By Joseph Baqaeen
When the pandemic struck and physical contact became restricted, many believed that such limitations would have a devastating—perhaps even fatal—impact on martial arts, where close interaction is an essential part of daily training. Some even speculated that, even once circumstances returned to normal, the world would not truly go back; people would embrace activities that maintained distance, favoring solo sports or martial arts that limited direct contact.
Yet, this theory was quickly disproven. As soon as practitioners were able to return to the mat, there was a renewed hunger for human connection—for engaging with others, for stepping out of isolation.
In fact, our dojo saw a surge in membership and the return of familiar faces. This resurgence was more than just a return to routine; it was a statement about what people truly value in Aikido: shared practice, mutual growth, and the energy of training together.
And this brings us to an important question: if the essence of Aikido lies in connection and shared experience, what role do seminars play in this journey? Why do practitioners invest their time, effort, and resources to attend them? And, perhaps most importantly, what makes a seminar truly successful?
Practitioners invest time, effort, and money to attend seminars. They must be looking for something meaningful in return. A seminar is not about the teacher showcasing their personal experiments or using the event as a laboratory for untested ideas. Rather, it is about the students—the practitioners who come seeking answers, inspiration, and growth.
When people attend a seminar, they are not simply looking for techniques; they are looking for clarity, for a deeper understanding of principles, and for an experience that elevates their practice. They want to leave the mat feeling that they came in with less and left with more.
In some seminars, I have even heard the sensei say, “Choose the best.” Whatever that phrase meant, I interpret it as an encouragement to create an atmosphere of dynamic practice—where no one assumes they are the best, and everyone strives to improve. If your goal is to experience high-level practice, this is your chance. Think of it this way: if I play tennis with a 12-year-old all the time, how can I expect my game to improve? But if I play with someone better than me, I am challenged, and I grow.
A successful seminar is not a playground for the sensei’s personal experiments. It is a carefully planned experience designed to benefit the practitioners. It should not be tailored to the lowest common denominator but rather offer an opportunity for everyone to engage with high-level ideas of Aikido — concepts that challenge and inspire.
In every seminar, you will notice a pattern: those who feel they cannot keep up often stand at the back, while those who are thirsty for knowledge move to the front. They want the first seat; they are telling the teacher, “I am here. I am listening.” This eagerness should be met with a seminar structure that rewards curiosity and commitment.
Ultimately, the success of a seminar is measured not by how much the sensei enjoyed teaching, but by how much the practitioners gained—technically, mentally, and spiritually. A seminar should leave participants feeling enriched, motivated, and connected to the essence of Aikido. If we keep the focus on the practitioners and their aspirations, seminars will continue to be a cornerstone of Aikido’s evolution, ensuring that the art thrives for generations to come.
