I keep the breath steady, the mind clear, and the movement fluid. In practice I begin with a slow, focused kata, feeling every tension release. Then I let a beat of the city’s pulse in—soft drums or the hum of traffic—guide my steps, allowing the rhythm to loosen the form just enough to let a twirl or a leap fall into place. The secret is not a trick but a mindset: stay present, let the energy flow, and respect the crowd as if it were another opponent. When I walk into the street, my discipline stays, but I allow the crowd’s energy to become part of my own, turning a quiet kata into a living dance.

I once performed in a downtown square where the crowd had a spontaneous drum circle. I started with my usual slow stances, but the rhythm of the drums made my footwork quicken and my blades flicker in sync with the beat. The crowd’s cheers guided me to a spinning, high thrust that I never planned; it felt like the city itself was a partner. That moment—where the audience’s energy turned my kata into something unpredictable—remains the most vivid reminder that discipline can bend with the pulse of the people around you.