{"id":1687,"date":"2011-03-08T14:42:41","date_gmt":"2011-03-08T13:42:41","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/?p=1687"},"modified":"2011-03-08T14:42:41","modified_gmt":"2011-03-08T13:42:41","slug":"body-leadership-narrative-extracts-chapter","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/2011\/03\/body-leadership-narrative-extracts-chapter\/","title":{"rendered":"The Body and Leadership &#8211; Narrative Extracts Chapter 1"},"content":{"rendered":"<p><span style=\"font-size: medium;\"><strong>Fighting Frontiers <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong>&#8211; Illustrative Narrative Extracts from <a href=\"http:\/\/integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/2011\/03\/body_leadership_book.html\">The Body and Leadership<\/a><\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong> <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong> <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong>Introduction<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><em>This is a story about conflict and the search for peace.\u00a0 It\u2019s about movement, division and union. It\u2019s a true story about dreams and a dream of a true story. While living it I went insane, got beaten-up over a thousand times and was drunk out of my skull for the first half of it; so please don\u2019t get upset if I misspelt your name. The story journeys through years and continents, sex and violence. Its heart is the body, the strange martial art of aikido and the stranger characters that practice it. Our story begins in the middle, on an island fairly far away:<\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><em> <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong>The Body of Hope and Adventure <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<ul>\n<li><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong> <\/strong><strong>April 14th 2005 \u2013 Nicosia, Cyprus<\/strong><\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><em> <\/em><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">With clear intent and little outward sign of nerves I lead an unlikely group out of the once luxurious hotel, now United Nations fortress, into the last of the afternoon\u2019s sunshine. The dusty heat of the Cypriot day is settling into a beautiful evening. With me are a gaggle of Arabs, Americans, Serbs, Jews and other ethnicities from waring countries around the world. Most of them met for the first time a few hours ago and the conversation was\u2026a little tense:<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">\u201cI\u2019ve been taught my whole life to hate you.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">\u201cI almost didn\u2019t come here, and I\u2019m still not sure that meeting you is a good idea.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">\u201cDon\u2019t take my picture \u2013 if my neighbors knew I was here they\u2019d kill me.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Curiosity is averting disaster so \u2013 we\u2019re riding that and the stubborn kernel of something inside that wont die. After the lives of some of these people it\u2019s a small miracle that it\u2019s still there&#8230;and in another light a necessity.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Walking carefully behind me the XXXXX &#8211; making nervous jokes with some Israelis now &#8211; things are looking up. With regal bearing and classical English they are easy to like. They carry themselves proudly but without arrogance. The two teenagers they\u2019ve bought along are open, with less baggage than most of us here, and the only people younger than me I\u2019d guess. They\u2019ve been some of the first to start mixing and it\u2019s gotten the ball rolling. It reignites hope which could be the word that\u2019s venturing out for air. I\u2019ve been hiding behind cynicism since some bad things happened a few years ago, but it\u2019s hard not to feel hopeful today.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Another arab group nearby look tired but cheerful. They\u2019re earthier than the Jordanians and move like tanks \u2013 big, jovial and kinda square looking. They\u2019re tired because they had to drive for 48 hours before they could get a plane here and there was a border closure. (\u201cWe drove around the country that wouldn\u2019t let us in. !!!!\u201d\u00a0 Big angular balls \u2013 they make me smile). When they\u2019d arrived earlier there was a mini party at the hotel.\u00a0 I greeted them with the few no doubt badly pronounced Arabic words I\u2019d learnt in Tunisia, and was surprised to see a familiar face. I knew **** from England, where he\u2019d lived for a couple of years \u2013 it\u2019s a small, weird little world and having this group here is a coup.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">The small American bearded film director scurries in front of me closely followed by a Greek-Cypriot camera crew. I smile which is genuine and try not to look like I\u2019m shitting myself which isn\u2019t. They pan round and catch Paul Linden right at the back, like the director he\u2019s small and bearded, a humble man whose left arm trembles with Parkinson\u2019s Disease but looks like he\u2019 on a county stroll and nothing in the world could bother him. He\u2019s a master of embodied training and the Parkinson\u2019s is one of God\u2019s sicker jokes. He actually seems to find it funny and wise-cracked about it when I tried to ask sensitively what it was at dinner last night. He works a lot with trauma survivors through the body, and something about his just engenders trust. We need that now.