When Business Became Friendship and Fun.
Our early years with Open Circles were a marathon of back-to-back workshops and endless to-do lists.
Every weekend was devoted to intensive sessions—starting Friday morning and ending Sunday night, with jas little sleep as possible.
Weekdays were packed with marketing, admin, finance, and prepping for the next workshop, plus the occasional evening session midweek.
dd in raising a young child who deserved (and got) our attention, and you get a picture of two perpetually exhausted people trying to make it all work.
Social life? Pretty much a non-starter.
Even if we’d had time, we were so wiped we could hardly keep our eyes open.
But over time, some of our dedicated students transformed into assistants—and even friends—and suddenly, work and social life started to blend.
Among them were Peter and Petra, a couple who met at one of our trainings, fell in love, and eventually married and had a son named Jesse.
Peter, one of the original founders of Open Circles as a nonprofit (“stichting” in Dutch), stuck around long after we transitioned to a profit organization, and it was through our programs that he met Petra.
In June 2002, we all decided to take a break together—a rare free weekend we spent at a rented bungalow.
It was a simple, magical getaway with no agenda other than to relax and be in each other’s company.
Petra and Thom were captivated by soap bubbles and “magic spells,” while Peter and Yoni took every opportunity to play with fire (safely, of course!).
I spent my time soaking up nature and humorously mimicking the creatures we encountered, including a pond-side frog who seemed unimpressed by my efforts.
Naturally, Thom made it her mission to conquer all the adventure play structures at the bungalow park.
Yoni and Peter kept up a friendly rivalry with frisbees and basketballs.
When the weekend wound down, we packed up and headed to the Vierhouten Festival.
It was a shamanic gathering in the Netherlands where we led people in Trancedance, one of our favorite shamanic practices.
We camped out in tents, and Thom got her first drumming lesson from our friend Sander, joining his young son in an impromptu mini drum circle.
That weekend, we learned something invaluable.
We didn’t need to separate work, family, friends, and fun.
They could all exist together, each enriching the other.
It wasn’t about “balancing” work and life, but integrating them—allowing each to complement and energize the other.
And maybe that’s the real meaning of balance.
