Tag: health

  • Question It

    If we think about all the TV shows, and movies, and even children stories… there’s always some sort of drama. Action. Betrayal. Fear, scarcity. Bad people doing bad things, cruelty, gruesome violence… 

    What does that signal to our nervous system? Seriously. 

    You come home to unwind, and you watch something that’s even more stressful than anything you had been through in your entire life, and we binge watch these things. We even get trauma-bonded with shows. Like Game of Thrones, Handmaid’s Tale… 

    Why? 

    Why does our brain have the need to give itself that weird mix of brain chemicals that we don’t actually need to function as healthy, grounded adults? 

    There’s violence in video games. People even take a game such as the Sims and take it into a torture game where they trap their Sims and witness countless of ways for a Sim to die. 

    Let’s not forget for centuries before bright screens came into our homes, humans actually created all sorts of conflict, drama, violence, brawls, wars, brutal murders… the list goes on. And for what, exactly? Religion? More land? More power? What was the actual point of all the bloodshed? 

    Who even said power equals violence? Why was true power never about empathy, compassion, peace, and getting along with each other without needing any rules throughout our existence? Why was it never about simply co-existing in peace, understanding, and unity? Why did we ever need such divisions, and labels? 

    Why do we do this? Animals don’t kill for joy. They don’t torture another. They don’t simulate such scenarios. Is it because they can’t talk? That they don’t have opposable thumbs? Or simply because they are “less evolved?”

    When did evolution, being intelligent start meaning we’re simply being cruel – whether in a simulation, in the movies, shows, documentaries we watch, or in walking life… 

    Then we get easily trauma-bonded in our relationships, in our lives, the same way we can’t stop binge watching a show that gets our nervous systems on edge. 

    Why is a safely regulated nervous system is such a danger to our brains? I’ll tell you why. Because it’s boring. 

    Regulating emotions is boring. Taking care of yourself when you can simply opt out, choose a distraction over yourself, doing energy work to raise your frequency – and then keeping it there, or even bringing it back up after it goes down because something happens in the external world, is a lot of work. And it is boring to our dopamine wired brains. It’s not even only boring, it’s difficult. 

    Our brains love the easy way. External validation. Chasing anything outside of ourselves to feel whole. Wanting someone to hug us to feel safe. Getting external attention. Getting approval. Our brains love copying the external world instead of diving inward to figure out who we actually are. 

    Humans learn through experience and observation. It’s coded in our DNA. We have evolved this way. Society tells us what’s right and what’s wrong. There are these rules the world’s built on. Then our families, schools, friends… they tell us what to do. Which path to follow. Who we are. We are born with our religion, nationality, language chosen for us. That’s something I had never understood since I was a toddler. How come the choices my parents made, in which I was never consulted simply because I didn’t even exist, dictate my life? 

    And when you stop to question it all, they call it a spiritual awakening. When you stop to question who you really are and why you came here in the first place… you really start standing out as it is currently not an average human feature. 

    It’s not a spiritual awakening. It’s the baseline. The default mode. You’re going back to the basics. They call it breaking free of the Matrix, but let’s face it, as long as we are here, breathing this air and existing in our bodies, we are not escaping the Matrix and ending up in Zion with plugs on our bodies. No. We’re simply existing as sovereign individuals that don’t need much external to feel whole. 

    Not very ideal for a capitalist system who built itself on control, fear, and lies, is it? 

  • Consciousness Has Levels. Most People Never Leave Their Floor

    Imagine this:

    You live on the 3rd floor of a slightly chaotic apartment building. Below you? Questionable shop. Loud offices. Energy that feels like someone is always arguing about invoices. Fear runs the shop. Dark.

    Your floor? Noisy neighbors. Doors slamming, TVs blasting, someone always emotionally spiraling at 2am. Peaceful? Not exactly.

    Now… You discover there are more floors.

    On the 4th floor, people are calm. They meditate. They journal. They casually discuss their dreams over tea like it’s normal behavior.

    5th floor? Full-on soft hippie energy. Everyone’s kind, emotionally available, probably hugging trees and each other. You feel oddly safe there. Connection runs the show.

    6th and 7th? Penthouse vibes. Minimal, pastel colors, soft lights, quiet people who don’t say much, but when they do, it’s exactly what you needed to hear. Annoying, but impressive.

