I want to tell you about my own experiences as a totally blind student of three different arts. I don't know how much the rest of you can imagine or relate these experiences to your own training, but I submit them for what they are worth.

I studied Shorin Ryu karate for about six months. I hated it! Some of it was the school, the method of teaching was all visual immitation of demonstration, at least at the low rank levels. But even more I came to realize that this art was ill suited to my strengths and emphasized the biggest physical weakness, my inability to see. The way we were taught emphasized coming in from the outside, striking and retreating; making as little contact as possible other than the strike(s) or rare take-downs. I was left completely at sea a lot of the time.

Now the aikido I've studied has been difficult also, as many of the attacks come from fighting distance. However, I've learned to make contact, stick and to refine my perception so that most of the time, if I can only touch the back of your hand lightly, I know where the rest of you is. I also began to learn how to read intent and though I couldn't describe it as a conscious process, intuitively, I can often know what kind of attack, from which side and at what intensity is coming before I make contact with it.

My kung fu has been the most important element of this learning. While we do practice a lot of fast-hand techniques that resemble the karate techniques I described earlier, we also do a lot of training to hone the sort of sensitivity that I need to read an attack.

In some situations, my lack of vision can become a bonus. You have to actually hit me to distract me, merely waving a hand in my face won't do it. I am not intimidated by visually spectacular attacks, as one of my senseis discovered. We did a drill in a forest where, while walking along we would be ambushed by him, wielding a bokken, coming screaming out of the woods, complete with camo paint. Many students froze. I was able to rather calmly draw my own boken, wait till the last minute then step out of the way and simulate cutting him down. We were both a little surprised, but I attribute some of my success to not freezing in the face of his visually distracting dress and makeup.

I am also forced to feel a technique, concentrating on my own and my partner's centers, feeling the balance and breaking of same. I am not distracted by the visual elements of the technnique, and I can often diagnose my own or another's errors by feeling the difference between the way balance shifts from the wrong technique to the demonstrated ideal.

But make no mistake, it's bloody hard work, requiring a degree of focus that I think some sighted martial artists would be intimidated by. When I am not paying attention, I get hit; I don't have that last-chance, corner-of-the-eye reflex to rely on. I've got to be right there, right now, every time. I have to know exactly where I am in relation to walls, other students and minor obstacles such as weapons racks. Remind me to tell you the now funny story of how I completely disrupted the meditation of a class in the next room while practicing my jo kata. I have to be extremely careful when throwing my training partner that she will not go sailing into a wall or off the edge of the training floor; in my aikido school, ours is raised.

I sometimes have to modify techniques to allow me to find the incoming attack. I use a lot of sweeping movements accompanying my stepping to find the hand, arm or leg that needs countering. I can't afford to stay at a distance, my opponent has all the advantages there; I have to close, hold and do my technique quickly and efficiently. And I have to do so avoiding any counter that my opponent chooses th throw my way.

The most immediate mental problem I have to deal with is fear. I am not ashamed to admit that with all my practice, there is still a corner of my mind that wonders what the hell I'm doing when someone is swinging a jo at me. when I concentrate on this part of me, I get tense, sloppy and more easily frustrated. when I can fit my own ideal and let go of the fear, as well as expectation of any particular outcome, I actually move with some grace and power, and I realize exactly why I'm hanging it out there, trusting my skill and tenacity to get me through.

I will never serve my country in war. I will never be a policeman. I hope never to be in a real life situation where I am forced into true violence, defending myself against the physical assault of my ex-wife is as close as I ever want to get. I study MA for many reasons. One of them is to test myself in the crucible of danger, even as controlled as it is, to refine my character.

This has been long. I hope that it is relevant to some of you, and in any case, thanks for reading.