In this captivating return conversation with Reverend Koichi Barrish, we delve further into concepts of energy, interconnectedness, and the metaphysical underpinnings of Aikido.

We begin with a fascinating discussion about the auspicious day of recording (Summer Solstice) as a "pivot point" in the annual solar cycle.

Reverend Barrish explains that just as the sun's energy begins to shift from increasing yang (activity) to increasing yin (recession) after the solstice, there are natural intervals or "kyō" in life. These intervals, he elaborates, are not merely voids but powerful spaces where transformational work can be done.

In Aikido, this understanding of kyō is crucial for effective technique, utilizing concepts like shikaku (dead angle) and oblique entry to create opportunities for leverage and influence.

The interview also offers a glimpse into the daily Shinto practices, with Reverend Barrish clarifying the differences between Gokito Kigan Sai (formal shrine visits where a priest prays on behalf of visitors) and Chōhai (morning prayer, where everyone prays together).

He speaks passionately about his personal daily Shugyō (austere spiritual training), which includes hours of Norito (Shinto invocations/prayer words), Tsuburi, Chinkon, and Kototama.

He describes this rigorous practice as being essential for purifying and strengthening one's ki, to remove obstructions and elevate one's energetic frequency. This allows for a deeper connection to and understanding of Kamisama (deities) and the whisper of great nature.

A core theme explored is Kannagara, which Rev. Barrish defines as "the restless, infinite movement of nature" or "the divine flow."

He eloquently illustrates this concept by describing the helical paths of planetary bodies, stars, and even atomic particles, emphasizing that "everything is in motion."

Aikido, he posits, serves as a "spiritual and physiological technology" to help practitioners "manifest Kannagara" and harmonize with this universal, rising and falling flow of ki.

It's not just about conscious understanding, but the direct, physical experience of training that helps one feel "one with the ki" and in a "state of grace."

Finally, Reverend Barrish addresses the feeling of being overwhelmed by the world's disturbing events, a sentiment I wholeheartedly share.

He reassuringly asserts that Aikido practice is not an escapism but a vital means of activating one's ki, coming to one's center, and becoming more effective in creating positive change.

O-Sensei explicitly said that the movements of Aikido were "gifted" to him by Sarutahiko no Okami, the "Guidance Kamisama" who stands at the crossroads of heaven and earth, guiding human beings on how to live.

This interview is a rich tapestry of spiritual insights, martial arts philosophy, and practical advice for navigating the complexities of modern life by connecting with ancient wisdom.

Reverend Barrish’s calm yet profound delivery makes these intricate concepts accessible, offering a compelling reason to explore the transformative power of Aikido and the deeper meaning of spiritual practice.

Please visit his website earthshinto.org and/or facebook and support his efforts.

Enjoy!

I want to start this episode off by reading a quote from Masahisa Goi, the founder of Byakko Shinko Kai, from his book 'The Future of Mankind,' translated by Fumi Johns, Byakko Press, 1985.

“The world is facing an age being placed at the crossroads of either manifesting destruction or heaven on earth. We must clearly recognize this fact.

A divine message is being revealed to all spiritualists—the message that Heaven will manifest on earth. However, there are quite a few who predict that the majority of mankind will be destroyed by the time heaven on earth manifests.

I also firmly believe that heaven on earth will manifest - however, I do not deny the tremendous loss which will occur beforehand.

If we, who pray for world peace, are only concerned with our personal salvation, it is certain that we will be saved, as well as those around us. This is so because we see all unhappiness and misfortunes as the fading images of the cause-and-effect from past lives.

We know the truth that when the karmic causes and effects vanish away, the true self, the inborn nature of the child of God, will manifest within ourselves. We also know that guardian divine spirits are always protecting us from a close proximity.

So no matter what will happen, we will pray for world peace, will not panic, cry, or clamor as common people may. We will only call upon our guardian divine spirits wholeheartedly and trust our destiny within the prayer for world peace.

In case we were to die with such thoughts, we know through the experience of many people that we would definitely be born in another world even better than the present. This means that whether we depart or remain in this world, it is of little significance.”

Byakko Shinko Kai is a Japanese new religion founded in 1955 by Masahisa Goi, primarily focused on achieving world peace and elevating human consciousness, encapsulated in its prayer, 'May Peace Prevail on Earth.'

May peace prevail on earth.

May peace be in our homes and countries.

May our missions be accomplished.

We thank thee, guardian deities and guardian spirits.

O Sensei is quoted as saying that Goi is the only person who ‘truly understands his heart’. He delivered a series of lectures specifically to Byakko Shinko Kai, which were published as 'Takemusu Aiki.'

This collaboration was pivotal in the internationalization of Aikido's spiritual message, as Byakko Shinko Kai's universalistic approach provided a framework for O Sensei's philosophy to be more broadly understood beyond its specific cultural origins.

I still have much to learn about O Sensei’s spiritual quest, not to mention my own. I’ve barely scratched the surface.

Tatsunori Imamura Sensei, a current member of Byakko Shinko Kai and esteemed Aikido sensei from Hokkaido, visited my dojo last fall. We recited the prayer for world peace together and also enjoyed a clean, powerful, precise practice session. I’ll put a link to the seminar just in case you possess time-traveling abilities and want to go back to attend, or if you want to read the blurb and see the cool picture: Seminar.

Now, getting back to the quote above… Personally, I've always leaned away from apocalyptic narratives, talking about 'the end of the world.' When I was 9, I asked my grandfather when the end of the world was going to be, and he told me, “When you die, that's the end of the world—for you.” It made sense at the time.

Now I have strong Platonic propensities—I hold pretty steadfastly to an Orphic understanding of the soul, meaning my soul is an immortal piece of an immortal world-soul, which is fashioned and nourished by a divine intellect which still can't explain everything…

At the end of the day, (the beginning of night?) there’s still a higher quality that holds the divine intellect together in unity. But if you try to call it 'the one,' problems arise in your discursive mind, so in Damascius’s (and my) opinion, you're better off calling it the ineffable.

Within the realms of the divine intellect and the world-soul, there are many questions to be answered. One of the questions I'm most intrigued by is the proposed existence of 'guardian divine spirits,' as Goi calls them.

There are mountains of recorded experiences—spanning generations—describing beings that humans (and probably most animals, maybe even plants, rocks, and water, who knows) have been in communication with since the early days of known history.

My own personal guardian divine spirit simply tells me to 'focus on Aikido'—'go to the dojo.' Despite facing some serious fiduciary obstacles, I’ve been listening.

I'm not usually one to speak of Armageddon because I believe the world is eternal (again, Platonist here, hi…). I believe that no matter what we do, no matter how corrupted and destructive some of us may become, we're never going to destroy the world.

We're destroying ourselves. That's evident. That's obvious to me.

In fact, the past few days, I’ve been in a deep depression, realizing that I’ve spent most of the first 49 years of my life trying to destroy myself in one way or another, partly based on the romanticized notion of aesthetic self-destruction I had foisted upon me by intelligence agencies through pop culture and decadent art.

And there's still a sliver of my soul that wants to make decadent art.

By decadent art, I mean art that tries to distill poignancy from the inevitable decay of this particular lifetime and all its emotional attachments, buttressed by a persona I constructed/conjured/tried to peddle to 'the world' in an active exploitation I hoped would be attractive enough to pull me out of poverty.

But along the way I got obsessed with Aikido, and through daily practice—now also through a diligent foray into the spiritual principles that undergird its creation and what I feel to be the actual purpose of the art—I may have just been rescued from this drive to narrate my own self-destruction.

Possible salvation aside, I still feel the need to address 'the end of the world,' at least to tie this rambling dissertation back to the opening quote, and also to show that my eyes are not closed to current geopolitical events.

Besides, even if 'the end of the world' is my own personal projection, it's coming.

I got maybe 35 years left in this body if I'm lucky.

I hope I have the nervous strength not to project my fears onto society as a whole—to not imagine 'the world' itself ending. That being said, the modern collective catastrophe is real. We got billions of us acting out our own inner eschatons, and some are in positions of power. No wonder s**t is so crazy all the time.

I'm going to look more into Byakko Shinko Kai. I hope to interview Imamura Sensei soon. Maybe a simple prayer for world peace and trust in divine guardian spirits is all I could do anyway.

I could easily rail about technocracy, transhumanism, psychopathy, atomism, materialism, the void, social engineering, the psy-op of 'evil spirits,' Rockefeller medicine, how the left-right paradigm is a weaponization of the Hegelian dialectic used to foment division amongst us serfs to allow for further enforcement of cybernetic control—but it's all just a manifestation of a process, a process which there’s no escape from anyway.

I'm going to the dojo now (of course). It's Wednesday, which is the night I lead class (at my dojo we don't say 'teaching the class'; we say 'leading the class').

I shouldn’t really say 'my dojo'—it doesn’t belong to me - I belong to it. I should say 'the dojo I belong to.' It’s just the way I talk. Or maybe it’s inherent in language to always denote possession.

I'm hoping more than two people show up, but I'm not holding my breath. I'm not going to talk about the impending world war or guardian spirits… At least not until after class, maybe walking to the train station, depending on who's there.

In class, I really just want to work out—get rid of some karmic cause and effect…"

and what an encouraging and captivating conversation it was…

Richard Moon Sensei, with over 55 years of Aikido experience, starting circa summer of love San Francisco (I forgot to ask if they really had flowers in their hair… I’m so jealous…) delves deep into the magi-poetic meaning behind the art. We ruminated on the "the floating bridge of heaven," explored Takemusu Aiki, and Moon Sensei also generously shared some fascinating stories of his training with Robert Nadeau (who studied directly with O Sensei.)

Plus, an incredible connection (I seemingly couldn’t get over) to the man who recorded the iconic Alan Watts tapes! Prepare for an insightful journey into the philosophy and energy behind Aikido that goes beyond physical techniques.

And check out Moon Sensei’s links:

A free download of his book

Extraordinary listening

Youtube channel

Thanks supporting in this endeavor to bring more Ki to the city!

I found another reason why I’m so fascinated by O Sensei’s life story, besides the fact that he devised the metaphysical fitness regimen I’m pleasantly addicted to.

He belonged to the generation that’s influenced my life the most dramatically. I mean, literally dramatically—the generation that laid the bricolage for the swirling psycho-dramaturgic escapades that constitute my semiliterate cybernetic peasant existence.

In other words, my favorite writers are from that generation—from the late 19th to mid-20th century…basically…more or less.

You got P.D. Ouspensky—brilliant Russian mystic philosopher who found the fifth dimension and was able to describe it in eloquent pedestrian terms, making it accessible even to regular run-of-the-mill mamalukes like me—but then he gets caught up in a neo-gnostic cult run by a conman carpet merchant hypnotist talking about how “we are food for the moon.” Okay, even if that’s true, what else am I gonna be? If that’s what it is, that’s what it is.

You got Fernando Pessoa—whose Book of Disquietude will forever haunt my own vain attempts at metapersonal esoteric poignancy.

And then you got Henry Miller (of course), Anaïs Nin—sprinkle in a little bit of D.H. Lawrence… While I’m not nearly as decadent, these three literary libertines helped me understand how to not take my own orphic tendencies so seriously, so urgently, and to let myself sink into the fragrant patience of the scenery…a little bit…sometimes.

Meanwhile, in Japan, you got Deguchi-san and O Sensei conducting seances—conjuring gods—building shrines and dojos—communicating with ancient deities—caught up in the current come along with apprehensions of mechanization, industrialization, plowing, vowing, striving to retain kinship with the spirits of nature. The Kami.

Deguchi’s voluminous writing is so tempting to tackle. Part of me’s glad it hasn’t been translated into English yet—it would take forever to read…

I also figured out why I’m obsessed with Chinkon Kishin.

Because it’s from pre-factory farm times.

It’s from before we were doomed to factory labor or, for us in “developed nations,” living off its exploitations.

Chinkon Kishin is from before the peasants had to symbolically choose between state-run factory farms or corporation-run factory farms—either way, we were getting factory farms.

Who decided this? Who knows?

But I don’t blame the gods.

Aikido was created during this crucial time in human history—right as we were being merged with machines—to keep humanity divinely animated. If this spark is lost, the bridge between heaven and earth collapses—or so I’ve heard.

If you’d like to learn more about Bjorn’s work, and I promise you will once you’ve listened to our conversation, check out his website here: Bjorn Saw

And don’t hesitate to get in touch with him. Especially if you’re into exploring cross-cultural spirituality from an experiential place.

He’s got a wealth of wisdom.

I’ll admit, sometimes I feel like I can identify more with Deguchi than O Sensei.

My (staying vague for now) childhood pain also bled me to feel the urge to “impact society” through adopting a trickster persona. So, I know how that feels. I might’ve actually been possessed by a coyote spirit—who knows? I'm not saying it’s a bad thing—pop-culture shamanism—I’m not ashamed of my past; I'm just making a cursory reference to it, as is customary in written dissertations. Even clumsy ones like this.

The nature of my own four souls is clear to me.

One soul simply wants to be a psychographical stoner, a hypnagogic sojournalist.

One wants to be a mystical martial artsy philosopher—and is disappointed by the lack of an Alan Watts accent, stronger ankles, and a full head of hair I could put up in a bun.

One wants to be an orangutan, more or less.

And one just kinda pouts about being a mildly delusional nobody from New York.

Five months ago, in earnest, I decided to "start focusing on Aikido more."

What that meant was, in addition to training 12 hours a week, I would write about Aikido instead of penning depressing dystopian songs and lyrical essays protesting techno-fascism.

What I’ve found so far is that Aikido is incredibly hard to write about…

Actually, that's not true. It’s pretty easy to write about as long as you just disregard the moldy opinions of the online gatekeepers.

If you have any semblance of an inner self—which I know some people say is illusory—but if you believe that you have one, if you admit to having an inner abiding spirit, a Naohi—and you're not one of those few people said to lack a narrative voice in their mind, then you've surely composed your own story about Aikido. Or, if you’re literarily gaudy and awkward like me, maybe you’ve composed some prose poems.

If you don't practice Aikido and somehow you’ve managed to stumble upon this obscure project—whenever you see the word Aikido—substitute it with whatever it is you're obsessed with. If you're obsessed with Pickleball, if Pickleball is your thing, every time you see the word Aikido just think of Pickleball. And whenever I mention “O Sensei” just substitute Joel Pritchard, Bill Bell, and Barney McCallum. (They invented pickleball, I looked it up.)

I've been obsessed with other physical activities: badminton, tango…

I guess that's pretty much it—I mean, as far as activities go—of course—I've been obsessed with people and places—but as far as being physically obsessed with the euphoria of participating in a specific activity—it’s only really ever been badminton, tango, and Aikido that put me in that “flow state.”

So, the fact that this exercise—Aikido—brings me to such a heightened state—and the fact that I keep going back to the dojo… yeah, you could say I'm addicted. I have an addictive personality—after all—my parents were junkies. I'm not saying that to disparage them; I'm just telling you where I come from. My life has seemingly been a series of substituting one addiction for another. I've been addicted to sugar, cereal, cookies, crayons, cartoons, fruit punch, chocolate milk, ice cream, Reese's Pieces, Hubba Bubba, Bubblicious, baseball cards, foreign films, pills, potions, lotions—everything, you name it…

(Okay, I was never really addicted to lotions, but I’m a sucker for sonority.)

So, after living with myself for almost 50 years, I’d say that what I'm looking for now lies mostly in the realm of theurgy—further merging with the universe. Even if my perceived separation from the universe is an illusion based on my limited scope. And…

Aikido is theurgy.

Quote me on that.

Lia Suzuki Shihan is the chief instructor at Aikido Kenkyukai International USA, a non-profit organization dedicated to enriching people’s lives through the practice of Aikido, The Art of Peace.

She also hosts a very popular video series called “the virtual dojo” which you can see here on her Youtube channel

I’m not going to give away too much of what we talked about - but it was very encouraging to me personally, in my own quest to find new ways to offer Aikido practice to young people who might otherwise never have the opportunity.

I hope you enjoy our conversation as much as I did.

Just had this wonderful conversation with Corky Quakenbush (and I never use the word wonderful.)

Hope you can take the time to check it out.

If Corky’s words inspired you as much as they did me, here are some of his links so you can see what he’s up to at his Aiki lab:

Corky's Youtube channel

Corky's dojo

I still want to write that book about “Aikido as theurgy,” but I'm being overly pragmatic. I feel like there’s probably only 11 people in the world who would actually want to read it, and alas, sadly, I fled long ago from academia, so I'm never going to get a grant or whatever magic academics conjure up that enables them to write about such obscure and interesting topics.

Can you tell I’m a little bit jealous? Feeling some pangs of regret about dropping out of community college (almost 30 years ago) to “focus on music.”

I've compiled (and actually read) dozens of books on western mysticism, theurgy, Japanese religion, and the roots of O Sensei's spiritual practices, but who am I kidding? Even if I could get a grant, I know I wouldn't be able to present a logical thesis anyway because my mind works in such a swirling fashion.

So, instead, for today, I'm writing a 698-word prose poem about wanting to write a book about Aikido as theurgy.

Here we go. Ready?

To me, theurgy (lowercase t) is free from any historicity that, if I was more of a scholar, I’d feel obliged to address.

As a mere amateur prose poet, I can use the word to mean just what it means etymologically—which is “divine activity.”

Aikido is a divine activity. It was developed while consciously engaging in divine activity. Of course, almost anything could be construed as divine activity at the end of the proverbial day because everything was created by the gods.

