Les cahiers au feu Éd.Barrault, 1988
2) M.Chollet Beauté fatale, Les nouveaux visages d’une aliénation féminine Éd. La Découverte, p.8
3) A.Cognard Rituel et Symbole Dragon Magazine Spécial Aïkido n°19, janv. 2018, p. 22
4) R.Soavi Mémoire d’un Aïkidoka Dragon Magazine Spécial Aïkido n°19, janv. 2018, p. 60
5) J.F.Billeter Essai sur l’art chinois de l’écriture et ses fondements Éd.Allia, 2010, p. 164
6) H.Akira Don’t think, listen to the body! 2017, p. 226
7) P.Fissier Chroniques de Noro Masamichi Dragon Magazine Spécial Aïkido n°12 p.77
8) I.Illich Mythologie occidentale et critique du « capitalisme des biens non tangibles » Entretien avec Jean-Marie Domenach dans la série « Un certain regard » – 19/03/1972.

Yuki #3

Subtitles available in French, English, Italian and Spanish. To activate the subtitles, click on this icon. Then click on the icon to select the subtitle language.

Vous souhaitez recevoir les prochains articles ? Abonnez vous à la newsletter :

Is Aikido a martial art?

by Régis Soavi

This seems to be a recurring question in the dojos and one which divides practitioners, teachers, as well as commentators in more or less all schools. Since no definitive answer can be given, one turns to the story of martial arts, to social requirements, to the history of the origin of human beings, to the cognitive sciences, etc. entrusting them to provide an answer which, even if it does not solve the problem, will at least have the merit of justifying what is claimed.

Aikijutsu has become a dō

From the moment it has dropped the suffix jutsu to become a dō, Aikijutsu has acknowledged itself as an art of peace, a way of harmony on the same basis as Shodō (the way of calligraphy) or also Kadō (the way of flowers). By adopting the word that means the path, the way, has it become for this an easier path? Or in the contrary does it compel us to ask ourselves questions, to look again at our own course, to make an effort of introspection? Does an art of peace necessarily have a compliant side, is it a weak art, an art of acceptance, in which cheaters may gain a reputation at little expense?
It is certainly an art that has managed to adapt to the new realities of our time. But do we have to foster the illusion of an easy self-defence, within everyone’s reach, suiting any budget, with no need to get involved in the least bit? Can you really believe or make people believe that with one or two hours of practice a week, furthermore excluding holidays (clubs are often closed), one can become a great warrior or acquire wisdom and be able to solve any problem thanks to one’s calm, peace of mind or charisma?
Does the solution then lie in strength, muscular work and the violent arts? If a direction exists at all, it can be found in my opinion, and despite what I have just said, in Aikido.

A School without grades

Itsuo Tsuda never gave grades to any of his students and, when somebody had a question about that, he used to answer: “There is no such thing as a black belt in mental emptiness”. One might say that these words had ended all discussion. Having served as an interpreter between O Sensei Ueshiba Morihei and André Nocquet when the latter had come to Japan as a learner, Itsuo Tsuda later acted as an intermediary when French or American foreigners showed up at the Hombu Dojo to start learning Aikido. This allowed him, since he translated the students’ questions and the master’s answers, to have access to what was underlying the practice, to what made it something universal, to what made it an art beyond pure martiality. He talked to us about O Sensei’s posture, about his amazing spontaneity, about his deep gaze which seemed to pierce him to the very depths of his being. Itsuo Tsuda never tried to imitate his master whom considered inimitable. He was immediately interested in what inspired this incredible man capable of the greatest gentleness as well as of the greatest power. That is why, when he arrived in France, he tried to pass on to us what for him was the essential, the secret of Aikido, the concrete perception of ki. What he had discovered, and later summarized in the initial sentence of his first book: “Since the very day when I had the revelation of ‘ki’, of breath (I was over forty years old at the time), the desire to express the inexpressible, to communicate what cannot be communicated had kept growing in me.”*
For ten years he travelled Europe to make us Westerners, who very often had a Cartesian, dualistic frame of mind, discover that there is another dimension in life. That this dimension is not esoteric but exoteric as he liked to say.