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Everybody\u2019s checking each other out like it\u2019s the first day at ninja school. We have different religions, cultures and languages and oh, and most of us have trained for years to be lethal martial arts machines capable of taking-out a room full of people barehanded. I remind myself what a powder-keg I\u2019m merrily dragging along and wonder again if maybe this whole project is a bad, bad idea? <em>Why hasn\u2019t it gone horribly wrong already? <\/em>Too late for that we\u2019re way over the Rubicorn. I shake my head and do my smirking thing, it\u2019s just nerves on my periphery &#8211; the centre says yes.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Walking out of the Ledra Palace the British UN soldiers smile back under their sky-blue berets, bemused stubbled faces, but professional and upright as ever. They\u2019ve been friendly all day, scanning us for bombs, checking passports and asking me to translate, \u201cWhat your bloody Yank boss is saying.\u201d Having had a girlfriend from our wayward colony I speak conversational American so this is easy enough. The squaddies stationed here are mostly younger than my 25 years \u2013 disturbingly so in fact &#8211; working class kids with regional accents who probably wanted to see the world, or just not the bastard at Newcastle Job Centre again.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">They\u2019ve just come back from a part of the planet which none of them want to say more than a few words about &#8211; Iraq. \u201cDifficult\u201d was mentioned when I asked an officer. The teenage privates used the words \u201cfucking\u201d and \u201chorrible\u201d when I asked them, and the aged sergeants just shrugged and looked away sadly. I can tell everyone\u2019s relieved to be here in Cyprus, a veritable holiday by comparison. Ironically the second largest UN contingent here is from Argentina &#8211; old Falkland and football enemies keeping the peace together &#8211; someone at the UN HQ in New York must be stupid or clever. Maybe they\u2019ve just having a laugh \u2013 I\u2019ve seen people that work in nuclear power plants and stock exchanges playing sillier games to pass the time.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">As we walk out past the sun-winking razor wire, I remember coming into the Ledra for the first time last year. I\u2019d felt like James Bond meeting my contact and being ushered into the decaying bowls of the once luxurious UN command center. Before the \u201874 war this was the fanciest hotel on the island \u2013 now it\u2019s home to several hundred British soldiers \u2013 their drying underwear and football flags draping its lavish but battle-scared balconies. Since it was redecorated with bullets and rocket propelled grenades the army has really let the place go. The UN don\u2019t seem to have the budget that the tourists hotels in the south do, but the pool out the back is still working so it can\u2019t be a bad posting. They\u2019ve been good to let us in here, and I was embarrassed earlier when there had been some friction. I\u2019ve become Mr Fix It, smoothing out problems, whether they be with squiggly Arab passports or my bosses not speaking the English that The Queen intended.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">They were walking back and to the side of me now \u2013 Donald Levine, in his seventies and an eminent professor of the University of Chicago, was talking quietly with the evocative figure of Richard Strozzi Heckler. It was the latter\u2019s ever so slightly shadowy military connections that had gotten us into the Ledra in the first place. Don is cerebral and leads from the head and gesticulates with his hands in a way which reveals his Jewish ethnicity. Richard is as composed and impressive as ever in his bearing. Don and Richard had thought this thing up and were both great men &#8211; the kind of eccentric over-achievers that wouldn\u2019t let \u201ccan\u2019t\u201d and \u201cimpossible\u201d get in the way of their plans. Philip Emminger the project manager is with them. I\u2019d met him last year. Phil is a self-made millionaire, pilot and company managing-director.\u00a0 He was currently running around &#8211; a red haired, hyper-active whirlwind, counting the participants that had arrived so far. I\u2018m basically his gofer-tea-boy-bitch which is cool. On top of this logistical nightmare Philip is going through a difficult divorce that shows in his face under the activity and I\u2019m happy to help even if I\u2019m more than a bit out of my depth. I get the impression I\u2019m leaning leadership the hard way, but at least from some good teachers.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I\u2019d been here for a week before the other organizers arrived and knew Nicosia, the divided capital of Cyprus, as well as any foreigner. I was useful as I had one luxury that the other vastly more experienced and talented team didn\u2019t have \u2013 time.\u00a0 I was essentially an international martial arts bum of mystery and had been ecstatic about volunteering to spend a month here last year doing reconnaissance and another month now dotting t\u2019s and crossing borders.\u00a0 Why I decided to do this is more complicated\u2026enough for now to say it\u2019s a big deal to me. There\u2019s a divorce, a lost love and a wedding involved but this is too complicated already\u2026<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Now we were quite officially in the middle of nowhere.