Settling the Storm

The dojo was quiet in the late afternoon light. Jiro stood alone near the open panels, his bokken held loosely in one hand. Mina and the orb had just left, their energy lingering in the air like ripples on water.

He stared at the worn floorboards, their surface marked by countless years of training. His gaze wasn’t fixed on anything in particular, but his mind was sharp, reflecting on the lesson he had just given.

Winning and losing. These concepts came up often with students, especially those like Mina—young, full of fire, eager to prove themselves. He had once been the same, chasing victories and fearing failure. Now, they seemed like shadows, fleeting and insubstantial.

He thought of Mina’s progress, how she had begun to understand the essence of receiving. It wasn’t just about deflecting an attack. It was about trust—trust in the process, in her training, in herself.

He replayed some of his last lesson with Mina, considering the lesson himself, reflecting on his own path towards harmony. “Winning and losing are illusions,” he murmured aloud, his voice soft, steady. “What matters is the flow. To win by overpowering is to lose the greater lesson. To lose by yielding without purpose is to miss the point.”

He raised his bokken, moving through a slow tenkan, the pivoting motion that embodied redirection and balance.

“Victory is finding the way forward together,” he said, completing the movement. “And failure? Failure is refusing to see the path at all.”

Jiro set the bokken down and stepped outside into the crisp air. The world was vast, unyielding, yet full of possibilities. His role was not to teach his students how to win. It was to guide them to find harmony in themselves and with others, to prepare them to face a world where the lines between opposition and collaboration were often blurred.