A School with its own specificity

There is obviously a variety of motivatons leading people to start this practice. If I think of the people who practice in our School (the Itsuo Tsuda School), apart from a few of them, there are not many who came for the martial aspect. On the other hand, many of them didn’t see anything martial about it at first sight, even though at each session I show how the techniques could be effective if performed with precision, and dangerous if used in a violent way. The martial aspect arises from the posture, the breathing, the ability to concentrate, the truthfulness of the act of attacking. Dealing with a learner, it is essential to respect the partner’s level, and to practice known forms.
But the discovery one can make by practicing known forms goes far beyond that. It is about making something else grow, revealing what lies deep within individuals, freeing oneself from the underpinning influence exerted by the past and sometimes even by the future, on our gestures, on the whole of our movements, physical as well as mental. Indeed in our dojo everybody realizes that.
The session starts at 6:45am. The fact of coming to practice so early in the morning (O Sensei and Tsuda Sensei always started their own sessions at 6.30) has neither to do with an ascesis nor with a discipline. Some practicioners arrive around 6 every morning, to share some coffee or tea, and to enjoy this moment before the session (a pre-session so to speak), sometimes so rich thanks to the exchanges that we can have between us. It’s a moment of pleasure, of conversation about the practice, as well as about everyday life sometimes, and we share it with the others in an extremely concrete way and not in the virtual way that society tends to suggest us.
Of course all this may appear regressive or useless, but it avoids the aspect of easy entertainment and does not encourage clientelism, which doesn’t mean that it doesn’t exist, but in that way there is less of it and with time it evolves.This is because people change, they are transformed, or more precisely they find themselves again, they retrieve unused capacities that they sometimes thought they had lost or often, more simply, had forgotten.

Yin the feminine: understanding

There are so many women in our School that equality is not respected, men are outnumbered, by a narrow margin of course, but that has always been the case. I wouldn’t want to speak on behalf of women but what can one do? As far as I know they do not form a separate world, unknown to men.
As a matter of fact, for many men, maybe it is so!…Nevertheless I think all a man has do is to take into account his yin side, without being afraid of it, to find and understand what brings men and women closer and what separates them. Is it a matter of personal affinity, is it a research due to my experience during the events of May ’68 and to this blossoming of feminism which revealed itself once again in those days, or maybe more simply is it the fact that I have three daughters, who, by the way, practice Aikido all three of them: the result, whatever the reasons, is that I have always encouraged women to take their legitimate place in the dojos of our School. They take the same responsibilities as men and there is of course no disparity in level, neither in studying nor in teaching. It is really a pity to have to clarify things like that, but unfortunately they cannot be taken for granted in this world.
Despite everything, women scarcely take the floor, or I should even say take up the pen in martial arts magazines. It would be interesting to read articles written by women, or to devote space in “Dragon magazine special Aikido” to the female perspective on martial arts and on our art in particular. Do they have nothing to say or does the male world take up all the space? Or else maybe these sectarian disputes on the efficiency of Aikido bore them, for women seek and often find, so it seems to me, another dimension, or in any case something else, thanks to this art? Itsuo Tsuda Sensei gives us an idea of this “something else”, which is perhaps closer to O Sensei’s search, in this passage of his book The Path of less: “Do people see Mr Ueshiba as a man completely made of steel? I had quite the opposite impression. He was a serene man, capable of extraordinary concentration, but very permeable in other ways, inclined to outbursts of ringing laughter, with an inimitable sense of humour. I had the opportunity of touching his biceps. I was amazed. The tenderness of a newborn. The opposite of hardness in every way one could imagine.
This may seem odd, but his ideal Aikido was that of girls. Due to the nature of their physique, girls are unable to contract their shoulders as hard as boys can. Therefore their Aikido is more flowing and natural.”**

