A dojo is a place to make contact: with other bodies, but first, with our own body and the intelligent technology within it. To contact our nature, the intelligence that exists beneath the pace of day to day life.

It is in this space that we can re-member how to move through the world with power, breath, and presence.

We aren’t here to battle. We are here to tend to the quiet screams of abandonment coming from within, and to test the life and identity we’ve constructed. As we practice, we honor each person's right to choose their own edge — when to hold back, and when to lean in. There is no belt system, no medal: nothing to prove.

This training ground is a living laboratory — a research of sacred practices inside of a modern reality. Not that we decide what works and discard what doesn't. Rather, we study and train with ancient techniques - knowing the world they were built for no longer exists — vigilance looks different now, and connection to nature takes real effort where it once was inherent.

It’s easier than ever to dismiss the world around us. To isolate, or overpower that which we believe to be unsafe. Our duty is to hold both motivation and discovery, without falling prey to the alluring romanticism of the past. As we train, we ask ourselves: what am I training for? We are not simply rehearsing old routines to preserve them. We are testing what place they still hold as a sharpening tool for our current existence.

We are training to bring forward the healing that is required at this time.

"Because life energy is the common source between human beings and nature, the loss of it parallels the loss of connection between human beings and their relations: the plants, animals, stones, water, sky, the Earth, and all of creation."

-Ken Cohen

“We have so many allies in this world, including just the color blue in the sky, which we’re not paying attention to, or the breeze or the ground beneath our feet. And so this is an invitation to come out of abstraction and back into the world again.”

— David Whyte