“Okay. Well you probably guessed that I’d need time to think about it. But I will be at your press conference for sure, if I can get the assignment.”
“Why wouldn’t you?”
“I’m a junior staffer. It sounds like a big story. But it costs money to get people like me to locations.”
“Hold on!” Quentin stood up and walked into the house, reached over a bar, and got a phone. From outside the house I could hear him having a conversation. What a guy! What a situation! I was both stunned and nervously exhilarated. This situation was very out of the ordinary.
I was getting the feeling that he’d pay me whatever I asked, but I… Quentin came back out onto the patio.
“Well?” I asked, suspecting, but not fully having the requisite faith to believe it.”
“I just got off the phone with your boss.” He really did it!
“Mr. Lockley?”
“That’s right. I told him I’d be willing to have you picked up in a private jet at the airport nearest your home office if he would let you cover my event. I promised exclusive first interviews for Fortune magazine on the announcement, if he wanted it, and to pay for your salary for the weeks you worked on the project.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“No I’m not. I’m really serious. I just don’t get worried. When other peoples’ worries stop them, I listen to them. I find out what they’d need to relax and double it. That way I can focus on dreams of wondrous things rather than fears. And your presence is one of those wondrous things. He agreed to everything as long as everything you wrote about during the time you’re away belonged to Fortune magazine’s parent company. I told him that was no problem.”
“Wow.” I was saying that a lot and felt kind of stupid for it.
“Wow is right! So your boss says you’ll be at that press conference. So you will at least do that for me, eh?”
“Sounds like a done deal.”
“Definitely. You won’t lose your job. He’s happy. I’m happy. And I hope you’re happy about it too and that all is well.”
“I think it is.” My inflection implied the definite yes my words didn’t.
“Feel that buzz? That is the excitement of living on the edge. Don’t worry. Be excited. Relax and enjoy.
“Let’s play tennis!” Quentin exclaimed after the slightest pause.
When I told him, near the end of our tennis games, that I had to leave to catch my flight back to Omaha that night, he laughed and said I had a lot to learn. A private limousine was going to pick me up for an already booked flight the next day.
“Your boss won’t mind. Trust me. After the deal I just worked out with him, just tell him the truth and don’t worry.” At this point, having seen his ability to assuage my boss’ worries, I didn’t. For the very first time, I allowed myself the freedom to brush off my normal nervousness about my boss’ state of mind.
“Let’s go for lunch. I know a place on the beach.”
This was fantastic. My article profiling young entrepreneurs would have at least one installment with a strong element of private scoop. At lunch I continued the interview.
“How do you stay so calm?” I asked as the blond slender waitress placed my omelet in front of me. After she was convinced that all was well she left and I continued, “You’re not like the other entrepreneurs I’ve met. You’re calmer. It’s in your breath, if you’ll permit me a writerly insight.”
“With my blessings, by all means.” So many of his statements were punctuated by broad smiles.
“Other entrepreneurs give off the air of being happy and self – satisfied, but they always have a deep need to be seen. Their posture is wolf-like. They aren’t really relaxed. But you seem genuinely relaxed. How do you do it?”
“Well. I do the usual. I meditate.”
“Hence the breathing.”
“Good writerly insight.” He smiled broadly.
“I also play the saxophone to relax…” Looking back on it, this most auto-erotic of all instruments was perfect for him.
“Saxophone! Do you play in a band?”
“No. Just alone. But I was in a band in high school.”
“That’s not in your standard profiles?”
“I wouldn’t think so.”
“What was your band called?” I pushed, hoping for a usable detail.
“The Dorian Gray Romance Band.”
“Nice name. Very literary.”
“Thanks. Did you ever play in a band?”
“No. I’m not that kind of artist. But,” I continued with growing confidence, “This is, finally, not your interview of me, but my interview of you.” My jokes only brought smirks, he was the master of broad smile evocation. “You meditate, play sax, and, and what else accounts for your calm?”
“I’m not petty. I don’t get caught up in the drama of life. I see all the business machinations I get involved in like television shows or a movie. It’s just entertainment. We all die sooner or later. There is no need to get too wrapped up in any of this stuff.”
“So you have a detachment from the world.” I probed.
“I guess so, if you want to put it that way. I never thought about it that way. It sounds kind of negative the way you put it.
“I don’t think of it as negative. I realize that every moment is blessed and that this moment of being alive is the greatest success one could ever have. I constantly celebrate the miracle of life. I lean into life, no matter what comes my way.”
He paused and closed his eyes. This was the first time I had seen this habit.
“Yeah, maybe I’m somewhat detached from everything except my family. That is the one thing that I take as a vital concern, that I really sweat about the outcome of. But even then . . .” His smile and shrug expressed his calm about their well – being too.
“Right on!” I exclaimed. “A sax playing Buddhist with a therapist, that’s just the sort of thing that makes good copy.” Then I caught myself. “Oh yeah, spiritual trainer. I’ll remember to print the right one. Don’t worry.”
“I don’t.” He shrugged and smiled broadly and I believed him.
Such was my first encounter with Quentin Longus. He was magnetic, I wanted to be around him. It felt like it must feel to have a guru. And I mean that sincerely. I am skeptical of such things generally. But he made it all seem real. His restful demeanor was genuine. He looked you in the eyes with a sort intensity that made you feel like you could open up to and trust him. He had an immense and transformative presence.
As would be expected, he beat me badly in tennis. I’m sure his beating me partially resulted from my not being an experienced tennis player. But it also reflected his inner calm. When he made a stupid mistake, he didn’t get flustered. His strokes and serves were done with amazing grace. His cultivated calm permeated him, his business efforts, and his tennis completely.
On that very day, Quentin taught me that who we are and how our lives come out are intimately connected. He would later tell me that how you do one thing is how you do everything. Frantic people get frantic results. Focused people get exactly what they