I think… Right?

Up at the top of the page, I called myself pragmatic and attributed my procrastination on writing this book, “Aikido as theurgy,” to the fact that it would only garner an audience of 11 people. The irony does not escape me that a prose poem about not being able to write that book will probably only amuse myself. And I’m obviously not pragmatic. The truth is, I feel like I can’t really write anything other than prose poetry.

I told you I dropped out of community college, right? but I had such a good connection with my creative writing teacher (who’s actually my earliest Substack subscriber) that she let me continue to attend her class for a few years after I quit. She gave me a book of Baudelaire and Rimbaud’s prose poems, which became my bible. This was while my mother was dying, so writing became a creative outlet. This was way before I found Aikido. I started going to open mics. That opened some doors. I can write regular rhyming poems too, but they become songs, and then I want to sing them—but I can't seriously ever entertain any musical endeavors while going to the dojo as much as I do now, so I just don't do it anymore…

Anyway, if you ever want to talk about Aikido as theurgy, just message me on Facebook. I still don't know how Substack works in terms of messaging people. I don't know if you can message me on Substack. If you know how that works, then do that. Otherwise, just message me on Facebook.

Truthfully, I’m exhausted. Trained too hard last week. There were some people testing, and I wanted to take “good ukemi” for them. I feel like I got hit by a bus. When I said that to my wife, she asked me if I’ve ever been hit by a bus. I haven’t, but I can’t think of a better way to describe how my body aches. “Fell down the stairs”—I don’t want to be dramatic, but…

I feel like the only choices I have in life are to be sore or to be stiff. If I don’t work out hard enough, I feel stiff, or even worse, flabby, but then I work out too hard, and I feel beat up. I've never been able to find the balance.

But even though I feel beat up, of course it’s in the theurgical sense. I still feel blessed by the gods to have this beat up body to begin with.

Sorry I tied this all up so hastily, but I said it was going to be 698 words.

If it wasn’t for Aikido, I don’t know what I’d do with myself.

I finally did my taxes. Let’s just say I owe more than I have, and that’s not much. I’m a bit monkish, got a little Yamabushi in me, so I’m not really too bothered by the poverty—it’s the fact of how much of that money goes to funding the military behemoth that continues to commit global atrocities in the name of “freedom.”

But, hey, at least I’m going to the dojo tonight for some freestyle Koshi Nage practice—I already know I’ll feel much better after class. Maybe a little sore and banged up—but definitely “more in sync with the cosmos.”

Speaking of the cosmos, I have to admit, there’s somewhat of a selfish motive to my recent literary foray into the more esoteric practices of O Sensei and the propagation of Aikido as a spiritual path.

You see, I yearn to learn exactly how this art was brought forth into existence. Born a world away, a century ago, to serve as the perfect therapeutic exercise for soothing the psychosomatic stress of a pronoid pauper prose poet such as myself.

At the risk of sounding crazy (but not actually caring)—I believe it was through O Sensei’s genuine dialogue with the gods that this practice was created.

If you want to say “the universe” instead of “the gods”—or whatever else satisfies the vernacular restrictions of the modern paradigm, feel free. I like referring to divine mystery as “the gods” because I'm Magna-Grecian by descent. My ancestors believed in the gods. And, besides, I like the way it sounds.

Through his practice of Chinkon Kishin, Kotodama, and Misogi, O Sensei gained contact with, and was instructed by, entities he colloquially and culturally called “Kami” to develop a spiritual practice employing martial techniques to express universal principles and the interplay of cosmic forces through dynamic movement…

Also, to make the world a better place…

And that’s the most important part—innit?

I’m obviously not British, but I love the way they say “innit.” More quaint than “aint it”.

Anyway—that’s the most important part—innit, to make the world a better place?

I get so bogged down by metaphysics, I almost forget the ethics. Aikido is supposed to make the world a better place. But how? By getting more people to practice? Maybe if we got the whole oligarchy to start training, they would somehow learn to be more empathetic, and the subsequent societal benefits would trickle down to us peasants. Sorry, I shouldn’t call you a peasant too. I should only speak for myself.

As a social media personality test diagnosed empath—I can feel this thick, morbid anxiety everywhere I go. The transpersonal tension these days is positively palpable. It’s always been intense, for sure—it’s New York, after all—that’s why people come here—for the buzz—but it’s just insane now. People are so on edge, well, at least when they look up from their phones…

Lettuce costs $4. Partisan politics is a nonstop, stress-inducing, dualistic dialectic perpetuated by the corporate media. Somehow, it seems like we, as a species, are still hyper-susceptible to being hypnotized into committing atrocious actions for profit.

And it’s April; it’s been nothing but cold, grey, concrete rain—ain’t no cherry blossoms yet…

But, somehow, knowing that I’m going to the dojo makes it all tolerable.

Tests are coming up, so tonight we’re going to be doing some freestyle Koshi Nage.

Maybe it’s because I practiced Judo when I was younger, or because I’m still kinda into “professional wrestling” (don’t tell anyone), or because I trained at a Kanai Sensei Style dojo for 4 years—Koshi Nage is my favorite technique. I’m not saying I would ever try to use it as a “self-defense tactic on the street,” but you never know.

As soon as I typed “Koshi Nage is my favorite technique”—all the other techniques jumped up in protest. I almost felt obliged to say, no, actually Irimi Nage is my favorite, or maybe Sumi Otoshi—stickin’ to the basics…

Of course, ultimately, I know it’s not about technique.

But, I’m obviously not there yet.

I published this last month, but now I’ve learned how to use the substack podcast function, so I’m putting it out again - in case the way I did it previously was too confusing.

Thank you for your patience!

The word theurgy is constituted from two separate Greek words: theon (divine) and ergon (action).

The martial art and philosophy of Aikido was aided substantially in its development through the founder’s participation in divine action, through spiritual practices, and subsequently, has become a divine activity itself.

In my humble opinion, this qualifies Aikido as a theurgical practice.

Why this qualification matters to me is a question probably best left to a psychoanalyst, but I like to think of this admittedly syncretic exploration as ‘introducing gods to each other’. As O Sensei said, “The art of peace that I practice has room for each of the world’s eight million gods, and I cooperate with them all.”

Whoever said, “Never meet your heroes,” had the wrong heroes, because I just had the opportunity to speak to one of mine, and I’m so glad that I did. Check out my conversation with Dr Greg Shaw where we discuss theurgy and its possible significance to Aikido practitioners, as well as Aikido and its possible significance to theurgists.

I’ve been reading (and rereading) Dr. Shaw’s books for the better part of 5 years now, and I make it a priority to listen to every podcast interview he does. To repeat what I said in the audio intro to our discussion—he’s definitely one of the coolest “Neoplatonic” scholars out there.

“Neoplatonism” started out as a pejorative term to describe late antique philosophers who viewed the world through a more mystical lens than was deemed acceptable by post “Enlightenment” academics.

Thanks to the work of Dr. Shaw—and others that I hope to someday also get a chance to speak to—Neoplatonism has found greater acceptance among modern scholars and has a wide body of ever-growing literature available to read up on if so inclined.

As I mention in my talk with Dr. Shaw, I started with Plotinus and got hooked right away. I know that late antique mystical philosophy is not for everyone, but if you’re interested in learning more about Neoplatonism in general and theurgy specifically, I highly recommend checking out Dr. Shaw’s work here: Kosmos Institute. He’s been a professor of religious studies for over 35 years, and his scholarship is top-notch.

Speaking of scholarship (albeit quite a few notches down from the top), I’m working on a book of my own about this very topic: viewing Aikido through a Theurgical lens. I stumbled a bit in relaying to Dr. Shaw some of the qualifications I believe that it has, so please allow me now to elaborate a little bit with a short essay/excerpt talking about the ritual of Chinkon Kishin, which O Sensei learned through his affiliation with the Oomoto religion, adopted, adapted, and made part of his Aikido practice.

Chinkon Kishin was a central practice within the Oomoto-kyo religion. This practice, deeply influential on O Sensei (Morihei Ueshiba, the founder of Aikido), exemplifies the quest for spiritual integration through intentional ritual action and, in my opinion, can be understood as a form of theurgy, a method for cleansing the soul, invoking, and attaining union with the divine.

Honda Chikaatsu (1822-1889) was a scholar who sought to revive ancient indigenous spiritual traditions in Japan. He developed Chinkon Kishin through combining the separate practices of chinkon (pacifying the spirit) and kishin (returning to the divine).

A transformative moment in Honda’s life occurred at age twenty-one when he witnessed a young girl reciting poetry in an erudite manner, supposedly possessed by a fox spirit. This experience spurred him to spend the next ten years wandering around the Shizuoka region, learning spiritualist techniques from various teachers and performing ascetic exercises in caves. This period of experimentation and self-discovery was crucial in developing his unique approach to spirituality. It was during this time that he moved beyond traditional Shinto practices and delved into the realm of spirit communication and possession.

Honda studied and systematized fragmentary classical references to create the blend of chinkon and kishin. In tandem, these techniques constituted a method to unite humans with the spirit world in order to acquire divine knowledge. He also introduced the concept of the Saniwa, a spirit channeler who could induce possession and communicate with the spirits.

While Honda reportedly had several hundred disciples, few were initiated deeply enough into his secret doctrines to become teachers themselves. Nagasawa Katsutate was regarded as one of Honda’s best students. He carried on the tradition of Honda’s reigaku (spirit studies) at Shizuoka’s Miho and Yamanashi Shrines, where he was chief priest. In 1892 he received approval from prefectural authorities to establish Inari Kòsha, a religious organization created with the purpose of teaching chinkon kishin, at Yamanashi Shrine, dedicated to Ame no Uzume, the deity associated with spirit possession.

It was here that Onisaburò Deguchi (charismatic leader of the Oomoto-kyo religion) came to visit and study in 1898. He learned this practice from Nagasawa, became a saniwa himself, and integrated chinkon kishin into his burgeoning new religion.

Deguchi taught a handful of high-ranking Oomoto followers to serve as saniwa. He himself rarely presided at public gatherings but would make an appearance and intervene if the possessing spirits were excessively violent or unruly. It’s primarily owing to Oomoto’s popularization of Honda’s techniques that chinkon kishin spread widely. Under Deguchi, the pool of potential participants was enlarged to include the general public.

Chinkon Kishin, as practiced within Oomoto, involved specific ritualistic elements designed to facilitate union with the divine. The use of a special stone as a focal point, the adoption of specific postures and hand positions (mudras), and the recitation of prayers accompanied by music were all ritual actions intended to cleanse the practitioner's spirit and invoke the presence of spirits and deities. The aim was to transcend the mundane and achieve (to use another Greek term) a form of henosis.

Here’s a lengthy quote from Nancy Stalker’s book—Prophet Motive: Deguchi Onisaburo, Oomoto, and the Rise of New Religions in Imperial Japan—describing a typical Chinkon Kishin ritual:

“The practice itself had three main elements: a chinkon stone, a special posture and hand position (mudra), and music and recitation provided by the saniwa. The chinkon stone was a small, heavy rock, ideally received from the spirit world in a miraculous manner. Since that was a rare and unpredictable occurrence, an appropriate stone could also be sought out on the grounds of shrines, holy mountains, riverbeds, and seashores. Once a fitting specimen was located, it was washed carefully in water, purified with salt, placed in a brocade bag, and enshrined on a small altar. The receiver, or kannushi, took the proper posture, kneeling in seiza position and crossing his legs so that the big toe of the right foot rested on the big toe of the left foot. He or she made the chinkon mudra (also called the ama no nuhoko) by holding the hands at chest level, fingers interlaced and pointing toward the palm, index fingers pointed upwards. The thumb of the left hand was placed on top of the thumb of the right hand. The kannushi sat with eyes closed for 20–30 minutes, concentrating so that thoughts and spirit gathered into the stone. The saniwa had to pay close attention to the state of the kannushi’s spirit in chinkon meditation. If the receiver reached an appropriate level of trance, he or she was ready for the descent or manifestation of the spirit. To achieve this, the saniwa clapped his hands and began to play a stone flute or ocarina (iwabue) to create a mysterious occultic atmosphere. He recited the Amatsu Norito prayer and the Ama no Kazuuta, or Heavenly Number Song. After the possessing spirit manifested itself, the saniwa had to determine the variety of spirit—that is, whether it was good or evil and its rank and lineage—through a question and answer dialogue. As there were 181 ranks each of good and evil spirits in Honda’s classification, the saniwa needed to be well schooled in classics naming and describing Shinto deities in order to identify the spirit appropriately”

Many Aikido practitioners already know the story of how O Sensei first met Deguchi, so I will try to make it short and sweet, paraphrased from A Life in Aikido (the biography of founder Morihei Ueshiba) written by his son, Kisshomaru Ueshiba.

O Sensei, fraught with anxiety over his critically ill father, faced a daunting ten-day journey by train from Hokkaido back to Kishu to visit him. Thoughts of his father’s suffering weighed heavily on him. On the train ride, a chance conversation with a fellow passenger sparked a glimmer of hope. The passenger spoke of Oomoto, a “miraculous new religion in Ayabe,” capable of extraordinary things. This mention resonated with O Sensei, who was hoping for a miracle, and upon reaching Kyoto, he deviated from his path to Kishu and instead headed to Ayabe.

Arriving in late December 1919, he was immediately struck by the town’s vibrant atmosphere. The sight of people, young and old, wearing distinctive attire emblazoned with the Omoto crest, was unlike anything he had anticipated. He had expected a small, perhaps traditional, religious gathering, but what he found was a bustling center of energy. Led as if by an unseen force, he reached the Omoto headquarters, where a beautiful shrine stood amidst spacious gardens covered in snow. The grounds were filled with imposing buildings, creating an aura of purity and sacredness.

O Sensei requested prayers for his ailing father at the headquarters and was directed to the Konryu-den prayer building. There, he began a requiem prayer, drawing upon his knowledge of Tantric Buddhist rituals. As he prayed, he sensed a powerful presence entering the building. It was Onisaburo Deguchi.

Deguchi approached and asked, “Did you see anything?”

O Sensei replied that he saw his father, appearing thin and frail, almost transparent.

Deguchi responded calmly, “There is nothing to worry about with your father.”

These words, initially perplexing, began to resonate with O Sensei over the following days. He realized Deguchi was alluding to the natural course of life and the importance of accepting its end with serenity.

Deeply moved by Deguchi’s words and the atmosphere at Oomoto, O Sensei stayed in Ayabe for three days. He immersed himself in the teachings of Oomoto and practiced Chinkon Kishin. It was as if his urgent need to return to his father’s side had momentarily faded.

Deguchi’s statement, “There is nothing to worry about with your father,” was the catalyst for O Sensei’s immediate connection to him and his interest in Oomoto. Had Deguchi offered a simple prayer or words of consolation, their encounter might have been fleeting. Instead, his profound insight and the spiritual energy of Oomoto drew O Sensei in, marking a turning point in his life.

As many Aikidoka also know, O Sensei moved his family to Ayabe after his father’s death and became a faithful adherent of Oomoto, serving as the right-hand man/bodyguard of Deguchi for many (often tumultuous) years. His involvement in Oomoto profoundly shaped his spiritual understanding and the development of Aikido. His adoption of Chinkon Kishin into his training more than adequately reflects this influence.

O Sensei’s augmented version of Chinkin Kishin (which many Aikidoka still perform to this day as pre-class warmups), consisting of Shin Kokyu (breathing rituals), Torifune (rowing exercises), and Furutuma (spirit-shaking), is intended to manipulate and channel cosmic energy. These exercises were developed not just as part of a physical, calisthenic routine, but as intentional ritual actions aimed at achieving ecstatic union with the divine.

In my upcoming book(let) - I hope to show in further detail how Chinkon Kishin, as well as other theurgical practices that O Sensei was engaging in throughout his life, were influential in the development of Aikido, and how Aikido itself can be seen as a form of a theurgy.

For now, I hope I’ve piqued your interest at least slightly.

On this episode of Ki to the City, I had the pleasure of speaking with Quentin Cooke, an Aikido sensei from Cambridge, UK.

You can link to his dojo here: Dojo link

Cooke Sensei started Aikido for Daily Life about 17 years ago with his brother, Piers. Their goal was to create a non-hierarchical organization that removed the politics often found in traditional martial arts, focusing instead on how Aikido principles can be applied to everyday life.

He emphasizes that if Aikido is truly about reconciling the world, its teachings must extend beyond the physical practice.

Cooke Sensei is on the board of directors for Aiki Extensions, an international non-profit organization founded in 1998 by Don Levine in Chicago. This organization aims to connect individuals interested in using Aikido as a tool to support good causes and integrate its principles into their professional and personal lives. They’ve facilitated initiatives like "training across borders," bringing together people from conflicting nations to practice Aikido and foster understanding.

A central theme of our discussion is the concept of taking Aikido off the mat, applying core Aikido principles—centering, grounding, relaxation, and extending Ki ("awareness")—in any life setting. Cooke sensei views the physical practice on the mat as a powerful method for learning these principles, which can then be used to navigate real-world situations with greater calm and make better decisions.

The conversation also touches on the current state of Aikido's popularity. Cooke Sensei notes a decline in new inquiries for his dojo compared to previous years, attributing it to broader societal changes such as the instant gratification culture, which discourage long-term commitments.

Together, we weigh the benefits of Aikido's appeal being be broadened by repositioning it not so as a martial art, but as a "mindfulness on the move" practice, similar to yoga or Tai Chi.