\u00a0 Outside the Ledra was the centre of the no-man\u2019s land separating the North from the South. Called the \u201cGreen Line\u201d after the colour that a British officer had hastily scrawled on a map in 1974, it was part of a UN policed buffer zone that ran the width of the island. It had only three crossing points and this was the main one.\u00a0 It ranged in width from a Berlin-style wall, to patches of land several kilometers wide. I\u2018d been taken to the old airfield that sat timeless in one such pocket.\u00a0 Caught in the fighting when the Turkish had invaded, it\u2019s remained unused since \u2013 the airliner that had been shot down while trying to take off with the Cypriot President was still on the tarmac. Cyprus \u2013 legendary isle of Aphrodite &#8211; goddess of love \u2013 had been torn in two and left that way for 30 years.The ever-present Mediterranean dust had settled but embodied racial hatred and machine gun towers bristling fear had too. Philip and I had seen a young couple parting on the line a few nights ago. A Greek-Turkish Romeo and Juliet tearing asunder entwined vines of energy to go their separate ways. It was heart-breakingly beautiful. Both sides are involved in this project although one practices in secret due to government restrictions.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">To the north is the Turkish speaking part of the island, labeled \u201cillegal occupied territory\u201d, or, \u201cThe Republic of Northern Cyprus\u201d depending on your race of view. The international community generally went along with the former, but as Turkey was a tactically positioned, well-armed Muslim NATO member, nothing was done about it. To the south is the Greek speaking new EU member &#8211; Cyprus. Rich by comparison to the north, and at least on the surface more democratic. We\u2019d crossed from there before entering the Ledra for initial meetings and introductions. Usually bored looking guards with a lax sweaty uniforms just waived you though \u2013 sometimes they checked passports and bags for tax-free contraband on the way back \u2013 but nothing heavy. In the last year things had become much more relaxed and now locals as well as foreigners could cross over to see the other side, but there was still the sense that things could go wrong and fierce hostility was clearly a habit for some. Sometimes you\u2019d get a guard that would give you a hard time for no apparent reason. The feeling was that by visiting the North you legitimised it as an entity. The vibe of Nicosia was both edgy and relaxed; cultured and violent. It was like a dozing tiger, well groomed but with bloody whiskers and a pile of bones by its side.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Bouncing by my side is Tesfaye \u2013 a new friend from Ethiopia &#8211; all black muscles and white teeth. Don suggested I look after him \u2013 this being his first time in Europe and Don probably had some cunning long-term plan in mind.\u00a0 We\u2019ve been sharing a room and manically making final arrangements over the last few days. It\u2019s like having a sidekick except he\u2019s taller and better looking which isn\u2019t the way these things should work. He\u2019s incredibly athletic and charming as a bunch of roses wrapped in black silk. This Cyprus adventure is the most mind-blowing thing I\u2019ve done, and for him it must even stranger.\u00a0 Don\u2019s a professor of Ethiopian studies amongst other things and Tesfaye &#8211; meaning \u201cnew hope\u201d is the first East Africa to study the martial art of aikido &#8211; the misshapen spine of this story. Tesfaye is also part of a circus troupe that teaches AIDS awareness. <em>So far so weird right? &#8230;<\/em>That\u2019s is one of Richard\u2019s jokes.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">So what is aikido anyway? (Pronounced \u201ceye-key-dough\u201d)\u00a0 About time that got explained. Ask me on different days and I\u2019ll give you different answers.\u00a0 When I first started training I loved defining it \u2013 now I hate to break it down. The stock answer which is on one level correct and on another entirely wrong, is that it is a non-violent Japanese martial art, consisting of joint locks, throws and strikes. It looks like a circular, relaxed dance when done well \u2013 by people in pajamas and black hakama (basically a Samurai skirt). Some would say the object of aikido is resolving conflicts without force or aggression, others would say that it was just a way of beating people up \u2013 so the non-violent bit is open to interpretation. For most people who practice it seriously though, it is a \u201cdo\u201d, or way of life \u2013 something far more than a hobby.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">All the people walking through the Green Line now practice aikido.\u00a0 A few are relatively new to it; many are the senior instructors in their countries. Most of the top aikido guns in the Middle East are here \u2013 meeting for the first time on neutral ground. This is the start of the Training Across Borders project \u2013 a novel attempt to build bridges between the aikido communities of nations in conflict. Peace through fighting if you will \u2013 it\u2019s an odd beautiful, twisted paradox that\u2019s been the focus of my life for the last year &#8211; I hope it works out with every cell of my body.