There was once a very famous Aikido player in Japan who spent his whole life studying Usheba's legendary art. Although he had dedicated his whole existence to this beautiful art he had never actually had occasion to test it in a real life situation against a determined attacker, someone intent on hurting him. Being a moralistic kind of person he realised that it would be very bad karma to actually go out and pick a fight just to test his art so he was forced to wait until a suitable occasion presented itself. Naively, he longed for the day when he was attacked so that he could prove to himself that Aikido was powerful outside of the controlled walls of the dojo.
The more he trained, the more his obsession for validation grew until one day, travelling home from work on a local commuter train, a potential situation did present itself--an overtly drunk and aggressive man boarded his train and almost immediately started verbally abusing the other passengers.
"This is it," the Aikido man thought to himself, "this is my chance to test my art.?
He sat waiting for the abusive passenger to reach him. It was inevitable that he would: he was making his way down the carriage abusing everyone in his path. The drunk got closer and closer to the Aikido man, and the closer he got the louder and more aggressive he became. Most of the other passengers recoiled in fear of being attacked by the drunk. However, the Aikido man couldn't wait for his turn, so that he could prove to himself and everyone else, the effectiveness of his art. The drunk got closer and louder. The Aikido man made ready for the seemingly inevitable assault--he readied himself for a bloody encounter.
As the drunk was almost upon him he prepared to demonstrate his art in the ultimate arena, but before he could rise from his seat the passenger in front of him stood up and engaged the drunk jovially. "Hey man, what's up with you? I bet you've been drinking in the bar all day, haven't you? You look like a man with problems. Here, come and sit down with me, there's no need to be abusive. No one on this train wants to fight with you.?
The Aikido man watched in awe as the passenger skilfully talked the drunken man down from his rage. Within minutes the drunk was pouring his heart out to the passenger about how his life had taken a downward turn and how he had fallen on hard times. It wasn't long before the drunk had tears streaming down his face. The Aikido man, somewhat ashamed thought to himself ?That's Aikido!?. He realised in that instant that the passenger with a comforting arm around the sobbing drunk was demonstrating Aikido, and all martial art, in its highest form.
Why have I written this book? Why have I written a book about the art of fighting without fighting when my claim to fame is probably the fact that I have been in over 300 street fights, where I used a physical response to neutralise my enemy. Why write a book about avoidance when it is obviously so simple to finish a fight with the use of a physical attack? Indeed why write it when my whole reputation as a realist, as a martial arts cross trainer, as a blood and snot mat man may be risked by the endeavour? The reason is simple: violence is not the answer! It may solve some of the problems in the short term but it will create a lot more in the long term. I know--I've been there. I was, as they say, "that soldier?.
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