Once You Are Shown


As soon as I crossed the dojo floor I knew the focus of tonight’s class.

The training mats were removed from the floor, the far wall lined with thick layers of card board, and two large straw mats layered in-front of that.

It was interesting to see which students recognized what was going on, and which students had no idea.

After the bow-in we remained in our lines, senior to junior and as it was passed down the line from senior to junior.

Take five and pass the rest along.

Interesting to see some students held that five as if they had never felt them before, while others insincerity turned them over to feel the balance and sort them by weight.

Blunted tips, chiseled tips for indoor practice but still a weapon.

The atmosphere of the dojo shifted.

The teacher calling up three seniors to being showing how it is done as they instructed the class on the mechanics and the points to keep in mind.

Line up and start the practice.

Some threw them.

Others released them.

Some made them stick anywhere on the straw mat.

Others stuck them where hands and faces would have been.

When the last student completed the line, everybody sat down, hands on the ground, while one of the seniors collected them.

Back in line, take five and pass the rest along.

The teacher would offer insights, more then usual for a typical class, and he would watch.

Students who had seen this before, now it was the time to see if they really were practicing at home.

And for those who were seeing this part of the art for the first time, and understanding.

Once you are shown something in class, you become responsible for it.

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    Roppo Doji writes from the intersection of discipline, memory, and presence. His work explores the quiet spaces where lives touch:  the dojo at dawn, the silence between two people, the rituals that shape a path, and the moments that linger long after they’ve passed. 

    His stories move through themes of impermanence, devotion, and the beauty of connections that cannot last but still transform us. 

    With a voice marked by restraint, clarity, and emotional precision, he captures the gravity of lived experience and the subtle transmissions that occur in the spaces between words. 

    Questions, comments, feedback, flames, introductions, and inquiries may be directed to him at: