TAE Journal, Edition 11, California Dreaming. By Ellie Denvir and Adrian Punt

FROM EDITION 11 OF THE TRADITIONAL AIKIDO EUROPE JOURNAL – SPRING 2024

California is a haven for Aikido – and in the San Francisco Bay Area, Takemusu Aikido in particular. It is probably the first place outside of Japan that Saito Sensei taught and remains home for some very senior Aikido practitioners. This is the story of our group visit to California in early September 2023, of the Aikido we practised, the people we met, the connections we made, and the places we visited.

Our group consisted of eight intrepid travellers - Lewis and Eduardo from Spain, Johnny from Denmark, and five of us from the UK (Paul, Emilio, Brendon, Ellie, and Adrian). We all arrived in San Francisco International airport in a semi-co-ordinated fashion on the afternoon of Thursday 31st August 2023. The reason – the joint Hoa Newens Sensei and Lewis Bernaldo de Quiros Sensei ‘gasshuku’ (intense training camp) – in Bolinas, northern California. 

Deciding to take the trip to Bolinas was no small matter. The cost, environmental impact and effect on the body of long-distance flights, all weighed heavily in the balance against going. But then, there was the lure of the intensive training with the two dynamic and much-loved Sensei and the enticing photos of the dojo on the hill looking out over the Pacific Ocean like some kind of paradise. One discussion of the pros and cons of the trip went like this: “I don’t think I can afford to go” – and the reply: “I don’t think I can afford not to go!” With individual hesitations and motivations in check, we set out from our European starting points to head through airports and across the Atlantic Ocean.

After the flights, bodies and vehicles eventually fell into place and we were on the road, heading through traffic-clogged San Francisco, north across the Golden Gate Bridge and onto Highway 1.  The twisting road hugged the coast, and the San Francisco traffic was left behind.  We slowed to stop, got out, and stood on the cliffs in the dusk, breathed, and welcomed the sea air. The scent of forest and ocean, clean fragrant and piney, started to cut through the sleep deprivation of the long flight and queasiness of the weaving car journey.

We arrived in Bolinas, a small coastal community along the San Andreas Fault, 27 miles by road from San Francisco, after sunset.  The night and our first day helped us to feel our feet on the ground and to absorb the atmosphere and environment in which we would be training. It was surprisingly cold. Wasn’t California meant to be hot? Geoff and Grace welcomed us to their wonderful 19th century redwood barn converted home and their 17.5 tatami (35 sq metre) wood-framed dojo, built by Geoff, in the garden.  In the dojo or elsewhere, travel-weary, we found somewhere to lay our sleeping bags and recover from the journey.

We woke to a chilling morning fog, but as promised, the fog dissipated and a view of the green valley that cuts through Bolinas opened with the beach and ocean down below.  A leisurely walk around Bolinas, led by Grace and Geoff showed wooden houses, flag poles and pick-up trucks – quintessentially west-coast America, the beach a mecca for surfers – designer surfers; middle of the road surfers; full-time low budget surfers living in camper vans; all clad in black neoprene wetsuits, catching the waves or cooking lunch in the back of their pick-up.

Some of us had brought tents, and there was time to pitch near the dojo before the Friday evening start to the gasshuku. As the earliest of the aikidoka started to arrive, the buzz of expectation of training and of new encounters began. Extending out from the small, beautiful dojo, Geoff had built a 6 m wide by 11.5 m long, raised wooden platform  and the first activity of the gasshuku, sharing our energies and problem solving skills, was to put down and secure Velcro-ed mats on this outside area.

Before long, we were all on the mat, the Europeans and aikidoka from across Northern California, with some kind of electric charge of anticipation. Training together with Lewis and Hoa Sensei leading, we started to break the ice of unfamiliarity. The variety and texture of training partners, so many diverse levels of experience, took shape to form the weekend’s training group. Lewis applied himself to getting to know the level of Aikido in the group, and our band of European Aikidoka adjusted itself to training in the new environment.  The tempo and approach of the event was set this first evening with Lewis blending with Hoa Sensei, following and letting him take the lead, improvising the teaching through on-the-mat relationship as they took turns to teach. This Bolinas dynamic was the first phase of a journey that continued though the full weekend and beyond.

We all gathered to eat after training in Grace and Geoff’s house, some sat on cushions on the floor at a long, low table, Japanese style, some on the sofa, some on chairs. It was a time to relax, discuss and connect socially with our training partners.

From the first night in tents on the crumbly earth at the side of the dojo, we welcomed sleep quickly and gratefully, but several of us were woken by what sounded like the shouts, whoops and hoops of drunken youths on the other side of the garden fence. Later, we were told that it was a pack of coyotes calling out to each other. On another morning, a mountain lion footprint was found in the garden and there was talk of an eagle sighting. Wild, untamed nature was brushing up against us.

We woke with the rustlings of companion Aikidoka getting out of their sleeping bags in the dark, piling on layers, zipping open tents, nudging from sleep to wakefulness, heading for coffee - chatting, or being quiet,  With the immersive experience of training and living together, we were all heading into the dojo by 06:00, finding our cushion, blanket or bench, and sitting in meditation, opening to any stillness that might find us. 

After meditation on Sunday, in the first morning light, just before 07:00, with keikogi on, jacket on top and weapons in hand, the whole group wound its way down the valley side to Bolinas Beach. Between us we carried two tyres, each sitting within a wooden frame for tanren uchi (striking) practice. Despite the early hour, the neoprene-clad surfers were out in force and there were children playing on the beach. What an odd sight we must have been, all there in our white dogis! 

