While these episodes may seem disparate, in reality they share a mutual center, a common goal that is likewise at the very heart of traditional Japan itself. All are examples of Do, the paths of spiritual enlightenment that take the traveller on a journey largely introspective, filled with uncompromising discipline, hardship, and a rigidly ruthless conformation to form and style that leads, so say those who follow them, to a kind of mastery that is far beyond the merely technical.

Do, of course, is the Japanese pronunciation of Tao, the metaphysical force of the ancient Chinese religion of Taoism, as much a ritual of alchemy as it was a philosophy that encouraged "going with the flow" of nature. Fused with Confucian concepts of etiquette, respect, and a devotion to tradition and learning, the seeds of the Tao were germinated in Japan, where they emerged not so much as a distinct religion but as ideals applied to the performance of native arts and crafts, evolving them into something much more.

The list of the Do forms in Japan is considerable. Occidentals are familiar with some that have been transplanted, more or less successfully, like judo and kado, or as it is better known, ikebana (flower arranging). But many others are virtually unheard of. There is kodo, for instance, the Way of incense appreciation, and togeido, the Way of pottery. Some are even more esoteric, such as shiseido, the Way of femininity.

More practically speaking, the Ways of Japan are skills of one kind or another, engaged in with such attention and determination that they eventually become a means of self-expression. This idea of a skill or craft being elevated into art form is not exclusive to Japanese culture, but it is almost certainly only here that these forms have become so highly ritualized.

Partly because the mass production of literature is a historically recent development in Japan, and partly because a transmission of the Ways was considered to be too intricate and intimate to depend upon a textbook approach, the Ways were carefully codified and passed along personally from master to disciple. Eventually, this individualized method encouraged the formation of separate schools, or ryu, each with its own distinctive curriculum. A good example is found in kado, the Way of flower arranging. To the neophyte, two arrangements from the Ikenobo and Ohara schools of kado might seem quite similar. To the master, however, each is markedly different, reflective of the particular style of the school from which its creator came. The individual ryu also propagated their own preciously guarded "secret" techniques, which further serve to distinguish them. As with flower arranging, the secret itself might be as minor as a particular way of cutting flowers to retain their freshness longer. In the varying ryu of kendo, the Way of swordsmanship, the secrets often entail special tricks of body movement in attacking an opponent or luring him into a vulnerable position. Today, whether it be fencing or flower arranging, schools of the Ways are maintained by a continuum of headmasters and their loyal followers, each with its own teachings and traditions.