I have now begun my second week at Oakland Aikido, and now doing so as a member of the dojo. It looks like your boi is back in training, and I could not be more thrilled. Even though I am only 3 training sessions in so far, my stamina and wind are returning. My fellow classmates even noticed after Monday’s session that I was taking less frequent and shorter breaks for water or just catching my breath. During my long illness and recovery, I had to learn to listen closely to my body and its needs. This seems to be serving me well as I return to the mat.

Joining a dojo with a different style and lineage than I originally learned and earned my shodan (1^st degree black belt) in is a challenging proposition. While my body is “remembering” the Aikido I had learned, I am still a student at my new dojo, and am making an effort to comport myself to what is taught there.

What is old, is new again

In Monday’s class, I learned a new form of a shomenuchi attack (overhead strike).  It seems like a small thing, but it is a shift in the different emphasis in the style I know and the style I am learning. Maybe it is a small thing, but something from my original teacher John Smartt seems apropos; he would posit, “Do the little things make a difference?” then answering the question he would say, “absolutely not! They make ALL the difference!”

Cultivate Newb Mind

My new home dojo is a young dojo, and its students are beginners. And even though my first Aikido lesson was in 1989, and I was an instructor in 2003, in many ways I am a beginner again. I am not a Zen Buddhist, but I have many Zen leanings, and one of Zen’s maxims is to have a beginner’s mind. That is, a mind open to possibilities. And this is also one of my struggles in class. I often see so many opportunities for techniques that “feel right” that I have to be mindful and practice what is actually being demonstrated and taught. In a way, I need to temporarily forget my expertise, and train in the role of a beginner.

Practicing Social Wellness

When the COVID-19 Pandemic hit stateside in early 2020, I was suffering the effects of a rare autoimmune disease, Dermatomyositis, and though it would take years to find the marker, it was comorbid with Anti-Synthetase Syndrome, which was causing my immune system to attack my lungs, causing pulmonary fibrosis.  In the early weeks of lockdown, my lung disease progressed to the point of needing supplemental oxygen at all times.

Trying to slow down the effects of my autoimmune disorders, I was on immunosuppressive medications, and so was immunocompromised.  Before there were vaccines, it was paramount that I isolate, because with my advanced  Interstitial Lung Disease and weakened immune system, a COVID infection would be a certain death sentence.

So began what was years of isolation.  My weekly D&D game? No longer. Visiting the local Makerspace? Not an option.  Once there were vaccines and tests, I could have cautious visits from friends, where we stayed masked out of an abundance of caution.

 After my transplant, I still had to remain isolated.  I spent almost a year in a skilled nursing facility, and the weeks that there wasn’t an active COVID-19 outbreak there I can count on the fingers of one hand and have most of my fingers left over. So, I stayed in my room and still caught COVID twice, needing to be hospitalized and receiving monoclonal antibodies.

So, isolation had become a habit. In the Spring and early Summer of 2026, in the throes of a depression, I just isolated myself further and stopped doing things I enjoyed. As I came out of it at the end of July, I made a concerted effort to address this.  Aikido training seemed like a good opportunity.

That César San Miguel has founded a COVID-conscious dojo (perhaps the only one in the world?)  has made it possible for me to find community in an Aikido dojo again.  And a wonderful, welcoming community it is. Two students are trying to make a social event after Monday classes by sharing a meal at a nearby roadside burger joint, and as the dojo’s newest member, they treated me to a burger and a shake after class.  (I will in the future try to budget burger money on Monday’s) Being able to sit outside, it was a safe way to be social while immunocompromised. And I believe that social wellness is an aspect of training as well and I am grateful to my classmates for the opportunity to practice.

Community Care

One of the hallmarks of Oakland Aikido is their culture of care. It’s not only prevalent in the physical techniques of Aikido are applied, or how ukemi is taught, but also in making the dojo as safe an environment as possible in every manner. From its nondiscrimination policy in the dojo’s code of conduct to requiring precautions against infection.  I am not the only immunocompromised student at this dojo. César really has created a space to train in Aikido where elsewhere would be more risky.  For this I am both grateful, and in awe of how much this aligns with a central principle of Aikido, non-injury that it saddens me this is the exception and not the norm.

 Leaving the past, living the present.

One of the most difficult things about living with a chronic, terminal illness was the loss of my ability. I remember riding my skateboard down the street to see a friend, and realizing it was the last time I would ride that skateboard.  The weakening of muscles, the shortness of breath over time took more and more ability from me.  For the past four and a half years, I have been learning what a post-transplant body is capable of. 

Now, back on the Aikido mat, I need to be able to let go of what my body used to be capable of when I had both youth and health. In many ways, I am training with a new body. I have the lungs of my donor in my chest, I have muscles that have been weakened by dermatomyositis. It is unrealistic to think I will have the same ability from before my illness.  I need to unlearn what my ability used to be, and learn what my new ability can be. But now with transplanted lungs, and my autoimmune illnesses in remission, I also have to unlearn what I was limited by, and learn not just what recovery looks like but rather what it can look like.

Aikido is many things, but among them, it is a vehicle for self-improvement. It is my experience that the practice of Aikido has a kind of holistic training where not only is my body healthier, but my mood is improved. The philosophical aspects of the art tend to get me intellectually engaged. The mindfulness I must have in the dojo seems to carry over to other aspects of my life outside the dojo. Though Aikido only has what mysticism you bring to it, I feel that regular Aikido practice polishes my spirit. But more about that at a later time.

My second week of my return to regular Aikido training is in the books.  Until next time, お願いします! (Onegaishimasu “I look forward to working with you”)