    8th floor gets… interesting. Dark walls, cool decor, very little noise. Feels like time doesn’t exist there. People are calm, logical, not overly emotional. It’s giving astronaut energy. Floating, but grounded. Peace, but make it intellectual. They just know things up there. No need for Google.

    9th floor? Cosmic. Galaxy vibes. Slightly rebellious. These people do not believe in authority, but somehow feel deeply connected to everything. It’s empathetic with boundaries. It’s healing. You don’t question it.

    10th floor is bright. White, gold, silver. Feels like identity matters less up there. It’s less “who am I” and more “what am I here to create?”

    11th floor? Angelic. Light-filled. People there feel like they’re on a mission to bring something good into the world. You automatically lower your voice when you walk in.

    12th floor… penthouse of all penthouses. Everything and nothing at the same time. Unity. Silence. No questions, just… being.

    And then there’s you. Back on the 3rd floor. But here’s the thing: you’ve been upstairs.

    You’ve visited. You’ve seen how it feels. You’ve borrowed a bit of that calm, that clarity, that knowing. You feel the love, the peace.

    Your loud mind is on the 3rd floor. You don’t hear it, just like you can’t hear your loud neighbors when you’re hanging out upstairs.

    So when you come back down, yes, your neighbors are still loud. The chaos is still there. But it doesn’t hit the same. Because now you know there’s more than this.

    And more importantly: you know how it feels. You know how to calm the mind. Because you know how it is when you can’t hear your mind screaming from few floors down. You know silence is more than okay.

    That’s the whole point of this building. You’re not trying to escape your floor. You’re learning how to live there differently. You go upstairs, you learn, you feel it… and then you bring it back down with you.

    That’s integration. Because no one hands you a permanent key to the 10th floor and says “congrats, you live here now.” You earn it by embodying it.

    And that takes practice. We’re here to master energy, not run away from it.

    To feel emotions, but not let them run the entire show.  

    To notice patterns, and choose differently.  

    To outgrow the stories we inherited, the fears we picked up, the limits we were taught.

    At some point, you realize… you actually have more control than you were led to believe.

    Your past? It happened. But it doesn’t get to define the rest of the building.

    Ego softens. Old identities loosen. And what’s left is… you.

    Which sounds simple, until you try sitting alone in a quiet room with no distractions and realize, oh. This is a relationship too.

    Being with yourself, fully, without needing to escape, that’s a skill. I learned that the long way.

    I started dating myself. Actually dating. Taking myself out, spending quality time, making my space feel safe, warm, like somewhere I wanted to be. I turned my apartment into a place my nervous system could relax in. And slowly, something shifted.

    When my energy stopped chasing things outside of me, something inside me stopped running too. That inner push-pull? It calmed down. Inner union. Balance. Stability, consistency, healthy communication, calmness, peace and zen. Zero avoidance, zero chasing. All the things you want in a healthy relationship, right? Now you have it with yourself.

    That’s when I started understanding what people mean by “higher self.” It’s not some distant, mystical version of you floating in another dimension. It’s just… you, on a higher floor.

    And once you reach that floor: once you become that version, it’s not “higher” anymore. It’s just you.

    From there, guidance doesn’t feel external or dramatic. It’s not signs and chaos and decoding everything. It’s quiet. A knowing.

    And even your dreams change. Less messages. Less symbolism. More… your mind doing its natural thing. Processing, clearing, organizing.

    Because at that point, you’re not constantly looking up for answers.

    You’ve already brought them down. And this is one of the things that once you see, you cannot unsee.

  • Staying in Our Bodies (a love story apparently)

    To be able to manifest abundance and actually attract aligned opportunities, we need to be able to stay in our bodies. Not halfway in, halfway out. I’m talking no dissociation, no energy body quietly slipping out the back door. Staying in. Centered.

    And this is something I’ve really had to learn.

    Because leaving my body? That’s been my thing since I was a kid. Getting lost in books, movies, music, dreams, questioning life and reality… It always looked cute from the outside, but it was self-protection. The world felt loud, busy, overstimulating, so I found exits.