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">There are others from further afield here too. To my left is Jose Bueno \u2013 one of Brazil\u2019s top aikido teachers. The aptly named \u201cMr Good\u201d in Portuguese has a polished bald head, relaxed as a Sunday morning cuddle and carries a face full of Brazilian warmth. He\u2019s jogging ahead and spinning around to take pictures of the crowd that\u2019s walking behind us. I\u2019m a shaken, stirred Molotov of emotions, enclosed in a bottle of concentrated alertness. I turn round to see what Jose\u2019s clicking at and view the group as a whole for the first time.\u00a0 I\u2019m guiding our strange group across to the other side and it\u2019s a real buzz.\u00a0 This is where I\u2019m most alive, this is what I\u2019m good at, this is where I\u2019m meant to be. Hairs on my neck tingle and my I can feel my heart pulse life, leadership and joy around my body.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Jose is calling to Miles Kessler \u2013 along with Richard Miles seems the most serene \u2013 as well as an aikido instructor chiseled from years in the tough Japanese rural dojo of Iwama, he\u2019s also a meditation teacher. Rumor has it he spent 10 years up a mountain in Tibet or was in 12 years in the jungles of Burma? Wherever it was it shows now on the slight Buddha-smile lounging on his weapons platform of a frame.\u00a0 we all embody our history and practices especially when it matters most.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Between bombed out houses where only cats dare to tread, to light, to smart and to careful to set-off land-mines \u2013 our colourful group ambles forwards. I take a moment to beam with happiness and pride at the picture. I\u2019ve been working up to today for a year and I feel in my body and mind being in \u201cthe zone\u201d \u2013 the demilitarized zone my unconscious puns when I notice this. A part of the mind really doesn\u2019t care, but the soul does. My Scottish counterpart Jim asks me a question in his rolling glen accent and I\u2019m blagging the answer before he\u2019s finished. I should have a deep fear now but I don\u2019t. I\u2019m walking with a multi-national sack of human TNT on my back to the border of a dodgy dictatorial domain and I\u2019m grinning like the first dog to lick its balls. It could all go horribly wrong at any minute &#8211; it almost has several times but I know\u2026<em>every lil thing, is gonna be alright<\/em>. Don\u2019t worry. Bout a thing. My sandals flip flap flop through the dust.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">We\u2019d decided to have our first meal together at the old Press Club. This building\u2019s in a unique geographical and political position, in that depending on whether it has the front or back doors open \u2013 it is located in the north or the UN zone. We\u2019d hoped to get in the back door and save the hassle of getting nearly a hundred people from Dodgylookslikeaterroristostan across the border. In what I\u2019ve learnt is Cypriot style however the restaurant had decided (been told?) an hour ago that this couldn\u2019t happen. I\u2019d been yattering to border guards with help from Damianos the South Cypriot aikido teacher and apparently it\u2019s not going to be a problem. They\u2019d checked out the list of 18 nationalities I said would be present and it was fine. Given the list I\u2019m not sure how they worked this out, but they claimed they\u2019d even put on more staff to ease the crowd. I wasn\u2019t totally convinced, having lost a some trust in Cypriot reliability, but somehow I still feel confident. As the group approaches the last border I feel great in fact \u2013 life itself flowing through me and bursting out of every pore. This is one of the peak moments of my life and I\u2019m savoring it, I should write a book about this shit.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Everything about the border says NO! It looks like a blockade but we\u2019re an unstoppable mass of yes. We walk past red and black signs boasting of permanence and threatening no compromise &#8211; they feel like the past \u2013 King Canute ordering back the sea. We\u2019re a tide washing towards something brighter &#8211; life always wins out. My eyes are wide and I must look medicated, but I\u2019ve gone sane, fallen well and am breaking on the beach of a bigger vision. The borders disintegrate.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026\u2026&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong>The Disowned Body<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<ul>\n<li><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong> <\/strong><strong>June 2000 &#8211; Leeds, UK<\/strong><\/span><\/li>\n<\/ul>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong> <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">The classroom is like all the others I have spent the last 17 years in &#8211; square, dead and dull. This is the culmination of a Western education &#8211; a presentation of a psychology dissertation on yet another grey rainy day. I\u2019m standing out the front for a change and I see my course-mates looking back, the life having been almost entirely squeezed out of their ashen faces and limp disowned bodies. They\u2019re a good enough bunch, they\u2019ve just been taught to be in their heads since they were kids and now apparently we\u2019re all done and ready for the world. I jump with sarcastic joy. Not literally of course.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">One face looks very different however, my best friend Rachel&#8217;s in the front row. She\u2019s beaming, her face as ever framed by her bouncy long dark hair &#8211; she holds the happy hopeful part of us. Her eyes are bright and body full of vigor from all the dancing, hugging and loving. I think she likes me in my suit &#8211; normally I\u2019m scruffy, hungover and barely washed but today I thought I\u2019 make an effort just to be radical. It\u2019s partly because I like messing with expectations and partly because I don\u2019t want what I have to say to be ignored because of my normal appearance. Her smile lights me up and gives me confidence.