We agreed that Aikido offers significant therapeutic benefits, aiding in psychological, emotional, and physical well-being, and fostering confidence that extends to all aspects of life.

Cooke Sensei also shares his experience of collecting stories of Aikidoka from around the world for his book, A Way to Reconcile the World, which focuses on how Aikido made a difference in people's daily lives rather than their fighting prowess.

Enjoy!

Check out Ellis’ writing at: Edgework books and Kogen Budo

Don’t mind me, I’m just moving my podcast over to Substack….

Last Wednesday, I was honored to be a guest on the Aeon Byte podcast.

If you’d like to hear that episode, please click this link: Aeon Byte.

There’s also a video up on Youtube (link) - if you’d like to see how excessively I talk with my hands and never seem to look in the right spot / at the webcam.

(Man, “webcam” is such an insidious word if you stop to consider the insectile connotation.)

Aeon Byte’s host (and self-described pompatus of Gnosis), Miguel Connor, facilitates deep exploratory discussions into how ancient wisdom traditions can offer insights into the complexities of the modern world.

Aikido fits this criteria perfectly, as it’s clearly evident that the roots can be traced back to archaic spiritual practices (by archaic, I don’t mean obsolete; I mean primary) and it’s been my go-to coping mechanism for dealing with the “complexities” of the modern world—AKA cybernetic dystopia.

The physical practice of Aikido puts me into a more harmonious relationship with the universe. For real, the cosmos—great nature—whatever you want to call it, it clicks. After class I feel more in tune. My body’s kind of humming, vibrating. I barely even bump into the hypnotized androids walking down the subway steps watching videos on their phones.

Unfortunately, like any other tradition addiction, the buzz inevitably wears off, and I have to go back to the dojo and practice again because, you know how life is.

Life right now in “the first world” is physically very boring and simultaneously psychologically terrifying. Faced with screens all day, every day—most of us, at least—one way or another—the phone, the laptop, the tablet, the TV—all screens—nonstop nudging propaganda—reducing consciousness to two dimensions.

I’m a little jealous of the people who don’t seem to be fazed by this, those who welcome the technocracy with open palms as progress. But anyway…

May peace prevail on Earth.

Aikido is a four-dimensional exercise that reconciles tangible existence with spacetime. We’re moving, coordinating, and harmonizing with other living human beings. At least that’s how I try to train—treating the techniques as kasutori, misogi—massaging out the toxicity, in my own puerile, pedestrian way—purifying what’s left of my body and soul.

May peace prevail on Earth.

Speaking of ancient traditions, I'm thrilled to announce that I'm going to have Reverend Koichi Barrish back on the show very soon to talk more about the connection between Shinto and Aikido. Since our last conversation, I've attended two of Reverend Barrish's Saturday morning Chouhai group prayer ceremonies (online, of course), and I feel invigorated by participating in such an activity expressly geared towards divine interaction—you know, theurgy.

I've also been reading a lot about Sarutahito Okami, the deity claimed by O Sensei as his tutelary spirit and god of Aiki. But alas, (I love saying “alas”) I still don't feel like I know enough about Shinto to really write about it. I can only clumsily express how it feels to be drawn towards a religiocultural phenomenon that's been a mystery to me for so long and is now starting to become a little bit more clear, as I’m fortunate enough to have the ear of an actual Shinto priest.

It could be construed cynically that I'm just crafting a crudely constructed emotional echo chamber to hide away in because what's going on in “the world" right now is just too monstrous to tackle intellectually, but I prefer to think of it more as sticking to my path.

May peace prevail on Earth.

On this episode of Ki to the City, I had the immense honor of speaking with Reverend Koichi Barrish.

Reverend Barrish is not only an experienced Aikido sensei but also a licensed Shinto priest, holding the significant rank of Guji (High Priest). He is notable for being one of the first non-Japanese people to become a licensed priest in Jinja Shinto (Shrine Shinto).

I highly recommend checking out these links for his Website and Facebook group

This interview goes beyond mundane discussions of martial technique to explore the deep spiritual practices that shaped Aikido and O-Sensei. Reverend Barrish shares his personal journey, revealing how his fascination with O-Sensei's process led him to seek out and immerse himself in Shinto studies in Japan.

His path led him to Tsubaki Grand Shrine, where he was mentored by the very Guji who installed the Kami (deities) in O-Sensei's Aiki shrine. Through this extraordinary connection, Reverend Barrish was invited to study and eventually received his Shinto priesthood license and subsequent promotions.

A central theme of our conversation is the direct connection between Aikido and the divine. Reverend Barrish discusses how, according to O-Sensei's own words, the very movements of Aikido were gifted to him by Sarutahiko No O Kami, the ancestor Kami-sama of Aikido, and the ancestor of all earthly kami-sama. The profound mission of Aikido, as transmitted by this deity, is to help human beings fulfill their mission – which Reverend Barrish explains involves elevating to a more divine way of being and even aiding in the reorganization of the earth itself. This perspective, he notes, is analogous to an esoteric understanding of the Oharae no Kotoba, the primal liturgy of Shrine Shinto.

We delve deep into specific esoteric practices that influenced O-Sensei and that Reverend Barrish has extensively studied and practiced. Key among these (of course) is Chinkon. While Omoto ultimately ceased this practice due to it being deemed "too dangerous", Reverend Barrish views it as a "working technology" and a shamanic place of contact. He was fortunate enough to learn Chinkon directly from a main teacher of the practice at Tsubaki Shrine.

Another crucial practice discussed is Ibukiho, a breathing meditation deeply associated with Aikido and part of Chinkon. This involves conscious, extended breathing, cultivating the body to become a conduit, a Himorogi (temporary resting place for divine power), and moving Ki through the body. The concept of Kotodama, the spiritual power of sound and word, is also explored, linking O-Sensei's chanting (Norito) to the idea that words spoken with truth and experience have powerful effects, capable of creating reality.

Reverend Barrish also shares fascinating details about his involvement with Byakko Shinko Kai, a group with close ties to O-Sensei. His participation in one of their international prayer for world peace events led directly to him introducing Aikido to Russia shortly after the fall of the Soviet Union, fulfilling a vision of Aikido diplomacy.

Currently residing in Kissimmee, Florida, Reverend Barrish runs an Inari shrine and Aikido dojo. The Inari shrine is dedicated to the kami-sama of life essence and the process of how Kotodama creates reality. He continues his daily practice, including intensive Chinkon training, and teaches both locally and to students joining via Zoom.

Enjoy!

This episode of Ki to the City features a conversation with Simon Cox, Kung Fu teacher and Research Fellow at Esalen Institute, exploring (what else?) the intersection of Western esoteric traditions and Eastern mystic martial arts.

Simon trained for six years at a Taoist monastery in Wudang, China, studying Qigong, Kung Fu, Neidan, and Taoist alchemy. (He’s also performed with Jackie Chan and Jet Li!) After his immersive training, he went on to earn a PhD in religion at Rice University. His dissertation, titled "A Genealogy of the Subtle Body," (which we discuss at length) provides a historical examination of this concept of the soul’s vehicle within the Western intellectual tradition. He continues his research into this (literally) engrossing topic at the Esalen Center for Theory and Research.

For more about Simon, including a link to his brilliant book, check out his website here: Simon's website

And for further info on his work at Esalen, click this little link: Subtle body initiative

We delved deep into the relationship between physical disciplines, mystical traditions, and spiritual practices. Simon's academic work on the Subtle Body provides a comparative framework for understanding non-physical energetic aspects in martial arts, drawing from Western traditions like Neoplatonism and Eastern traditions like Taoist alchemy and Neidan.

Our conversation explores how Taoist alchemy, mountain mysticism, and Neoplatonism relate to physical and spiritual practice. (Of course I fit in my “Aikido as theurgy” mantra, and briefly detail O Sensei's involvement with Omoto and Chinkon Kishin.) Simon provides valuable insight into the Japanese reception of Taoism and mountain mysticism, offering a context for O Sensei's practices and influences, such as Shugendo and Shingon Buddhism.

Simon also eloquently describes the concept of Qi/Ki and its relation to the subtle body, comparing terms like Prana and Pneuma. We also address how physical disciplines such as martial arts can satisfy similar urges as the intellectual contemplation of mystical concepts and the relationship between academic study and lived experience.

Enjoy!

Oh, and here’s some “bonus content”… AKA I edit on GarageBand and I couldn’t fit the whole conversation into one file…

The real AI…

That was, originally, going to be the name of this project—"The real AI"—but I decided against it because, ultimately, I don't want to come across as contentious.

“Ki to the City” more accurately indicates my mission. I really just want to bring more ki to the city, promote my dojo, promote Aikido… And, anyway, I can’t claim to profess to know what’s “real” or what isn’t.

I also don't want to insult people who are strong proponents of what they call artificial intelligence. Well, sometimes I do want to insult people who are strong proponents of what they call artificial intelligence, I just don't want to necessarily do it in such a semi-permanent way as this virtual ink stain here on this screen page.

But yeah, the real Ai is love—the real Ai is harmony—this other AI… all it would take is a strong solar flare or some other catastrophic meteorological event to just come knock out all the power grids and it's gone—it's finger snapped out of existence.

I'm not saying I don't use what they call Artificial Intelligence. I find it pretty useful for correcting my punctuation. As you can see, I get annoyed with commas and semicolons and end up over-using dashes. I’m not ever gonna send my writing to a proofreader—I use AI for that—so I guess I’m a bit hypocritical.

I'm also susceptible to trying to come up with catchy titles. “The Real AI” was a song I wrote during a fictional fugue state last year. In songs you can get away with making declarative statements without having to back them up with “arguments.”

Speaking of arguments, earlier today I was pondering over whether to write a prose poem called “O Sensei as shaman” or one called “Arguing about Aikido on social media.” But I decided I couldn’t commit to writing either.

I didn’t write “O Sensei as shaman” because it would’ve required too many footnotes for this funk I’m in—and I don't feel like I'm in a position to qualify anyone else as a shaman or not. It sounds cool and I think it’s true—but how many people would really be interested in that besides me, anyway? Raise your hand…

And the second one, “Arguing about Aikido on social media”—well, that's just kind of like some low-hanging fruit. It would be easy to write about quite vividly because it's a phenomenon that’s been impressed upon me viscerally in the immediate vicinity of my own sensory experience. I mean, I didn't argue online about Aikido today, but I almost did—and have before.

Since I've been working on this project in earnest, I've been way more active on social media than I’ve ever really wanted to be in my life—and I've gotten sucked into myriad mucky trifling vortices of “debate” regarding Aikido.

I can’t always resist...

The real Ai is love—the real Ai is harmony! I should just focus on that. Why can't I just ignore the gatekeepers and extol the praises, pen the exhortations, cerebrally celebrate, rhetorically embellish, define a new generation…

Incidentally, O Sensei was a shaman because he conversed with the ethereal realm and brought back a technology that could soothe us spiritually against the onslaught of industrial mechanization. (See how I shoe-horned that in?)

Training’s been difficult lately because the attendance has been pretty low. When only a few people show up to class, I feel like it's just so much more intense, both physically and psychologically.

It's also a little weird because some people at my dojo are subscribed to this Substack, and I feel like when I write now—I'm thinking too much about what they will think about it—and it kind of reminds me of when I first started going to open mics after my mother died. Sometimes my friends from highschool, or, once in a while, my grandmother would come along, and afterwards they’d ask me what my poetry meant. And I had to admit that I didn't really always know myself—it was all pretty much just anecdotal psychography.

I'm a little nervous…

In two weeks I'm gonna be going on a podcast—a pretty popular para-political podcast—to talk about this project: Ki to the City.

This podcast I'm gonna be going on is right up my alley, in terms of subject matter. You see, I've always been interested in “the occult”—although I like to refer to it as “the metaphysical” so it doesn't sound like I'm trying to be spooky.

I'm not into Aleister Crowley, or anything like that.

My dogged interest in such matters probably mostly stems from my mother’s death when I was young. I've always wanted to know what happened to her spirit/if I'm ever going to see her again. So, if there needs to be a psychoanalytical explanation for my interest in the spirit world, that would be it, I suppose.

My father generously supplying me with books and conversations on such topics also surely kindled the flame of my interest in the supernatural, but I don't really need to get into all this right now…

Now I want to talk about the responsibility I feel going on this podcast to talk about what I'm gonna be talking about.

At the beginning of this year, I had a vague urge—a new idea.

I’d been writing protest songs—songs against tyranny, songs against technocracy, songs against greed-fueled sociopathy under the guise of ideology, songs protesting cyber serfdom…anyway—you get the point… And I found myself shamelessly trying to promote these songs on Twitter, or X, or whatever you want to call it—and I just really didn't like the feeling…

So I thought—or something thought through me—I just want to focus on Aikido, something positive for a while, see what that does, see what that does to my mood, my mind—because I was depressed. I mean, I've always kind of battled with that lower pole—so this is nothing new—but I was depressed in a hyper-dystopian way that was starting to really wear me down.

And I don’t want to just be a critic of what’s wrong with society. I want to offer a remedy—give hope to the situation—and the therapeutic activity that I've stuck with for the longest in my life—the thing I'll never skip or quit—is Aikido.

And so, I wanted to share this gift of Aikido somehow.

I’ve also developed the habit of listening obsessively to podcasts centered mostly on themes such as I mentioned at the beginning of this piece—even dabbled with (the last few years) publishing my own cryptic critiques in a spoken prose poem format, so it seemed natural to continue with this style of communication.

So far, the universe seems to be pleased with me following this path. And I'm not here to displease the universe.

So, when I go on this podcast, what I really want to talk about mostly is Aikido as a spiritual practice, But I'm still a little scared to admit—because I don't want to sound like a complete lunatic—that I genuinely believe the gods gave us Aikido practice as a way to endure what we’re going through now.

The gods gave us Aikido as a therapeutic remedy for this sedentary lifestyle. This detached, screen-looking, nonstop mental disassociation, android, schizoid, paralytic punishment, banishment, technetronic wasteland it appears we're headed towards has got to be affecting us—even if it’s just on the subconscious level (that I would probably just call ‘spiritual’ because I don't care, but…)—that feeling of dread from knowing that the robots are taking over (not really the robots but the people who are making the robots) and all we can do is just… hold our breath to get through it—until it's over. I guess.

So, the gods know the future—right?—at least to some degree—and they saw what was coming. The past centuries were full of prophecies—of course, there’s always charlatans and con artists pretending to be prophets—but that doesn't mean that there weren’t—aren’t—some bona fide divinely prescribed messages delivered unto human society.

So I'm going on this podcast as an ambassador of Aikido to appeal to the more esoterically attuned—to let them know that there's a physical exercise—a living, breathing, moving, theurgical exercise—they can do that’ll help put them back in sync with the cosmos again.

I know it's not the only way to get back in sync with the cosmos again, but it's one of the most dynamic four-dimensional fun ways to do it… and you learn how to throw people, and be thrown - gracefully, and you learn how to get back up, and you gain some flexibility, you gain some core strength, you gain some balance, feel a little bit better about yourself when you’re walking around…

If you still walk around…

On this episode of Ki to the City (re-issued because I figured out how to use Substack better) you'll hear a mind-blowing conversation with Don Dickie. Don brings a rich and diverse background to his Aikido practice, drawing insights from cognitive neuroscience, kinesiology, Taekwondo, and Tibetan Buddhist meditation. This blend of experience has significantly enhanced his Aikido, particularly in freestyle practice.

The discussion delves into various fascinating topics, including an in-depth exploration of the mind-body connection and how it manifests in practice.

A key focus of the conversation is the efficacy of meditation in enhancing Aikido. As Don explains, meditation is fundamentally about developing awareness, being aware of everything without fixating on any single thing. This state of awareness allows you to notice thoughts and emotions without getting caught up in them, or to consciously choose to engage with them. Applying this principle to Aikido practice means cultivating that same overall awareness while performing techniques.

This mastery and awareness are intrinsically linked to the concept of Ki. Don highlights that to leverage the benefits of Ki in posture, health, throwing, or controlling, you cannot be thinking about the technique, as this sends Ki to the head. Instead, having that open awareness, cultivated through meditative practices, prevents interference with the Ki flow, staying true to O-Sensei's idea of connecting Ki to what is happening around you.

Aikido is a spiritual path, and this conversation touches upon how the ability to connect with the divine might be present in everyone. Don also shares his perspective on the importance of building community as a chief instructor.

Discover how Don Dickie's unique blend of scientific and contemplative practices informs his approach to Aikido, offering insights into the interconnectedness of mind, body, and spirit in martial arts training.

And check out his Dojo if you’re ever in Ottawa!

Ottawa Aikikai Dojo

I have some exciting news to announce. An extraordinary development occurred in my strange little story…

Rev. Koichi Barrish has agreed to teach me Chinkon.

Chinkon, meaning "pacifying the soul" or "calming the spirit," is an ancient Shinto practice aimed at gathering scattered aspects of one's spiritual essence back within the center of the body.

This mysterious process offers a way to achieve a state of inner stillness, to strengthen the soul, and to restore innate purity, aligning with Shinto's emphasis on spiritual cultivation and connection to the divine

It goes without saying, (but I’m trying to be a writer, so I have to ) that this could be a profound personal pivot point - digging a direct channel to the esoteric wellspring I believe shaped the very art of Aikido.

The immense significance of this opportunity is something I’m still trying to fully process.