    And I still catch myself doing it now. Metro rides. Chaotic streets. Loud trains. People gossiping right next to me like I’m not energetically involved (I am, unfortunately). It doesn’t take much for my system to go, yeah… we’re out.

    That’s when I clock it. I tune into my inner masculine energy; the part of me that grounds, stabilizes, brings me back into the present moment. Not dramatically, not in the middle of a crowded metro cause I need to leave that environment, but when I get out, when I have space. That energy pulls my floating self back in. Where I belong.

    And then I go home. My safe space. My little temple. Calm music, cozy lights, candles, plants, herbal tea… all the things that tell my nervous system: you’re safe now.

    Because that’s really what this is, a nervous system game.

    Warm lights and tea? Safe cave energy. Bright LEDs, noise, energies all day? Survival mode.

    We’ve evolved, but our bodies… not so much.

    And I see it everywhere. People running on edge, overstimulated, constantly exposed to other people’s energies, and whether you’re aware of it or not, your body registers all of it.

    Like yesterday on the bus. I didn’t listen to my intuition telling me to switch seats before the bus stopped (noted), and a man with a very questionable energy sat next to me. Instantly, my system went into threat mode.

    And instead of letting my mind perceive it as a threat, I worked on staying calm. Not labeling it as danger. Letting my body settle instead of feeding it fear.

    Same thing with my cycle. There’s a point where I feel anxious, tight in my chest, a bit on edge, and I used to think something bad is about to happen.  

    Now I know better. It’s a pattern. Hormones. My body doing its thing. And I also know I’m stronger than that wave. It doesn’t get to define my emotional state anymore.

    That shift alone? Life-changing.

    And then there’s my mind… Always preparing. Rehearsing conversations that haven’t happened. Writing texts in advance. Playing out scenarios like it’s a full production.

    All of that keeps me out of the present. So I gently pull it back.

    It’s okay not to be prepared for everything.  

    I’m present in the moment.  

    It’s safe to open my heart again.  

    It’s safe to be here. I’m here. I’m calm. I’m peace. I’m love.

    Not in a forced, robotic way. Just… reminders. Anchors. Because living in a city that doesn’t fully align with me means my nervous system is working overtime. Instead of pouring energy into creating the life I want, sometimes it’s just trying to keep me feeling safe.

    It feels like it’s working extra shifts with no overtime pay. That’s why resets matter. Leaving the city. Being in calmer places. Reconnecting. Even if it’s temporary.

    And on a daily basis, I’ve built a space that supports me. A home that feels like exhale. That’s the balance right now. And honestly… this whole journey? It’s not about escaping the body. It’s about mastering it.

    Staying, even when it’s uncomfortable. Calming the mind. Not letting every sensation turn into a story. Letting the soul lead: but from within the body, not somewhere above it.

    I’ve been asking for guidance on this, (hey my higher self), and I can feel it, the more I stay, the more I stabilize, the more I create from a grounded place.

    And baby… that’s where things actually start to move.

    Because creation was never meant to happen from somewhere else. It happens from right here.

    And now when I honor the part of me that leaves the body when it’s too much for her instead of judging her and perceiving it as failure, my inner child feels safe. She feels seen and understood. Not only my parents didn’t understand her (nor anyone who knew her), I think I didn’t understand her most of my life either. I’m here now. 

    A little tip: Even if you feel like you don’t have access to your higher self, you can still ask for guidance and help along the way, ask, and you shall receive, even when you don’t know where it’s coming from.

  • Logging Back Into Yourself

    For nearly two weeks I felt… offline. Disconnected. Like when your Wi-Fi is technically connected but nothing is loading properly. Pages spin. Tabs freeze. Your system works, but something in the background just isn’t syncing. So naturally, I did what many of us do when we feel disconnected: I tried really hard to reconnect.

    Which, ironically, is how I realized something important. Just because I no longer think myself knots doesn’t mean I’m not still capable of living in my head.

    Apparently, my brain had quietly reopened a few tabs without informing me. So yesterday, in a heroic attempt to reconnect with my soul, I threw a tiny party at home. Party lights on. Headphones on. Solo dance floor activated, with the type of techno I love, not whatever they were playing at that rave last weekend.

    And for a while… the pressure was on too. You know that feeling when you’re trying to relax, which immediately makes relaxing impossible? Exactly.

