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My German–American wiring goes into full alert every time I drive past this ancient, rusted, completely falling-apart VW buggy. I mean… how is this thing still here? Why has no one claimed it, towed it, rescued it—or at the very least hidden it from public view? It’s an eyesore of such magnitude that I feel personally offended every single time I see it. And yet… apparently, I am the only one bothered. My deeply ingrained need for order, beauty, and just a  hint  of aesthetic

More than two years into my spiritual vagabond era, I feel like all the labels once stuck to me have peeled off and blown away. Stripped bare of identifications over here. Even a simple question like “So… what do you do?” turns me into a deer in existential headlights. Right now the most honest answer is: I am here. I am noticing. I am showing up for life and whoever is standing in front of me, including the wild creature living inside of me, with curiosity and presence. Ever

One day in Bhutan, we found ourselves winding up a remote mountain road—majestic views, crisp air, and then… bam . Snow. Not the soft,...