Why I Opened an Aikido Dojo in Clifton Park
- Tim Cooper

- Oct 1
- 2 min read
Starting something new is always stressful. Starting a dojo—well, that’s a special kind of stress.
There have been late nights worrying about whether people will show up, early mornings wondering if I made the right choice, and more than a few moments when the to-do list seemed taller than me. Ordering mats, figuring out insurance, learning how to market on social media—none of this was in the traditional samurai training manual.
So why do it? Why open Aikido Northway here in Clifton Park?
The short answer is: community.
I’ve lived and trained Aikido for decades. It’s shaped my body, my outlook, and the way I deal with life. And what I’ve found again and again is that Aikido is not something you do alone. It’s practiced together—on the mat, face-to-face, hand-in-hand. You throw, you fall, you get up, and you try again. You do this with partners who become friends, and in time, with friends who begin to feel like family.
An old teaching says: “From one comes two, from two comes three, and from three come the ten-thousand things.” That’s how I see this dojo. It started with me—a single practitioner carrying what I had learned over many years. Then came two, when the first student stepped onto the mat beside me. Then three, and the beginnings of a community. And in time, if we keep training together, the ten-thousand things will follow: friendships, skills, resilience, and a spirit of connection that extends far beyond the walls of the dojo.

And here’s the thing: the very same practice that brought me the courage to open a dojo is what helps me manage the stress of running one.
Aikido teaches us to breathe when we’re under pressure, to center ourselves when someone is pushing hard against us, and to move with challenges rather than trying to bulldoze through them. When the details of running a business pile up, I remind myself of the rhythm of training: blend, turn, redirect, and keep moving forward.
Sometimes, I feel like every phone call or email is an incoming strike. But just as on the mat, I can choose how to respond. I can meet it head-on with tension—or I can soften, adjust, and flow. That’s the art of Aikido, and it’s also the art of building a life.

So yes, starting this dojo is stressful. But it’s also joyful. Every time I see a student step onto the mat for the first time, I’m reminded why I took this leap: to share Aikido with others, and to build a community of resilience, connection, and growth here in Clifton Park.
If you’re curious about Aikido, or if you just want to see what happens when people come together to practice something positive, I invite you to join us. You don’t need experience, and you don’t need to be in perfect shape. You just need to take the first step.
Because in the end, opening this dojo isn’t just about me. It’s about us—what we can build together, starting from one, and growing into ten-thousand.
—Tim Cooper Sensei
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