    Then, on a whim, I started cleaning the house. Took the trash out. Wiped things down. Did the dishes. Did completely unspiritual, deeply glamorous household tasks. And that’s when something funny happened.

    Because my brain was busy with a task, the music quietly hijacked my body. My hips started moving before my mind had time to analyze the situation. Somewhere between cleaning and dancing, I stopped trying. And just like that… I was out of my head.

    Spark: back online. Mood: suddenly upgraded to “I feel like somebody’s watching me” – but in the good way. Like the universe had tuned back into my frequency and said, “Ah yes, there she is.” And I was back. Just like that.

    I ended up dancing for most of the evening. At some point I was moving my hips – yes, sensually, freely. Which might sound like a small thing, but for someone who spent years disconnected from that part of herself, thanks to the glamorous experience of being an overly sexualized teenager (and some other things), those moments are actually a pretty big milestones for me. 

    Turns out reclaiming your own body can look a lot like dancing alone in your living room under questionable disco lighting. Who knew healing would come with such a soundtrack.

    I had that strange feeling of being in two places at once most of the night after I connected to myself. Except this time, for the first time, my brain didn’t immediately jump in with its usual investigative journalism. No analysis. No “what does this mean.” No spiritual detective work. I just… enjoyed it.

    Made a few new memories out of the experience, even if they were slightly surreal. Crazy? Maybe. Fun? Definitely.

    Later in the evening when the dance part was winding down, I processed some old emotional residue from last year – the kind that wasn’t even fully mine to begin with. And honestly, it felt good to let it go. Like clearing files from a system that had been running too many background programs.

    When the main event went offline, I sensed others in my field. The ones I had set aside two weeks ago because it had felt too much. Turns out my mind was having a difficult time. It’s actually pretty enjoyable when you manage to stay sovereign in all of this.

    And the biggest lesson of the night was surprisingly simple: Letting yourself go is not a one-time achievement. It’s a practice.

    Sometimes you drift back into your head. Sometimes life pulls you into overthinking, stress, or survival mode. That doesn’t mean you’ve lost your connection.

    It just means you have to find your way back again. Preferably with good music and a trash bag in hand. Consistency, it turns out, is key: even when it comes to remembering how to be free.

  • REM Sleep, System Updates, and the Cannabis Glitch

    a nice spot to chill.

    Our brains have this wildly underrated built-in system: dreams. Not sexy, not aesthetic, not something you can monetize on Instagram. Just your subconscious clocking in for the night shift.

    This is where your subconscious talks to your conscious mind. This is where the emotional inbox gets sorted. And yes, this is why sometimes you dream about someone and later find out they were going through something intense. Humans are highly pattern-detecting, emotionally attuned creatures. Sometimes the overlap is eerie. Sometimes it’s just your nervous system being very, very perceptive.

    But one thing is not up for debate: your subconscious loves processing at night.

    That exam anxiety. That 200-meter butterfly race from 10 years ago. That relationship your body still hasn’t fully metabolized. That childhood fall your nervous system never quite filed away.

    It processes. It organizes. It releases.

    And yes, it often shows up in those completely unhinged dreams where your ex’s mother is chasing you through a house with no exits, or your swimsuit rips five minutes before the meet. Glamorous? No. Effective? Very.

    There is a difference between subconscious purge dreams and premonition dreams, and we can absolutely open that rabbit hole another day. Today we are staying on Earth.

    Because I have a theory.

    What happens when you keep interrupting this beautifully designed nightly cleanup system?

    Plenty of long-term cannabis users report dreaming less… or not at all. And the plot twist? When they stop for a while, the dreams come back like they’ve been waiting backstage for years: vivid, intense, sometimes overwhelming.

    Coincidence? Maybe. But neurologically, it’s not shocking.

    Cannabis tends to dampen REM sleep: the phase most associated with vivid dreaming and emotional memory processing. Translation: it can absolutely change how your brain does its nighttime housekeeping.

    In small doses it can feel like a temporary patch. Long term, though, it can behave less like a fix and more like a background bug, quietly interrupting processes your system was designed to run automatically.

    Here’s where my observation gets spicy.

