It’s an honor to prepare the dojo—or practice space—before a Shintaido class. Your feet traverse every square inch of a small world we agree to use with sincerity in hope of becoming more aware both within and outside the class.

Your mind is given time to let go of family, work, car, illness concerns. Your body focuses on grass and sticks, or litter or dust, or folding chairs that are in the way. Pushing a dust mop up and down the length of the floor becomes a meditative ritual. The dog dung part is unpleasant, but the falling leaves, the shining gym floor can be satisfying. You are given time to become part of what is here and now. You are rendering a service, a clean and safe space, to those with whom you learn.

Sometimes, two or more people work together, sliding rolled damp towels across the floor, an opportunity to experience synchrony before class even begins.

As you empty the physical space before class, so you empty your inner space as well, and become more receptive to who and what are around you.