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Lessons on the Lawn by Maria Hazen The level lawn was spongy green. Perfect, I estimated, for trying to amuse my then 18-month old nephew with a few cartwheels. It had been a few years but doing a cartwheel is like riding a bike, you never quite forget. At least I hoped so. I led off with my right hand, whirled feet skyward, and landed more horizontal than vertical on the soft turf. "What was that?" demanded my sister as I began to laugh. That was an aikido forward roll, I giggled. Had two and a half years on the mat really done that? Drilled into me not to fall stiff and extended, but curved and curled? I tried again. After a few mixed performances I succeeded in yielding an upright cartwheel. My nephew watched with deep interest, but I don't think he found one manner of turning upside-down more impressive than the other. I found I preferred the forward rolls, especially the novelty of smearing the lawn and my pants instead of thwacking a mat. My brother-in-law was also watching, perhaps recalling my stories of being thrown twenty-five times for my birthday. He had just had his birthday and wanted to know what it was like. I held out my arm, "Grab my wrist." So he did. Then we just looked at each other. He is supposedly six inches taller than I am, in his socks, but today he had his work boots on. Plus he has been hammering nails and toting 2x4s, 4x6s, 6x8s, and who knows what else as a carpenter for the past three years. He was not moving. I barely unbalanced him a few times, which impressed him very much, but only frustrated me. I should have moved earlier, I scolded myself, while he was still reaching for me. Once he made contact and had his feet planted, he was a rock that was not going to be moved. However, I suppose in true aikido philosophy I did not really need to move him because, although holding on, he was not threatening me, just grinning ear-to-ear. My nephew started to cry. Our playing around looked like fighting to him. Why would his beloved Daddy and charming Auntie fight? Things were just not right in the world. So we stopped, and after I did a few more aikido forward rolls he was smiling again. So why the difference? To this child, fighting was fighting, even if in play. But falling down, well, that's just part of walking.