by Ben Feder
I thought long about the trade-offs and adjustments that I would have to make—working in another culture and language, the time and attention away from family because of travel demands, working in multiple time zones, and the general pressures of a fast-growing enterprise. It seemed as if I could be headed back into the situation I had left. Still, the opportunity to learn and grow while working with some extraordinarily smart and capable people appealed to me.
I equivocated about the decision, but in the end, it was Eric who convinced me to join. “Even Thoreau had to return to Boston.” I realized that my quest would end like so many others, with a return home and a new sense of mission. Like the animal that had shed its skin, I was reborn. I accepted the offer and dove in with wholehearted intention. I even undertook to learn Chinese, again challenging myself to learn a difficult, even daunting skill.
Some of my earlier habits returned. I was traveling again, taking late phone calls, and missing dinners. But I realized that everyone needs to practice their trade. This is what I did. Yet I did it with a new perspective—more mindfully, as a meditation teacher would say—with less angst and stress, and always with an eye on where I was going. Not in conflict with my family but always looking to dovetail our endeavors and lives.
One steamy New York summer morning, on a day I was to board a flight for a business trip, Victoria and I attended a yoga class at the Kula Yoga Project on Warren Street. Kula was a low-key affair, situated on the third floor of a four-story walk-up and attended by dedicated yogis. Since we’d returned from Bali, I had gotten to know many of them in my daily practice. That day, Magi Pierce, an intelligent and talented instructor, led the way. As class got under way, I stood at the top of my mat in mountain pose with my arms by my side. I squeezed my shoulder blades together and turned my open palms to face forward. I felt my bare feet so solidly placed on the mat that they almost penetrated the ground beneath me. I settled into the pose and thought of that volcano in Java I’d climbed and imagined a different kind of mountain, one of soaring strength and dignity.
I transitioned into the down-dog position and felt my toes flex. I looked down and watched sweat descend in slow drops from my shirt and bead up on the mat below. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and again imagined myself back in Bali.
I let my mind wander and heard the sounds of Green School: students playing the marimba, irrigation sprinklers watering the student vegetable gardens, the serenade of the Ayung River rushing in the jungle ravine below campus, the background birdsong of the tropics. I imagined a puff of tropical breeze billowing through an open-air classroom, so real I felt it brush my face. I thought about my family’s time in Bali, the ties and relationships Victoria and I developed with each other and our children, and the growth we experienced through shared emotion and experience. I thought about my effort to cultivate well-being through yoga, meditation, and art while engaging wholeheartedly in the world. It took time and intention for thoughts to change the brain and rewire neural pathways just as it took energy to synthesize the ethos of being and doing, but I was fully engaged in the effort.
Before I transitioned from the pose, I drew in another deep breath and opened my eyes. A small puddle, held by surface tension, rose from the mat. “Drop by drop,” I recalled the meditation master’s aphorism, “a cup is filled.”
acknowledgments
Neither this book nor the events described in it would have been possible without my wife, Victoria, and her extraordinary energy and vision. I am deeply grateful for her love, friendship, and commitment to me and our family. She is my inspiration, my true north.
Josh Getzler is a wonderful literary agent, and I would not have written this book were it not for Josh’s encouragement from the moment the idea was hatched. That idea was as much his as it was mine. I owe him the sense of accomplishment I feel for having written it.
Sitting down to write started not with a pen but with a click of a mouse, when I searched for a writing coach on the internet and found Steve Adams, a talented writer and a patient and supportive tutor. Without him the task would have been too daunting and overwhelming to consider. Ours was a cyberrelationship; we never met in person. But our emails and biweekly phone calls kept me on track. Thank you, Steve.
Where Steve left off, Peter Gelfan continued. Peter is a gifted editor. I balked when, after reading the first draft, he told me that the book needed to be completely rewritten. But eventually I did rewrite it with his suggestions in mind. The work product was vastly improved. He stuck with the project through thick and thin, and I am very thankful for his counsel, dedication, and skill with which he applies his craft.
Thank you also to Mark Fretz, Scott Waxman, and the team at Radius Book Group. Without their constant vigilance and competent management, this book would not have seen the light of day. And thank you to Sandi Mendelson, David Kass, Fauzia Burke, and the teams that have worked tirelessly to promote the book and to make sure it got into the hands of a readership I value dearly.
Finally and certainly not least, thank you to my family, friends, and many colleagues, especially at Young Presidents Organization, who read and reread the manuscript and provided valuable feedback, patience, and support.