As you might’ve have noticed - my virtual obsession with Chinkon began shortly after the inception of this project, fueled in part by a transformative passage from A Life in Aikido, by Kissomaru Ueshiba. That brief chapter, recounting O Sensei’s three-day immersion in Chinkon Kishin with Onisaburo Deguchi in Ayabe, ignited my relentless study.

What I think I’ve learned so far is that O Sensei saw Chinkon as essential for developing wisdom. His focus ultimately shifted from passive kamigakari (spirit possession) towards actively embodying divine power and achieving unification with universal principles. He aimed to become one with kami and the movement of nature.

My admittedly syncretic classification of Chinkon (and Aikido itself for that matter) as a form of theurgy emerged immediately from this autodidactic submersion, reflecting my intuitive understanding of its profound nature.

And now I have the chance to learn how to do it myself!

Learning from Barrish Sensei is particularly invaluable because it comes with the assurance of proper lineage protection. He stressed the inherent dangers of the practice, a caution that resonates with my own research into Omoto’s mediated spirit possession, which they ultimately ceased due to safety concerns.

Learning from Rev. Barrish, therefore, offers me access to this powerful practice in a way that respects its traditional transmission and, crucially, mitigates the risks associated with an incomplete understanding. This direct instruction will provide an embodied experience of one of the very practices that shaped O-Sensei's creation of Aikido.

This isn't about gaining new information - it’s about striving towards an authentic, direct route to experiencing this profound art’s origins first hand.

Barrish Sensei has been teaching Chinkon since the 1980s - and he emphasized to me that its primary purpose is to revitalize the senses and gather the dispersed aspects of the spirit, consolidating them within the body's center (aka the tanden or hara.)

The ultimate goal, as he describes it, is to sync one’s vibratory essence to the Kami's vibratory essence - returning to the source, activating life power, and living naturally. Importantly, it's about raising to meet the divine, rather than trying to pull the divine down to you. (sounds like theurgy to me)

As per his instructions - for the past week now, I've been diligently working on ibuki-nagayo, or ibuki-ho (long life breathing). Ibuki-ho involves prolonged inhalation and exhalation. Deep breaths. Aiming to become a living channel for cosmic energy.

If there truly is a method for tuning my mind and body into better alignment with the cosmic gods, the universe, or whatever other name a mortal like me can give to the ineffable, mysterious, greater being, I’d be a fool to pass up the opportunity.

No matter how difficult it seems right now to make room for breathing exercises among mundane activities like survival / making a living, I’m incredibly excited to embark on this next phase of learning.

To learn more about the important, amazing work Rev. Koichi Barrish is doing please check out the links below:

Website

Facebook

As “Ki to the City” approaches the six month mark, I've been reflecting, sifting through insights gleaned from conversing with the luminaries I've had the pleasure of engaging with. Personally, it's been a profoundly positive and metaphysically enriching experience for me, so far. And I sincerely hope to continue for as long as humanly possible.

I've absorbed more about the intricate history and mystico-philosophical heritage of Aikido in these past six months then the previous 23 years of my training. I even found someone to teach me Chinkon Kishin. (More about that in the near future, I hope.)

But I can't quite ignore this subtle tinge of jealousy I feel - how strongly I wish I was born a generation earlier. Hearing all the stories of Aikido back in the golden era just reminds me how much cooler it must’ve been to come of age in the 70s. It’s the same vicarious wistfulness I used to feel when I was playing in a band in the late 90s while reading biographies of Jim Morrison and Jimi Hendrix..

It's a bit disheartening - to be honest. At my dojo, on the walls, there are pictures aplenty from old seminars - decades past - and in all of them - there’s dozens and dozens of people.

What, truly, can I do to get my dojo back to that level of prosperity? Of course, I mean without diluting the practice itself?

I consider myself a fourth generation Aikidoka. O Sensei basically lived on the same timeline as my great grandfather - in essence, he could be my great grandfather. That’s what makes me fourth generation. I'm also more or less the same age as Waka Sensei. A few years older, but you get the point.

So, what’s the bestowed mission of a fourth generation Aikidoka? Especially one such as myself training at a dojo currently facing major difficulties attracting new members?

I harbored the perhaps delusional hope that this podcast, this Substack, would send ripples through the ether and somehow initiate a changing current. But, so far, while on a personal level it's certainly enriched my understanding of the history and metaphysics of the art form, and has introduced me to some amazing people, it really hasn't served the original purpose of helping my dojo - the dojo I actually train at - the sacred place I go to five days a week to engage in the practice itself.

Looks like I have some further contemplation to undertake. I have to make some new plans. Even though my plans never work out, I still have to make some, right?

I'm not saying this to be negative, it’s just an observation, and I’m writing about myself so I have to be honest, but my plans never work out. Never.

It’s ok - I've pretty much learned to navigate this almost anti-psychic quality I possess, this inability to ever accurately predict the future based on my own ideas, calculations, or motivations. For what it’s worth - usually - something better than I could’ve ever imagined happens instead of what I was actually expecting.

But right now - I legitimately don’t know what to do.

I’d love to just spout some flowery language describing how ‘everything's gonna be OK’ - I’d love to say I have resolute faith in the kami, and believe that they will assuredly intervene - absolutely - and Aikido will survive another generation…

Of course, I recognize that it's more than a bit pompous, presumptuous, and perhaps narcissistic to imagine that Aikido's survival is in jeopardy, or, at all, in my hands. I had the fortune of visiting Hombu dojo last fall, and it was crowded. There were still tons of people training. It doesn't look like Hombu is in danger of going out of business any time soon.

But the dojo I belong to… well I think it’s a remarkable place and deserves to survive.

So how can I help? Truly help?

I've been living out the narrative arc of an obscure literary character for most of my adult life. I’ve barely existed within the mercantile framework that most people exist in (seemingly with silent, unobtrusive qualms).

I'm out here on the perimeter. Kind of a bum - mostly a benevolent mystical bum. Never like a hard drug alcoholic ruining other people's lives type of bum.

I was always just someone who had a violent traumatic early life and was trying to find peace. So I didn't wanna get entangled in too much complicated, capitalistic, karmic accretion s**t. I didn't wanna be involved in “the system”. I didn't wanna contribute my energy to the military industrial complex - and all its branches. I was heavily recruited by the Air Force in high school but I didn't wanna bomb nobody. I guess I resigned from my post long ago.

Since that early resignation - figuring out how to keep myself afloat financially has always been a problem. Now I find myself a board member of a dojo having that same problem and I’m looking for practical solutions.

It could just be something as simple as handing out flyers in the neighborhood. Maybe I just need to start going like an hour early to do some hands on promotion.

But there's only so much time in the day…

In my latest discussion with Kayla Feder Sensei, Chief Instructor at Aikido of Berkeley, I had the privilege of delving into the heart of this martial art in a profound way.

From the very beginning of our conversation, as I observed Kayla Sensei sitting in her serene garden, the topic of "grounding" or "earthing" immediately came up. She spoke about the ancient wisdom of connecting with Mother Earth by simply putting bare feet on the planet. It’s a practice she’s been doing for years, finding it to be one of the most healing things we can do for ourselves.

What struck me most was how this idea of being in touch with nature seamlessly wove into the philosophy of Aikido. O Sensei constantly emphasized the importance of nature. Reading any of his wisdom teachings, we both noted, reveals this consistent theme: appreciating nature, touching nature, and recognizing how much it is a part of who we are. She described it as mirroring nature on the mat, a feeling that becomes more ingrained with further practice. This is ultimately a way of life that seeks harmony with the natural world.

Our discussion then drifted to the spiritual aspects, as Kayla Sensei shared her insights on a healer named Lorna Byrne who sees angels and emphasizes the importance of noticing the birds, trees, and wind around us. This concept of being present and aware of the natural world, even in its subtlest forms, echoed the sentiments of O Sensei. The core of this connection lies in opening the heart, a key theme that kept resurfacing throughout our talk.

Kayla Sensei eloquently articulated O Sensei’s discourse on heaven, earth, and human. She explained that within us, as human beings, there’s a spark of the divine, a bright light of love, compassion, and beauty, alongside our very human nature. Aikido, for her, is so beautiful because it encompasses all these aspects. While there are technical elements—learning where to put your hands and feet—there are also the hidden and divine realms to explore.

The hidden realm involves subtle listening: listening to your partner, listening to nature, listening to the attack, and paying attention to energy.

The divine realm, often inexplicable, is where the movement of Aikido and the energy between partners becomes truly beautiful and profound.

I was particularly fascinated to learn about Kayla Sensei's early introduction to Aikido. She started at the incredibly young age of nine - drawn to it because it offered a path without winners or losers, unlike the competitive sports she played. This desire for something non-competitive resonated deeply with her, and she immediately knew Aikido was what she had been searching for.

At 16, she went to Iwama, Japan, to study as an Uchideshi with Saito Sensei, a journey that felt like destiny. She was received incredibly well, with Saito Sensei being remarkably supportive.

Her experiences training with other Sensei further illuminated the vastness of Aikido. She illustrates the importance of "researching" Aikido by training with as many different people as possible, highlighting how diverse and rich the practice is.

Despite the challenges and difficulties, Kayla Sensei expresses deep gratitude for her journey, emphasizing that even painful times contribute to depth.

This interview with Kayla Feder Sensei was a truly enlightening experience for me. It reinforced my belief that Aikido is far more than a martial art; it's a holistic path to connecting with nature, understanding the divine within us, and fostering healing and compassion in the world. Her passion and deep understanding of Aikido's spiritual essence are truly inspiring, and I encourage everyone to listen to this incredible conversation.

I apologize if it’s been a bit quiet on the podcast front.

I’m willing to attribute to destiny the fact that my last few scheduled conversations kind of canceled last minute.

It’s totally understandable from a cosmic viewpoint: life is complicated.

I’ve been so busy working on the “new phase” of this project that I haven’t had the time to follow up with people or try to book new guests as diligently as I should have.

The momentum of weekly interviews has been kind of halted, but I’m embracing it as a necessary pause to bring you some exciting news.

Before I get into that, though, I want to put an open invite out into the ether:

If anyone listening to or reading this has any desire to come on the show and talk about Aikido, please don’t hesitate. Reach out to me!

I’m open to exploring anyone’s perspective.

You don’t need to be a 7th Dan Shihan to have a voice here. Even if you just started training yesterday, or if you’re still thinking about starting but for whatever reason you haven’t yet, I want to hear from you.

This podcast is an exploration of the art from all angles, and the beginner’s mind is just as vital as the seasoned sensei’s.

Let’s have some conversations.

Now, onto the reason I’ve been so deeply preoccupied lately.

The Ki to the City podcast has successfully engaged and connected a wide-ranging global audience of listeners. Thus far, we’ve been exploring how the philosophical principles of Aikido and its sincere practice can actually work to make the world a better place, even through the most troublesome, atomizing times.

As I’ve scoured the internet for research—reading articles, posts, and old forum threads, looking for guests—I’ve had a sobering realization. A vast amount of the profound wisdom generated by our global Aikido community exists merely in ephemeral online formats.

It’s trapped in fleeting social media disagreements, buried in hard-to-find comment threads, or scattered across blogs that might very well forever vanish if, God forbid, the “grid” ever really goes down.

In this cybernetic dystopic spiral, digital discourse can be, and easily is, washed away in the vicious, swirling, scrolling “news cycle.”

Printed books offer a more tactile experience. They possess a tangible quality for which a blog post can posit no substitute. They can also serve as lasting artifacts for current and future generations to hold, study, and cherish.

That’s why I’m thrilled to announce the launch of an independent, Aikido-themed publishing house (more like an apartment) via this Ki to the City platform!

The hope is to expand the reach and longevity of Aikido’s positive societal effects beyond our digital screens. Maybe we could put down our phones for a few minutes.

There are so many brilliant, as-of-yet unheard voices in our sphere who might never otherwise be able to secure opportunities with traditional publishing companies. And furthermore, many people simply don’t realize that they don’t need to spend a ton of money to self-publish.

This is where my (semi) professional background comes in.

I’ve done some work as a freelance creative editor and ghostwriter, successfully guiding numerous authors through the self-publishing process.

Over the past few months, I’ve re-dedicated myself to conducting exhaustive, meticulous research into the print-on-demand (POD) self-publishing ecosystem.

It’s pretty boring, actually. But somehow I’m able to lock in and figure it out.

The result of this research is the creation of a high-efficiency, economical, ecological, independent publishing system that is specifically tailored to benefit both the author and the community.

This new publishing arm of Ki to the City is poised to produce high-quality pieces, ensuring the spirit of these essential voices is secured in a format worthy of their content.

I’m excited to share that I already have two—possibly three—projects currently in the works! Much more on that soon to come. I’m working hard to get these first editions formatted, edited, and ready for the world.

So, if you have a manuscript sitting in a drawer, a collection of unfinished docs, or even just the seed of an idea for a book about your Aikido journey, please reach out to me. And remember, if you want to be a guest on the podcast to talk about your practice, regardless of your rank or experience level, the door is always open.

Don’t be shy.

“Aikido was forged in the crucible of war. The Aikido we know bloomed in the era of peace.”

Is it possible to speak of “Post-War” Aikido anymore?

How long were we ever actually living, Post-War?

I want to keep this written intro brief. I have an aversion to trying to write eloquently about grave situations. Everything I could potentially say feels pretentious.

In a situation like this, it’s better to let the conversation speak for itself.

Miles Kessler Sensei teaches out of the Integral Dojo in Tel Aviv, Israel, and this conversation finds him literally in the crucible of war himself, as he speaks expecting sirens warning him to head to the nearest bomb shelter.

(To learn more about Miles Sensei’s incredible background, check out his first appearance. Link

It’s in this real-world context that his profound philosophy—Aikido not as a path of peace, but a path of conflict, with peace as the byproduct of good conflict done well—is called to action.

Miles Sensei’s most powerful application of Aikido off the mat is his frank discussion of trauma. He describes how trauma—whether personal, generational, or societal—causes us to retreat and polarize, locking us into patterns that perpetuate the past.

The ultimate work of the spiritual warrior is to purify this inherited and active trauma, allowing us to hold conflict in a way that becomes the catalyst for evolutionary development.

Miles Sensei challenges us to move beyond the easy binaries of “us versus them,” arguing that true spiritual progress requires us to wrestle with the moral dilemmas of the present moment. When nothing is reliable, the path of practice is the only constant.

He also reminds us that we are not doomed, that there may still be some adults in the room willing to meet the present conflict with a broader, deeper perspective, ready to move humanity forward with a practical, uncompromising spiritual framework for modern existence.

I’m excited to share this incredibly expansive discussion with Steve Macramalla, long-time student of Linda Holiday Sensei at Aikido of Santa Cruz.

(Regular listeners know what a positive influence Linda Holiday Sensei has had on myself and this project. Her ongoing commitment to transmitting heart-centered wisdom has been a major catalyst for the perseverance of this podcast.)

In addition to his Aikido pursuit, Steve is also a professor of Cognitive Psychology and teaches Chi’en-Lung Kung Fu at Six animals Kung Fu. This combination makes him the perfect conversational partner for attempting to tackle the whole “mind-body” question that I can never seem to satisfactorily answer for myself.

His book, Unleash the Dragon Within: Transform Your Life with the Kung-Fu Animals of Ch’ien-Lung, is ostensibly a guide to personal transformation through martial arts.

Drawing on over thirty years of training under his enigmatic Sifu, Constantine Darling, Steve outlines how we can practice the embodiment of six specific animal archetypes (discussed in detail during our chat) to deliberately shift our mental, emotional, and physical states to better navigate conflict and achieve psychological well-being.

The core of this episode, however, lies in unpacking Steve’s vast experience in the exploration of the aforementioned “mind-body” problem. This is the crossroad where the cognitive psychologist and the martial artist meet.

Whether you’re interested in the science of how we learn, preserving the lineage of Kumano Aikido, or finding out how to “unleash the dragon” in your own practice, this episode is, if I may be be so bold, mandatory listening.

Steve brings a sharp, academic precision to the proverbial table, but he delivers it with the warmth and humility of a dedicated Aikidoka. I really enjoyed this one, and I hope you will too!

Please consider supporting Ki to the City!

If you find value in these deep explorations of Aikido and philosophy, please consider supporting the podcast. Upgrade to a paid subscriber, or if you’d like to make a one-time contribution reach out to me directly at jondiluca@yahoo.com.

As a thank you, donors, and new paid subscribers will receive a copy of Don Dickie Sensei’s beautiful book of poetry, Silent Winds of Aikido—the perfect companion piece for spiritual, and martial inquiry.

One of the genuine benefits of (stubbornly) persisting with this project (despite the typical difficulties associated with the pursuit of wisdom vs monetary gain) is that when I hear a testimony so inspiring, so indicative of Aikido’s positive impact, it instantly assuages all doubt that I’m on the right path.

Scott Berg Sensei’s early life was beset with some pretty significant challenges, beginning with being born deaf. His hearing was eventually gained around his third birthday, following a successful (second) attempt at tympanostomy tube insertion.

This procedure, of which Scott Sensei was one of the earliest recipients, occurred after the natural developmental window for learning speech. As a result, he faced a severely delayed path in acquiring language.

He struggled substantially to communicate verbally, noting that he could not pronounce his own name in the seventh grade.

The severity of his difficulties led to a frightening (thankfully ignored) misdiagnosis when a psychiatrist at a children’s hospital suggested to his parents that he be institutionalized, because the doctor could not teach him to speak.

