It was a rough landing from a hard throw.
Even with ukemi taihenjutsu it was a difficult roll, an
ukemi of self-preservation.
They did manage to do it, but winded and a bit dizzy in the
process of getting up.
Stepping back in line, did they notice that myself and one
of the other senior students shifted and moved in behind them, at the correct distance
just in case something happened?
It’s not that we didn’t think they could do it, when one
steps out on the dojo floor they assume responsibility for all actions, but
seniors (sempai) always look out for juniors (kohai), often when done
correctly, the juniors in the training are not even aware of it.
The dojo, the training, the way often appears as a paradox
for those not undergoing to training.
When observing the dojo, it appears as a dangerous place.
People punching, kicking, being thrown around.
Why would anybody sign up for this?
Yet for those inside the dojo, it is an opposite paradox in
that that dojo is perhaps one of the safest places in the world. Here in this
sacred space, for an appointed time, those interested in the way step outside
of space and time to learn a tradition passed down for 1000 years. One is carefully
led through the training process, a process which has been used for generations
to produce and bring out the best in the individual.
In the dojo, one is encouraged, supported, and pushed to the
limit but never beyond what is capable in the moment, which through the training
becomes more and more.
Corrections from the teacher and senior students are done
not out of harshness, but out of love and compassion, so one can arrive as
close to perfection and complete movement as possible.
There is nothing to be scared of in the dojo, which in terms
of mistakes or getting something wrong- that is OK, one gets to try at it
again, or as many times as one needs.
Compare that to a situation outside of the dojo.
The dojo as a place, a way to become a complete human being
through natural taijutsu movement.