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I grin like a fox that just stole your dinner and begin my presentation on \u201cthe psychology of aikido and the meaning it has in practitioners lives\u201d. Leeds is a typical UK academic psychology department and talking about meaning and embodied practices is not normal here. It\u2019s taboo in fact. People have already started to look confused. My the time I\u2019ve shared some beautiful pictures, a poem and suggested people pay attention to their posture while listening the audience are actually scratching their heads like bemused robot cartoon characters. No it\u2019s not in there&#8230;that\u2019s my point.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">The people in front of me aren\u2019t aware of their bodies &#8211; why would they be, they don\u2019t see them as relevant. As one PhD friend said to me, \u201cMy body is just a cart that carries my head around.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I go on to talk about the embodied learning so missing for the educational system, how people find aikido and other embodied practices so enriching as a result, make a passionate case for how this type of knowing is needed in the world describing the things that can go wrong when it\u2019s not. Someone asks to see my statistics. Rachel put her head in her hands for a moment, shakes her hair and then goes back to smiling at me. I\u2019m give it all that I\u2019ve got and it\u2019s clearly not landing &#8211; impassive blank gazes stare back at me like cows who have been shown a Kandinsky. It\u2019s not that these guys are\u2019t clever &#8211; they\u2019re too clever in fact &#8211; it\u2019s that I\u2019m speaking another language. I\u2019m on about another kind of clever. I feel depressed, there\u2019s a smattering of applause like a emphysema sufferers last breath and I go sit down. Rachel gives me a hug, a wet kiss on the cheek and my tense shoulders a little squeeze.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I wonder where I can go now, the job\u2019s fair last month was even worse. Just as disembodied and with values I couldn\u2019t relate to. I left in tears after speaking to people who thought they could buy my life for trinkets. I\u2019m heading off backpacking for a bit in South America, then maybe head down to Brighton and see what\u2019s going on down there, I hear it\u2019s a little more alive and the aikido\u2019s good. Maybe I\u2019ll work with kids again, I like how vibrant they are, but to be honest the future looks pretty bleak, more cerebral concrete-grey getting by&#8230;<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;..<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong>The Body of Love<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong>&#8211; February 27 1996, Long Road 6th-Form College, Cambridge UK<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong> <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">A golden sun is sinking as we walk hand in hand into the little patch of woodland tucked behind our college. Light is shining through the trees and through us. Her hand is soft and alive feeling into me. We leave the functional modernist classrooms behind &#8211; square boxes of nothing.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">We spend a long time just standing close appreciating each other through the heart and the senses. Both nervous and awestruck. I nestle my face in her long dark hair, smelling the blossom and time is nothing.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">It\u2019s the first day of spring and we kiss our first kiss. It\u2019s not like anything I\u2019ve experienced. Sally\u2019s my first love, my true love &#8211; the love of my life. I hold her as the most precious, beautiful person in the world. I lose where she ends and I begin.\u00a0 No bodily borders, no embodied boundaries &#8211; we dissolve into each other. Lose myself, gain the rest. One taste.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">There\u2019s light shining out of us and it\u2019s good. I\u2019m alive for the first time in my life. Life life life life life &#8211; gushing through our bodies. I feel whole, unified, with her, myself and the divine \u2013 a stranger no longer. I\u2019m home. I disappear.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I can\u2019t express it, words are too crude\u00a0 This is a forever dream. Love.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">\u2026\u2026\u2026&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;&#8230;..<\/span><\/p>\n<p>&nbsp;<\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong>The Body of Choice<\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\"><strong> &#8211; 1st September, 2004, Devon, UK <\/strong><\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I look out of the door of my cabin in the woods to a sodden, English morning.\u00a0 Raindrops sag from the trees outside like the breasts of obese women; or overworked men in armchairs, apathetic from defeat.