    Cannabis can create distance from the self while simultaneously making you feel like you’re gaining perspective. You feel disconnected from yourself enough that you can observe your life without fully feeling it. For short-term relief, that can feel like a gift. For long-term emotional integration? It can quietly become avoidance in a very cozy outfit.

    I’m not here to tell anyone to quit overnight. That’s not realistic, and honestly, not helpful.

    But many sensitive, perceptive, high-awareness people reach for cannabis because their systems are overloaded. It feels regulating in the moment. The uncomfortable possibility? Over time, it may delay the very processing that would actually free up your nervous system.

    If your subconscious had been allowed to fully process that relationship from 10 years ago… would your body have entered the next one differently? For many people, the honest answer is: probably yes.

    Here’s the part nobody loves hearing: You are stronger than your coping habits.

    Your system is built to metabolize emotion, memory, and stress. Dreams are part of that design. They are not here to torture you with weird symbolic theatre. They are your brain taking the trash out at night.

    Skip the trash night for too long… and the house starts smelling funny.

    If the brain is a computer, dreams are the automatic updates and background cleaning. Regularly numbing that process is a bit like clicking “update later” for ten years straight. Cannabis doesn’t delete the files, it just postpones the processing queue.

    Eventually? The system slows. Things glitch. Simple emotional tasks take five business days. Your brain already knows what it’s doing. The real question is whether you’re letting it do the job.

    And in an era that is culturally – and yes, astrologically – pushing more people toward embodiment, regulation, and actual forward movement… many are going to feel the nudge to stop postponing their own processing.

    Because the next chapter isn’t about floating. It’s about functioning.

  • The Art of Being Grounded

    (Or: Why I Can’t Create Anything If My Nervous System Is in the Stratosphere)

    I came back from an 8-day trip a different person. Not in a “sold all my belongings and joined a commune” way. More like… my body quietly changed the locks and informed my brain it will be operating under new management.

    The trip itself was basically a soft-launch wellness retreat I did not plan but deeply benefited from: three therme visits, saunas, cold dips in two Alpine rivers and two Alpine lakes, breathwork, herbal teas, excellent Swiss food, and good people with good energy. Just vibes and oxygen. 

    And somethings just… Clicked.

    For almost a year, I hadn’t really wanted alcohol or meat. But I kept consuming both because, you know… society. I like beer. I enjoy a Negroni in Milano. Some of my past Negroni decisions were, frankly, character-building. But on this trip, watching someone I’d never expect casually choose alcohol-free beer did something. Suddenly my occasional beers and cocktails felt… unnecessary. Irrelevant. Pointless.

    Same with meat. I spent a week around vegetarians who cooked really well. When I tried meat again, my body rejected it like a bad situationship. Same products I’d eaten for years: suddenly – no thank you. So I bought the vegetables. The fruits. My mother is thrilled. Balance has been restored.

    Here’s the thing though, this isn’t really about food or drinks. It’s about grounding. It’s about self-love. Clean eating signals nourishment, love, being taken care of to the body. And sweetie… Self-love is where it all begins. The sweet spot where you are recharged, balanced, held steady by yourself.

    I feel a shift in the air. Call it planetary transits, the Wood Snake shedding its skin, the Fire Horse warming up, or just collective nervous system fatigue. Or spring finally getting a little closer after a dead winter. Whatever language you prefer, something is moving. And my body wants to prepare. To get stronger. To move. To be able to hold what’s coming instead of dissociating through it.

    Which brings me to the real point of this post (finally, hello): You cannot stay in creator mode if your body is ungrounded. But you also cannot skip the observer mode that teaches you what you’re meant to create.

    For a long time, I was observing. Learning. Watching patterns: mine, others’, especially the ones mirrored back to me by people I love. And here’s the uncomfortable truth: you cannot create for someone else. You cannot love someone into alignment. You cannot do the work on their behalf, no matter how spiritually poetic and romantic that sounds to a virgo.

    Trust me. I tried. So when my hands were tied externally, I turned inward. Not necessarily dramatically like packing my bags and leaving for Bali, but in a day-to-day, simple and practical one.

