I have given the matter some thought, which I have based
on the idea that a dojo is a place (-jo) to follow the Way (do-
or Tao). I'm not entirely certain, but here are my conjectures:
The diagram the tea sensei gave me concerned the interplay
of the Taoist five elements, which have to do with the formation and dissipation
of energy. These elements are linked to various things including time, cardinal
directions and certain human characteristics. On the drawing of her tea
hut's floor plan, the sensei labeled these directions and their corresponding
characteristics. I superimposed these over a drawing of a traditional dojo.
The results were intriguing. . .
We enter the dojo opposite the kamiza, at the shimoza.
If we think of the kamiza as north, the shimoza becomes south. According
to Taoist cosmology, south is associated with the fire element, which is,
in turn, associated with intellect and etiquette. It is our intellection--our
conscious desire to learn--that brings us to the entrance of the dojo. Yet,
to some degree, that is where we must leave intellection. Beginners who
appear at the shimoza full of preconceptions are unlikely to get far unless
they set their opinions aside and open themselves to the art's teachings.
Entering at the shimoza, beginners find that their initial
experiences are largely cerebral, even if they set their preconceptions
aside. Without constant cognitive thought (and even sometimes with it),
they stumble and are lost, unable to do anything instinctively or viscerally.

It is at the shimoza that trainees begin to learn reishiki
(manners) that allow them to conduct themselves with dignity in the dojo,
to practice safety in a hazardous environment, and to develop consideration
for others. The all-important factor of reishiki must originate at the dojo's
door--and ideally continue beyond it when training is finished.
The joseki side of the dojo is at the right or east,
and in the Taoist cycle of elements east corresponds to wood and hence to
virtue and charity.
The joseki is the position occupied by the teacher and
by the seniors when they assemble and during practice. In the modern, commercial
dojo, it may be only the juniors who are regularly reminded of their obligations
(dues, testing fees, and so on). In the traditional dojo, however, the obligations
were balanced. Realizing that the future of their art depended upon successive
generations, the senior practitioners were seen as having the obligation
to nurture the lower. The joseki in such traditional dojo is thus less a
position of privilege than of responsibility.
Continued. . .

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