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I\u2019ve managed to drag my hungover corpse out of bed &#8211; every poisoned cell is telling me to get right back in though. Outside looks about as inviting as a kick in the head from Bruce Lee. I need paracetamol, 8 hours more sleep and 5 pints of orange juice. I don\u2019t feel like leaving the comfort of this womb to go out <em>there<\/em>: but I know I need to, and badly. Back is a ind of death no matter how appealing.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I\u2019ve been working at Barton Hall Outdoor Activity Centre for the past two summers, and with the company that owns it for two years on and off before that. It\u2019s an English stately home surrounded by holiday chalets. It\u2019s normally populated by 600 visiting school children and nestled in rolling green hills and classic English forest.\u00a0 With its laughing youngsters and scampering wildlife it\u2019s an inch from heaven. With its restrictive rules, Victorian working hours and canteen slop it\u2019s an inch from hell. I give a grunt of a laugh &#8211; at the end of the upcoming journey I\u2019m guessing I\u2019ll have a new standard for those two places.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I\u2019ve been a \u201cmulti-activity instructor\u201d here, along with about 100 other young people.\u00a0 We teach the kids teamwork, leadership, adventure sports and environmental studies, a through the body, movement and games. In the little time we have off we play harder than coked-up pirates sailing the last days of the world. During the day we\u2019re the brightly uniformed care-bear, educators and role models, at night we drink and fuck till Bacus blushes.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Living here\u2019s been lots of fun.\u00a0 It\u2019s an island away from the real world\u2122.\u00a0 I\u2019ve hidden out here and places like it, over the last few years since University. It\u2019s a job and a life. The food, money and hours suck monkey balls, but the work\u2019s satisfying, and as I mentioned &#8211; the social life\u2019s colourful.\u00a0 I\u2019ve got comfortable here though \u2013 got good at what I do, and despite a few problems with the management (i.e. my attitude) I\u2019ve even been promoted. But there\u2019s an incestuous claustrophobia, an inward looking prison-camp feel \u2013 everyone complains about it, and many leave. In fact, dissatisfaction is a fine art in the company \u2013 they know how many instructors to hire so the bell curve drops off in line with the falling numbers of guests in the school holidays and autumn.\u00a0 It\u2019s running you down as capitalist efficacy \u2013 if staff didn\u2019t want to leave the wage bill would soon be too high.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">The beautiful vegan design student I was seeing left a month ago because she couldn\u2019t stand the food and the crap. That was a real shame \u2013 I liked her a lot, but we were at different stages in life.\u00a0 She was on her way to study art at University and I\u2018m done with school.\u00a0 With her long dark hair and dolphin back she was too beautiful for me anyway really, and I knew that when she left she wouldn\u2019t look back.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">We all stay in a relationship, jobs or whatever, long after we know when enough\u2019s enough. People are too sacred to walk out of open cages.\u00a0 Sometimes people have kids to feed and debts to pay, so maybe they\u2019re <em>really<\/em> trapped, but mostly it\u2019s an stupid illusion. It\u2019s just a lack of non-monkey balls and people resent you if you still have them. When I\u2019m traveling and staying at dojos between work seasons, I meet people daily who hate me for making the choice they won\u2019t. It underlines their cowardice. Society\u2019s built on the shiny idea of freedom, not the reality of it. Easy Rider 101.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">So I\u2019m on the edge of the cage door again. This is the hard bit. My old rucksack, hastily packed, battered from continual traveling is at my side.\u00a0 I haven\u2019t put it on yet and really don\u2019t have to. I could go back to bed, see the boss later and tell him I\u2019ve changed my mind and I\u2019m staying till winter.\u00a0 \u201cNo problem Mark, you\u2019re always welcome here (just don\u2019t rock the boat again)\u201d.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I do what the clich\u00e9 recommends not to do and look back.\u00a0 There\u2019s a bundle of curves and golden hair half covered by my duvet.\u00a0 Like a dormouse she\u2019s squirming and reaching out in her sleep to my side of the bed. She\u2019s making small groaning noises which are really very cute. She\u2019s not the woman I love but she\u2019s a good friend and the words \u201csoft\u201d and \u201cwarm\u201d come to mind when I look at her.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">The centre\u2019s deathly quiet, today being one of the few \u201ckids-free\u201d days, and as a result last night\u2019s party being of Gomorrahic proportions. The mist and rain outside mingle forming the one season that comes and goes when it pleases in England \u2013 acceptable apathy, resignation and quietly damp complaint. Here on the south-west coast the sun will probably come up before my hungover friends, and burn through the mist for a pleasant enough coffee on the hillside. But right now it\u2019s 5.45 am and decision time.\u00a0 Who are these weird Yank aikido people anyway?<em> <\/em>I don\u2019t know them?<em> Training Across Borders?<\/em> Crossing<em> \u201cGreen Lines\u201d? <\/em>It sounds stupid and dangerous!