Just a few words ahead… Did I ever mention that I LOOOVEEE what we Germans call “Bücher-Wühltische”? It literally means something like “books-digging-tables” in English. Libraries and sometimes also big supermarkets have such tables set for book lovers from time to time, and they can be true treasure chests.

One of the last books I found while “digging” has, despite originating in the USA, been given the German title:

“So this is my life.”

In German: “Das also ist mein Leben.”

And it furthermore says in the title: “And I want you to know that I’m both happy and sad at the same time, and I’m still trying to figure out how that can be.”

The book is about a 15-year-old boy who’s addressing his thoughts to a nameless “friend”. Through writing these letters, the sensitive outsider feels a little less alone.

This book title captured me. I feel it holds an immediate invitation to write…

Maybe the time has come to make an honest inventory. To allow yourself to be totally vulnerable, while holding yourself gently and being grateful for so much.

How’s your life going these days?

What wouldn’t you want to miss in it?

What hurts the most?

If you had one wish granted by a falling star, what would it be?

What do you know, or hope, is temporary?

What are you hoping life still has in store for you, even if it’s hard for you to keep trusting?

I perceive this as my first immediate writing invitation for you – if you haven’t taken your pen out by now, this is the moment you should do so.

We’re heading towards autumn, a time for quiet reflection, for bringing in the harvest, for slooowly thinking about new seeds to plant. And I’m thinking of something beautiful that still yearns to be shaped around our current lives… How can we invite healing in, how can we be grateful, how can we find a home for our sadness, regrets and sorrows?

I don’t know it yet… But what I do know is that there is magic in writing, in diving deeply within, in naming what is. We speak things out, we open our hearts widely, we are raw and honest, and life has no choice but to honor that.

This invitation goes out with a deep longing in me for being real, for showing up as I truly am, with all the light and all the shadows, holding space for the whole of me and the whole of you.

I didn’t share any of my own journal entries here with you yet. If I’m really honest, I feel the anonymous space of the internet isn’t the right place to do so… I would rather dare you to gather around a small, sacred autumn bonfire, our journals open upon our knees, the warm light and the night sky full of stars protecting our vulnerability. Timid glances, tenderness and a longing for intimacy… Who starts opening up?

Maybe this time will come… I hope it will.

Meanwhile, keep going… Keep writing. I can’t promise you where this journey will take you, but I feel safe enough to promise you that it will be worth it.