Yang the masculine: fighting

art martial

We are educated to competition from early childhood ; under the pretext of emulation, school tends to go in the same direction, all this to prepare us for the world of work. They teach us that the world is tough, that we absolutely need to gain our place in the sun, to learn to defend ourselves against other people, but are we so sure about that? Wouldn’t our desire in fact tend to guide us in a different direction? And what do we do to achieve this goal? Could Aikido be one of the instruments for this revolution in social values, habits, should it and above all should we do the necessary effort so that the roots of this evil corroding our modern societies may regenerate and become healthy again? In the past there have been examples of societies in which competition didn’t exist, or hardly existed in the way it does today, societies in which sexism was absent too, even though you can’t present them as ideal societies. Reading the writings on matriarchy in the Trobriand islands by the great anthropologist Bronislaw Malinowsky, discovering his analysis, may help find new leads, and perhaps even remedies to these problems of civilization which have so often been denounced.

Tao, the union: a path for the fulfillment of the human being

The path, in essence, not that I am an idealist, justifies itself and takes all its value by the fact that it normalizes the terrain of individuals. For those who follow it, it adjusts their tensions, restores balance, and it is appeasing for it allows a different relationship to life. Isn’t that what so many “civilized” people are desperately seeking and what in the end is to be found deep inside the human being?
The path is not a religion, furthermore it is what separates it from religion that makes it a space of freedom, within the dominant ideologies. According to me the way of thinking that seems closest to this is agnosticism, a philosophical current which is little known, or rather known in a superficial way, but which allows to integrate all the different schools. In Aikido there is quite a number of rituals that are kept up even though their real origin (the source O Sensei drew from) is not understood or there are sometimes other rituals that other masters found through ancient practices as Tamura Sensei himself did. Those rituals have often been associated to religion whereas the fact could be checked that it is the religions which have taken over all these ancient rituals to use them as instruments serving their own power, and way too often they are used for the domination and the enslavement of people.

A means: the respiratory practice

The first part of the session in O Sensei Ueshiba Morihei’s Aikido, far from being a warming up, consisted of movements the depth of which it is primordial to retrieve. It is neither to get an intellectual satisfaction, nor out of some fundamentalist concern and even less to gain “higher powers” that we continue them, but in order to return to the path that O Sensei had taken. Some exercises, like Funakogi undo (the so-called rower’s movement) or Tama-no-hirebori (vibration of the soul), have a very great value, and if they are practiced with the necessary attention, they can allow us to feel beyond the physical body, beyond our sensation, limited as it is, to discover something greater, much greater than ourselves. It is an unlimited nature which we take part in, in which we are immersed, which is fundamentally and inextricably linked to us, and yet which we find it so hard to reach or even sometimes to feel. This notion that I made mine is not the result of a mystical relationship with the universe, but rather of a mental and physical opening which many modern physicists have reached through a theoretical approach and are trying to verify. It is something that you can neither learn by watching Youtube videos, nor by consulting books of ancient wisdom, despite their undeniable importance. It is something you discover in a purely corporal way, in an absolutely and fully physical way, even though this dimension is expanded to an unusual extent. Little by little all the practitioners who agree to look in this direction find it. It is not related to a physical condition, nor to age and obviously not to sex or nationality.


Almost all psychologists consider that the essential part of what will guide us in our adult life takes place during our childhood and more precisely in our early childhood. The good as well as the bad experiences. Therefore particular care should be taken in education to preserve the innate nature of the child as much as possible. In no way does this mean letting the child do whatever he wants, making him a king or becoming his slave; the world is there and surrounds him, so he needs reference points. But very quickly, often shortly after birth, sometimes after a few months, the baby is put in the care of persons outside the family. What happened to his parents? He no longer recognizes his mother’s voice, her smell, her movement. It is the first trauma and we are told : “He will get over it”. Sure, unfortunately it is not the last trauma, far from it. Then comes the day care center, followed by kindergarten, primary school, junior high, and finally the baccalaureate before perhaps university for at least three, four, five, six years or even more.
But what can you do ? “That’s life.” I am told. Each of these places in which the child will be spending his time in the name of education and learning is a mental prison. From basic knowledge to mass culture, when will he be respected as an individual full of the imagination that characterizes childhood? He will be taught to obey, he will learn to cheat. He will be taught to be with the others, he will learn competition. He will receive grades, this will be called emulation, and this psychological disaster will be experienced by top as well as by bottom of the class students.
In the name of what totalitarian ideology are all children and young people given an education that breeds fear of repression, submission, decommitment and disillusionment? Today’s society in wealthy countries does not propose anything really new: work and free time are only synonyms of the roman ideal of bread and circus games, the slavery of the ancient times is only turned into our modern wage employment. A somewhat improved state of slavery ? Perhaps… with spectacular brain washing, guaranteed without invoice, thanks to the advertising for products that is pushed on us, with its corollary: the hyper-consumption of goods both useless and detrimental.
The practice of Aikido for children and teenagers is the opportunity to go off the grids proposed by the world around them. It is thanks to the concentration required by the technique, a calm and quiet breathing, the non-competitive aspect, the respect for differences, that they can keep or, if necessary, retrieve their inner strength. A peaceful strength, not aggressive, but full and rich of the imagination and the desire to make the world better.

