We don't sell the fish – we give you the rod.
Reset
2014
The day before it happened I wrote a question in my diary: Do I need therapy?
And answered it myself. Yes.
The universe listened. And answered. In its own way. Radical. Unforgettable.
They called it delirium. A state that arises when the body suddenly stops what it had been accustomed to for years.
I ended up in a psychiatric ward. Not because of what had really happened. I didn't want to tell anyone that. I claimed gaming addiction. World of Warcraft. Alcohol. Although I had stopped drinking a few days before.
In reality I knew I am here for a different reason. I needed a reset. And I had received one.
In the psychiatric ward I met an older woman. She could barely move. I was not looking for a mission. I simply talked with her. I listened to her. I encouraged her.
Eventually we played table tennis.
From barely being able to move to playing table tennis.
That was the first moment I sensed who I might be. Or what works through me.
Not I healed her. I only listened. I only gave space.
That is so important for people. To be heard. To be seen. To simply have someone there.
I wanted to leave earlier. My task there was fulfilled. I felt that.
A nurse said to me you need a connection to something. You need to join a direction. Belong somewhere.
He meant well. He was thinking in old structures.
Alliances. Groups. Beliefs. A church. A club. A system.
I understood what he meant. And I decided – no.
I join no one. I am my own path. I need no structure to tell me who I am. I am guided and protected. Wherever I am.
The salmon needs no club either.
The nurse also spoke about alcohol. Not as addiction. As industry.
Just think of the Ruhr area. Of carnival season. Alcohol. Taxis. Prostitution. Entire industries that live from the suffering of others. And call it economy.
That is the same as factory farming. The same as the Ministry of Truth. The same as money hoarded while others go thirsty.
Systems that say – this is normal. This is the economy. This is how the world works.
No. This is how the world worked.
2026 – The rewrite begins.
I did not go to the psychiatric ward to be healed. I went to heal.
Not myself. Someone else.
I did not know that then. Today I do.
The ego died in 2014. Not the body. The ego.
And since then I see it differently. The ego is useful. Like a tool. You pick it up when you need it. And put it down when you don't.
That is the reset. That is the reason I write. That is the reason the tree grows.
We are guided and protected. Wherever we are.
A yoga teacher once said before class:
Please leave your ego outside. Imagine the ego is a little dog. Tell it: Sit. Stay. And then it sits there. The whole class. Panting. Waiting. Wagging its tail.
The ego is not the enemy. It is not evil. It is simply a dog.
It wants to help. It wants to protect. It wants to be useful.
But in yoga – in channeling – in writing – in letting go –
Sit. Stay.
It waits happily. When you ask it kindly.