    For me it now looks like Ecstatic dance to feel my body, beats that move the hips (science will back me up on this), slow evenings with candles, deep relaxation playlists, oils, and ambient lighting, breath-work and meditation before bed, root vegetables, mushrooms (yes, the kind they sell in the grocery store), red, orange, and yellow foods, less coffee, more herbal tea, and the usual balance board-yoga flow, workouts, skateboarding, hiking, cold plunges, spas, connecting to nature in every chance I get.  

    I made a new playlist with beats that hit the sweet spot, the kind that get your fire moving, feel a little ecstatic, and lift you without asking too many questions. They hit deep and raise the mood. I don’t know about you, but if I had any blockages down there or was feeling low… this playlist would absolutely be my go-to lifesaver.

    Basically: things that tell the body “you are safe, you are here, you can land now.”

    And from that place, creation becomes possible. Not as a magic trick, but as a side effect. The more stable you are, the calmer the mind gets, the flatter the emotional spikes become, and the stronger your energetic field – and emotional boundaries – feel. The more aligned you are with yourself. And that’s the point. Okay, maybe not the whole point… but it’s definitely somewhere past the chaos and well into the good part.

    I know it’s been only two days since I got back from those eight days that felt like eight months. And honestly? Time has been doing parkour since March last year: it has moved like it’s on fast-forward whenever I actually do the work. December and January felt normal. February immediately said “no” and accelerated again. Apparently, when you’re aligned, time stops pretending.

    So if you’re stuck creatively, emotionally, spiritually: before asking what you should do next, ask something simpler: Is my body grounded enough to hold what I’m trying to create? 

  • Cold Exposure, Nervous Systems & Why I Voluntarily Freeze for Fun

    There is a very specific cosmic joke reserved for people who enjoy discomfort. In my case, it’s called cold water immersion or going out undressed in freezing temperatures to feel the icy air nibble on my skin. While normal people are inside sipping tea at -4°C, I went swimming in the Black Sea for fun, and then sipped my herbal tea in my thermos at the beach. 

    There is actual science behind this madness, and no, I didn’t arrive here informed, researched, or wearing a lab coat. I stumbled into it the intuitive way: a few years ago I noticed that cold air and cold water calmed my very fried nervous system almost instantly. That was enough proof for me. 

    Let’s dive into the cold waters now.  

    Your nervous system isn’t weak. It just forgot how badass it is. It basically runs on two modes:Sympathetic (fight, flight, panic, existential dread, “why did I send that text”) and Parasympathetic (rest, digest, calm, actual peace).

    Most of us live permanently in the first one.

    Cold exposure forces a controlled shock. It rips you out of autopilot and drops you straight into regulated survival mode. And when you come out of that icy panic bubble alive, your nervous system goes, “Oh. We survived. Cool. Guess we can relax now.” That’s vagus nerve activation, baby. Emotional regulation, improved stress tolerance, less dramatic reactions to life in general.

    Cold water is basically emotional push-ups. When it hits, your body releases endorphins, norepinephrine, and adrenaline: a chemical cocktail that starts as “this is illegal” and ends as “I can handle literally anything now.” Basically my favorite type of cocktail. Too bad they don’t serve it at regular bars. Who wants to open that type of bar with me? Anyhow, over time, your system remembers this. Future stressors feel smaller because your body knows it survived worse.

    And here’s the important part: emotional regulation isn’t just talk therapy. You can journal until your wrist cramps, but if your body doesn’t know how to handle stress, your nervous system won’t either. Cold exposure yanks you out of your head and into your body. Thought spirals stop. Panic becomes manageable. You’re present instead of catastrophizing your entire existence.

    Cold + conscious breathing is where the bliss happens. Your heart races, your breath spikes, muscles tighten. that’s automatic. But if you slow your breathing instead of panicking, and relax your clenching muscles, you’re literally training your brain to stay calm under pressure. That’s neuroplasticity. Every time you relax enough that you don’t shiver, your nervous system levels up.

    And no, this doesn’t make you emotionally numb. Quite the opposite. It builds emotional resilience. You still feel deeply, you just don’t collapse every time life pokes you with a stick. Perhaps soft core, hard shell in action. Which is one of my favorite phrases.

    Because mental strength isn’t a personality trait. It’s a muscle. And just like any muscle, that can be trained. Cold water is nervous system boot camp. Emotional fastball training. A reminder that you can face discomfort, breathe through it, and come out clearer on the other side.