A practical philosophy, or rather, a philosophical practice

The particular character of the Itsuo Tsuda School derives from the fact that we are more interested in individuality than in the dissemination of an art or a series of techniques. It is neither about creating an ideal person, nor about guiding anyone towards something, towards a lifestyle, with a certain amount of gentleness, a certain amount of kindness or wisdom, of balancing ability or exaltation, etc. It is about awakening the human being and allowing him to live fully in the acceptance of what he is in the world surrounding him, without destroying him. This spirit of openness can do nothing other than waking up the strength pre-existing in each of us. This philosophy leads us to independence, to autonomy, but not to isolation, on the contrary: through the discovery of the Other, it brings us to the understanding of what this person is, also perhaps beyond what the person has become. This whole process of learning, or rather this reappropriation of oneself, takes time, continuity, sincerity, in order to realize more clearly the direction in which one wishes to go.

What lies beyond, what lies behind

What I am interested in today is what lies behind or more precisely what lies deep inside Aikido. When you take a train you have an objective, a destination, with Aikido it is a little bit as if the train changed objective as you moved further, as if the direction became at the same time different, and more precise. As for the objective, it pulls away despite the fact that you think you have come closer. And this is where you have to recognize that the object of our journey is the journey itself, the landscapes we discover, which become more refined and reveal themselves to us.

Want to receive future articles? Subscribe to the newsletter :

* Itsuo Tsuda, The Non-doing, Yume Editions, 2013, p.9
** Itsuo Tsuda, The Path of less, Yume Editions, 2014, p.157

Evento calligrafie a Roma

Il 12 e il 13 ottobre 2018, il dojo Bodai di Roma recentemente rinnovato, funge da cornice per l’evento “Un libro – un’esposizione” con una buona affluenza di pubblico, interesse e apprezzamenti favorevoli.
La sera del 12 ottobre, di fronte a un nutrito gruppo di visitatori, nell’atmosfera avvolgente dell’esposizione di 87 calligrafie in riproduzione fotografica, ha avuto luogo la presentazione del libro “Itsuo Tsuda, Calligrafie di Primavera” (ed. Yume 2017). Per l’occasione é stata esposta anche la calligrafia originale  » La Tigre « .

[metaslider id= »6375 »]

Durante la giornata di sabato abbiamo ricevuto diverse visite: fra gli amici, conoscitori ed esperti di cultura giapponese, ci è gradito segnalare la visita di Paolo Bottoni, aikidoka, giornalista e blogger, che ha scritto un articolo sul suo blog a proposito delle calligrafie del Maestro Tsuda.
L’evento ha registrato complessivamente il passaggio al Dojo Bodai di un’ottantina di persone.
Per tutti, compresi noi organizzatori, è stata l’occasione di entrare in contatto in modo diretto e contemporaneamente con la quasi totalità delle calligrafie del Maestro Tsuda : un momento indimenticabile e ricco di sensazioni !
Per chi non ha avuto la possibilità di scoprire questo libro e tutta l’opera del Maestro Tsuda, potete trovarli a Roma al dojo Bodai, e anche sul sito di Yume Editions