Compounding his struggles, he experienced relentless bullying in school, which fostered a deep sense of social isolation and otherness. This adversity forged a unique psychological coping mechanism: he became a master of seeing the world in the third person, observing his own life with a narrative distance.

This perspective cast him as an undeveloped character in his own story.

Scott Sensei credits finding Aikido as the pivotal moment which helped him bridge this gulf, as he finally found a setting where he felt secure enough to connect, and began to write himself into the “first person” narrative. (He notes the full-circle irony of how his current focus is on how it’s not all about “you”.)

Another aspect of his journey I find incredible is the breadth of his experience. Having trained in over 600 dojos (!), Scott Sensei has opened himself up to an almost incomprehensively vast array of lineage and culture, developing a perspective on Aikido that is both profoundly broad and remarkably deep.

Thanks to this incredible talk with Scott Sensei, I‘m thrilled to learn of another great teacher and transmitter of O Sensei’s Aikido I’d previously never heard of, Hiroshi Kato Sensei.

(I haven’t dug deep enough myself yet into Kato Sensei’s story to write anything of substance about him, but I do suggest you listen to this episode to hear Scott Sensei’s glowing affirmation of his Sensei’s relatively unheralded importance to the Aikido world.)

Scott Sensei is also a thoughtful writer. I’ve been deeply inspired by my recent discovery of his Substack. That’s how I found him. (See, sticking with Substack is paying off, after all!)

His ability to articulate the essential aiki-quest many of us find ourselves on with such eloquent brevity is amazing. His hard-earned voice is that rare combination of technical legitimacy and poetic vulnerability.

I should take note…

Recording this episode flew by. Which is how I know it was a good one. One of my personal favorites so far.

Don’t miss it!

And don’t forget to check out his dojo! Aikido of Alamo

This is an especially reflective time for Ki to the City, as we’re just days away from the first anniversary. (January 15th, if you’re curious)

I’d like to express my heartfelt gratitude for all the encouraging and insightful interactions so far. I feel like I’ve grown as a person through this endeavor and I hope it shows…

I sincerely hope to be able to continue and develop this project for a long time to come. Seriously. Thank you!

In the spirit of growth and reflection, please enjoy this illuminating conversation I had with Patrick Cassidy Sensei, an integral bridge-builder between the worlds of martial arts and self development.

Patrick sensei is dedicated to ensuring the modern relevance of Aikido as a profound tool for mastering fear, navigating real-world conflict, and achieving heightened awareness through the body.

He possesses impeccable traditional and somewhat eclectic experience; from his time as an uchi-deshi with the legendary Morihiro Saito Sensei in Iwama, to the self-exploratory, human-potential-movement-tinged, training methods of Robert Nadeau Sensei in California.

(There’s much more nuance to his incredible history, but I want you to listen to the episode, so I won’t give too much away here.)

As the director of the Evolutionary Aikido Community, Patrick Sensei highlights how Aikido practice can serve as a technology for awakening to, and reorganizing of, the entire field of interaction. In this more holistic context, conflict is viewed, not a threat to be avoided, but an evolutionary driver to be transformed.

Seen in this light, the Aikidoka can be described as an “alchemist,” entering directly into conflict itself and transmuting aggression into a higher order of connection and resolution.

At his dojo, Aikido Montreux (in Montreux, Switzerland) Patrick Sensei maintains a dedicated Uchi Deshi program. Carrying the traditional torch he picked up during his formative time in Iwama, this program offers total immersion that also includes yoga, breath work, meditation, cold water misogi in a nearby river, and (the best part) a sauna.

Reach out to him directly here, if that’s something you might be interested in learning more about.

A short little teaser/blurb cannot do this episode justice. I implore you to tune in to hear Patrick Sensei describe how it all comes together…

As we commemorate our first year, I need to humbly ask for your support to help keep this project on the “airwaves”. This podcast is a reader/listener-supported publication, and your contributions allow me to continue.

There are two ways you can help: you can sign up to be a paid subscriber on Substack, or, if you would like to make a one-time contribution, please email me directly at jondiluca@yahoo.com.

As a token of my gratitude, anyone who makes a contribution will receive a copy of Don Dickie Sensei’s deeply reflective volume of poetry, Silent Winds of Aikido.

Don Sensei has graciously donated 125 copies of this book to support this project, and it serves as a magnificent vehicle for active spiritual inquiry and attaining greater awareness. Get ‘em while you can!

Sharing these conversations is my way of contributing to something meaningful, worthwhile, and good in the world and doing my best to honor the world family O-Sensei envisioned. Your support ensures that we can continue to strive to learn from amazing people like Patrick Cassidy and keep our communities thriving.

I’m beyond thrilled to share this episode with you, as it marks the return of a truly exceptional teacher, artist, and now, published author under a major press.

Richard Moon Sensei is here to discuss his brand-new book, Quantum Aikido: The Power of Harmony, being released today, January 6th!

As many of you know from our first conversation, Moon Sensei possesses a background that is nothing short of cinematic.

Training for over 55 years (mostly under Robert Nadeau Shihan, one of the few ‘westerners’ to study directly with O Sensei), his story stretches far beyond the mat; from the early psychedelic days hanging with Ram Dass and Timothy Leary, all the way to international peace work, participating in a major mediation project between Greek and Turkish Cypriot leaders.

If you missed it, I highly suggest you check out this prior episode to hear more about his fascinating ‘origin story.’ [prior episode]

When I first heard the title, Quantum Aikido, I have to be honest—I was hesitant. I usually shy away from anything labeled “Quantum,” fearing it might be too scientistic for my taste. However, the way Moon Sensei relates these high-level physics concepts to the visceral experience of Aikido has completely shifted my perspective. At least in this particular case.

I finished reading the book the night before we spoke, and I can tell you personally, this is not a book you read once and put on the shelf. It’s dense with wisdom and written in a lurid, musical, prose that you need to sit with, digest, and revisit many many (many) times.

Moon Sensei applies insights of quantum mechanics—concepts like wave-particle duality and the unified field theory—to the heart-centered depths of Aikido principles including, but not limited to: musubi and takemusu aiki.

The book explores how the dualism of conflicting opposites is an illusion; instead, reality emanates from a unified field. The techniques we practice in the dojo are the “dust after the action.” The true study is what O-Sensei called the “realization of love” and the “Aikido that cannot be seen by the human eye.”

Moon Sensei’s gift is unlocking our potential as human beings. He suggests that by harmonizing the discord in our own ‘selves’, we can tap into energetic sources that guide us to resolving problems with spontaneous creativity.

I’m learning more and more how Aikido is not just about throwing people across the mat (although, that is so much fun); it’s the facilitation of an inter-dimensional shift in consciousness that transforms life from a struggle into a dance.

Moon Sensei teaches us to surf the universal waves of change rather than fighting against them, using a spirit of reconciliation to allow every being the completion of their “bestowed mission.”

Of course, we spent some time ruminating on the ‘Floating Bridge of Heaven,’ that mysterious immaterial zone of creation where complementary opposites seem to unite in a state of creative harmony, connecting to the single source from which everything emanates.

We also discuss how we can learn to “feel better”—not just in the sense of seeking pleasant sensations,, but also in the sense of increasing sensitivity to the energy of life, allowing us to act with greater intelligence and compassion.

I’m incredibly grateful to have connected with Richard Moon Sensei. His influence on my own life and practice over the past year has been nothing but positive. His way of “learning out loud” makes you feel like a fellow explorer on the edge of the known universe rather than just a thirsty student.

Whether discussing the “thalamic pause” (a conscious gap before reacting) or how a perfect musical interval can mirror a perfect Aikido blend, his insights have provided me with tools to stay centered amidst the abstract terrors of modern society.

Quantum Aikido, bridges ancient wisdom and the cutting-edge science of today. It’s a guide for anyone looking to cultivate a beautiful world through the art of peace and harmony.

Check it out here!

Quantum Aikido

As we roll through the holiday season, I’d like to take a quick moment to wish you all joy and felicity (I love that word).

2025 has been quite interesting, to say the least. Am I right?

This is an especially reflective time for me, specifically in regards to this podcast, as its one-year anniversary is coming up on January 15th.

I’m deeply grateful for the subscriber support, the vast insight gleaned from my guests, and the quality interactions I’ve been fortunate enough to engage in over the past year.

Aikido is (obviously) tremendously important to me, and I hope to be able to continue this project for as long as humanly possible, digging ever deeper and seeking new avenues to extend some more ki to the city.

On this episode, I had the pleasure of speaking with Tom Gardner Sensei, an integral long-time member and teacher at Bond Street Dojo.

Tom Sensei has been a profoundly positive influence for me personally during the decade since I first joined Bond Street. He’s essential to the dedicated lineage of instructors ensuring that Aikido remembers its mission and maintains its relevance.

Through four decades of diligent training at various world-renowned dojos, both in the U.S. and Japan, he’s refined a practice that balances astute technical savvy with an extraordinary exhibition of Aikido principles in action.

In every class Tom Sensei leads, without fail, I find myself learning something new, whether it’s a subtle nuance in a weapons kata or a timely tip on how to further strengthen the “mind-body connection”.

His approach to teaching is indicative of what makes Bond Street so special. Classes often feel like a collaborative workshop, where we test our ability to stay centered and calm under the intense pressures of conflict.

In this conversation, we delve into Tom’s tremendous wealth of experience training with a myriad of well-respected (and sometimes polarizing) teachers.

We also spend some time reflecting on the future viability of our beloved art.

I don’t want to give too much of his profound secret wisdom away, so, please, check out the episode…

By the way, there are still some limited copies of Don Dickie Sensei’s book, Silent Winds of Aikido, available.

Please don’t hesitate to reach out to me if you are interested in receiving a copy, and I’ll fill you in on all the details.

Happy New Year!

Kenneth Kron Sensei’s perspective on Aikido has been shaped by a truly remarkable lineage; he’s a long-time student of Robert Nadeau Shihan and Richard Moon Sensei.

To understand the depth Kenneth Sensei brings to his practice, one must first consider the well he’s drawn from.

Robert Nadeau Shihan is one of the few, fortunate, “westerners” to study directly with O-Sensei, bringing home a vision of Aikido which prioritizes the transformation of self and the shifting of dimensional awareness over physical combat. His influence on Aikido in America is enormous in importance.

Richard Moon has trained with Nadeau Sensei for over 55 years, yet maintains a humble approach to instruction, frequently stating that he doesn’t teach, but is instead learning out loud. He focuses heavily on the “Aikido that cannot be seen,” prioritizing the energetic pulse and the transformation of awareness over physical mechanics.

(If you’re new to this podcast and have not yet heard my previous interview with Richard Moon Sensei, I highly recommend it. Or, just wait a few weeks for when I speak to him about his upcoming book: Quantum Aikido.)

Kenneth Sensei has been instrumental in preserving and transmitting this lineal wisdom via the popular YouTube channel: Moon Sensei.

This channel acts as a vital digital dojo, archiving the “Centered Wisdom” that characterizes their unique exploration of the art.

It’s a repository for those who seek to understand how aiki operates as a socio-organizational technology—something that can be used to reconcile the discords of daily life.

Oh, and they got a Substack too! Quantum Aikido

Fair warning: our conversation gets pretty deep and personal.

Could be a consequence of recording on the winter solstice.

Speaking of, I want to take this moment to wish everyone reading/listening a very Happy Holiday.

I’m hoping to get one more episode out before the New Year, but I don’t have anyone booked as of yet. If you have any suggestions/volunteers, let me know…

Fret not, I got a full slate planned for January.

I’d like to take a brief moment to remind you of Don Dickie Sensei’s generous offer from a few weeks ago.

In support of the mission of this podcast, he’s graciously donated a limited number of copies of his deeply reflective volume of poetry, Silent Winds of Aikido.

This book is a magnificent vehicle for spiritual inquiry utilizing freeform verse.

If you are able to make a donation to help keep Ki to the City on “the airwaves,” we can arrange to get a copy (or a few) to you.

Please email me directly at jondiluca@yahoo.com to set something up.

Enjoy!

On this episode, I had the pleasure of being joined by a true inspiration and a good friend of mine (from real life), Phil Cappello.

We met when I was an uchi-deshi back in ‘08—and here we are, seventeen years later, as he put it, “Still training, still trying to figure some of this stuff out.”

Phil’s journey is remarkable, an extraordinary story in which the discovery of Aikido provided holistic relief from severe injury trauma and catalyzed his mission to transform how we approach the simple, yet potentially terrifying, act of falling.

At twenty years old, Phil survived an astounding fifty-foot fall off the roof of an apartment building. This life-changing event put him way past the statistical margin of survival; as I learned in this episode, falls over thirty feet are about 50% fatal.

This incident (obviously) instantly transformed his life.

The physical damage was immense: Phil emerged with seventeen broken bones, broken ribs (as in, all of them), a perforated lung, a damaged spleen, and catastrophic injury to his arm, resulting in his humerus, elbow, and shoulder being blown out, leading to paralysis in his elbow and wrist for years.

The medical advice he received was counterintuitive to his nature as a highly active Division 1 lacrosse player: he was told to protect the injury, and cautioned against exercise.

Yet, even the doctors admitted that his athleticism was likely what saved him from contracting pneumonia, highlighting the irony that the active life they were telling him to abandon was the source of his initial survival.

Despite the severity of his injuries, Phil possessed an inherent, deep-seated athletic drive, didn’t want to get pneumonia, and sought a way to maintain his conditioning. Driven by this necessity, he threw himself into rehabilitation, using a background in wrestling to inform his recovery.

In 2003, Phil discovered Aikido. He was quickly disabused of the notion that it was a “soft art” when he saw that much of the practice was acutely devoted to the very physical challenge that now terrified him most: falling.

He was faced with the immediate psychological pressure of grappling with an experience that had nearly killed him, yet he quickly realized that Aikido offered something revolutionary, providing more than a physical redemption arc. Aikido offered a healing modality unmatched by anything else.

Through practicing throws and falls in the dojo, he was able to confront and overcome the (totally) understandable fear of falling that threatened to stifle his natural proclivity for action.

This realization was revelatory: he was able to do what he’d always loved—wrestling and grappling—but in a “totally different” context where violence was not the objective.

Phil’s experience has led him to dedicate his current work to sharing the unique value of Aikido’s distinct ukemi practice with the wider world.

He is now the driving force behind the innovative program he calls “Ukemi: The art of falling.” Check out the website here: https://thefallingexpert.com/

His goal is to translate a core skill of Aikido—the ability to fall safely and rise again—into a system accessible to the general public.

This mission is directly inspired by his own family, noting that for elderly people, falling is a real concern and a worry. Phil realized that most people might not need to know how to perform Ikkyo, but everyone could stand to learn how to more safely engage with the dynamics of a fall.

Phil has adapted the methodology of traditional martial arts masters, such as Jigoro Kano, structuring his curriculum around training a practitioner in forty foundational falls over a period of five years, consciously emulating the highly successful educational model of Judo.

This program serves a wide range of individuals, from senior citizens in need of basic fall prevention to competitive martial artists who want to get more comfortable with the standing phase of grappling.

Ultimately, Phil’s work epitomizes the principle of giving back, stemming from the self-mastery he achieved through dedicated training. He took the profound, life-saving lessons learned on the tatami and formalized them into a vital service, ensuring that the peaceful and protective dimension of the art is accessible to a much larger segment of the population.

This, to me, is the ultimate expression of the spirit of Aikido, turning personal trauma into a universal therapeutic offering—a true art of peace and harmony in action.

I first had Don Dickie Sensei as a guest back in April, and he blew my mind with his vivid, coherent, and powerful description of meditation, inspiring me to finally pursue my own inner practice in earnest.

(Brief update on how that practice is going: I’ve so far cobbled together aspects of what I’m learning from Don Sensei, Linda Holiday Sensei, and Koichi Barrish Sensei, with some leftover vestiges of previous “astral travel” experiments. Overall, I’m feeling pretty connected to the universe.)

Don Sensei’s impressive background includes intensive studies in kinesiology, cognitive psychology, and Tibetan Buddhism. This unique perspectival expertise provides him a multifocal lens through which to examine the connections between movements, mental states, and spiritual aspirations.

His understanding of the mind-body connection is phenomenal.

He’s also the author of several illuminating books you can find at this link: dondickie.com

As someone who has attempted to juggle a fusion of creative writing and Aikido practice—while seeking to explore the dynamic flow of both—I’m thrilled to delve into an author’s work that consciously harnesses this synergy.

On this special episode, Don Sensei reads selected pieces from his deeply reflective volume of poetry, Silent Winds of Aikido.

This inspirational collection of poems is a vehicle for active spiritual inquiry, an eloquent path towards attaining greater awareness.

I’m in awe of how viscerally he’s able to describe both the inner and outer worlds we inhabit in our practice—the action and the stillness, simultaneously.

For instance, in the poem titled “Awareness,” this elusive concept is defined beautifully through metaphor, highlighting its subtle, pervasive quality:

It’s a soft thing, not hard or sharp. More a blanket enveloping without constraint. No matter how comfortable, other things demand our attention… An attack comes silently, unaware, unprepared. You are hit.

The lack of a soft, all-encompassing awareness ultimately leads to getting caught up in trifling conflict, describing the literal and figurative “Story of Randori.”

Don Sensei emphasizes that the practice of overall awareness is not an end unto itself; it’s the catalyst for refining our intuition, an inner guidance granted divine provenance by O Sensei. This development is a crucial step on the way to fulfilling Aikido’s true stated goal: making the world a better place.