    In my case, cold exposure has evolved from “mental health experiment” to full-blown personality trait. Somewhere between frozen swims and icy air nibbling at my skin, my brain decided this is how we get dopamine now. Is it an addiction? Possibly. But there are worse addictions than voluntarily freezing yourself to feel alive.

    At this point, I’m just hoping to find equally unhinged humans who think a cute date involves cold water, deep breaths, and laughing hysterically afterward. 

    If that’s wrong, I don’t want to be right.

  • Don’t Run From Yourself (You’ll Catch Up Anyway)

    At some point in life, you realize there is no such thing as “the future.” Not in the dramatic psychic hotline sense, but in the mildly inconvenient, existential way. Everything is apparently happening at once, and time is just… how we keep ourselves from panicking.

    Which means the thing you’ve been running toward (or away from) has probably been right there the whole time. Some of us feel things before reality as we perceive catches up. We get called “psychic.” No. We are just tuned into time differently than the average person.

    What we like to label intuition, telepathy, or how did I know that? isn’t a superpower. It’s not witchcraft. It’s not even particularly sexy. It’s just… being tuned in. To yourself. To others you resonate to. To your patterns. To that quiet inner signal that’s been trying to get your attention while you were busy refreshing your phone and questioning every decision you’ve ever made.

    It’s not mind-reading. It’s just frequency recognition. Once you know how something feels: a person, a city, a situation, you can sense it from miles away. Like a radio station. Some frequencies fade. Some don’t. Some stay stubbornly on air like a song you didn’t ask Spotify to play but now somehow know all the lyrics to.

    Have I mastered turning every frequency off? Absolutely not. But I have mastered turning my back. And I mastered not getting swayed away with all the coincidences and reminders that still manage to find me everyday. I mastered not giving an emotional response, other than cracking up once in a while when they get too ridiculous. And honestly, that’s an underrated life skill.  

    The more connected you are to yourself, the less random life feels. Patterns start revealing themselves. Yours. Theirs. Life’s. And yes, awareness can feel a little boring. Like being the only sober person at a party. But it’s also what keeps you from replaying the same emotional storyline with a different cast and a slightly worse ending.

    That’s one of the points life on Earth tries teaching. Not running from yourself. Not outsourcing your direction to fate, tarot cards, exes, or the universe’s customer service department, which in my humble opinion, doesn’t exist the way we wish it would.

    Because when you’re connected to you, you already know where you’re going. And suddenly the people and opportunities that appear make sense. Suddenly you’re less busy forcing outcomes and more comfortable letting timing do its thing.

    Once you start noticing how interconnected everything is: people, places, timing, moods, you notice something else too: alignment is contagious. When you’re aligned with yourself, aligned people show up. Aligned opportunities knock. Aligned chaos waits politely instead of kicking the door in.

    Funny how that works. The moment I stopped obsessing over destiny and started trusting myself (while handing the truly uncontrollable bits over to God), life aligned in ways I never could’ve planned. I wanted the “go with the flow” last year. I got it. Just not in the aesthetic, Pinterest-board way I imagined.

    Turns out clarity doesn’t always arrive loudly. It comes with fires that burn down the masks, storms that blow out the dead skin away, and then it just you on the shoulder and says, Relax. You’ve been on the right path longer than you think. 

  • Vision Board (or: How the Universe Reads Fine Print)

    Last year, I made a vision board. You know, one of those very intentional, aesthetically curated collages where you casually tell the universe, “No pressure, but this please.” It was stacked: alpine scenery, river swims, Bern, mindful girl energy, techno nights, outdoorsy hobbies, sunshine, maybe even a puppy. Very balanced. Very “I have my life together” coded.

    I didn’t actually hang it on the wall though. Not because I didn’t believe in it, more because I didn’t feel like explaining my long-term soul vision to short-term situations. Which, in hindsight, was already a clue. And frankly, none of those situations lasted long enough to earn a tour of my inner world anyway back in the day when I still gave dating in Italy a shot. It was pointless when the type of guy I know I want belongs to a whole other geography, and linguistic background. 

