The Passing of a Master

It has been several months since news of Emily Busch ‘s unexpected death and I still wrestle with the thought I shall never have the privilege of again practicing Aikido with her at Nippon Kan. The blow to Homa Sensei is undoubtedly far greater. I do not know his pain, but I am familiar with it.

Looking at the growing stack of draft posts, I see about a dozen on the subject of mastery. I feel I have a lot to contribute to this subject, particularly in regard to Agile practices. And yet, I hesitate due to a sense that I still have more to learn before I’m in a position to teach on the subject. In no small measure this hesitation is counseled by having met and studied with a great many truly masterful people across a wide variety of human experience.

Emily was one of those masters.

Not only was she a master of Aikido (6th degree black belt and Sensei at Nippon Kan), she was a master jeweler. She designed and made the wedding rings for both my first and second wife along with several beautiful pendants and a set of ear rings for one of my nieces. I never had a personal jeweler before Emily and shall not have another before my time is finished on this earth.

For all her skill and mastery, she very much understood the importance of service. There was no task that needed attention at the dojo or in preparation for a seminar that was beneath her rank. And I wonder how many patrons to Domo restaurant knew they had their order taken and served by a 6th degree black belt.

Emily had already achieved the rank of black belt by the time I began practicing at Nippon Kan in 1989. My very early memories from practicing with her are of her patience and ability to skillfully instruct a 6’5″ oaf like me in the ways of Aikido – both on and off the mat. I don’t know if Emily even weighed 120 pounds, but that never stopped her from putting my sorry ass on the mat or sending me over her shoulder. Even so, I never matched Emily’s skill, even on my good days.

Those mastery related posts will have to wait a while longer. And in the wider view, my respect for those whom make claim to be masters without having done the work and earned the title have lost a little more of my respect.

Emily Sensei will be missed.


Comment ( 1 )

  1. Clouds and Windmills – The Agile Fieldbook
    […] Of course, it wasn’t this simple. The organization changed, as did I, in a myriad of ways. While exploring these questions, I was reminded of a story my Aikido teacher, Gaku Homma, would tell when describing his school. He said it was like a rope. In the beginning, it had just a few threads that joined with him to form a simple string. Not very strong. Not very obvious. But very flexible. Over time, more and more students joined his school and wove their practice into Nippon Kan‘s history. Each new thread subtlety changed the character of the emerging rope. More threads, more strength, and more visibility. Eventually, an equilibrium emerges. Some of those threads stop after a few short weeks of classes, other’s (like mine) are 25 years long before they stop, and for a few their thread ends in a much more significant way. […]