But beyond the literary and metaphysical, we also, importantly, discussed Don Sensei’s extremely generous offer to help support this podcast.

He’s graciously donated a limited number (125 copies) of Silent Winds of Aikido.

They’re available to listeners who’d like to make a (badly needed) donation to help keep this project going.

If you’d like to receive a copy (or multiple copies—think New Year’s gift for your dojo), please email me directly at jondiluca@yahoo.com for more details.

I’m extremely grateful for this gesture. Don Sensei has been a great friend and supporter of this project since the very beginning.

His faith in my mission means the world to me, and I’d love to introduce his writing to those who are otherwise unaware of his profound wisdom.

So please, reach out to me if you’re interested in receiving a copy. Even if you’re unable to make a monetary contribution at this time, sharing this episode on social media (or something like that) would go a long way.

The goal is to share the message.

Peace

I had the immense pleasure of speaking with yet another board member of Aiki Extensions, Susan Dutton Sensei, Chief Instructor at Aiseishinkan dojo in Green Bay, Wisconsin.

If there’s one theme that’s continually revealed itself throughout this podcast’s first year of taking shape, it’s the phenomenal potential of Aikido to transcend boundaries beyond physical training.

Susan Dutton Sensei’s fascinating background, expertise, and dedication to applying Aikido principles make her work wonderfully unique and highly impactful, particularly in the realm of emotional and psychological well-being.

Eq-do (her own brilliant portmanteau) is the term she’s coined for her coaching practice, bridging the philosophical depth of Aikido with contemporary somatic/psychological science and applying these integrated principles to facilitate healing.

According to Susan Sensei, a fundamental insight of EQ-do is that by using the physical body to teach emotional concepts, they stick at a much deeper level than purely cognitive information.

A great example she uses is teaching emotional distancing by demonstrating that once students learn to take hanmi and feel their power to not be affected by a gentle push, they realize they are responsible for their own balance, not the actions of another.

Susan Sensei’s practice is many-layered, drawing on principles that go beyond simple technique, incorporating mental and spiritual intention:

One particularly fascinating facet of her work involves the practice and teaching of TRE (Tension and Trauma Releasing Exercises), a sequence of exercises designed to facilitate the release of deep tension through body tremors. These neurogenic tremors are a natural way to reset the body when the nervous system is locked in fight or flight mode, thereby freeing the mind to access higher wisdom.

It’s really incredible stuff.

Pretty much blew my mind.

But I don’t want to give too much away…

Because I want you to listen to the episode!

Don’t forget to check out all the amazing things going on at Aiki Extensions.

They’re genuinely trying to make the world a better place. I cherish every conversation I’ve had with them so far and hope to do my part to spread the word far and wide.

Exploring the transformative potential of Aikido through this project has led me down some unexpected, yet highly rewarding, paths.

Connecting with (and receiving wisdom from) truly visionary people like Richard Sims has positively influenced my own practice substantially.

Our conversation sits right at the heart of everything this podcast aims to explore: the intersection of philosophy and tangible, interpersonal impact.

Richard serves as a dedicated board member of Aiki Extensions, which shows right off the bat how devoted he is to extending the principles and practices of Aikido beyond the physical dojo space, pursuing a broad societal benefit.

As you may have noticed by my recent guest list, Somatics has become a keen interest of mine as of late.

Richard is instrumental in the field, serving as the president of the board of ISMETA (the International Somatic Movement Education and Therapy Association).

He defines somatics as the “in-depth study of the self from your lived experience, emphasizing the intentional, coordinated awareness and use of the body, mind, and spirit for the betterment of the individual and their community.”

We explore in depth the role that this heightened awareness could play in enhancing Aikido practice.

We also discuss how the integration of Aiki principles and somatic awareness is culminating in an exciting project being currently undertaken by Aiki Extensions:

A trauma handbook that Richard is co-authoring alongside fellow board members, Jamie Zimron and Susan Dutton, all of whom possess expertise in both Aikido and trauma work.

This handbook is expected to roll out early next year. I will cover it extensively here, so stay tuned for that.

I feel incredibly fortunate to be connected to this AE community. I’ve interviewed several AE board members so far, and every talk has led me to want to get involved deeper into the ultra-important work they are doing.

Their sincere dedication to global peace and human betterment through the principles of Aikido constantly renews my own faith.

I look forward to continuous learning about how we can all use the principles of Aikido to make the world a better place.

To learn more about Richard Sims, please check out his website here: Richardesims.com

“Ki to the City” was originally conceived as a way to address the seemingly shaky future of Aikido (specifically, in my own life). In this episode, I’m honored to speak with someone who is not just thinking about the problem aloud but providing concrete, actionable, and expert solutions.

My guest has built a platform (and an app) that achieves what I’ve only vaguely dreamed of: addressing the critical need for a more effective branding of Aikido.

Sasa Starovojtov (from Dokiai Dojo in Ljubljana, Slovenia) is a compelling voice challenging the status quo with equal parts compassion and commercial acumen. His dojo’s name perfectly encapsulates his mission: to offer “another way to look at Aikido.”

Sasa’s path to the mat is as unique as his current contribution. He discovered the art purely by chance, walking past a sign in Prague.

He instantly connected with Aikido’s non-competitive spirit, finding it a soothing balm to the “scorekeeping” mindset that had ruined games for him since childhood.

Over 25 years later, this commitment to non-conflict is a defining feature of his life; as he shared, since joining the dojo, he’s never had to fight—physically or verbally.

Before founding his dojo, Sasa had already carved out a long and successful professional career in marketing, rising to roles like Sales and Marketing Director for a software company and working for world-famous agencies like Leo Burnett. This eclectic background—martial artist and seasoned branding expert—is what makes his perspective on the art of Aikido so vital.

Sasa’s Substack, Aikicraft.org, and his revolutionary new app, Brandician.ai, in my own humble opinion, are essential tools for anyone struggling with how to keep Aikido relevant in their own communities. I implore you to click those links…

He points to real-world data suggesting Aikido could be on a “path to extinction,” while Aikidoka are mostly “marketing to ourselves,” failing to explain the art’s true value to people who’ve never stepped on a mat.

Aikicraft.org is Sasa’s offered antidote, a valuable resource for Dojo Cho who are, like he was himself, left with little practical guidance on how to run, grow, or market a dojo.

Aikicraft is divided into four critical sections: Why we train, The hard look (a necessary criticism of institutional problems), Teach better (advocating for the use of modern sports science), and Applied Aikido (his “Marketing-Do” series).

This work has culminated in Brandician.ai, a powerful web app created with his partners that he’s currently offering for free to the Aikido community.

As he explains on the podcast, a professional branding package for could cost anywhere from $10,000 to $40,000. His ingenious app guides the user through an in-depth process starting with a founder interview, generates a questionnaire to survey customers, and ultimately creates a Brand Hub—a comprehensive guide covering brand strategy, visual identity, and tone of voice, rooted in the art of storytelling.

Sasa’s work is firmly planted in the Jobs to be Done (JTBD) theory from the branding world: many people are not interested in buying “traditional martial arts”—they are hiring us to do a job for them. That job could be to achieve more mindfulness, to be a better parent, or to be comfortable speaking in front of a group of people. Sasha contends that by framing the practice in this way, we can ensure its survival.

To Sasa, marketing is Aikido—a process of harmonization. You can’t fight the market; you must take ukemi and move with it. This dimensional shift in consciousness could be what’s required for the art to once again flourish.

(Until/unless I can find some sponsors ;) Ki to the City remains a reader-supported publication. If you have benefited from this project, please consider signing up to be a paid subscriber to help keep the podcast on “the airwaves.”

If you would prefer to make a one-time contribution, you can email me directly at jondiluca@yahoo.com.

As a token of my gratitude, and Don Dickie Sensei’s generosity, you will receive a complimentary copy of his deeply reflective volume of poetry, Silent Winds of Aikido.

Thank you!!!

On this episode,

My talk with Liam Robertson, musician and aikidoka (Aikido of Petaluma), moved pretty deftly (if I do say so myself) into an exploration of the profound philosophical and physical resonances between these two harmonic arts.

We got into a sound discussion (get it?) on the many parallels between Aikido and music, ultimately recognizing them both as empowering disciplines that refine our natural emotional expressions, offering the opportunity, through harmonic shifts, to move beyond “ego.”

A further focus on authentic, present expression led us into the realm of somatics, specifically Liam’s understanding that the body is your first instrument.

Strozzi-Heckler Sensei, defines somatics as the art and study of the soma, viewing the body as a “living wholeness” where mind, body, and spirit are integrated.

Liam applies this principle directly in his music teaching, asserting that the body is the primary instrument for self-expression, preceding the voice. This approach requires the practitioner to witness what is occurring in the body, paying attention to posture and presence, etc.

Sounds like Aikido...

We also contemplated the critical role of competition in shaping both arts, particularly the revolutionary non-competitive stance of Aikido.

In our modern, atomized, and hyper-competitive world, the Aikido dojo offers a necessary sanctuary for people seeking more harmony in their lives.

As in playing music with a joyful devotion, when practice is collaborative, it allows us to transcend the illusory quality of separation and division.

Don’t miss this one!

On this episode of “Ki to the City,” we dive into one of our most candid and courageous conversations yet, featuring Matt Gano, a long-time student of Koichi Barrish Sensei.

Despite engaging in some profoundly insightful conversations with Barrish Sensei, and having the honor of attending (online) his Chouhai morning prayer sessions on the weekends, I’ve yet to have the fortune of ever directly training with him.

Matt gives us a panoramic view of what it was like to discover Aikido by chancing upon the dojo of this amazing Sensei and wonderful human being.

Matt’s journey into Aikido began, as many do, with a search for self-defense, but has evolved into something much deeper: a search for awareness. He’s come to the understanding that we are all expressions of nature, and our practice is the dedicated process of refining that awareness and expression.

We ruminate on the numerous allusions O Sensei made to Aikido being expressed most clearly in nature, which led to a long, but highly infotaining (I promise) digression into the behavioral intelligence of crows and ravens and our own personal experiences trying to befriend members of the corvid family.

Matt views his struggles with Obsessive-Compulsive Disorder and social anxiety through the lens of training, considering difficult experiences like appearing on this podcast as a form of practice – shugyo in daily life.

His unique insights provide another timely reminder that Aikido is far more than just a set of physical techniques; it’s a therapeutic exercise and a vital source of strength for navigating the complexities of modern life.

I could write much more about the deep, frank, open, lively, joyful conversation we had, but I want you to listen to the episode!

If you’d like to read some of Matt’s impressions on Aikido and life, please visit Aikiweb.com, where you can find his writing.

(I tried to post the link, but as we talk about in the episode, I always have trouble accessing Aikiweb. My computer told me to “delete my cookies”. I don’t even know what that means. Sorry.)

How does embracing our body’s non-cognitive intelligence offer us infinite pathways to creativity and conflict resolution that our overthinking minds cannot?

This week, I had a vivifying conversation in which we traverse that very question.

I had the immense pleasure of speaking with Dr. Elisabet Lahti, a brilliant researcher and educator from Helsinki, Finland.

Dr Lahti is world-renowned for studying and celebrating the ancient Finnish concept of Sisu, which she describes as Somatic Resilience: the universal human capacity to endure under pressure and take action against slim odds, unearthing courage from deep within.

Sisulab is her fantastic website and podcast, which I sincerely suggest you check out to learn more about the profound work she’s doing.

Dr Lahti’s journey into understanding this deep inner strength is powerfully, deeply personal. Her own experience drove her probing research: How do humans find a way to overcome extreme difficulty? What is Sisu beyond concept?

She pushed her limits, running 1,500 miles across the entire length of New Zealand to research Sisu viscerally while simultaneously supporting a campaign to end domestic violence.

Intense effort led to a massive realization: the old idea of “mind over matter” wasn’t the path to true strength. This discovery led to the foundation of her groundbreaking concept: Gentle Power.

Dr Lahti describes Gentle Power as the high octave version of Sisu. It’s the way to use the primordial human life force in a conscious manner. She emphasizes that being relaxed is vital; being relaxed doesn’t mean that you’re powerless.

Gentle Power is the yin and the yang, the hard and soft qualities in harmony.

Gentle Power is strength that is unforced, tender, and tempered, combining fierce resolve with softness and discernment. When describing its effect, she states that Gentle Power doesn’t grasp, doesn’t impose, doesn’t demand, doesn’t pretend, and yet, it expresses, states, and excels, allowing you to use your vital life force (Ki) without burning out.

One huge takeaway from our talk, for me, was the reminder that cognitive reality is not the only reality. I notice that in most of these talks, this resolution of the schism between “mind” and “body” is often discussed.

I’m learning so much.

Dr Lahti shares how her background in social psychology had conditioned her to view human behavior and strength as something primarily mental. But her own research helped her realize that Sisu is more somatic than cognitive.

She notes that as we grow up and enter society, we are often robbed of our natural way of moving through the world, forcing most things to seem to happen only in the cognitive realm, almost like we are constrained by a “cognitive broadband.”

This is limiting, to say the least.

She views Aikido as the necessary “yin side” to balance sheer determination, constantly giving the impetus to relax more. This helps develop the intelligence of the body and teaches us how to harmonize and blend to dissolve conflict of energy.

Borrowing a phrase from past guest, Richard Moon, we were really just “learning out loud” together.

Hope you enjoy the episode!

On this episode of Ki to the City, I was joined by Scott Engler of Two Rock Aikido, a long-time student of Richard Strozzi-Heckler Sensei.

Scott’s journey represents a remarkable path of integrating intellectual pursuits with physical and somatic disciplines. His story moves from the rarefied air of academia and the stark environment of corporate technology to the Aikido dojo and, eventually, to becoming a professional practitioner of Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy.

Check out his website here: Heart of Stillness

(And his Instagram is replete with informative and inspirational content)

In his own words, Scott began his adult life as a highly academic person, focusing his university studies on ancient Greek and Latin, becoming deeply fascinated with the ancient world.

Interestingly, at the same time he was entrenched in those studies, he was competitively engaged in saber fencing, a Western martial art. He recalls that fencing generated a profound sense of aliveness—a feeling he describes in detail—a feeling much the same as what he experiences in the dojo.

Scott later transitioned into the burgeoning world of computers, working for large software companies. However, the sedentary reality of “sitting in cubicles” proved physically taxing, eventually leading to breakdowns in his neck and back, compelling him to seek solutions like chiropractic care and massage.

This crucial period marked his recognition that body awareness and touch needed to be integrated into his life in profound new ways.

The catalyst for his full commitment came at the end of 1991 when a friend introduced him to Strozzi-Heckler Sensei’s influential book, In Search of the Warrior Spirit.

Scott found the book to be a huge, personal revelation, speaking directly to his inner struggles, particularly the conflict between a deeply rooted pacifist side and a martial side, and questioning how to handle confrontations or bullies. This synchronicity deepened when he realized Richard Sensei lived nearby, leading him to the dojo in February 1992. At this pivotal moment, during a painful personal transition, when the ground was shaking beneath him, he found in Aikido and in Richard Sensei a guide to what would become his life’s work.

A central theme of Scott’s training is Somatics, defined for as the art and study of the soma—an ancient Greek word for body. Scott elaborates that Somatics views the whole person—heart, mind, soul, spirit, and physicality—as interconnected. He explains that Aikido is inherently a somatic art, along with all martial arts, provided they are approached as a means to expand beyond mere technique and encompass the entire self and one’s conscious creations. This holistic approach is seen as a therapy for the schism or disconnect often fostered by Cartesian dualism in Western thought, offering a path to a more unified, aware way of being.

Scott’s current professional practice, Biodynamic Craniosacral Therapy (BCST), flows directly from his somatic foundation. BCST originated from cranial osteopathy and is distinguished by its focus on the body’s inherent, subtle processes rather than just the biomechanics of tissues, tendons, and bones. In BCST, Scott places his attention on the unified fluid field within the body, listening intently to the slow, deep rhythm described as the “primary respiration” or the “long tide”. This practice is fundamentally concerned with supporting the body’s innate healing capacity, offering a less mechanical route than other forms of bodywork.

He made the deliberate decision to transition to this work full-time in January 2007, recognizing the necessity of cultivating his practice over a “long horizon view”.

Our conversation bridges Scott’s deeply physical and therapeutic work back to his intellectual roots in ancient Greek and Latin, in the oldest literature: the epic poems Iliad and Odyssey.

These are essentially warrior stories, but when studied deeply, they reveal clues about the universal human condition, mortality, and the complex questioning of violence.

Together, we muse on the relationship between this ancient, martial-themed literary tradition and the modern martial path of Aikido—comparing the feeling of wrestling with the nature of a life defined by cubicle work, political cataclysms, and economic necessity, with the more acute fatalistic stresses of “battle”.

Ultimately, Scott’s story embodies the somatic ideal: turning life’s conflicts and ruptures into generative actions, cultivating a path toward a more “vivid peace,” through the expansion of awareness and the continuous practice of being truly alive.

On this episode of Ki to the City, I sat down with my good friend and fellow Bond Street Dojo instructor, Nico Puertollano, for a candid, yet casual conversation about almost everything under the Aikido umbrella.

We dove straight into the deep end, questioning the very relevancy of Aikido in the modern world. If it doesn’t feel relevant, then what’s the point?

That led us to discuss the perpetually challenging state of our home dojo, Bond Street—the perils of toughing it out in NYC.

This is one of the more down-to-earth episodes I’ve done.

