Aikido and non-duality

As my Aikido practice has deepened, I’ve had time to reflect on the initial thoughts and preconceptions that first drew me to the art.

When I started, I immersed myself in reading about O’Sensei and watching as many videos of him as I could find. I noticed something striking—O’Sensei moved differently to all of his students, he seemed to embody something beyond form and technique. My understanding is that he never spoke of Aikido in terms of form or self-defence; for him, it was something far more profound. Over time, I’ve come to realise that Aikido is simply an expression of who we are.

I believe this is the true path that O’Sensei left for us to explore. But to understand it fully, we have to stop looking outward—seeing Aikido as a form, a technique, or a method to achieve something—and instead turn our attention inward, toward the fundamental question: Who am I? In other words, what is our true nature?

Along my journey, I’ve met others on the same spiritual path and noticed that, despite outward differences in practice—whether Reiki, Yoga, Zazen, or playing a musical instrument—all the arts share a common purpose: to realise that we are simply here, now, in this moment. Our bodies are the instruments through which we experience consciousness, yet this awareness is often clouded by our attachment to our ego and dualistic thoughts.

At its deepest level, every sincere practice leads to the same realisation, like different paths converging at the peak of a mountain.

I first glimpsed this truth when I let go of my agenda to achieve the next Aikido grade. Then I lost the ambition to “Aikido” someone in a dualistic sense and eventually found myself showing up to practice with no intention other than to practice.

By committing to practice, we give ourselves the opportunity to shed the illusion of duality and experience the sense of unity that arises in the moment. At first, this may be a fleeting feeling, but with regular training, we learn to return to this space again and again. Over time, we hope that this experience of oneness will begin to spill over beyond the dojo, shaping how we move through everyday life.

A friend introduced me to the teachings of Sri Ramana Maharshi, and I also began listening to the beautiful talks of Rupert Spira, whose words resonate with me profoundly. Rupert articulates the essence of who we are with such clarity that it highlights just how simple nonduality is. Yet, as I’ve found, while it may be simple to understand, it is not always easy to embody—which is why I feel the need to continue practicing daily.

This naturally raises another question: why do so many people struggle to see the true nature of Aikido? Perhaps it is because most of us already live in a dualistic state. We project our ego onto our Aikido practice just as we do in everyday life—until we learn to let go of our preconceptions and see ourselves as we truly are.

This is why I see Aikido and the arts as lifelong pursuits, and why I feel inspired to keep practicing—not to attain something, but to let go of something. In that letting go, we create space to experience life with greater joy and peace.