    Here’s the plot twist: almost everything on that board happened. Plus some surprises that were aligned with what was on the board. Even the puppy my parents ended up adopting because she accidentally ended up on their doorstep turned out to be black and white instead of black and brown, but we have a new puppy. Not magically overnight, not in a neat linear order, but unmistakably so. Except for one thing. The career part. That one sat there looking… vague. Half-hearted. Like a placeholder slide in a presentation you swear you’ll fix later.

    Because while I apparently know exactly what I want in love, lifestyle, geography, energy, rhythm, scenery, temperature, and background soundtrack… But career-wise? Big blinking question mark. Creative fog. “We’ll circle back.”

    Which got me thinking: maybe vision boards aren’t magic wish lists. Maybe they’re mirrors. They don’t create clarity, they respond to it.

    When you’re clear, life moves. When you’re vague, life shrugs and says, “Cool, I’ll improvise, and show you what you want.”

    We don’t attract opportunities by being perfect. We attract them by being honest about what we want. And when we don’t know yet, choosing to figure it out might actually be the first real decision. That choice alone seems to flip a switch. Suddenly paths appear. Detours make sense. Timing reveals itself retroactively.

    The irony? The board was never the point. Clarity was. Alignment was. Frequency was.

    I wasn’t attracting aligned opportunities in areas where I was undecided, and that wasn’t punishment, it was feedback.

    So maybe the real takeaway isn’t “make a better vision board,” but “get clearer with yourself.” And if you’re not there yet, at least be clear about wanting clarity. This little game called life seems to respect that.

    As for the rest? It tends to work itself out. Just not always in the font you expected.

    And honestly, where would the fun be if it did? 

  • (Almost) White Christmas

    Yesterday, the air smelled like snow. You know that smell, the kind that sneaks up on you, taps you on the shoulder, and whispers, “Put your expectations down, but trust me anyway.” I didn’t get my hopes up. I never do. I just knew. And sure enough, it snowed. The first snow of the season here.

    Apparently, I don’t just travel with actual baggage; I bring weather systems. Missed the November snow in Bern, caught it back home in Bulgaria. Timing has never been my strongest skill, but when it hits, it hits.

    I’m reunited with my parents and our dogs for Christmas and New Year’s, sitting in my parents’ new handmade sunroom while snow falls politely outside. Courtesy of my father, who can build actual structures with his hands. Which explains… A lot. Apparently this is why I have a soft spot for men who can build things. Especially out of wood. Especially if they don’t need an instruction manual. I, too, have woodworking plans. Turns out it’s genetic. The blueprint was there all along.

    Now, let’s be honest. I’d choose Alpine cold over this humid, windy chaos any day. This is the kind of cold that seeps into your bones uninvited. And yet, yes, I’m still considering a swim in the Black Sea, despite it feeling like minus seven degrees outside. Limits? Never met her. My idea of fun doesn’t need refinement, just a matching level of insanity and other humans who hear “freezing water” and think, “Perfect.” Especially if that’s a mutually agreed first-date plan. 

    After Christmas dinner, and an ambitious amount of mulled wine at apéro, I slept for twelve uninterrupted hours. Twelve. A coma, really. A well-earned one after a week of sleep deprivation and questionable decisions.

    And then… the dreams.

    Three different men starred in them. One by one. Like a rotating cast. I feel dirty, in the best possible way. Real me is on a wholesome family holiday. Dream me, however, had a packed social calendar, dream dates. One was the regular. The recurring character. Always there, stopped complaining about it, there is no point. This time particularly committed to reminding me what I was allegedly missing out on. The other two were new. And new is always delightful. I was eventually pulled back to reality by our puppy launching himself into bed like a furry alarm clock with zero respect for narrative closure. 

    And somewhere between the snow, the wine, the dreams, and the dog hair, it hit me how far I’ve come since September. Back then, I was still mad at him. Actively. Professionally. Now? Life is too good to bother. Plus, I closed the loop. Finally. Turns out some things don’t need force, just timing. And a little snowfall for dramatic effect.

    I’m out. I’m free. Free to live and enjoy the absolute crap out of myself, like a graduate freshly released into the world, slightly unhinged, deeply grateful, and fully convinced that the best part might still be ahead.

    And honestly? I’ll take that kind of white Christmas any year. Light and fluffy. Good vibes, BBQ meats with a side of potato salad with homemade French Dressing.