Since Nico and I train together on a regular basis, we naturally drifted into talking about some of the more technical and physical aspects of practice than I usually do on this show.

How important are front rolls? How does it shift your perception of training if you view the techniques as “Kata”? What’s the function of Uke?

I’m not going to spoil the answers for you, mainly because there are no definitive answers to these questions, but if you’re interested in our 4 cents’ worth, please check out the episode.

Here are Nico’s Links:

I’m not really an Instagram person, but Nico has a really cool IG account: AikiGram

And look! He’s also on Substack: Nico’s Substack

I have to give you a quick peek behind the “Ki to City” curtain for a minute.

I usually cap the episodes at an hour and ten minutes because my mic/headphone set-up is less than ideal, so I have to export the audio into Garageband to polish up the sound quality.

This episode went a little longer than that, so I had to clip the last 15 minutes and include it here. Nico makes some very profound points, so please check it out.

I truly love having and sharing these conversations, making aiki ripples, and connecting with the community. If you so happen to be in the position to become a paid subscriber, it would make a huge difference in ensuring that I can continue this project for the foreseeable future.

Also, I’ve also started an alternate Substack for my writing that’s not so Aikido-focused. If you’re interested in that you can find it here: Optimystic

Thank you

Jon

It’s a true honor and absolute privilege to present this episode of Ki to the City, featuring my conversation with one of the most vital figures in contemporary Aikido.

Linda Holiday Sensei is the founder of Aikido of Santa Cruz and the esteemed author of Journey to the Heart of Aikido: The Teachings of Motomichi Anno Sensei.

In addition to being an authentic, accomplished martial artist and writer, Holiday Sensei is a cultural intermediary. Her academic background, which includes a Master’s degree in East Asian Studies from Stanford University, positions her as an exceptionally reliable and significant conduit for understanding / transmitting the teachings of O-Sensei and the many other influential Sensei she’s met along the way.

Her critically acclaimed book is instrumental in articulating the spiritual depth inherent in the art. It vividly describes her personal experience training closely with O-Sensei’s direct students in the mystical Kumano region of Japan, the life and trajectory of her primary teacher, Motomichi Anno Sensei, and important aspects of the founder’s path, ultimately inviting the reader into a deep study of Aikido as O-Sensei originally articulated it.

This monumental work also serves as an act of cultural preservation, faithfully capturing the wisdom of Anno Sensei, one of the last remaining direct students of O Sensei—shining a bright light on the heart of Aikido.

I highly recommend reading it, if you haven’t already. Here’s the link: Journey to the Heart of Aikido

Holiday Sensei’s own work in founding Aikido of Santa Cruz as a non-profit educational organization, her international travels to teach (and learn from) others, and her online misogi sessions (see below), align magnificently with the founder’s aspiration to unite humanity through harmony and build a world family.

I don’t want to give away too many spoilers, because I don’t want you to miss out on listening to the episode with a pair of fresh ears. (Is that even a saying, “fresh ears”?)

But I do want to mention that I’m invigorated and encouraged by our chat and also now very much looking forward to participating in Holiday Sensei’s aforementioned (just one paragraph up) online misogi sessions, which you can join here: Misogi link.

These virtual classes (Mon. and Wed. at 8AM PST) are an open invitation to experience misogi, chinkon kishin, chanting practices, and inspiring discussions drawn from O Sensei’s philosophy.

Hope to see you there.

On this episode of Ki to the City, I had the distinct honor of being joined by Robert Kent, President of Aiki Extensions.

Robert Sensei received Ben & Jerry’s 2008 “Peace Pioneer” prize and the Small Business Council of America’s “Humanitarian of the Year” award in 2016.

I’m incredibly proud to share this conversation with you.

The work being spearheaded by Aiki Extensions is profoundly important, shining as a beacon for global peace, conflict resolution, and betterment in this increasingly (to put it mildly) challenging human society.

Established in 1998 by the late Professor Don Levine Sensei, Aiki Extensions Inc. is a US-based 501(c)(3) nonprofit educational hub rooted in O Sensei’s core philosophy, particularly the application of “Aikido as medicine for a sick world.”

Kent Sensei, serving as its President since 2009, embodies the very mission of applying Aiki principles far beyond the cozy confines of the dojo. His deep commitment to Aikido is complemented by rigorous intellectual training: he holds a BA in Religion & Philosophy from Williams College and an MA in Ethics from Claremont Graduate School.

This intersection of expertise—martial arts, ethics, and philosophy—provides him with profound three-pronged credibility. It allows him to discuss the application of Aiki principles in complex, abstract domains like ethics, leadership, and international conflict with practical insight and embodied wisdom.

One of the most fascinating themes we explored was the physiological transformation that Aikido facilitates.

Kent Sensei is preparing to teach a course at Williams College, “Forging Character, Aikido and Cultivating Your Best Possible Self,” which posits that character is the result of better decisions and actions taken over time.

He explains how Aikido training can effectively retrain the amygdala. (The amygdala is the trigger for the high-stress, shortcut decision-making system we’re born with, which typically defaults to fight, flight, freeze, fawn, or “freak out” responses.)

By training physically in Aikido, the nervous system is retrained to offer compassionate, calm, centered, and blending responses. This new response eventually becomes the default under stress, leading to better decisions, actions, habits, and ultimately, better character. This concept is crucial, demonstrating how Aikido training helps us cultivate our best possible selves.

The importance of Aiki Extensions, particularly concerning their dedication to global peace-building programs, cannot be overstated.

One of the jewels in their portfolio is the Peace Camp Initiative (PCI), which Kent Sensei founded as a direct outgrowth of his background in teen counseling and conflict resolution. PCI functions as a scholarship fund, bringing Palestinian and Jewish youth leaders to a sports camp in upstate Pennsylvania each summer. The explicit goal is to forge bonds of friendship and trust for the next generation of leaders in the Middle East to achieve peace.

By requiring participants to engage in shared physical practice, the program facilitates the embodied connection necessary for genuine rapport, bypassing cultural and linguistic barriers more effectively than traditional political exchanges. This initiative, co-directed by Robert Kent and longtime AE board member (previous guest) Jamie Leno Zimron, has provided this valuable experience for many campers over the years. (AE looks forward to when they can resume sending campers.)

We also discussed Aiki Extensions’ innovative approach to societal contribution through direct therapeutic support. AE is actively developing a trauma handbook, expected to be rolled out next spring. This handbook of exercises and explanations is designed as a therapeutic tool for trauma work, enabling dojo leaders to partner with local licensed community therapists.

This collaboration utilizes the dojo leader’s physical expertise and Aikido tools (focused on reconnecting with the body, improving movement pathways, and re-framing events) alongside professional therapeutic guidance, addressing various forms of trauma such as combat-related PTSD or unhealthy family dynamics. The vision here is to equip dojo-cho with additional tools, providing them with more ways to make a living while sharing the healing benefits of Aikido.

I’m really looking forward to that.

Aiki Extensions also serves as a crucial connective hub, supporting a wider network of like-minded initiatives globally. This support is largely channeled through the Seed & Support Grant Program, which offers modest funding typically ranging from $500 to $1000. This decentralized, grassroots funding model is deliberate, allowing AE to maximize its global reach and catalyze diverse projects from local practitioners.

Examples of the projects that AE supports demonstrate the breadth of its impact outside the traditional dojo:

* Aikido With Veterans: Projects aimed at reducing PTSD symptoms and building healthy lifestyles.

* Anti-bullying and ‘Aiki Kindness’ projects piloted in schools.

* Community-focused initiatives, such as low-cost Aikido programs for kids and parents.

* International efforts like Training Across Borders, which brings together people from conflicting nations, and projects supporting Aikido Ethiopia.

* Support for related endeavors, including the International Aiki Peace Week and organizations dedicated to preserving Aikido history, such as Josh Gold’s work at Aikido Journal and Budo Accelerator.

* This podcast :)

It is my sincere hope that this episode sheds light on how organizations like Aiki Extensions, under the thoughtful guidance of Robert Kent Sensei, are actively transforming the philosophical ideals of Aikido into tangible global action. The philosophical commitment of Aiki Extensions aligns perfectly with my own goal of bringing more Ki to the City

Tune in to hear how Aiki Extensions is supporting the movement for global peace and providing essential resources for trauma recovery, demonstrating that Aikido truly offers “vital ‘medicine’ of humane values” for an increasingly stressful world.

I encourage listeners to explore the work of Aiki Extensions and consider how their personal Aikido journey can contribute to these crucial ripples of peace.

For more information about Robert Kent Sensei and incredible peace-building programs and grant opportunities, please check out the following links:

* www.politicalaikido.org (Robert Sensei’s article)

* www.abilityproduction.org (Molly & Jeremy Hale’s website. Listen to the episode for Molly’s inspiring story)

* aikiextensions.org - the AE website

* peacecampinitiative.org - the PCI website

* Seed Grants: https://www.aikiextensions.org/seed-grants

* YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@AikiExtensions

* Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/aikiextensions

* Budo Accelerator (Josh Gold’s program) - https://www.budoaccelerator.org/about-us

Enjoy!

I don’t know if you remember, but a few weeks ago I said I wanted to focus more attention on Aikido, on my guests—and less on my “self.”

To that end, I decided to channel my more experimental and personal literary ambitions into a forthcoming book (tentatively titled Non Prophet Bourgeois Samurai).

This Substack, after all, is called “Ki to the City,” right? It should be about promoting Aikido, not getting hijacked and subsumed by exercises in lyric essay exposition.

The Aikido aspect of my life is going pretty well (thanks for asking). The energy in the dojo has picked up quite a bit. It’s Fall now, and people always point to the summer for lulls in attendance. We’ve gotten a few new members recently who seem keen on sticking around. The training has been invigorating.

Ikeda Sensei is coming this weekend. I’m always blown away by his seemingly otherworldly abilities. During his seminars, I honestly do try to move my partners with my mind. So far, I’ve been unable to do it, but he clearly demonstrates that it’s possible, so I gotta keep trying.

Regarding the podcast: I’m really excited about forthcoming episodes. I’ve got some great guests lined up. I’m not going to spoil who they are, but stay tuned, and I think you’ll be pleased with the discourse.

When I started this project, I didn’t realize that I would actually be able to get anyone to come on. Maybe you can tell by now, I feel like I have little in common with other people. But what we do have in common is very special to me.

Aikido is very special to me, the bonds… It’s funny because my dojo is called “Bond Street,” though we’re not on Bond Street anymore.

Sometimes I think we should change the name to reflect our community better, you know, “Harlem Aikido” or “Harlem Budo Center” (something like that). Maybe we’d get more locals because they’d feel like we’re part of the neighborhood.

But I like the symbolism of Bond Street. It is a street dojo. We’re on a very noisy, dirty, crowded New York City street. All through class we hear music and sirens blaring through the windows.

I’m almost reminded of a quote relayed to me by a good friend years ago…

I say, “almost reminded” because I don’t remember it verbatim and I can’t find it on the internet. Maybe he made it up himself? Here’s my paraphrased version:

“It’s easy to meditate in a quiet temple; not so easy in a crowded marketplace.”

Our dojo is not in a “nice” neighborhood—I’m saying that as someone who grew up in “not-nice” neighborhoods. I don’t mean it in a pejorative sense. Though some people might be scared off by the location, I’m proud of it. I’m proud that we have a dojo right smack dab in the middle of the mayhem. We’re bonded by the street we train on.

You might be wondering how my book is coming along…

I’ve gotten over 50,000 words written. It’s like a 50,000-piece puzzle. Okay, maybe not. Maybe it’s more like a hundred piece puzzle because I can usually manage to keep “on topic” for at least 500 words in a row.

Maybe it’s because I’m from New York, or maybe it’s my milieu, the time I grew up in, my conversational wavelength. I change the subject often, I know that. This might hamper me as a writer (unless I finally just accept that I can only write ‘lyric essays’).

Here are the working names of some of the “chapters”, just so you can get an idea of the psyche I’m contending with over here:

Guru Phobic

Starlight Refined

Rare Nocturnal Talking Centipede

Maybe Now is a Good Time to Talk About the Genie

Are Delusions Flammable?

Raw Fool

Alliterate Guinea

Optimystic (with a “why”), get it?

I’ll have you know that I’m trying to write as normally as possible. I’m trying. I’m aiming for the ‘mainstream.’ I don’t want to be ‘avant-garde.’

I’m not trying to be hoity-toity. I still watch sports. I still watch detective shows, and wrestling (don’t tell anyone.) But here I am, writing lyric essays.

I mean, how pretentious is that?

At least the Aikido is going well.

On this special edition of Ki to the City, we present a unique “swapcast” featuring an insightful conversation with a dedicated Aikidoka, Jeannys Nnembeng, who is driving a critical new initiative to ensure the future health and inclusivity of Aikido.

Jeannys, a fellow member of Bond Street Dojo and Aikido Schools of Ueshiba (ASU), joins us to discuss her journey and this major project she is leading.

(We structured this conversation as a “swapcast”—first, I interviewed Jeannys for Ki to the City; then, we switched roles to record my story for her exciting new initiative)

Jeannys is heading a vital social engagement project for ASU, focused on promoting inclusion and diversity across the Aikido community. This project, titled “Aikido: Your Story,” aims to attract the next generation of Aikidoka by making the practice feel accessible and representative.

She notes that while Aikido is a beautiful martial art, its non-competitive nature doesn’t always attract a younger demographic. To counter this, her team is leveraging social media to build a lasting resource. This database of interviews will showcase the stories of diverse Aikidoka, covering challenges faced and tips for newcomers.

The objective is simple yet profound: representation matters. If potential students can look at this resource and see demographics that look like them, they might feel motivated to try Aikido.

Jeannys’s commitment stems from her philosophical grounding, honed both on the mat and in her high-stress career as a physician and researcher, focusing primarily on health disparities and caregivers.

She confessed that she originally started Aikido for “all the wrong reasons”—mainly seeking community and wishing to improve her English after moving to the U.S. from Gabon, Africa. However, she stayed for the “good ones,” drawn to the philosophy and the appeal of using mechanics and technique, rather than brute strength. The realization that personal growth stems from internal victory is core to her drive.

Our conversation quickly expanded beyond the dojo, delving into how Aikido principles translate directly into managing real-world conflict and complexity. Jeannys detailed her own journey as a Type A perfectionist and how Aikido helped her develop resilience. She explained that Aikido taught her that if “the straightforward line doesn’t necessarily go... you have other options”. She learned to embrace circular and elliptic motions, realizing that having a plan B or C is essential, whether dealing with professional research reviewers or interpersonal relationships.

Jeannys highlighted the central role of blending and mutual effort found in partner practice (Uke/Nage). She emphasized the Aikido principle of meeting a partner’s energy, observing, and then using their dynamic to make a technique work. She applies this in non-physical confrontations, preferring to “step back and observe” rather than being immediately offended or frustrated by behavior.

She wisely suggests that you cannot change other people, but you can always change yourself, a powerful insight that guides her work in promoting inclusivity. She beautifully articulated how Aikido training demands relating to others, fostering cooperation, and breaking down duality, noting that if you are an aggressive Nage, you won’t find a cooperative Uke.

The second half of our conversation shifts as Jeannys interviews me for the “Aikido: Your Story” project. This provides a window into my own deeply held, sometimes obsessive, motivation for launching Ki to the City and focusing so heavily on the art. And how, despite my personal aversion to social media and technology—a recurring theme in my writing, often prompted by the overwhelming “cybernetic dystopia” of modern life—I’m compelled to keep going

But enough about me…

Jeannys’s project is exactly the kind of grassroots promotion and community building that’s necessary for the art’s future; taking the ASU mission of inclusion directly to the next generation, proving that the principles of Aiki are the ultimate tool for navigating both the dojo and the overwhelming complexities of the modern world.

The goal, common to both of our projects, is to articulate and communicate Aikido’s transformative power to a larger audience.

And to get more people on the mat!

If you are interested in becoming part of Aikido: your story, reach out to me (here on Substack, Email or Facebook) and I will get you in touch with Jeannys.

Oh, and here are the “Koshinage videos” that we were talking about…

On July 21 of this year, the world of martial arts and Eastern philosophy sadly marked the passing of John Stevens Sensei.

Stevens Sensei was much more than an Aikido instructor; he was a scholarly interpreter, a literary bridge connecting esoteric traditions of Japan with a global audience seeking a pathway to harmony and peace.

With over forty books to his name, Stevens Sensei’s enduring impact stems largely from his ability to synthesize these disciplines, consciously writing about the philosophical and spiritual facets of Budo to create a profound body of work.

John Stevens Sensei’s books are considered indispensable for modern Aikidoka. As a scholar, he specialized in translating complex Japanese cultural concepts, like kototama and misogi, making them understandable and actionable for a global readership unfamiliar with Shinto mythology or esoteric Buddhism.

His most influential contribution remains The Art of Peace, a translation and compilation of O Sensei's teachings. This book’s reach far exceeded the traditional martial arts community, introducing millions to the philosophy of Aikido. (And, as evidenced by its appearance in The Walking Dead, will come in handy during a Zombie apocalypse.)

Stevens Sensei's articulation of Aikido as a path for lifelong physical and spiritual development and his view of the dojo as a mirror of an ideal society offers a vital antidote to stress and conflict.

To explore the continuing vitality of this legacy, I sat down with Wilbert Sluiter Sensei, a long-time student of Stevens Sensei and a torchbearer for the lineage of Stevens and his deeply revered teacher, Rinjiro Shirata Sensei.

