Receiving the Strike

The midday sun filtered through the open panels of the dojo, casting long shadows on the floor. Jiro stood before Mina, holding a jo, a wooden staff about as tall as himself. Mina gripped her own jo tightly, the smooth wood cool against her palms. The orb hovered nearby, glowing faintly, as if unsure how to participate.

“To receive,” Jiro began, holding his jo horizontally, “is not to block. It is to listen. Every attack carries intention. The jo teaches us to meet that intention—not with resistance, but with understanding.”

He stepped forward slowly, raising his jo. Mina raised hers too, gripping it defensively.

“Strike,” Jiro said.

Mina hesitated, then swung her jo awkwardly. Jiro deflected it with a swift, controlled motion, his own jo sliding along hers in a way that felt both powerful and gentle.

“You’re trying to stop me,” he said. “But stopping creates more force. More conflict. Try again.”

This time, Mina swung slower, watching Jiro’s movement. As her jo approached, Jiro turned his body slightly, catching her strike with his jo and guiding it downward, the wood humming as it slid. Mina stumbled forward, thrown off balance.

Jiro smiled. “Good. Now, let’s reverse.”

He stepped back and raised his jo, preparing to strike. Mina tightened her grip, heart pounding as Jiro’s staff arced toward her shoulder. Instinct screamed to block, to push back—but she hesitated, recalling his earlier words.

At the last moment, Mina shifted her jo sideways, letting Jiro’s strike glide along its length. The force of the attack turned into motion, and she pivoted, stepping aside.

“Better,” Jiro said. “When you receive, you create space—not just for yourself, but for your partner. Do you feel it?”

Mina nodded, still catching her breath. The orb shimmered as if it, too, was absorbing the lesson.

“Receiving isn’t passive,” Jiro continued. “It’s an active choice to let energy flow, to trust that you can redirect it. The jo teaches you to harmonize with even the sharpest of intentions.”