The Dojo & The Way Of The Sword

Something had happened, and nobody could explain why.

Well, maybe the teacher, but they were silent on the matter and the geometry of the dojo meant one could not just ask.

From the outside it didn’t look like much, just another industrial brick building on the block, the second floor of the building built over a car wash.

If the teacher knew you were going to be visiting he would often have one of us standing outside before class to meet the person as it was that easy to walk past and miss the dojo.

So how did people find their way to the dojo?

For the most part, by introduction.

Somebody was looking for art, and recommendations were given.

Very few people just wandered by off the street and walked in.

There was no advertising, social media presence, or short-form video.

The martial winds just seemed to blow the right people into the dojo.

It was just then ten of us, not counting the teacher, and class like that existed for quite some time.

But then new people started showing up.

One or two at first, asking questions, watching a class, even joining for a little while.

At first is was nice to meet some new people interested in the sword, but they tended to ask more questions then just training.

When the main room the dojo was suddenly filled with new faces, that is when we noticed, where were these people coming from?

Eventually class spilled out into the second room in the dojo and the teacher would spend part of the class in the first room, and part of the class in the second room. Numbers went from twenty, to thirty, to almost fifty.

Just as I got to know somebody, or even remember their name, they were suddenly gone.

They found out there was more to the sword than the movies led one to believe.

In order to minimize the disruption the teacher limited class visits to every other week, which did nothing to slow the numbers, and I finally broke protocol and asked him as my curiosity could no longer remain silent.

Sensei, where are all these people coming from?

Apparently it was a book.

A book about the sword had suddenly made it fashionable and exiting to study and people were seeking out kenjutsu instruction.

Since I had asked the question, I was also instructed to not worry about the sudden crowd and surge in people, as it would inevitable pass and thing would go back to normal.

Something about enjoying the cycle and learning from it as it will eventually pass, only to repeat itself again and again.

Eventually it was wall to wall in the dojo and visits had to be cut down to once a month.

When it was time to demonstrate a new technique for the night to work on one of the senior students would yell out and call everybody back to the main room to watch the instruction. One would move as fast as they could to get a good spot to try and be able to see.

I wasn’t doing it to be hurtful, but I was a bit selfish in my actions.

In class I trained with the same four or so people, my martial art friends who I had known for years in the dojo.

I didn’t have time to waste with any of the new students, what was the point when they were going to be gone in a month?

I wasn’t rude, I just made sure that as the teacher was ending the demonstration of a technique, I made sure I was standing next to one of my friends so we could partner up.

Eventually it got to a point where the Bad Boy of the dojo felt he had to do something.

That night based on the geometry of the crowd I was practicing with him next to the viewing area where visitors were watching the class, about five feet away from where we were training.

Punches were coming in, restraints being applied, throws being performed, all just a bit harder and with a little more flair. To be hit and put in a hold in a martial arts class was to be expected, but this was a little bit more extreme, as I flashed the Bad Boy a look.

He turned so only I could see the smile and nodded over to the watching visitors.

My posture back told him that he was going to get us, more specifically me, in trouble.

Did I notice anybody specifically in the crowd of visiting students?

No, but I really wasn’t paying attention to that.

Eventually the cycle ended, class returned to what would be considered normal, and a few of those visitors reamined as students.

As we all walked to the coffee house together after class we used those few minutes to hang back from the group and talk, and that was all that I remembered from that time. Seeing a pause in the story, I asked them what brought them to the dojo.

Was it the book?

Was it the way of the sword?

Neither, they had just been walking by on the street, and something quiet compelled them to visit that night.