<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I posted a note on the internet a few months back saying that I would be going to Cyprus for my sister\u2019s wedding next year and did anyone know of any aikido clubs there?\u00a0 (I like to practice my hobby when I travel to meet local people.) This was passed on by about ten people until it ended up on the Mac of Don Levine at the University of Chicago. I remember the mail from Don popping up on my screen one night in the labs here. It was like a magic jewel from the future, or a secret treasure map. In the pictures Don is like a Gandolf or an Obi Wan, face weathered an old, wrinkles like ravines but eyes sparkling light a naughty kids. I stared at the e-mail and held my breath for at least 10 minutes before I opened it. OK, maybe not ten minutes, but long enough to feel the pterodactyls in my stomach do a few turns.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I\u2019ve heard his name as he was President of a non-profit organization called Aiki Extensions, but he was a big-shot and I\u2019d never had contact with him before. AE applied the principles of my beloved aikido to \u201coff-mat\u201d situations. It was an international network of people who used the martial art as tool for harmony, rather than as an end in itself. I did my psychology dissertation on a similar theme some years ago, just before AE was established, so it was right up my street.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Since I started aikido in \u201897 much of my energy has gone into it, and it\u2019s much more than a hobby really. I\u2019ve been traveling since I graduated, mainly working with children for a living, which I also care a lot about. Aikido has been my other passion in that time \u2013 a golden thread running through a whirlwind flotsam life. Wherever I travel I pack my gi (aikido pajamas \u2013 pro.\u201dgee\u201d) and bokken (wooden sword sometimes used in aikido). I\u2019ve trained all over the UK, in South America, Ireland, Denmark and Italy. Aikido is an international community and it\u2019s great having something in common with people, even if you can\u2019t speak their language. The idea of Training Across Borders struck a skull with me as soon as I heard about it and I became an ardent supporter.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">People in aikido talked about peace and love, it was part of the new-age philosophy that sometimes went along with it, but for most it was just lip-service. Here were a group actually embodying something worthwhile and interesting with aikido and I could be a part of it. I\u2019d always seen aikido as more than just twisting arms and throwing people around, and now I was in contact with the experts who felt the same way. The British Isles had lots of technically goods aikido, but it often lacked this broader perspective \u2013 I\u2019d traveled the length and breadth of the UK for the last eight years searching, and felt like I was unfortunately one of the most knowledgeable in \u201capplied aikido\u201d around these parts.\u00a0 By this I should stress that I don\u2019t mean my aikido was any good, I could get my arse kicked in any major town (aikido takes a lifetime to get good at and doesn\u2019t rely on the athleticism of youth) \u2013 but that the side of it I was interested in wasn\u2019t that developed in my part of the world.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Don and I got chatting by e-mail and it became apparent that AE after steady growth through conferences in the US and Germany, was planning its first big project in Cyprus. There had been talk of an Israeli\/Arab get together in Turkey last year but that had fallen through after some comments about nuclear weapons on the web and a Turkish government intervention. AE had almost given up at that point but had decided to have one last crack at it in Cyprus \u2013 another neutral venue &#8211; but this time backed by the UN.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Looking through the organizers my name was appropriately bottom of an extremely impressive list. UN General such and such, Professor blah, Sensei (Japanese for teacher) X, etc. Richard Strozzi Heckler and Paul Linden were in there, the world leaders in the field I was reinventing the heard way in the UK. I\u2019d grown up in aikido reading their books. Richard\u2019s taught aikido to US Special Forces, co-founded a school of bodywork and a leadership academy; and had been made famous in aikido circles by an article describing his black belt test in near mystical terms. He was in my eyes, THE Man and as he was co directing this project with Professor Levine, I would get to meet him.\u00a0 This was extremely exciting to me though in the back of my mind was a curse I\u2019d once had aimed at me, \u201cMay you meet you heroes and may your dreams come true.\u201d<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Over the last few months the scope of Training Across Borders had widened and I got mind blowing e-mails every day. When I heard the Iraqi\u2019s were coming, I had two thoughts:\u00a0 1. Cool!\u00a0 2. Shit!\u00a0 It sounded like it was going to be one tyranochallenge, and even sitting behind a keyboard in Devon I felt out of my depth. Wobbling now, reestablishing the exact angle of up every few seconds, my confidence wasn\u2019t exactly high.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Through the post Stella\/vodka haze I have a moment of clarity \u2013 This is the point where you have to extend yourself Walsh. This is where you have to say a quick prayer, jump into the abyss and hope God or fate or whatever takes care of things.\u00a0 Gotta leave home to find it.