In our previous two articles, we delved deep into the "Aikido Bermuda Triangle": first, we examined the reasons why enthusiastic inquirers often don't even make it to the first training session, and then in the second article, "Beyond the First Training," we explored the unique dynamics that apply in a specific aikido style for complete beginners and advanced practitioners coming from other systems. In this concluding part, we focus on solutions, encouragement, and practical steps. We will talk about how a hesitant inquirer can approach their fears, why it is worth persevering on the path of aikido, what strategies instructors can use to support beginners, and what values a dojo represents that does not just collect "clients".
It is worth pausing for a moment to reflect on the phenomenon that many masters who have been teaching martial arts for a long time may have noticed: it is as if the "dice have been turned". In the past, the prospective student felt honored to be admitted to a dojo and appreciated the opportunity. Today, we often have the feeling that we are offering the best opportunities on a platter, and we, the instructors, should be happy if someone chooses to apply to us from among the many available options.
This shift in perspective can be linked to the general patterns of consumer society, where "service" and "customer experience" have come to the forefront. However, a dojo based on traditional values – where education is fundamentally not about money, but about passing on knowledge, experience, and the spirit of martial arts – rests on different foundations. If finances are not the primary motivation, the instructor is not forced to collect "clients" at all costs. This gives them the freedom to focus on values such as mutual respect, perseverance, and genuine commitment.
It is also important to understand that introducing a completely new person to the basics requires a great deal of resources from the instructor and often from the more advanced students as well. Teaching the basic movements, etiquette, safe falls, and providing personalized attention consumes much more energy and time than maintaining or further developing an already practicing student. Therefore, for a value-based dojo, it is not necessarily "profitable" (neither in time, nor in energy, nor in terms of the long-term goals of community building) to deal with those who just "dip their toes in" for a short time with no serious intention and then disappear after a few months. Furthermore, the teaching of aikido and qigong by its very nature requires a training system that is built on each other and allows for gradual progress. These are not forms of movement where regularity matters less, or where a missed session can be easily made up. A stable mastery of the basics is essential for further development, and every new technique, every deeper understanding is built on what has been learned before. Therefore, irregular attendance not only hinders the student's own development, but also makes it difficult for the instructor to transfer knowledge effectively and coherently. The instructor invests their personal energy, time, and knowledge in each student, and it is a natural demand that this investment be reciprocated in a committed, aspiring practitioner, who respects the learning process.
Perhaps applicants should also understand this kind of reciprocity and value system: such a dojo does not simply provide a service, but offers an opportunity for a common path, in exchange for which it expects commitment and respect. This does not work on the "customer is always right" principle, but is based on the master-student relationship and the values of the community.
Perhaps you recognized yourself in some of the situations or feelings described above? Have you ever felt that huge initial enthusiasm for something new, followed by an incomprehensible anxiety or procrastination, even if you have already taken serious steps towards it (such as planning to buy an aikido gi or even buying it)?
If so, you are not alone. This is a very human phenomenon. Starting new things, especially a path as complex and demanding as aikido, can be truly daunting. Questions may arise in you:
In one of my blog posts, I write that before you apply, "10 years of meditation" is necessary – suggesting that true determination requires deep self-reflection, an honest assessment of motivations and fears. It is not about scaring anyone away, but rather about encouraging a kind of inner preparation.
Before you pick up the phone, or give up on an opportunity you have been thinking about for a long time, it is worth pausing for a moment and honestly facing yourself:
There is nothing wrong with someone finally deciding not to start. But perhaps if you honestly think through these questions and take a few small steps to manage your fears, you will get closer to making a decision that is truly yours, and not dictated by unspoken fears or momentary moods. Self-awareness can be the first step towards a more conscious and courageous decision – whether it leads to the aikido tatami or to another path.
Although starting can be challenging, and the lines above may have highlighted the difficulties, it is also important to talk about why it is worth persevering and overcoming the initial obstacles. The path of aikido, like that of many other martial arts or activities requiring serious commitment, offers many gifts to those who take on the challenge:
Aikido not only develops physical fitness and coordination, but also has a deep effect on the mental state. Breathing exercises, concentration, and conscious movement help in managing stress and finding inner peace. There are some who find this inner flow, that certain "flow" feeling during practice so much that they spend hours at home refining their movements, simply because – as one of our dedicated, experienced fellow practitioners puts it – "he loves this feeling."
Mastering techniques and overcoming physical and mental limitations increases self-confidence. The experiences gained in training hold up a mirror to us, helping us to better understand ourselves, to recognize our strengths and weaknesses.
Regular practice teaches discipline and perseverance, qualities that are useful in all areas of life.
The basic principles of aikido – seeking harmony, redirecting the opponent's force, non-resistance – can provide a new perspective on handling everyday conflicts as well.
A good dojo means a supportive, cohesive community where friendships can be forged and where members help each other to develop. This feeling of belonging somewhere where you are accepted and supported is of inestimable value.
Aikido and other similar paths requiring deep practice (such as qigong) offer a journey on which there is always room for improvement. For many of us, practice is not just physical exercise or the acquisition of technical knowledge, but a kind of creative process, a striving for a kind of physical and inner harmony that can be compared to a beautiful piece of music or a dance performance. When we see a master's perfect movement, it can truly give us goosebumps, and this quality inspires us on our own path. This opportunity for continuous learning and self-transcendence can provide constant motivation and a sense of accomplishment.
So, although taking the first steps can sometimes seem daunting, beyond the tatami a world may await that can make your life richer, more balanced, and more conscious.
Although there are no magic bullets, and it is clear that even the most careful preparation and most attractive offers (like a free month and a friendly atmosphere) are not always enough to break through deep-rooted internal barriers, the following strategies can help create a supportive environment:
It is important to realize that these strategies primarily target the external environment and communication. They help to reduce misunderstandings, alleviate external pressure, and create a friendly atmosphere. However, the instructor's best intentions and efforts cannot replace the lack of internal motivation, that is, the individual's own deep-seated "desire to want it." The dojo provides the opportunity, the support, and the knowledge, but to cross the threshold and start on the path is ultimately always up to the individual.
The phenomenon of the "enthusiastic absentee" is complex, and rarely a personal attack on the instructor or the art. It is much more the result of processes rooted deep in human psychology, where internal motivation, the strength of the personal "why," and various, often hidden, fears and anxieties clash. This can be further nuanced by the social changes of the modern era, especially in the post-pandemic period, such as the increased comfort of home and a screen-centered lifestyle, which can increase the barriers to activities requiring real, personal presence. The path of commitment is unique, and practitioners from different backgrounds (complete beginners or advanced practitioners from other styles) face different challenges and opportunities.
As an instructor, patience, empathy, and an understanding of the possible reasons can help us to more effectively support inquirers in taking the first, often most difficult, steps, and to build a value-based community that emphasizes mutual respect and genuine development. A friendly, encouraging word or a well-timed gesture can sometimes work wonders – but true determination and perseverance must come from within the individual.
Have you experienced something similar in your own dojo or in another area? What strategies have worked for you in encouraging and retaining beginners? How do you handle the integration of students from different backgrounds (complete beginner vs. advanced)?
What finally helped you cross the threshold and get started? What were your fears, and how did you overcome them? If you are already practicing, what keeps you on the path?
What are your thoughts on the psychological reasons or social phenomena raised in the article?