Au cœur du déplacement, l’involontaire

Par Régis Soavi 

« Si je dois donner un but à mon Aïkido, ce sera d’apprendre à nous asseoir,  à nous lever, à avancer et à reculer. » I.Tsuda

Déplacements : la coordination, la posture

Pour se déplacer correctement il est nécessaire d’être stable, et on ne résout pas des problèmes de stabilité par l’apprentissage. La stabilité doit naître de l’équilibre, qui lui-même naît du système involontaire. L’être humain a cette particularité de se tenir debout avec comme seuls points d’appui cette toute petite surface que sont ses deux pieds. Et s’il s’agissait seulement de se tenir immobile, encore passe, mais nous nous déplaçons, et qui plus est, nous sommes capables en même temps de parler, de réfléchir, de bouger les bras dans tous les sens ainsi que la tête ou les doigts, tout cela en étant parfaitement stables. La coordination musculaire involontaire s’occupe de tout. Si nous perdons l’équilibre sans pouvoir nous rattraper à quoi que ce soit, notre corps cherche par tous les moyens à récupérer l’équilibre perdu, et souvent il y parvient grâce au mouvement de la répartition du poids d’une jambe sur l’autre, en trouvant des points d’appui extrêmement précis, que nous aurions eu du mal à trouver à l’aide de notre seul système volontaire. Tsuda Itsuo raconte une anecdote personnelle sur son apprentissage de l’Aïkido qui me semble édifiante, dans son livre La Science du particulier.*Lire la suite

Health condition according to Seitai #2

Sequel of interviews where Régis Soavi, who has been teaching and introducing people to Katsugen Undo for forty years now, gets back to basics about Seitai and Katsugen Undo. This second video tackles the notion of health according to Seitai.

Subtitles available in French, English, Italian and Spanish. To activate the subtitles, click on this icon. Then click on the icon to select the subtitle language.

Some additional information:

Seitai was developed by Haruchika Noguchi (1911-1976) in Japan. Katsugen Undo (or Regenerating Movement) is an exercise of the extrapyramidal motor system that is part of Seitai. Itsuo Tsuda (1914-1984), who introduced Katsugen Undo in Europe in the 70s, would write about it: “The human body is endowed with a natural ability to readjust its condition […]. This ability […] is the responsibility of the extrapyramidal motor system”*.

Régis Soavi starts practising martials arts with Judo when he is twelve. He then studies Aikido, especially alongside Masters Tamura, Nocquet and Noro. He meets Tsuda Itsuo Sensei in 1973 and will follow him until his death in 1984. With the permission of the latter, Régis Soavi becomes a professional teacher and disseminates his Aïkido and Katsugen Undo throughout Europe.

*Itsuo Tsuda, One, Yume Editions (trans. Itsuo Tsuda School, 2016), p. 46

Stage l’Art des Deux Sabres

Tatsushi Saï sera de retour à Paris les 5 et 6 janvier 2019

Depuis 2005 nous travaillons avec Tatsushi Saï le Bushuden Kiraku Ryu et le Niten ichi ryu.  Cette année il a accepté de venir du Japon pour enseigner l’art des deux sabres à Paris pour un stage. Lors de ce week-end exceptionnel nous travaillerons le Sakon Den Niten Ichi Ryu, l’art des deux sabres du célèbre escrimeur Miyamoto Musashi. Ne manquez pas cette occasion unique de pratiquer avec ce maître et découvrir cet art.

Tatsushi Saï est Menkyo Kaiden de Bushuden Kiraku Ryu, il enseigne à Tokyo cette école traditionnelle qui comporte du Tai-jutsu et de nombreuses armes (Bo, Naginata, Chigiriki, Kusarigama, Kusarifundo, Tessen, Iaï, etc). Il enseigne également plusieurs branches de Niten ichi ryu.

Infos pratiques

Lieu :

Dojo Tenshin, 120 rue des Grands-Champs, 75020 Paris. Métro ligne 9, station Maraîchers.

