About the maker

Rebeka. Fifteen years on a sadhu board. Two hundred students. One board worth selling.

I stood on my first sadhu board in 2010, in a friend's living room in Topanga. It was a bad board. The wood was pine, the nails were galvanized, the spacing was wrong, and the first ten seconds felt like punishment. I bought one within the week.

The board I bought was also bad. So was the next one, and the one after that. I spent more money on sadhu boards over my first five years of practice than most people spend on a bicycle, and not a single one of them was something I would put under another person's feet.

I taught myself woodworking around 2015 — first because I wanted to repair the boards I owned, then because none of the boards I could buy were the boards I wanted to stand on. By 2018 I was making my own. By 2022 I was making boards for friends. By 2024 I had a waiting list.

The waiting list is why this site exists. I named the brand Love Energy Board because the practice, when it lands, is a way of telling the body you love it — even the parts that hurt. The store is at sadhuboard.store, which is the plain word for what I make.

What I learned in fifteen years of practice

Most boards on the market are bad in one of three ways. They use the wrong wood (pine warps; flat-sawn hardwood warps slower but still warps; only quarter-sawn behaves over a decade). They use the wrong metal (galvanized rusts against bare skin; steel is fine but ages poorly; copper is the right answer and most manufacturers find it too expensive). And they get the spacing wrong — most often by not having a clear philosophy about it, and shipping a one-size-fits-all spacing that fits no one.

I make one board. It is the board I would teach a beginner on, and the board I stand on now in my fifteenth year. The spacing is 10mm because that is the universal spacing — wide enough to be felt, narrow enough that the first day is survivable. Anything tighter and you outgrow it; anything wider and you cannot start.

What I do beyond the board

I teach. Two hundred people have stood on a board in my studio in the last decade — first-timers who came in scared, longtime practitioners who plateaued and wanted help finding the next edge, retreat groups passing through Los Angeles. The one-hour consultation on this site is the same hour I have spent with each of them. The video guide is what I have ended up saying to almost everyone, twelve times, condensed.

If you are running a retreat and want me to bring boards and teach a session, write to me. The studio also takes private sessions in person when you are in Los Angeles; ask when you book the hour.

— Rebeka, Los Angeles, California