metamorphosing violence

It's time I said something about aikido, my Monday evening activity. When I joined the group, just after we arrived in Vaulnaveys in 2005, my motivation was opportunistic: it was convenient (a kilometre away in the same village), and I could relate it to shiatsu and tai chi, which I was already familiar with. Now I go because the club, run by Serge Scotti in the dojo created in his converted basement and supported by a small but faithful band, is my community.

So this is the team: Serge who generously gives us his time come rain come shine; Véronique, a kind and supportive friend who tied the knot with Serge three years ago; Philippe, from whom I've learned as much as from Serge; Claude, an experienced, but sporadic member of the club; Isabelle, with whom Juan and I have shared suppers and walks, and who has helped me with graphic design on my shiatsu publicity; Emma, who Juan and I met last Christmas Eve chez Kelli and Olivier. It's good to have Emma in the group as we are long overdue new blood. Annoyingly, she is picking up the concepts way more quickly than me! It means I have to relinquish the comfort zone of know-nothing baby in the group and grow up a bit.

After seven years of painfully slow progress I'm beginning to appreciate that it's not about bringing your partner to the floor in whatever way possible - hard to resist though that can be. It's about the way you are in contact during the movement: Acceuillir... Absorber... Accepter... Accompagner... Apaiser... (how neatly it works in French - confirming, for some, that France is the centre of the universe?), with the aim the métamorphose de la violence en soi. If you can then allow this body awareness to transfer into day-to-day life you are on the way to getting somewhere But its a subtle business and a lifetime's work or more.

Here's Serge demonstrating with Claude and Isabelle:

Although I am sometimes sluggish about turning up each Monday, I always feel better at the end of the evening. Perhaps it's the sense of liberation I feel on the tatami, communicating via the body rather than expression-limiting French. Or that, for once, I am really seen, and accepted in all my guises - sulky delinquent, depressive, crazy wild woman, flirt, clown.
Occasionally we link up with another local group from the same school (Sumikiri) under the guidance of a visiting teacher. Here's the group practising at the Meylan dojo:

... with me looking a prat in civvies, having forgotten my hakama:

... and again, with Emma:

Apart from a way of developing our aikido skills, Monday evening is an excuse to have a beer together after the class - and to celebrate the highs is life: birthdays (see earlier post), promotions etc.

Thank you, comrades!