Practice started with bokken suburi, energetically striking, and thrusting and adapting our form to accommodate the soft sandy slope of the beach. We then moved into high-paced tanren uchi practice, then partnered bokken awase work as the sun rose over the hilly peaks of Mount Tamalpais State Park to the east. We practised with surf lapping around our legs, and at one point Hoa Sensei drove Geoff, so far into the water that he fell over and disappeared, albeit briefly, completely under the waves, to then quickly reemerge, dripping from head to toe. As the morning progressed, we moved into ken tai jo practice, with further opportunities to practise in and against the water, to feel the push and pull of the waves, the sand as it was sucked from beneath the feet, and at keeping focus, clear attack and reception with the surge and spray of the water. Eventually, the advancing tide reduced the beach to a thin strip, forcing us to retreat, pick up all our weapons and the tanren constructions, and climb back up the valley side for an opportunity to rinse feet, dry off and the final classes of the weekend.

The gasshuku continued to a second phase of training on Monday, at the Aikido Institute of Davis in Sacramento, Hoa Sensei’s main dojo, about 2 hours drive (ca. 100 miles / 160 km) inland to the north-east of Bolinas, again with Hoa Sensei and Lewis Sensei each teaching half the class. As we headed away from the coast, the temperature increased, to reach the September heat more typical of our expectations of California. We took time to bask in the warm sunshine. 

Hoa Sensei’s warm up involved deep horse stance, and lots (and lots) of rolling. Hoa Sensei’s ukemi is exceptionally fluid. When he stands from a roll, it is like water being poured upwards. The expectation of extended rolling practice, softening the body’s flow is a given in his classes. Those training, including some from the California Aikido Association division under Pat Hendricks Sensei, and other members of the Davis club who had not made it to the weekend training in Bolinas, made a full and energetic mat. Working with new and different training partners, all practising under Saito Sensei’s legacy, we felt our way through the similarities and differences in the ways that we train, as we listened and connected.  For Lewis, in this was a further exercise in feeling his way into the way Aikido is practised in Hoa Sensei’s orbit group, tuning his teaching into this context.

Afterwards, we were treated to lunch at Hoa Sensei’s home. We sat in the garden under the shade of trees, eating, talking, learning, and laughing, and finally saying goodbye to Hoa Sensei, his wife Phoebe and his close training group. The gasshuku was ended. There was a feeling of completion as we made a very leisurely return to our temporary home, but our training adventure was far from over.

Back in Bolinas later on Monday, sitting outside in the cool evening coastal air, Lewis proposed the shape of our next few days for the eight Europeans and our two hosts: 06:30 morning meditation, followed by an hour’s class would continue, and at the end of each days relaxing touristic activities, we would train again for another hour. Fantastic. The delight that our focused training would continue, into a third phase was shared by all.

During one of the first meals of the gasshuku, one of the Californian guests has asked the European group whether we all knew each other already. One of our group replied, “I see this lot more than I see my own family.” Yes, this group of Europeans knew each other quite well already, but as we plunged into the further week of living, training, eating, sleeping, meditating, our group, which included our generous, open and warm hosts, started to gain its own shape, as our ways of contributing to the collective experience emerged; Johnny as the quickly-established group barista, brewing coffee every morning, so there was almost always a pot ready; humour and chiropractic manipulations on the side from Paul; Emilio the restauranteur seemingly effortlessly blending with Grace and Geoff in their kitchen; meals cooked, enjoyed and cleaned away by the whole group, as we got to know Grace and Geoff and each other more closely.  Each of the remaining mornings, we were on the mat for meditation. Zen meditation might be difficult, but with the feeling of group togetherness that was present, meditating was simply the way into the day. 

After morning training on Tuesday, we visited Mount Tamalpais State Park to hike up ‘Mount Tam’s’ ‘Steep Ravine Trail,’ a hike that follows Webb Creek through tall redwood trees and dense banks of ferns that are maintained by what appears to be almost daily fog. Taking the trail leading uphill, we were deep in the territory of the trees, towering above us, lending arches for us to walk under, helping us to feel the smallness of being human as we wove between the trunks that were so much older and bigger than us. We had the fragrance of damp earth and the sound of running water to liven our senses as we climbed. For the very brave, there was even a quick dip into the stream. On the way back we visited the ridge of Mill Valley and a view of San Francisco in the distance. It was then back to Bolinas to train again.

The following day we followed the same schedule, this time visiting Point Reyes (from the Spanish for ‘Point of the Kings’) a prominent cape and seashore reserve about one hours drive north of Bolinas. Point Reyes is the windiest place on the Pacific Coast and the second foggiest place on the North American continent (fog seems to be a recurring theme along the Californian coast). Luckily, the skies were clear. We walked to an observation point, past the whale skull set against the rocks, to look out across the North Pacific Ocean, the great sweep of beach rolling out to the north. Standing at the railing, we were rewarded by the sight of one, then two plumes of spray, quite far out, powerful out-breaths from grey or humpbacked whales, a mum and pup it seemed, then another group. Then, the quick curve of black against the blue ocean, as one or two breached. These were small flashes of movement that drew whooping from us, delighted by the treat of witnessing the whale’s leap.

Each day, back at the dojo, on the platform, all of us were further rewarded by individual, focused feedback from Lewis Sensei on our own Aikido practice, the way we moved or were still, our relationships to our weapons, training partners and our own bodies. The magic was complete, none of us wanted it to end.

Then sadly, it was Thursday, our day of departure and the last morning of meditation and training. It was time to take our tents down, to pack our bags, say our goodbyes, to head to the airport and board our various flights home. It was time to return, and readjust, back to normal daily life. 

For many of us on the trip, leaving the exceptional location, dojo and hosts, and leaving the togetherness and intention of the small group that we had created together, had a bittersweet flavour. How lucky we were to have had this experience, and how much we didn’t want it to end. Several months on, we still dream about our time in California and of the chance to relive this experience again in the future... Do you have the same dream…?

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