The Lure of Curiosity
In aikido, there is a move called irimi nage in which our opponent strikes, and with a generous sweep of the arm we invite the attacker to sail right by us, losing balance and falling harmlessly to the ground. There is very little physical contact necessary in this move, just the ability to position ourselves correctly and trace in the air the movement of a door opening. If all goes well, our opponent is helpless to resist rushing through this energetic doorway, and the attack is over before it begins.
Irimi nage is known as the “20-year technique.” Underneath its elegant and powerful form is a complex series of movements, each of which must be trained into our bodies over a long period of time. We start by making very large movements, stepping behind our partner and pivoting 360º, drawing a wide sweeping arc with one arm and eventually stepping in to complete the throw. I have also seen irimi nage done beautifully by my teachers with nothing more than a slight shift of the feet and a raised forearm.
To Morihei Ueshiba, the founder of aikido, irimi nage was the physical expression of a fundamental spiritual principle. In the Shinto myth of Amaterasu the Sun Goddess, Amaterasu retreats into a cave, withdrawing the sun’s radiance from the world. After repeated attempts to force and cajole her out have failed, Amaterasu hears loud cheering and laughter just outside the cave entrance. At first she is angry that the Gods are having fun when they should be mourning her absence. As the noise continues, however, she begins to wonder just what is going on.
Finally, she can bear her curiosity no longer. She moves the boulder blocking the cave entrance just enough to peer through a tiny crack. But that crack allows a beam of brilliant sunlight to escape the cave, and it is reflected back to her from a tiny mirror hanging from a tree branch just outside. Amaterasu beholds the truth of her own beauty, and is moved by self-love to emerge and restore harmony to the worlds.
In irimi nage, Ueshiba taught, the attacker is also led by curiosity to step through the door, and thus harmony is restored and there is no conflict. With this understanding, we have the opportunity to re-enact the myth of Amaterasu every time we do irimi nage.
This teaching about the power of curiosity resonates deeply with me, and has led me to think more about all the ways we initiate, or try to initiate, change. In politics, especially activist politics, the go-to approach is to get people excited. If we become emotionally aroused, incensed, inspired, impatient, furious, or ecstatic, we can be moved to action, preferably behind a charismatic leader who can tell us which way to march, or where to sit down for maximum effect.
But what kind of change does that really produce in the individual? For me, social movements can be hugely inspiring in the moment, but once the crowd thins out and the rented megaphones are returned, I’m right back where I started from. No lasting transformation has taken place, I have just been on a nice ride with my friends, and have another story to tell. We all still agree that we are against bad things and in favor of good things. Our positions have not changed, nor has our thinking.
The things that truly change me, on a lasting basis, are those which engage my curiosity. And here is another secret to the effectiveness of irimi nage: our first move is to enter deeply behind our attacker, turning to face the way he is facing. Essentially, we begin by blending with him. We have not said he is right and we are wrong, we haven’t given up our center, our balance, or our ability to carry out the technique. In essence, we have disarmed our opponent by doing something unexpected, that he almost agrees with, and his curiosity about this is the force which neutralizes his own attack.
It is subtle, persuasive, infinitely complex. When it goes well, the feeling of being inside the technique as it unfolds is exhilarating and deeply satisfying. But then, so is lasting change.
September 9th, 2008 at 9:35 pm
“In essence, we have disarmed our opponent by doing something unexpected, that he almost agrees with, and his curiosity about this is the force which neutralizes his own attack.” Dear Anne, I love your declaration, here. Yesterday with my Samurai Sprouts (a group of 5 & 6 years olds) we practiced a simple yet true version of irimi nage. Their delight in being baffled and in disarming each other with the surprise of entering to rear impressed me more than usual. For some of them it was their first ever experience of irimi nage, yet its power was obvious even at their level of practice. Thank you, Anne, for helping me digest my experience of their joy. Love, Michelle Keip
September 10th, 2008 at 4:32 pm
I love asking questions. This is a lovely meditation – thanks.
September 10th, 2008 at 10:08 pm
l have always felt that meaningful communication requires the willingness to see through the eyes of one’s opponent, without getting lost in his or her position. So often, debates are made up of people who are just waiting for their turns to speak, and have little effect. Thanks for your great posts.
September 12th, 2008 at 3:19 pm
I’m trying desperately to come up with something verbose and inspirational here, but the best I can do is reflect on the patience it takes to learn in the correct way and how much my impatience distracts me from my education.