I didn’t expect the thing I’d love most about Warriors of Light to be getting hit.

Not literally, of course – but being pushed, in the boxing and the martial arts, right up to the edge of what I thought I was physically capable of, and then finding out that edge wasn’t real. It was a line I’d drawn myself, a long time ago, without even realizing I’d drawn it. And this year, over and over, I watched myself cross it. I didn’t know how much I enjoy learning to defend myself – not because I think anyone is going to attack me, but because there’s something that changes in you when you understand your own physical abilities and limitations instead of just assuming them. I walked away with more physical strength, yes, but also with knowledge: I know what I would do. And that knowledge makes me feel stronger as a person in a way that has nothing to do with any specific threat and everything to do with how I carry myself through the world now.

Then there were the teachings. Sovereign Ipsissimus Dave Lanyon’s lectures on time and eternity were some of the most profound I’ve sat through – the kind that reorganize something in how you understand why the world works the way it does. I know those teachings are going to change how I show up for my clients, and they’ve already changed how I understand my own life, on a deeper level than I expected going in. On top of that, we walked away with real tools – practical ones – for bringing more light into daily life. Not abstract ideas, but things I can actually use. It was profound and useful at the same time, which is rarer than it should be.

But if I’m honest, the piece that’s stayed with me the most is the community.

I know almost everyone who was there. I’ve met them, I’ve seen them at past events. But I wouldn’t say I know most of them well. And still – I know, without a doubt, that if I needed anything, every one of them would be there for me. That’s not something I’ve experienced in a community before. Part of it, I think, is the work we all do on our negative ego inside the mystery school – there’s no drama, no politics, just people actually supporting each other. If someone falls, a hand shows up, even from someone who barely knows them, simply because they needed it. That’s real unity, not the idea of it. And I keep thinking about what it would look like to build that same thing back home – the kind of community I want us to have in the Twin Cities, where showing up for each other isn’t the exception, it’s just what we do.

And then there was the laughter. The ridiculousness. The things we did in community training that make no sense unless you were there, and that you just laugh at because there’s nothing else to do. That’s not a side note to the training – I think it’s part of what makes the training work. You can’t get that close to a group of people, be that silly with them, and not end up more bonded to them. We ate together. We danced together at community night, and somehow the dancing built as much light as anything else that week. None of it was restful – I got very little sleep, my body is still recovering – but that’s exactly what sets me up for the rest of the year. I came home more driven than when I left, ready to bring more light and more joy into everything I do.

I don’t think I fully understood, before this year, that becoming stronger and becoming more connected were the same project. Warriors of Light keeps teaching me that they are.