This sensation that we call pain in Aikido is something that has always been a source of intellectual interest to me. Indeed, why are putting ourselves through that suffering? Why do we spend hours falling, rolling, getting our wrists twisted in all directions, and receiving shocks from a partner who is supposedly a “friend”? We assume that pain is necessary to progress in the Way. This pain is our limit, it is what allows us to know and to understand. Without it we are nothing. The real difficulty is not if we should sustain it but how far can we go in the acceptance of pain. More importantly perhaps, is to assess when does it become just plain stupidity?
Di terremoti e trivelle
Domani esce la Giulia…
Argomento futile, lo so, ma non è tanto di automobili che vorrei scrivere (anche, ma non solo). Per me la famosa Alfa Romeo è sinonimo di ricordi. Non che ce ne sia stata mai una in famiglia, ma era la mia auto dei sogni quando ero bambino. Ora che un bambino ce l’ho io, ecco che la Giulia torna sulle strade. La regina delle auto degli anni 70, un periodo così di moda oggi con la mania per il vintage che dilaga. Si stava meglio allora? Non credo, erano gli anni di piombo, non dimentichiamocelo. Ma forse le speranze di un futuro migliore erano maggiori, molto maggiori. Ed è forse quello che oggi ci manca da morire. Diventiamo nostalgici di quel periodo, di cosa si faceva, si ascoltava …e si guidava in quegli anni. Che la Giulia ci riporti la speranza?
Seishiro Endo for the third time in Rome – and I was not there
I’ve always claimed it: Aikido is really useful right when your morale is low. To avoid training when you are down in the dumps is a bit like avoiding food because you’re hungry. Until we don’t grasp this, we haven’t grasped the real essence of the practice.
Now, maybe I should refine the concept more, since this has just happened to me last weekend. I avoided practicing in a very important and luring seminar, even though I had paid in advance. Why? I didn’t feel like it, I had low spirits…
“Vinyl” dilemmas
It is some time now that, in the rare occasions I have to listen to some music with my hifi system, I choose to play a vinyl record on my old Thorens TD-165 instead of a CD. It’s not about what kind of music to listen to, it’s just about listening to a vinyl record: unfolding it, cleaning it, letting the stylus descend, they all are gestures of a time gone but that are part of a relaxing ritual which is typical of using a turntable. Playing a CD would be faster, no time lost, but it would be no different from the frantic life of today’s world. What I’m looking for is an escape from this stress: we’re always on the run, so when I have some time to spend listening to music, I’d like to take a break from the frenzy. Preparing to listening to a vinyl record takes time – and this is just the point.
For the same reason I thought about starting a semi-commercial activity: restoring old turntables like mine and enjoy the hand work needed to eliminate the small defects due to aging; then I would resell the product, taking advantage of the vinyl resurgence of the last years. Where’s the dilemma? My own Thorens TD-165 was given to me by a friend who did not use it. It was the basic model of the brand’s production in the 70s, it was the cheapie. The top of the line was then the TD-160, more expensive still today and also widely considered still worth of high-level modern hifi systems. If I’ll be servicing old Thorens TTs, the TD-160 will sure be one of the models to focus on. But how could I work on one of them for weeks only to part from it without ever thinking about keeping one for myself?
I mulini a vento
Quando ero tutto Linux e OpenOffice e lavoravo all’università tra fior di ricercatori e menti aperte, ho provato ad applicare alla realtà il fare a meno dello strapotere di Microsoft. Niente Windows, niente Office! Linux e OpenOffice funzionavano a meraviglia. Esportavo in formato Microsoft se necessario. Outlook? No, Thunderbird era fantastico. E chi ha bisogno di Internet Explorer quando Firefox è sempre stato nettamente superiore?