This video can be found on Oiwa Ryota Sensei’s YouTube page. He has many excellent videos of himself and other senseis that are definitely worth watching and supporting.
I recently watched this class taught by Luis Mochon Sensei at an event in Tokyo hosted by Endo Seishiro Shihan. It left a strong impression on me—not only for the clarity of his teaching, but for how faithfully he expresses the feeling and direction of Endo Seishiro Shihan’s Aikido. The audio had its challenges, but even so, Luis’ message came through unmistakably.
He is, quite simply, an excellent teacher. What stood out most was not the volume of material, but the quality and consistency of his presentation.
Teaching with Depth, Not Volume
One of the first things that struck me was how deliberately he limited the amount of material. Rather than covering a wide range of techniques, Luis taught only a handful and worked deeply into them. This reinforced something I’ve believed for a long time: refining a few techniques is far more valuable than rushing through many.
In addition, he spoke clearly and simply. No complicated explanations, no layered abstract theories—just straightforward language that led directly to experience. There is real power in that approach.
Connection to Lineage
Luis frequently referenced Endo Sensei through metaphors, analogies, and direct demonstrations. These weren’t casual mentions; they were reminders of the source, the lineage, and the feeling that guides his own practice. This kind of connection is invaluable. It keeps the teacher present even when he is not physically in the room.
His movement carried the unmistakable signature of Endo Sensei’s Aikido: softness without collapse, structure without rigidity, and connection without force.
Feeling Students, Not Just Teaching Them
Another quality worth noting was his constant movement around the mat. He threw many students, felt their responses, and allowed them to feel his. This is a form of communication that cannot be replaced with words. Aikido is transmitted body to body, center to center. Luis demonstrated that continuously.
And, importantly, he ended every session with jiyuwaza—restoring flow after structured practice, encouraging natural movement, and reinforcing that Aikido is not merely a collection of techniques but a living, breathing way of interacting.
Basics, Testing, and the Nature of Technique
One part of the class made me reflect deeply on how we teach basics. Luis emphasized “obeying the laws of gravity,” a reminder that even fundamental techniques must follow natural movement rather than rigid shapes.
Originally, I wrote: “Technique should change in size and expression as we advance, but the principles should remain constant.”
For someone new to Aikido, let me clarify that:
As beginners, our movements are larger, more obvious, and more structured so we can understand where our balance and direction are. As we advance, these same techniques become smaller, more efficient, and more subtle—not because they change into new techniques, but because our bodies become better at expressing them with less effort. The outward appearance evolves, but the underlying principles do not.
This unity between basics and advanced movement is central to honest practice.
Physical Practice as the Foundation
A point often overlooked in modern dojos surfaced clearly while watching Luis work: resistance is not only about intention. If someone is physically unable to take ukemi or move freely, the body itself becomes resistant.
“Softness” is not the absence of strength; it is trained capacity. To study Aikido honestly, the body must be conditioned, adaptable, and capable of receiving and expressing connection.
This physical base is what allows deeper principles—connection, center, softness, non-resistance—to actually take root.
The Value of Clear Direction
One of the larger realizations I had was how important clarity of direction is to the growth of an art.
Historically, the most recognizable lines of Aikido have come from organizations guided by a single leader. This isn’t just true in smaller groups—it has been true from the beginning. The Aikikai Hombu Dojo, from which most modern Aikido descends, has always had one Doshu: first Kisshomaru Ueshiba, and now Moriteru Ueshiba. The Doshu provides a unified, public-facing standard for the art practiced at Hombu Dojo.
This form of singular leadership isn’t about hierarchy for its own sake. It’s about transmission.
When the direction is unified, the art remains coherent. When too many competing interpretations emerge, the essence becomes diluted. While a single leader can present its own challenges, it also gives an organization a clear identity, shared technique, and common principles.
Luis’ class reaffirmed this truth: focusing on one consistent line of teaching—rather than many—creates clarity that can guide both practice and growth.
Looking Ahead
This class reinforced what truly matters in Aikido:
- simplicity
- clarity
- honest physical practice
- consistency of principle
- connection to lineage
Aikido is not static. It lives and evolves through the body of each practitioner. But evolution does not mean abandoning our roots. Instead, it means digging deeper into the principles we’ve inherited.
Luis demonstrated exactly that. His teaching was a reminder that there is still so much depth ahead of us—if we stay committed, stay honest, and continue training with sincerity.