From a young age, I learned to rely on myself. That had to do with the family I grew up in, where I was very much left to myself.
There’s a moment I still remember clearly: I switched schools. From a big school to a smaller one, with more personal attention. And suddenly I was on the other side of the fence. Literally. I looked at my old life, at everything that had felt familiar — and I knew I didn’t belong there anymore. I had to move on. Walk my own path. And that was okay. It marked the beginning of a movement inward. Toward awareness. Very slowly, I started to feel that I had an inner world. And how vulnerable I was. But also… that I couldn’t lean on the world around me. Even though there were good people — I saw that too. Like my teacher, who felt like a safe presence.
Later, around sixteen, I travelled with a few teachers and classmates to a developing country on the other side of the world. A place largely destroyed by a natural disaster. Everything had collapsed. There was almost nothing left — except the people. And nature.
Such poverty… and at the same time, such pure beauty. I saw children playing in open sewers, with nothing at all. And yet they radiated a kind of joy I’ve never forgotten. Something honest, open — a kind of zest for life that touched me deeply.
When I came home to my own room, I looked at my bed, my closet, the walls, the ceiling — and I couldn’t believe what I saw. So many things. So much abundance. And yet… it felt empty. That was my first real culture shock. And it planted a seed. Something in me knew: the outside world is not where it’s all about. There is something else. Something I couldn’t quite grasp yet, but that has called to me ever since.
From that moment on, I slowly kept going further inward. At first carefully. Later, because I had no other choice. Because I started to realise: the outside world doesn’t really hold what I’m looking for. Not truly. Of course, beautiful things happen out there. You can create, connect, share with others. But you don’t need to expect anything grand from it. You don’t need to place your happiness out there — because it lies somewhere else.
It lies in the space within yourself. In that place where you can rest. Where you can feel what lives inside you, without judgment — but also with attention. Where you can be present with what is moving in you. In that stillness, you can begin to explore: what lives in me? What do I truly want?
You notice it in something small — a feeling that arises, a curiosity. Maybe suddenly you think: I’d love to work with my hands, I want to be outside more, I want to dance, write, create. From that inner space, a movement begins. An action that makes sense, because it’s truly yours.
Not the old voice from the past — from school, or how your parents thought things should be. But something new. Something unfolding. Something that grows from within you, because you feel it. In your inner world, you’re allowed to get curious about yourself. And from there, slowly expand. From sincerity. Because it comes from you.
And the deeper I went, the more I realised: the balance between inside and outside matters, but the centre of gravity lies within. Because that’s where your autonomy, your strength, your joy for life starts to grow. Not by constantly checking what the world wants from you, but by listening to what you need from yourself.
When you stop moving along with the crowd all the time, and start asking: What do I need? When am I tired? When do I want to sing, or cry, or do nothing at all? Only then your I begins to grow. Only then can you be truly alone, without feeling lonely. And then you can connect with others — freely, openly, without losing yourself.
Because as humans, we do need each other. A group to laugh with, to be silent with. To share what it is to be human: scared, intense, full of passion, searching. In that recognition, something opens up.
And at the same time, you may learn that your happiness starts inside. In the moment. In being. In the sun. In the rain.
If you can feel that — then it’s enough.
And maybe that’s what I really wanted to say.
Because through my own path, I also feel a strong, spiritual connection within myself. One that comes from inside, and doesn’t need to be touched from the outside. I’ve learned — and life has shown me again and again — that everyone carries their own truth. And that truth doesn’t lie outside of you, but within. Right there where you are.
One of the most powerful voices I’ve come across is Dr. Edith Eger — a Holocaust survivor, psychologist, and author of The Choice. In her conversation with Oprah, she shares how even in the darkest moments, we still have the power to choose how we relate to life. Her story reminds me that true freedom begins within. A deep, soulful echo of what it means to come home to yourself.