She brought her yogurt to the porch and watched the sunrise pink ahead of her. It was going to be too warm to work in the afternoon; she figured she’d go to the site soon.

Then her husband appeared in the doorway of their cottage. “There’s fresh yogurt,” she offered, hoisting her bowl toward him.

He said no: he’d wait for hot cereal. But he joined her on the porch, half-sat on the stone wall around it, sailed one sandaled foot out and back. “You’re looking pleased with yourself,” she smiled at him. Her dark hair caught the sunshine and she leaned toward him until her hip touched the wall. “And you’re the reason,” he grinned. He slid his right palm up and over her hip beneath her shift. “Last night was awesome.”

Their maid approached them with bowls of steaming grain and cups of fresh juice. She set her tray on its tripod and left them to their breakfast.

“The new group looks promising,” she said after a sip of orange juice. “It’s a big one; we’d better greet them together. I don’t think we should do any touring this morning. It’ll be too hot to work this afternoon, so we can tour and talk then.”

He left the wall and walked to the food. “I love working with you. You make a great job better. I’m a fair hand at cranking them up, but you’re magic at it.”

“That’s partly because I believe it. We really do feel better when we work. Resting after labor feels wonderful. And labor itself can be cathartic, mind-emptying.” She set her cup down and opened her arms wide. She spun slowly to look in the sunshine.

“You don’t have to sell me, angel. You don’t even really have to sell them. You just have to distract them from figuring out they could do it themselves.”

“It wouldn’t be the same,” she countered. “You’re the one who taught me that. There’s an energy created when people work together.” She glanced at her empty cup on the tray. “I’m restless this morning. I think I’ll head over. You?”

“I’ll be there.” He paused before his next spoonful to accept and return her kiss. Then he sat on the wall again and watched her walk away. He smiled at her trim back and neat movements.

The sun was fully above the eastern horizon. Its rays lit the opalescent stones of the cottage with all the colors of sand. His wife’s form was two hundred yards distant when he set down his bowl and began to follow. He reminisced as he walked. It was only two years ago that he recruited her. He recollected his first sight of her: one face among many listening to his words, but with open dark eyes that encouraged him to speak more expansively. As much as he tried to direct his speech and gaze evenly over the attendees, he found himself returning to her visage too often.

His mentor had warned him of this. He knew that the class-generated energy produced quick infatuations and often marriages. But it would never be appropriate to direct that sort of attention to someone who wasn’t even enrolled. He worked instead to comport himself, led the attendees through one of his most inspirational introductions, and enrolled almost all of them, including her.

They grew close during the ensuring two-week class, and they found that they teamed better than with any other partner each tried. Now they recruited together. He’d been brought in by his mentor, he became hers, and at this point they each mentored others. All of the benefits of recruiting – the giving back what they’d received, the communality of effort, the group energy, the muscles – were better for being shared.

He counted his blessings and collected his charisma as he walked the last fifty yards to the already-assembled group of new enrollees. His wife spoke first. “Welcome to your new class,” she began, “in all senses of the word. We’re here to build together, and to grow in the course of that building. My partner has been a member for years now, but I’m relatively new to this. Let me briefly describe what brought me in and how it has been for me.”

There were about a hundred people assembled, but she had no trouble being heard in the natural amphitheater. She described her former luxurious but empty life, her progressive realizations through the class, and her present happiness and fulfillment. “We’re all well-born here, so we run the risk of emptiness. Undisciplined luxury comes at a very high price. The fact is, we feel better if we use our bodies wisely several hours a day. We grow stronger, our bodies function more smoothly and give us more pleasure, our minds achieve necessary room. The fact is, avoiding good labor means avoiding happiness. “But we’re under some constraint. It will be too hot after noon to work the way we want, so we’re going to start now, and explain later.” She panned the audience with her warm eyes, and smiled. “Ready?”