Centering
May, 1992
Mark J. Norton
Westbrook and Ratti in their book, "Secrets of the Samurai" discuss the pursuit of
haragei (the perfect center) in Japanese society. The seeking of "the center" has
long been a pursuit in Asian cultures, and is continued by the Japanese in practices
like Zen, Budo, and certain forms of government (samurai bureaucrats). The authors describe
three levels of centrality: personal, societal, and universal.
Personal centrality has to do with balance and inner harmony. The centralized person
has come to understand his body and its needs. He trusts his own reflexes to be
correct in all situations. From this inner calmness, he is able to move rapidly,
and decisively. Externally, the person is heavy, hard to move,. When he walks, he glides
along the floor and is hard to stop. In combat, great amounts of energy can be generated
with explosive, overwhelming force.
To be self-centered is only the first level of attainment, however. When two or more
people come together, a new center is formed. Social units can be harmonized, too.
This is characterized by groups which are peaceful, yet vital. A couple work together in harmony grow together. A team combines its talents to create something
new. All know their position instinctively and do what's needed. A nation charts
a new course towards higher civilization. Societal centralization can happen naturally,
but is very rare. Usually, some leader causes individuals to blend together to form
a greater whole. This leader applies techniques like Aikido on a social level.
The social force in this case is called charisma. Men in this category might include
John Kennedy, Mahatma Ghandi, Martin Luthor, and many others.
Finally, it is possible that there exists a point of universal centralism. At some
abstract point there is perfect balance in natural at large. Forces cancel out.
Life counteracts entropy. New things are created, old ones die out. In theory,
if a man could come to centralize himself with nature, he would be in perfect accord with all
that surrounds him. His actions are appropriate to the balance of nature. It is
also possible that such a man would be capable of what others would deem magic.
He would be capable of nudging the forces of nature in ways that lesser folk (such as you and
I) could not comprehend. If you doubt this, watch a naive spectator of Aikido sometime.
Much of what we do, he considers to be magical.
Having read and thought about this from Westbrook and Ratti, it seems to explain something
that has long puzzled me. How is it that someone can become quite adept at Aikido
and not embrace its larger philosophy of love? In the terms define here, a man may come to centralize himself, without any concept of a social center. To become
internally balanced does not necessarily mean that a man's actions will be to the
greater good. I have personally met people in Aikido with mean spirits, who occasionally
(or often) take delight in hurting others, frustrating them, or confusing them. These
people are often stronger than myself, more balanced, and hard to move. They can
have very good technique and be powerful martial artists.
Without striving to be socially central, however, they doom themselves to a kind of
crippled lifestyle. They do not get along with others and foster ill-will in those
they meet. They tend to be loners, with few or no close friends. They take twisted
people as lovers, or warp an innocent to their needs. They have become lost on the
path, and will never reach its lofty goals.