Recently I’ve been reading a book on quantum gravity called “Reality Is Not What It Seems” by Carlo Rovelli. It’s one of those popular science books that are, as the name suggests, surprisingly popular these days. If I tell you that I have read that “reality is a network of granular events; the dynamic which connects them is probabilistic; between one event and another, space, time, matter and energy melt in a cloud of probability” then you won’t be surprised to learn I haven’t much of clue about what I’m reading.
The only thing that reassures me is that Richard Feynman, the American theoretical physicist and Nobel prize-winner once wrote “I think I can state that nobody really understands quantum mechanics.”
So, it’s a reasonably safe bet to say that I will finish this book without being much wiser about quantum gravity than I was when I started. There is, however, one recurring concept that struck me.
When I was at school we were taught to that everything is made out of atoms that consist of a nucleus of protons and neutrons surrounded by electrons like planets in a little solar system orbiting a tiny sun. Apparently things aren’t like that at all. There is no objective reality – electrons don’t always exist – they only acquire reality when they collide (interact) with something else. Otherwise they just exist as some kind of cloud of probability.
Now this is probably a very poor, or completely wrong, interpretation of quantum mechanics, but it’s an idea that fascinates me – things only exist in relationship to each other. Quantum theory is supposed to deal with things on a sub-atomic level, but I love the idea of applying it to my Aikido and in my everyday life.
Suppose you’re having a drink with a friend and he starts telling you his troubles. It doesn’t matter what they are – personal, financial, medical – and every time he tells you something you say, “I know, I’ve had that/it’s happened to me/if you think that’s bad, it’s been worse for me.” How’s your friend going to feel?
I’m guessing one of three things is going to happen. He’s either going to say “You know, you’re right. Things are so much worse for you,” or he’ll get quieter and quieter as you carry on talking about yourself or he will just get up and leave. And my bet would be on one of the last two – either way, I think you’ve lost a friend. And all of this because of the absence of a relationship – you might think you’re having one, but if you’re not hearing the other person or reacting to their concerns, they might as well not be there at all. You become the centre of a universe of one.
Obviously, you can see the same thing applying to Aikido technique. If all you’re interested in is doing the technique then you are more likely to force it, to try and make it work. But Aikido should work effortlessly, like being a good friend. The technique works because you as tori are listening to uke and responding to them if they are pushing forward you can tenkan and if they are pulling then you can irimi.
The metaphor of quantum theory can actually be extended further into both Aikido and our everyday life. At a subatomic level there is nothing but relationships. To go back to the pub for that drink, if you aren’t listening to your friend, you don’t exist – you might think you do, but what defines you is not what you are, but what you do. You are a verb, not a noun. In the dojo you might think you are tori, but you’re not – you are part of a process.
More chillingly, the only time you exist is when you are relating to something else. When you impose yourself, force yourself, aren’t sensitive, don’t listen – you don’t exist!
Of course, you can’t actually apply quantum mechanics to human relationships or your Aikido. Quantum theory deals with the very small in the same way that Newton’s laws deal with the very large and at the moment they are incompatible. Einstein spent the last years of his life in a futile search for a Unified Field Theory. The book I’m reading makes me think that maybe quantum gravity is another attempt at unifying the two theories of gravity and relativity.
But having said that, it is useful to take the concepts to inform us and make ourselves better. Can I be a better friend, partner, father by paying more attention to the relationship and less to what I want to get out of it? Can I perform better Aikido techniques by focussing more how I work with my uke rather than on him?
This is not to say that being in a relationship requires you only to respond. But the nature of your response is dictated by the information or attack you receive. If it’s a friend in a pub, then you can take a moment to consider everything you know about the situation before you offer your advice or opinion. If it’s in an Aikido class, then in a split second, you process all those muscle memories to produce the appropriate defence – this is why we practice continually, to expand what our body knows so that we can offer more than response to the attack. If we are indeed practising Aikido for self-defence, this is doubly important, as an inappropriate response to an aggressive act is going to see us in court charged with GBH.
The important thing to remember in any relationship is that “It’s not all about you.” Conversely, it’s not all about them either. We are all relative to each other and nothing we say or do could happen the way it does without everyone else on the planet. Which means each and every one of us is the centre of the universe. Without each other, we wouldn’t exist at all. That being so, we’d better take good care of each other!