Bowing Out

Four-hundred and ninety-five days ago, I attended (taught, actually) my last class at Aikido of Cincinnati. Since then, my gi, my belt, and my hakama have been sitting by my front door. I left them there in the hope that they would be needed again, but for me that hope is fading. So today, a day before my 20th anniversary in aikido, I am packing them away.

The reality is that my dojo is still only open to those who are either vaccinated and/or willing to wear a mask during training. Since I am neither…and will not be…I am still not allowed to participate. As such, it becomes increasingly difficult emotionally for me to allow myself to continue to cling to the hope that I will ever be permitted to return to the practice of aikido. While much of the world is getting back to at least a semblance of normalcy and getting on with their lives, the dojo that I love is still living in July of 2020. For me, it is painful to continue hanging on by what seems to be the slenderest of threads. I think that I need to let go.

If and when the day comes that Aikido of Cincinnati re-opens fully, I will be back on the mat that same day. But until then, I must respectfully bow out.