There’s a historic mansion on the northeast corner of San Francisco’s Alamo Square Park where several dozen people live, spending their days immersed in ascetic concentration. When a gong rings to announce a meal, the residents drift into the dining room to fuel their bodies, then return to their rooms or to the basement. The house, notable for its ornate staircases and dark wood paneling, also has a cold-plunge tub and spaces for meditation. Mind-altering substances aren’t allowed, unless you count the little cans of green tea in the mini fridges. Every weekend, bags of laundry are whisked away, then returned, fluffed and folded. Some inhabitants go about their days wearing fuzzy robes.
On Mondays, everyone gathers for a brief presentation at dinner. At one such gathering recently, one of the group’s leaders, Dave Fontenot, addressed the room: “Close your eyes and take a deep breath, and just arrive right here, right now.” Then, eyes still closed, he reminded his flock what they were there for. “It’s the eighth week of the batch,” he continued, meaning it was almost time to pitch their startups to investors. “It’s crunch time.” One by one, the residents stood up and gave quick productivity updates from their week of work: another $500,000 in annual recurring revenue, 10,000 more user signups.
