Only Two (or more) Right Ways

I started building a small terraced garden yesterday behind the south-side wall of the garage where I am starting to live. The ground slopes down gradually from east to west, about five feet over the twenty-foot run, but the siding on the wall steps down (and up) in three increments. I thought about just outlining a sloping garden there but then had the bright idea that it would look better to make some terraces that would repeat the steps of the siding (and hide more of the concrete).

When I begin a project, I rarely have a clear picture in mind of where I am going to end up. I used to envy people who seemed to know exactly what they are doing and where they are going. But then I realized that 1) most people actually don’t know what they are doing, even if they speak and act with great confidence, and 2) even the people who do know can end up quite wrong. I’ve had genuine experts offer various and contradictory opinions about the same problem.

When I studied Aikido, a Japanese martial art of self-defense, there were two Aikido Masters who taught the simplest and most basic move in diametrically opposed ways. The move, called tenkan, is a simple pivot and is usually practiced with the uke (attacker) grabbing the wrist of the nage (thrower) which is extended with the foot of the same side. (e.g. right hand and right foot forward) The nage then pivots on their front foot until they are side-by-side with the uke, all the time keeping their hand in front of their torso.

This simple move changes the relationship from face-to-face conflict to side-by-side collaboration, and if, as nage, you’ve kept your hand in front of your center, the uke is off-balance and you can easily extend forward and ‘throw’ your partner. (DISCLAIMER – do not try this with your partner at home as they may not be amused.) As an aspiring Aikido student, you do this over and over until your wrists get sore from the friction of being grabbed and then breaking free.

The disagreement between these two teachers was that one thought this simple move should be done with concentrated energy. He taught that, in doing this move, you should imagine energy flowing through your arm and out your fingers, extending this energy throughout the move. The other teacher taught that the key is looseness. He said not to focus on the hand but to keep everything in alignment during the move and allow the whole body to be relaxed and in a state of enjoyment.

Who was right? Each teacher was aware of and rather dismissive of the other’s position. Each would demonstrate the move in the ‘correct’ manner, then have a student try the other teacher’s method, which, of course, wouldn’t work at all. Physical reality seemed to shift depending on the views and teaching of the teacher.

At first, I was troubled by two masters directly disagreeing with each other and teaching contradictory techniques. But over the years, I have come to appreciate the creative and fungible aspect of reality. Not just Aikido Masters, but each of us participates in creating the world that in which we live. Our beliefs, assumptions, experiences, perceptions, thoughts, and actions all swirl together with everything we encounter to create what we call our ‘life’. It is (and we are) not a thing that can ever be fully described or understood. Any technique or teaching is only a provisional suggestion that may or may not apply to the current situation. You and I are ongoing processes that are constantly coming into being, maintaining, and falling away. Whatever worked yesterday may or may not work today.

But back to my intended terraced garden behind the garage. It’s 20% done and I’m now at the head-scratching place—stepping back considering proportions, available materials, and the myriad necessary decisions that were hidden from me in the vagueness of my good idea. I’m still hopeful that I can learn enough and be responsive as I go to create a simple terraced garden that rests easy with the garage wall behind it and brings a small portion of delight to me and others who may wander by.