How many ideas die
for want of a place to grow.

There's no such thing
as a bad idea.

There are only ideas that can be made better.

It's the one rule here. Someone brings an idea, half-formed, crooked, sometimes just a hunch they can't explain yet. The group takes it and works on it until it stands up.

What you'll find here.

A direction. Many people arrive without knowing yet what they want to do. They only know that what they're doing now isn't them. Working on an idea alongside others is the fastest way we know to find out: sometimes the idea grows into something, sometimes it mostly shows you where you were headed all along.

People to think against. An idea kept to yourself gets turned over in your head for months and comes out identical. What matters here isn't our opinion, it's the table. People unlike you, looking at the same thing from another side, telling you what you couldn't see.

Being taken seriously. The first time someone takes your idea, turns it around, improves it and hands it back stronger, something changes. Not in the idea. In you.

Something that stays yours. What you develop here, you take wherever you want. Propose it elsewhere, make a living from it, change it again.

You don't have to be twenty.

There are ideas sitting still at every age, and nearly always for the same reason: nobody ever listened to them long enough.

• Someone who's twenty with an idea nobody takes seriously.
• Someone who's fifty, doing work that stopped being theirs a while ago.
• Someone who raised a family with an idea kept in a drawer for fifteen years.
• Someone retired, with a great deal left to give and nobody left to ask for it.
• Someone who has taught yoga for years and is convinced retreats are being made the wrong way.
• Someone who has led retreats already and wants to stop repeating themselves.

The only thing you really need is an idea, and to believe in it.

What it is.

A laboratory of ideas about how retreats are made, and how Lunita is made.

It isn't a course: nobody teaches anybody anything.
It isn't a program: there's no beginning and no end.
It isn't a waiting room for becoming a facilitator.

It's a group of people who meet online every two weeks and work together on what each one brings.

Ideas don't have to become retreats.

This is the part that surprises everyone.

An idea born in the Lab can become a new experience on our menu. A different way of welcoming people when they arrive. A channel nobody in this field is using. A way of describing a retreat that gets it filled. Research into which ceremonies answer which problems.

A thousand things. And sometimes, yes, a retreat.

How it works.

You come in one at a time. No intakes, no classes. You start when we next meet.

We meet online every two weeks. From wherever you are. You're welcome to come here and lend a hand during a real retreat, but that isn't the point: the point is the ideas.

You bring, and we work. Whoever has something puts it on the table. The others take it seriously, which is the hardest and most useful thing you can do with someone else's idea.

There's no set length. You stay as long as there's an exchange.

You don't pay, and you don't get paid.

The Lab is free, and it isn't a job.

We don't ask you for money and we don't give you any. What we trade is time, attention and ideas, and as far as we're concerned, that's an even trade.

If an idea turns into something that generates work or revenue, that part gets agreed together, beforehand.

How to get in.

Write to us and tell us two things: what your idea is, even roughly, and what you think your role in here could be.

The two of us answer, Lorenza and Nico. We look at whether the idea holds something, but mostly we look at the person: the appetite to learn, and the willingness to put yourself out there in front of others. That weighs more than the idea, because an idea can be fixed.