Dates et Horaires :

5 et 6 janvier 2019

Samedi 10h-12h et 14h-16h | Dimanche 10h-12h et 14h-16h

Tarifs :

100€ pour le stage complet | 80€ pour les membres de l’association École Itsuo Tsuda.

Inscription à l’avance indispensable. Contacter le Dojo Tenshin

Votre nom

Votre email

Votre message

Votre numéro de téléphone (facultatif)

J'accepte l'utilisation faite de ces données dans le cadre dela politique de confidentialité

Calligrafie di Primavera a Roma

L’esposizione “Calligrafie di Primavera” approda a Roma in ottobre !
In programma presso il Dojo Bodai di Roma, nelle giornate di venerdì 12 e sabato 13 ottobre 2018, l’evento Un libro – Un’esposizione.
Sulla scia delle precedenti anteprime di Parigi e Milano, l’evento ripropone, per il pubblico romano, la presentazione del libro “Calligrafie di Primavera” (ed. Yume 2018) e la ricca mostra fotografica dedicata alle calligrafie di Itsuo Tsuda, che al libro hanno dato origine.

Lire la suite

Seitai and Katsugen Undo #1

Many thing are being said and circulated on the internet about Seitai and Katsugen Undo (Regenerating Movement). In this round of interviews, Régis Soavi, who has been teaching and introducing people to Katsugen Undo for forty years now, gets back to basics to address the question “What are Seitai and Katsugen Undo?”.

Subtitles available in French, English, Italian and Spanish. To activate the subtitles, click on this icon. Then click on the icon to select the subtitle language.

Some additional information:

Seitai was developed by Haruchika Noguchi (1911-1976) in Japan. Katsugen Undo (or Regenerating Movement) is an exercise of the extrapyramidal motor system that is part of Seitai. Itsuo Tsuda (1914-1984), who introduced Katsugen Undo in Europe in the 70s, would write about it: “The human body is endowed with a natural ability to readjust its condition […]. This ability […] is the responsibility of the extrapyramidal motor system”*.

Régis Soavi starts practising martials arts with Judo when he is twelve. He then studies Aikido, especially alongside Masters Tamura, Nocquet and Noro. He meets Tsuda Itsuo Sensei in 1973 and will follow him until his death in 1984. With the permission of the latter, Régis Soavi becomes a professional teacher and disseminates his Aïkido and Katsugen Undo throughout Europe.

*Itsuo Tsuda, One, Yume Editions (trans. Itsuo Tsuda School, 2016), p. 46

Mémoires d’un aïkidoka

Par Régis Soavi.

Parler à mes élèves des maîtres que j’ai connus fait évidemment partie de mon enseignement. Certains eurent une telle importance que je ne peux pas m’en débarrasser d’un coup du revers de la main et prétendre que je me suis fait tout seul. Les maîtres que j’ai connus ont laissé des traces qui m’ont formé et surtout ouvert à des domaines que j’ignorais, ou que parfois je soupçonnais sans pouvoir les atteindre.

Les Maîtres du passé : des maîtres de vie ?

Il m’a toujours semblé important de ne pas faire de ces maîtres des surhommes, des génies,  des dieux. J’ai toujours considéré que ces maîtres valaient beaucoup mieux que cela. Les idoles créent une illusion, nous endorment et appauvrissent les idolâtres, elles les empêchent de progresser, de prendre leur envol de leurs propres ailes. À cet égard Tsuda Senseï, lui qui est maintenant un maître du passé, écrivait dans son huitième livre La Voie des dieux :

« Maître Ueshiba a planté des poteaux indicateurs  »c’est par là », et je lui en suis très reconnaissant. Il a laissé d’excellentes carottes à manger que j’essaye d’assimiler, de digérer. Une fois digérées, ces carottes deviennent Tsuda qui est loin d’être excellent. Cela est inévitable. Mais il est nécessaire que les carottes ne restent pas carottes, sinon elles pourrissent toutes seules, sans utilité.
Il ne s’agit pas, pour moi, d’adorer, de déifier ou d’idolâtrer Maître Ueshiba. Comme tout le monde, il avait des qualités et des défauts. Il avait des capacités extraordinaires mais il avait des faiblesses, notamment vis-à-vis de ses élèves. Il se faisait avoir par eux à cause de considérations un peu trop humaines. »Lire la suite

Un désir devenu réalité : Calligraphies de printemps.