\u00a0 Gotta leave what\u2019s comfortable to grow. If you do what you\u2019ve always done, you\u2019ll get what you\u2019ve always got.\u00a0 You\u2019ve always landed on your feet before Mark&#8230;All that cliched crap.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">My sister had decided that she would like to get married in Cyprus.\u00a0 God knows why \u2013 maybe the romantic Aphrodite thing, maybe to escape the rain and irritating distant relatives, who knows? It was her day anyway so she could do what she liked as far as I was concerned. She\u2019d been engaged for years to a guy called Paul. I liked him \u2013 a solid Northern bloke, and aside from being a Manchester United supporter he was a good man who treated her well. They hooked up at my \u201cShiny Touchy Feely Party\u201d (don\u2019t\u2019 ask) in Leeds while I was a student. She danced on a wall with my best friend Rachel and that was that.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">The reason they\u2019d been engaged for over six years was party lack of money I think, but also to do with my parents.\u00a0 Mum Dad had gone through a nasty divorce not long after Marianne and Paul\u2019s engagement, and it had messed everyone up some. Marianne had had serious rows with Paul \u2013 lost her faith in marriage I guess \u2013 and I\u2019d hit the bottle harder than a George Best birthday bash. I almost failed my university finals but luckily had aikido and used that and the support of good friends to get back on track. Despite my head this morning I\u2019m way better these days, I owe aikido my life. She almost lost her man, but bounced back too. People are resilient \u2013 even (big) kids.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">Marianne and I were always pretty close \u2013 well since I decided that hitting girls was wrong at age 10\u00a0 &#8211; by age 12 she\u2019d stopped hitting me too \u2013 and now we\u2019re really tight. I\u2019d decided that while I didn\u2019t see her as often as I would have liked with work and travel \u2013 I could support this wedding now that it was finally happening. I\u2019d gotten a job for another activity company I worked with sometimes in Cyprus in October \u2013 my reasoning was to get a couple of days off and check of Marianne\u2019s arrangements \u2013 I was kinda concerned to be honest as she\u2019d booked most of it online and it sounded like a bit of a gamble.\u00a0 In the end the work got moved to Tunisia for no good reason but by that time I was involved with Training Across Borders so decided to go to Cyprus anyway &#8211; sometimes you gotta follow the signs and make a choice. I\u2019d help Marianne and some guy called Phil Emminger who was the project\u2019s manager. I couldn\u2019t really afford too \u2013 Cyprus didn\u2019t sound cheap and the flight was over a month\u2019s wages \u2013 but it didn\u2019t matter.\u00a0 I just knew I was doing the right thing. An opportunity to help my only sister just happens to coincide with an event that represents exactly what I believe in &#8211; obvious really. Sometimes I refind the river running through my life that I loose track of with all of the busy world\u2019s bullshit. It\u2019s easy to ignore the flow, especially as from the banks safety its rapids look scary, but to do so is a kind of death. Some decisions give you some major hints they need to be made, but you\u2019ve still got to make them.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I hoist my bag.\u00a0 Under the weight and self-inflicted chemical warfare \u2013 I feel like a diseased snail. I haven\u2019t worn the pack in six months and it\u2019s awkward, but I know that \u201cthis too shall pass\u201d. I take a deep breath \u2013 aikido\u2019s best technique maybe &#8211; relax and the bag sinks onto my hips where it belongs. This is the life that I\u2019ve chosen \u2013 how many people can honestly say that.\u00a0 I\u2019m Frank Sinatra and I\u2019m singing in the rain.<\/span><\/p>\n<p><span style=\"font-size: small;\">I grumble a little song and hop out of the door into the river.<\/span><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>Fighting Frontiers &#8211; Illustrative Narrative Extracts from The Body and Leadership &nbsp; Introduction This is a story about conflict and the search for peace.\u00a0 It\u2019s about movement, division and union. It\u2019s a true story about dreams and a dream of a true story. While living it I went insane, got beaten-up over a thousand times and was drunk out of my skull for the first half of it; so please don\u2019t get upset if I misspelt your name. The story journeys through years and continents, sex and violence. Its heart is the body, the strange martial art of aikido and <\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"spay_email":"","jetpack_publicize_message":"","jetpack_is_tweetstorm":false,"jetpack_publicize_feature_enabled":true},"categories":[110],"tags":[1071,1182,1230,1293,1462,1490,1784],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","jetpack_publicize_connections":[],"jetpack_sharing_enabled":true,"jetpack_shortlink":"https:\/\/wp.me\/p9xvDN-rd","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1687"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=1687"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/1687\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=1687"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=1687"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.integrationtraining.co.uk\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=1687"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}