Sitting With What Is
Silence
Last month, I sat on a stone in the golden evening sun, my eyes resting on four horses grazing in silence, the occasional breath through their nose.
The Eiger mountain stood tall behind the field, its presence serene and protective.
I had spotted my new neighbours from the kitchen window. And had come to visit them. Open-hearted.
When I was 10 years old, I loved horses. I referred to them as my best friends in my diary. I felt they understood me in ways humans didn't.
That same year, I marched through the streets of Friedrichshain with my human friend - two little girls with loud voices and small hands, holding up a sign that read: Stop the war.
We walked past grown-ups who barely looked, believing that doing something was better than doing nothing.
Maybe protesting has always been my way of feeling less helpless in the face of injustice.
It was the one thing I could do to show up. To speak up. Knowing that my individual presence might not make a difference, but the sum of us could.
Awareness
Horses are social animals, much like us.
As I watched them, I tried to understand their interactions.The gray-spotted horse kneeled and rolled onto its back, legs in the air.
The larger brown horse, with a long black mane, followed; possibly a sign that they felt safe, and comfortable.
In front of them, the white horse kept grazing, ears tilted forward.
Horses can rotate their ears independently, turning them up to 180 degrees to monitor even the faintest sounds.
I thought about how they never stop reading the world around them, a skill we are losing as we escape into our screens.
They are aware that, even here, surrounded by mountains and evergreen, there is an illusory sense of peace.
As a prey species, their instincts never rest; their ancestors survived by fleeing, and that readiness lives in them still.
And if I am honest with myself, there is no real peace for any of us while the systems we belong to are being eroded rather than revived.
There is no separation in our pain. The interconnectedness of all things — alive and non-alive — does not allow us to hide.
We are watching a genocide live on our screens. The destruction is not done in our name, but it is funded by our taxes. We are witnessing the ugliest face of humanity.
How can anyone be at peace?
We can try to numb ourselves, but I know: to numb is to lose ourselves. To accept this world as normal. To disappear.
There are no protests in Grindelwald.
A part of me wants to be 10 again and start my own.
Emotions
Instead, I went for a walk, my emotions raging. I found a stone to sit on, where the sunbeams warmed my skin. I let the sadness in. I invited the frustration, the anger, and the pain of existing to sit with me.
I inhaled, exhaled deeply. As I stepped toward the horses and stretched my hand, they reminded me:
Change doesn't always happen through fight and resistance.
Sometimes it happens through connection. Through imagination. Through creation.
I introduced myself to each of them. Hesitated, not wanting to impose. But their calmness calmed me. The heaviness in my heart softened.
Questions
I wish I had answers for how to cope. But I don't.
I used to think that as we grow older, we find more clarity. Instead, the more answers I get, the more questions I have.
The difference is I have now come to learn how to hold space for these questions, without needing to answer them.
Or perhaps how to find my own answers, without believing they must be right for everyone.
In confusing times, it is easy to fall into the trap of preaching and pretending to know. To simplify issues because it feels easier.
If I catch myself in a low moment, I am pushing the questions away, especially those that come up in the form of doubts.
Give me some peace of mind. Not now. I just want to turn off my thoughts. Turn on one of the many screens. Distract me.
So the work I do to stay open-hearted isn't about becoming a better version of myself.
The questions we are asking are bringing us closer to ourselves and to each other.
It is about becoming better at giving love, living truer to ourselves, even if it feels risky.
Stillness
Because the emotions find their way out, one way or another.
When we don't give them space or when we don't allow in the pain and joy, the body gets tense, and our voices change.
And the ones who feel it are the people we are surrounded by.
That day, I felt the emotions building like thunder announcing itself, a restless heartbeat.
I dressed myself, walked down the road, crossed the river, and found a stone covered in golden evening sun.
I sat down, my eyes resting on four horses grazing in silence.
Life Lately
I have said it all. Life lately is full of questions.
The child in me thought I would have it all figured out by now. At 33, I am embracing living in the in-between. Not where I was, not yet where I am going.
I recently found a word for it. Liminality — the space between what was and what is.
My body moves through the hotel walls while my mind projects what is next, the outlines still blurry. I tell myself: this moment is part of the journey, too.
A Line That Kept Me Thinking
"Each of us is born with an innate desire to learn, grow, and have beneficial effects on our families, communities, and ecosystems. For us, a meaningful and healthy life necessarily includes contributions to larger systems that help to make the whole world better for everyone." — Carol Sanford
Little Things I've Been Doing
Amidst all the questions and vulnerability, I am trying to prioritise sleep, rest, and gentleness.
The demanding work is taking its stretch on all of us, making it necessary to care for our bodies and minds.
Are you drinking enough water?, I ask a colleague, and ask myself the same.
Sometimes care is found in the smallest acts: checking in on each other, offering a listening ear, and respecting when someone says Thank you, but I'm not ready to talk.
Latest on the Blog
As summer in the Swiss Alps has finally arrived, I am taking some time off to be in nature. To hike, explore, and bathe in cold mountain lakes.
Behind the scenes, I'm working on creating more content for Threeminds Travel.
However, with the pressure of high season, I have come to realize that what I need most is to be in touch with my environment.
I am not used to sitting all day. And I still don't really like it. I need movement, texture, smell, and sounds. I will be back with updates soon. Happy summer holidays!
Recommended
BOOKS / MUSIC / PODCASTS / FILMS / ARTWORK
In the second book I have read by Carol, she explores how entrepreneurs can spark fundamental, systemic change in culture, society, industry, and governance, using examples like Oprah and Larry Page, co-founder of Google. Through her regenerative lens, it is less about agreeing with someone and more about understanding different archetypes of leadership, unlocking knowledge that can leverage change. Practical and thought-provoking, it offers tools to design your own path for responsible impact.
Part memoir, part cultural study, Ancient Futures reflects on traditional life in Ladakh and the changes brought by modernisation and globalisation. Without idealising the past, Helena reflects on the wisdom in local knowledge, community interdependence, and ecological balance, and how these can crack under the pressures of a global economy. It is a thoughtful film questioning what progress means, inspiring to think globally but act locally.
Want to Share Something Too?
If you have made it this far, thank you for reading. I know your time is precious, and I hope you found something here.
Maybe a shared question, a moment of stillness, or simply the comfort of knowing we are not alone in what we experience.
If these words resonated, I would be grateful if you shared them with someone who might welcome them, too.
And I would love to hear from you! What’s been circling in your mind? What’s been moving you, shifting your perspective, or bringing you joy?
Your replies are always a gift to receive.
With love, Zaza