Les 18 et 19 mai 2018 nous avons présenté dans notre dojo à Milan le livre intitulé Itsuo Tsuda, Calligrafie di primavera. Nous avons exposé plus de 80 reproductions photographiques d’excellente qualité des calligraphies de Maître Itsuo Tsuda (choisies parmi les 116 présentées dans le livre) ainsi que trois calligraphies originales.

Un article, des photos et deux vidéos pour revivre l’événement !

L’événement au Dojo Scuola della Respirazione Présentation du livre à la RAI

Lire la suite

La Trace Vide

Par Manon Soavi

« Tchouang-Tseu, grand philosophe chinois, a dit, il y a deux mille cinq cents ans : le Vrai homme respire de ses talons alors que les gens du commun respirent de leur gorge.
Qui respire aujourd’hui de ses talons ? On respire de la poitrine, de ses épaules ou de sa gorge. Le monde est rempli de ces invalides qui s’ignorent. »*  Ainsi commence Tsuda senseï dans son premier livre, publié en 1973, donnant le ton en citant le philosophe qui l’a le plus accompagné dans son parcours.
Tsuda senseï était un chercheur acharné et un homme d’une grande culture. Toute sa vie il ne cessa de travailler pour permettre à l’être humain de se dégager de ce qui l’encombre et l’entrave. Parti de sa recherche personnelle de la liberté de pensée, c’est finalement une compréhension philosophique de l’être humain qui se révéla au fur et à mesure de ses pratiques : Aïkido, Seitai, Nô… Et cette philosophie de l’être humain, cette voie, Tsuda senseï va la diffuser avant tout par ses livres* et son enseignement dans les dojos durant une dizaine d’années. Mais il est un média plus secret qu’il emprunta les dernières années de sa vie : la calligraphie.

L'ermite véritable, calligraphie de Itsuo Tsuda
L’ermite véritable, calligraphie de Itsuo Tsuda

Lire la suite


Corso Turati, 10 bis – 10128, Torino
tel  +39 328 7089439 – Email

torinoVisita il blog  del dojo Zensei Torino

La pratica regolare a Torino


 AïkidoKatsugen Undo
Movimento rigeneratore
Sabato 8:0010:00

Per iscriversi alla pratica regolare di Katsugen Undo occorre aver partecipato a uno stage.


Aikido, seduta di prova gratuita (Si consiglia di contattare preventivamente)

 AikidoKatsugen UndoAmbedue le pratiche
Quote mensili50€50€70€
Mese di scoperta35€35€50€
aikido bambini/studenti30€

La quota è annuale e pagabile mensilmente.

Adesione annuale alla Scuola Itsuo Tsuda: 15€. Quota associativa annuale 5€

Come raggiungere il dojo

Come raggiungere il dojo:
Metro: fermata Marconi o Nizza poi procedere a piedi per 10 min;
Autobus/Tram 4, 16, 14, 63

Hello Illness #2

Continuation of Régis Soavi Interview’s  about Katsugen Undo (or Regenerating Movement), a practice made by Haruchika Noguchi and spread in Europe by Itsuo Tsuda: article by  Monica Rossi  « Arti d’Oriente » (#4 / may 2000).

To read part 1 –>

Part #2

– How can one define Yuki ?

-Let the Ki circulate.

– How can Yuki help to activate the Movement?

– It helps, in the case where one has done the three exercises, or the exercises for Mutual Movement (activation through stimulation of the second pair of points on the head ; that is another way to activate the Movement). Yuki helps because it activates ; It’s very important for me to say that Yuki is fundamentally different from what we often hear spoken of, because when we do Yuki, we void our heads, we don’t cure anyone, we don’t look for anything. We are simply concentrated in the act. There is no intention, and that is primordial. In the statutes of the dojo, in fact, it is underlined that we practice “without a goal” ».

Lire la suite