I didn't expect to cry while writing this post. Freedom is easy to take for granted when you've never lived without it. My parents grew up in East Germany behind a wall. I didn't. And the older I get, the more I realise how much that difference has shaped my life. Sometimes I imagine a conversation with my younger self... "You moved to another country by yourself?" Yes. "You speak English every day?" Most days more than German. "You can just buy a plane ticket and go?" Yes. "

EAT. PRAY. LOVE. or “I'm going to Italy and then I'm going to David's Guru's Ashram in India and I'm going to end the year in Bali.” I watched the movie and read the book for the first time during my yoga teacher training in Bali. Which, looking back, feels almost ironic. At the time, I thought: Beautiful story. Nice in theory. Not something people actually do, right? And yet, here I am. Still working until Summer but quietly preparing for my own version of it: I’m going hom

Not in a dramatic, all-or-nothing way. But in the moment you realise… you can’t go back. The phrase is often linked to Hernán Cortés who destroyed his ships so there was no option to retreat. No plan B. Just commitment to what’s ahead. For me, it looked a bit less dramatic. But just as real. A few weeks ago, I resigned from my corporate role. Not because anything was wrong. But because something in me had shifted and I couldn’t ignore it anymore. During my yoga teacher train