Sluiter Sensei leads the Heiwakan Dojo in The Hague, Netherlands—a name bestowed by Stevens Sensei, meaning "Peace Hall," aptly suited for a city that hosts the International Court of Justice and embodies the philosophy of peace.

Demands on his time highlight the practical necessity of this philosophical lineage: he currently maintains a busy life as an physician and family man while dedicating his remaining energy to preserving and teaching “Classical Aikido”.

This balance underscores a central tenet of the art: true practice extends beyond the dojo mat into the chaos of daily life.

A cornerstone of Sluiter Sensei’s teaching, and the philosophy championed by John Stevens, rests on the experiences of Stevens’ own teacher, Rinjiro Shirata Sensei. Shirata Sensei began his training in the founder’s hard-style Aiki Budo, entering the Kobukan dojo in 1931 as a young man.

His path, however, was dramatically altered by historical conflict.

Shirata Sensei was drafted into the Japanese army during the Second World War. As an officer and commander, he endured terrible experiences, evidenced later by the scars of bullets and cuts he bore on his body.

This intense experience with mass death and destruction led him to harbor a deep disdain for fighting and fueled his dedication to the non-violent, spiritual core of Aikido. This background gave him a unique filter through which to receive the founder’s teachings, focusing intently on the philosophy of peace and reconciliation.

This transformation is perhaps best illustrated by Shirata Sensei’s instruction on the technique shihonage (Four Directions Throw). While many view it merely as a physical technique, Shirata Sensei interpreted it as a fundamental lesson in gratitude. He linked the technique to O Sensei’s practice of shiho hai—a morning prayer bowing in four directions—expressing thanks to one's parents, teachers, and environment.

For Shirata Sensei, having survived the horrors of war, the simple ability to practice shihonage was a profound act of thankfulness. This practice offers a powerful emotional and mental tool, as it is impossible to be fearful or depressed while genuinely summoning gratitude. This spiritual focus ensures that the practice remains a means of unification and personal transformation.

This distinctive system inherited by Sluiter Sensei is known as Classical Aikido. This system, established by Stevens Sensei with the approval of Shirata Sensei, is a deliberate effort to preserve the spiritual and philosophical vision of Aikido.

Classical Aikido operates on O Sensei’s dictum that "study and practice are the two wheels of the path". It rejects the notion of simply rote memorization of techniques. Instead, physical training should be coupled with contemplation and intellectual study of the art's deeper origins, including examining O-Sensei's calligraphy, poetry, and history. This approach embraces the founder’s three levels of the art: the manifest (physical techniques), the hidden (ki and breath power), and the divine (spiritual transformation).

The curriculum is structured around Shirata Sensei’s philosophical framework (originally six, later nine pillars) designed to make the comprehensive and sometimes overwhelming techniques of the lineage accessible to "working people who visit the dojo three times a week". These principles ensure techniques must be "true, good, and beautiful"—meaning they must be martially effective ("true"), beneficial to both partners ("good"), and aesthetically harmonious ("beautiful").

Furthermore, Classical Aikido integrates core spiritual methods, such as misogi (purification), kototama (the chanting of sacred syllables), and Chinkon Kishin (calming the spirit).

As Sluiter Sensei explains: the core principle of Classical Aikido is irimi (entering), defining it not merely as a physical movement but as a means of "becoming one" with the partner, the spouse, or the world, moving together in a grateful and unified way.

Through his dedicated work teaching and upholding the complex, spiritual, and physical curriculum of Classical Aikido—a task he performs while balancing the intense responsibilities of an emergency physician—Wilbert Sluiter Sensei is ensuring that the integrated legacy of John Stevens and Rinjiro Shirata Sensei continues to inform and enrich the lives of practitioners across the globe.

For more information, check out his FB page

For those of us who practice Aikido on the regular, we already intimately feel the profound and magical impact it has on everyday life, specifically when it comes to enhancing our ability to harmoniously communicate both verbally and physically with others (occasional social media discourse notwithstanding).

But what happens when you take that intuitive conviction and subject it to the rigorous scrutiny of peer-reviewed academic research?

The result is the groundbreaking work of Dr. Greet Angèle De Baets, a Sensei from Ban Sen Juku Aikido in Belgium, whose doctoral research has provided us with compelling, scientific proof that the principles we exercise on the mat are, indeed, powerful tools for improving real-world communication.

I had the pleasure of sitting down with Dr. De Baets (albeit from about 3,600 miles away) to discuss her fascinating personal journey and the findings of her PhD thesis, Embodied Learning With and From Aikido: A Mixed-Methods Investigation Into Teaching Intercultural Communication Skills for the Workplace.

(The PDF is available for all; just reach out to me and I’ll get you in touch!)

It was an absolute delight to talk with a professor of linguistics whose intellectual curiosity and acumen is matched only by her visceral commitment to embodying the principles of Aikido.

Greet Sensei’s introduction to Aikido, was, like many of ours, through seemingly sheer coincidence. Following a life-changing horseback riding accident, she was left with spinal difficulties and chronic migraines. In her search for relief, she was introduced to Tai Chi by one of her students. That same Tai Chi teacher also taught Aikido…

There’s much more depth to this origin story than I can convey here in this little blurb, so, please, listen to the episode.

A synchronistic start led her to the Ban Sen Juku lineage in Belgium with a local Sensei who happened to be a direct student of Seiji Tomita Sensei.

While his name was new to me, discovered while researching for the interview, the impressive depth and breadth of Tomita Shihan’s background is immediately apparent.

Having trained under Tanaka Bansen Sensei, Tohei Sensei, and Saito Sensei, (and, of course, most importantly, directly with O-Sensei himself) Tomita Shihan’s approach is marked by a clear focus on the “one line” and a sincere adherence to ki musubi—connection and unification with your partner.

Dr. De Baets speaks with glowing reverence for individual instruction she’s received from Tomita Sensei, and it’s clear how his teachings form a foundational stone for her communication work.

At the heart of her methodology is the belief that communication is not purely cognitive.

Professional communication training is predominantly passive: slide-based, power-point presentations, focused solely on intellectual understanding.

Dr. De Baets challenges this head-on. She literally removes the chairs and tables from the room, using simple, “white belt” level tai sabaki as the theory itself—a powerful somatic metaphor—to teach interaction.

She emphasizes that communication “lives in breathing, voice, attitude, timing, presence,” and you cannot learn that by sitting down. What you are learning must be embodied.

Dr. De Baets’ research provides compelling, quantitative (we already have plenty of the qualitative) proof that the “Aikido Interaction Model” and the embodied learning experience have a powerfully positive effect on interpersonal (and beyond) interactions.

Her findings demonstrate that incorporating Aikido activities into communication training significantly supports participant satisfaction, memory retention, and—most importantly for a population riddled with conflict and societal atomization—intercultural competence.

Ultimately, Dr. De Baets’ work offers an elegant and sophisticated answer to a question many of us have sensed instinctively for years: that our practice is more than a martial art.

By aligning her findings with progressive linguistic theories, she reveals another profound conclusion—that Aikido can be understood as a language—a language of social interaction, body movement, sensory experience, and contextual meaning-making.

If you’ve ever needed “evidence-based” validation for your dedication to practice, this is the episode for you.

Tune in to discover how tranquility and anthropocosmic nobility can transform how we interact and influence the world around us.

Here are the relevant links:

Blog

Professional website

Greet Sensei’s local dojo

Main Dojo and lineage

Once again, please reach out to me (or Dr. De Baets) directly for a PDF of her thesis.

Also, (Until/unless I can find some sponsors ;) Ki to the City remains a reader-supported publication. If you have benefited from this project, please consider signing up to be a paid subscriber to help keep the podcast on “the airwaves.”

If you would prefer to make a one-time contribution, you can email me directly at jondiluca@yahoo.com.

As a token of my gratitude, and Don Dickie Sensei’s generosity, you will receive a complimentary copy of his deeply reflective volume of poetry, Silent Winds of Aikido.

Thank you!!!

Kevin Cunningham is the first Bond Street Dojo member (besides myself, of course) to be featured on this podcast. He holds a truly special place in the history of our dojo, and I’m eager to share our recent conversation.

I hope you will be as encouraged by it as I was.

Kevin’s insights are invaluable, providing a candid window into the rich traditions, the camaraderie, and the transformative experiences that have defined the dojo for so many.

His dedication and consistent presence offer an unparalleled and deeply personal perspective on Bond Street's evolution and enduring legacy.

For over two decades, he’s actively contributed to shaping the dojo's character and fostering its unique atmosphere, making him an indispensable figure and a steadfast pillar of the community.

His remarkable background story is testament to Aikido's real-world application, starting from incredibly challenging circumstances.

Kevin's introduction to Aikido (1973 in Austin, Texas) was far from conventional. He was working in high-security mental hospitals with violent psychotic individuals, a demanding environment that immediately put Aikido principles to the test.

He recounts a transformative experience where he was required to work one-on-one with a severely disturbed 15-year-old, tied to him by a belt for 12 hours a day, functioning as the patient's "impulse control."

This direct, daily application accelerated his understanding of ki flow and how to use energy from the heart. His expertise in non-violent self-defense and conflict resolution led him to become an instructor for the Texas mental health system, where he routinely used Aikido principles, including disarming individuals of weapons, when no other options were available. His personal experience vividly demonstrates how Aikido works in “real life.”

Kevin's connection to Bond Street Dojo is deeply rooted. In Bond Street, he found a welcoming artistic community, the "mythical dojo" he’d sought upon moving to New York. He notes that the Bond Street style was less stiff and more responsive than his previous training, allowing him to integrate both good ki extension and solidity with a more “watery” and responsive approach.

He recounts the privilege of working directly with Saotome Sensei, who taught him the principles of a less defensive and more connected and smooth response to a potential attack.

Kevin is deeply invested in the dojo's future and (like most of us) recognizes the challenges of maintaining membership, particularly in this current milieu of societal atomization.

Despite this, he remains an optimistic voice, actively working towards Bond Street's self-sufficiency model by expanding its offerings as a Budo center. He firmly believes that the dojo's commitment to community building and "cooperation, not competition" represents the Aiki way forward.

Kevin probes the depths of the profound philosophical underpinnings of Aikido. His fascination lies in how "empathy works and musubi functions to change violence into something." For him, musubi—connection—is a "kinesthetic sense" felt even "before contact," enabling an empathetic response to an attacker.

He passionately argues that while any Aikido technique can be a killing technique, its true focus is protection and offering choice, teaching practitioners to stay calm under pressure and analyze situations objectively rather than reacting instinctually. This training has proven invaluable in his professional and personal life.

His brilliant work running 3LD.org, a non-profit arts organization, stands as a testament to this dedication and application of Aikido principles. His ability to remain centered, calm, and objective (particularly during high-pressure negotiations with the MTA) allows him to effectively defend the organization's mission and provide a crucial hub for pure creativity in New York City.

Even in the face of post-COVID funding challenges, Kevin's commitment to cooperative ethics and finding self-sufficient models continues to inspire hope for the future of arts and technology.

(And the dojo)

Enjoy!

With humanity being divided further into violently discordant ideological cults (at least from what I’m witnessing via current social media discourse), this conversation with Jamie Leno-Zimron is exactly what I needed to keep my faint faith flame flickering.

I hope we can provide some peace and harmony to your timeline as well.

Today, more than ever, I’m proud to practice “The Art of Peace,” and Jamie Sensei represents the true mission of Aikido as well as anyone I’ve spoken to.

Her journey is one of remarkable, real-world impact and dedication.

She was part of a pioneering group (led by Koichi Barrish) that introduced Aikido to the former Soviet Union in 1987, training dangerously underground when martial arts were outlawed.

Her commitment to citizen diplomacy continued with initiatives like Salaam Shalom Aikido, an effort she started to bridge the cultural gap between Palestinians and Israelis through the art's non-violent principles, laying the foundation for further “Training Across Borders.” She’s also a co-director of the PeaceCamp Initiative, bringing teenagers from conflict-ridden areas in the Middle East to the United States to build bonds through Aikido.

Jamie Sensei's involvement with Aiki Extensions demonstrates sincere dedication to global peace and human betterment through Aikido's principles. As a long-standing board member, she has been instrumental in extending the organization's founder, Don Levine Sensei's, visionary mission: to apply Aikido's principles and practices beyond the dojo into all realms of human activity, including education, business, leadership, psychology, healing work, sports, and, most critically, peace-building.

Her current and urgent work is at the forefront of Ukraine relief efforts, spearheading funding and delivering, in person, somatic, Aikido-based stress and trauma relief sessions at refugee centers in Poland and Ukraine.

These annual support trips highlight her unwavering resolve to empower war-weary individuals, especially women and children, with the vital "medicine of humane values and harmonious practices," creating lasting ripples of positive change and resilience.

I feel like we could have talked for much longer. We were just scratching the surface of the immensely deep potential Aikido holds as a remedy for this increasingly hostile milieu we’re finding ourselves being subsumed by.

Click the link for further information about the ultra important work being done by Aiki Extensions

And to learn about Jamie Leno-Zimron Sensei, visit The Centered Way

Thank you for indulging me these last few weeks.

I know I've gotten a little bit off the track of what this project was originally supposed to be about; I've made it too much about myself.

I guess you could say I went through a bit of a funk, but I feel like I'm back to normal now—well, as normal as I could be—and I'm happy to say that there are three really interesting guests lined up, so you won't have to endure any solo episodes for a while.

In order to un-muddy these waters, I've decided to write a book to help me channel all that "personal writing" somewhere else.

I know I said I was writing a book already, a few months ago, about “Aikido as Theurgy,” but I can't really write those kinds of books. I can't academically compare “Aikido and Theurgy.”

It made for some fascinating research, but it was kinda based on a “marketing idea” I had. I was really into Neoplatonism and I wanted to somehow link the two worlds together—like get Aikido people interested in Neoplatonism and get Neoplatonists into Aikido—but I don't know how to do that. I went on some podcasts that I thought might be interested in hearing about Aikido from the theurgical perspective, but it just didn't work.

I think Aikido is theurgical. I believe O Sensei was genuinely communicating with the divine. But I simply can't write academically. Even if I have “sources,” I always feel like I'm assembling a collage of other people’s writing.

I like reading academic works, but I dropped out of community college for a reason, you know?

From now on, "Ki to the City" is going to have much less of my own background noise—who I thought I was before I started Aikido, etc.

All that personal rigmarole will be channeled into the aforementioned book I decided I was going to write just now when I went for a nice, long walk, because it's obviously still there bubbling on the surface, and I can't just ignore or suppress it.

Whenever I sit down to write, there's an aspect of my persona that kind of jumps out—clamoring to be discussed.

I don't mean like I have multiple personality disorder; I'm just me. But whenever it comes time to think about what "occupation" I want to have in the world—like how I want to fit into society, what "role" I want to play—I've never been able to decide on one.

I get claustrophobic thinking I have to perform one action for the rest of my life. The only thing I've ever stuck to is Aikido because it's fun, because when I go to the dojo I can participate in this living, four-dimensional Tetris action figure practice and I feel better after—and I'm cultivating my life force. I'm growing my soul; I'm adding, not subtracting. Even though I'm spending a lot of energy, I'm also receiving energy. It's hard to explain, but if you practice Aikido, I'm pretty sure you already know what I mean.

Before I discovered Aikido, I had this idea of the role I was supposed to play in the bazaar theatre that is modern human society. I had the persona that I was putting up for sale, and that, unfortunately, could best be described as a subtly suicidal, sad, psychedelic, celebrity shaman poet clown with a picaresque rascal tinge.

Now I know I’d rather be like a mystic martial arts philosopher type (I really wish I had an Alan Watts accent; people would take me more seriously), so I want to focus on that, but I have to acknowledge… not my shadow… I don't wanna call it “my shadow” (I’m not a Jungian) because, you know, it's its own thing; it’s not a shadow of something else… but, whatever it is, I have to acknowledge it – so I'm going to channel writing about it into that book I was talking about. I'll be putting that out in a couple months, I guess. So, if you wanna know more about me, then you could just read my book. I won’t trouble you about it here anymore.

Substack is a strange medium. You can't write too deeply – you only got five minutes. I only expect you to pay attention for like five minutes. I know you have a lot going on yourself – it's going to your email, and that's annoying. Also, there are new subscribers sometimes, so I never know how to keep them updated on what I’ve written before.

Now, you can expect this podcast/Substack project to be much more cleanly delineated: more about Aikido, less about me. I can dispense with all of the other stuff I was trying to shoehorn in. That'll all be in the book.

I’m sincerely excited about the next few episodes. They’re going to be very insightful and indicative of what I genuinely want to focus on going forward: how Aikido really can make the world a better place.

The world, right now, according to the "news cycle," is completely insane. I'm talking about s**t like "nuclear reactors on the moon." (That story got kind of hidden; no one really talked about it, but it's a real story.) They're talking about putting nuclear reactors on the moon. That's insane. That's crazy—not to mention all the other s**t that's going on (techno-feudalism)—but anyway…

I'm sure we can make a dent somehow. There's gotta be a way to conjure up some authentic harmony—not forced, not hypnotic harmony—not people just being turned into cybernetic drones to dully do what they're being told.

A genuine harmony.

For me—for my little part—I really believe in Aikido. It's the only thing that puts me in a more harmonious mood. And if it could put me in a more harmonious mood, then I think it's worth celebrating and doing my utmost to promote however I can.

Peace.