I put the cup to my lips and failed to block the descent of coffee. I missed my mouth. My gi, obi, and new white vest were splashed with dark spots.

I looked across at my teacher and acknowledged the lesson. For me, and for anyone aiming to be all light with no shadow.

If I were to design my own Shintaido uniform, it would have a swath of black, perhaps along the jacket placket. To maintain awareness of the ever-presence of shadow, of darkness. The partnership between light and dark. That we will not get rid of darkness, so we will honor its beauty and existence and give darkness a home with its bright partner.

Without the one there is no other. And to recognize only light permits the dark to angrily run rampant behind the curtains like an injured stepchild.