To my delight, this October I entered the rite of passage that is the 1st Dan grading, and I succeeded. I owe a huge amount to the dedicated teaching and guidance that I have received from my sensei, Sensei James Knight through the journey of the last 7 years or so in the Lochaber club based in the Highlands of Scotland. In that time, I have reflected on the importance of the Dojo as more than just a training space – it is an embodiment of the whole Ki Federation, and of the people and principles that have guided it. We know that we follow certain etiquette to respect the space and allow it to safely contain all the learning, the feeling, and the shared experience that we encounter through our training. But our Dojos also become unsung characters in our experience, offering more than just a ‘container’ to hold our training. They are also an ally, as well as a challenge to our ki. It can be a space for fun, community, exploration, and movement, but it can also be a lonely and even intimidating place at times!
Over those last few years, I have had the pleasure of sharing and experiencing training in various Dojos with several clubs, seminars and courses around the country. Each of these appear from everyday halls and community spaces, and each has a unique but similar atmosphere. None, however, match the feeling and presence of being in Ki Federation Headquarters Dojo. Rightly so.
My first experience of the HQ Dojo was in the spring seminar in 2022 alongside my then club training buddy. The enormous journey from Scotland may have had something to do with it, but the stories and photos we had come across cemented a reputation with us, that this was a place to be reckoned with. We quickly discovered the discipline of hoovering the mat each morning, which was the best introduction to the place to help demystify it a little.
But I still wasn’t quite prepared for how the scale of the Dojo transforms it into a busy centre of training one moment and then a formal grading room the next. I witnessed my first ever Dan grading that weekend, and I can remember thinking how elegant and impossible it all looked. I also experienced my own first ‘HQ grading’. I went into it blithely confident, but I was in for a shock at how small I felt under the pressure of the moment. It felt like the room was pressing down on me just to teach me a lesson. It was for Green Belt, and I passed that one at least.
I returned the following year for my Blue Belt grading and was nervous this time; stressed and exhausted at work, which probably left me under prepared and struggling to remember everything in the lead up, and with the constant sense of the Dojo looming. The main feedback that I recall for not passing was a lack of feeling: it seemed that the circumstances of the grading and the place itself had conspired against me.
Fast forward a few years and many experiences, and I found myself in the rapid final run into the 1st Dan grading date. During that last month I experienced the busiest period of aikido I’ve ever previously had – with a group course, weapons course, Bristol club session with Sensei Pete Bailey, an Edinburgh course, and three nights a week with my home club – exposure to so many practices that the Ki was nonstop, and the growth felt exponential. You never truly know if you’re ready for a grading – in some ways that’s the point, but it is possible to reflect on the things you’re more and less comfortable with, and for me Randori was an aspect that consistently left me feeling squashed and mildly panicked – not so different to the feeling in the Dojo that time.
So, one niggle remained (or maybe two): how do I handle flying solo in the big space of the Ki Fed HQ? And how do I deal with both that and the pressure of a Four Dan Grade Attack? It turns out the answer to both questions was in plain sight embedded in the principles and the training that I’d had. Own the mat, extend your mind.
Sensei Knight has always encouraged us to hold the space, and, when in the centre, make it clear whose mat it is. Be in the centre. Extend to fill the room. Send Ki to your partners. Burst with life (I just made that one up). Oh, and perform with confidence. Who’d have thought? Take the feeling you extend through that lovely number thirteen in the Bokken Kata and let everyone know about it.
With that in mind, on the day, I realised that there was one last thing I needed to do. I needed to feel every part of that room. When you first walk down the corridor you can sense the open space beyond, hidden from view. You step on the carpet in the viewing area, and the sheer depth of the space holds your attention. I would say that previously, after the daily task of hoovering, once I’ve changed into my kit, I have found it easier to be anchored towards the green carpet for my warmup, like there’s security nearer the entrance. I have noticed that others may unconsciously feel the same way, because it often takes a crowd building at one end to nudge people further forward when they are warming up.
Sensei Knight suggested to me that I should warm up early enough to leave time to kneel quietly and meditate while others are chatting and stretching and rolling. I went one further. I knew I needed to break down the barrier of the depth of the hall and experience and feel every part and corner – fast and slow, high and low. I got changed early, and before anyone else was around, I simply walked the whole mat with full intention. I thought of my one point, I completely relaxed, I walked and ran with a light posture, and above all, I extended my mind to fill every nook and cranny. When I returned to the centre of the mat to stretch and to meditate, I felt like I had completed a very important step in my journey, and for the first time, I felt completely at ease with the grading to come.
A grading is a rite of passage at every grade. You are one thing before it, and then out on the mat you are allowing yourself to be vulnerable to the unknown and to show your best ability to hold the moment – it is a liminal space like no other. Afterwards, whether you succeed or not, something has changed. The grading marks the beginning of the next stage, and that is when you get to learn to be the next level that you have achieved. Much the same as all of life’s progressions I suppose.
Good luck to you all with your next grading whenever that may be – embrace the space and notice and feel it wherever you are. Only then will the space begin to work with you, rather than compress you, and invite you to expand your feeling to fully connect with the place through your practice.
Matt Groves
Lochaber Aikido Club