Energy

I was studying Akido with a teacher who said very little but felt vitally connected to all of us students, gently and kindly suggesting small shifts in the way we were moving with almost no words. During a break, one man, as tall as our teacher but much heavier, began telling us how much weight he could lift. I saw our teacher watch. As the man talked, he looked at me, easily the shortest and smallest person in the class, as if to accentuate his strength and my weakness. I felt uncomfortable but remembered what our teacher said to do when we felt challenged—to breathe. I guess it helped a little.

When break was over, our teacher said we were going to learn about strength, would anyone volunteer. The man who’d boasted about how strong he was said, “Sure. I’ll do it.”

Our teacher thanked him and asked him to put out his arm. The man did. “Now I’ll try to move your arm down.” The teacher could hardly move the arm. The man grinned, as if silently boasting about his strength. The teacher tried a few times, never able to move the arm much although we could see he was trying.

Our teacher asked the man, “Would you be willing for Nancy to try?” The man laughed at the absurdity of me being able to do something our teacher couldn’t. The man agreed, shaking his head. “Is it all right if Nancy gently touches your torso from your heart to your belt?” The man nodded. Our teacher showed me on himself what he wanted me to do. 

Confused, and full of trepidation, prepared to be laughed at, I went over to the man and gently touched his torso, starting with his heart and moving to his belt. Three times. “Now,” our teacher said to the man, “lift your arm and Nancy will try to lower it.”

Oy! How did I agree to do such a thing. Still, with all eyes on me I tried to lower his arm. Much to my astonishment, to the man’s astonishment, to the class’s astonishment, but not to our teacher’s astonishment, I easily lowered his arm. 

“Try again!” ordered the man, using visible strength to keep me from lowering his arm. Once again, I easily moved it down. How was this possible? 

I looked at the teacher whose face was impassive, standing quietly, as if waiting for the explosion of unasked but felt, questions. I couldn’t help myself. “How is this possible?” I asked him. “There’s no way I’m stronger than you.”

Our teacher smiled, ignored my question, and asked me to touch the man in the reverse direction three times, then he asked the man to hold out his arm. “Now, Nancy, try to pull down the man’s arm. He was so strong I lifted myself off the ground trying to lower his arm. Impossible.

We stared at our teacher. The man asked, “How could I have strength, then no strength, then strength? I did my best to keep Nancy from being able to lower my arm and I couldn’t, then I could.”

“It’s not about strength,” said our teacher, ‘it’s about energy. When Nancy moved her arm down your torso, she took away vital energy. When she moved her arm up your torso, she restored your energy.” We were all staring at him, maybe all of them feeling the disbelief I felt. “Go ahead, try this on each other.”

We did. Same results. Moving body energy affected ability. Every time.

How have you experienced energy in your body?