It’s strange how we tell ourselves stories that we believe until life forces us to rewrite them. For much of my life, I was firmly convinced that happiness and contentment could be found in tangible things: Money, status, recognition, and yes, even in my outward appearance. But this belief was a fallacy, a band-aid on wounds that were much deeper than I wanted to admit.

As the son of a single mother who had to make do with little money, I learned early on how valuable financial security is. For me, money was more than just a means of payment – it was synonymous with stability, protection and control. In my childhood, money was scarce and this scarcity was deeply engraved in my psyche. It was as if my inner child had vowed: “When I grow up, I will make sure that I never have to suffer scarcity again.”

This vow led me to focus entirely on the material world. My professional success, my bank balance and the things I could afford became the standards by which I measured my worth as a human being. In my world, financial success was synonymous with personal success. It felt like with every euro I earned, I was closing an invisible security gap that had been inside me since childhood.

But safety wasn’t the only thing I was looking for. There was another aspect that I tried to perfect over the years: my appearance.

The separation of my parents had forced me into the role of ‘man of the house’ at an early age. Without being asked, I had taken on the responsibility of filling the void left by my father. But as a boy who was still looking for support myself, I often didn’t feel up to the task. I compensated for this feeling of insecurity by demonstrating strength to the outside world – a strength that I didn’t always feel myself.

My body became a symbol of this strength. I trained hard, took care of my appearance and tried to project an image of security and control. To the outside world, I wanted to be someone who had everything under control. But inside, I often felt exactly the opposite: vulnerable and insecure.

This discrepancy between my outer appearance and my inner state was something I ignored for a long time. It was easier to look in the mirror and see the image of a ‘strong man’ than to deal with the deeper, more uncomfortable feelings that lay beneath.

I believed that the right things – money, cars, recognition – could make me happy. And to be honest, it felt that way for a while. I enjoyed the comfort that financial success brought. I enjoyed the looks and admiration that my appearance attracted. And I enjoyed the thrill…

Also the thrill of fast cars. One of my favorites from that time was a “Cobra” – even today I would say that it was and is a really beautiful car. But the problem wasn’t the car, it was my motivation to buy it. I didn’t just want a sports car – I wanted a lifestyle. I imagined what it would be like to drive through the streets with the top down, the sun on my face, the wind in my hair… (yes, I used to have hair 😄 ), and a feeling of lightness and light-heartedness.

But as often as I drove through the streets, the feeling I was looking for didn’t materialize. It was as if the car was just another pavement that didn’t really hold.

What I didn’t understand at the time was that I was trying to fill inner emptiness with external things. No matter what I threw into this “black hole” – money, status symbols, compliments – it disappeared. And as black holes go, this hole and the emptiness it carried grew bigger and bigger over time.

It was a vicious circle: the more I tried to fill this void, the bigger it became. The more I tried to be happy, the further I moved away from what happiness really means.

I kept telling myself that I was happy. After all, I had everything I had always wanted. But deep down, I knew that wasn’t true. I was searching for something that I would never find with all these external things.

The realization that my life wasn’t going in the direction I wanted it to deep down didn’t come slowly or gradually – it hit me like a bolt from the blue. It was about 13 years ago when I got my hands on a book that would change my entire life.

To this day, I remember the exact moment when I read the first pages. It felt like someone was holding a mirror up to my soul and showing me all the things I had suppressed for so long….

It was the small, inconspicuous work “Mastering life with Buddha”. At the time, I thought it was “cool” and “hip” to be a little Buddhist – an accessory for my image that fitted in well with my outer façade. Today, I look back with a benevolent smile at my younger self, who had no idea what this book would set in motion.

Even after the first few pages, I felt that I was holding something special in my hands. It was as if someone was speaking directly to me and showing me a world that I had ignored for 30 years – a world within me.

This realization hit me with full force.

Suddenly I realized that my life, which until then had been so focused on external success and material things, was only half the truth.

It felt as if someone had lifted a veil and at least doubled my world. But this new dimension was not to be found in my bank balance, my possessions or my outward appearance. It was inside me – a space full of questions, possibilities and a deep longing for something I couldn’t quite grasp yet.

As successful as I had felt in the material world, it was humbling to realize that I was starting from scratch in the spiritual realm. But instead of discouraging me, it awakened a tremendous curiosity in me.

I began to read – not just this one book, but many others that allowed me to delve deeper and deeper into the world of spirituality. Terms such as mindfulness, meditation and inner peace became new signposts.

I started meditating, unsure and irregularly at first, but over time it became a regular practice. Through my wonderful wife, I found a regular yoga practice and we attended our first retreat together in Ibiza, which had a huge impact on both of us.

Another milestone on my journey was my encounter with herbal medicine.

Ayahuasca, magic mushrooms, 5-MeO-DMT and huachuma led me on a profound, often challenging journey to myself. Each experience was like shedding an old skin that no longer fit me. Layer by layer, I shed the illusions and patterns that had defined me for so long and got closer and closer to my true core.

These processes were not always easy. It often felt like I was walking through dark valleys to finally find the light. But with every realization, I became freer, more authentic and more myself.

Life held up another unexpected mirror to me in the form of our two children. Hannah and Lena became my greatest teachers. Children have the unique ability to mercilessly show you where you are not yet free. They reflect your fears, your impatience and your shortcomings without mincing their words.

But it is precisely in these moments that there is enormous potential for growth. My children showed me what really counts in life: Love, presence and authenticity. They reminded me that it’s not about being perfect, but about being honest with yourself and with others.

About three years ago, I finally came across Breathwork – a practice that changed my life in ways I never thought possible. For the first time, I felt like I had found work that not only touched other people, but also nourished me.

In contrast to my “normal” job, which often drained my energy, this special work with people gives me energy. It fulfills me deeply to accompany others on their personal journey, to help them discover their own inner worlds and find healing.

Today I know that true happiness is not to be found in external things. It is not the car, the house or the recognition of others that fulfills us. It is the connection to ourselves, to our fellow human beings and to the world around us. It is the ability to be in the moment, to feel gratitude and to recognize the beauty of life in its simplicity.

My journey will not end during my lifetime at least, but it has shown me one thing: Life is not a destination, but a journey. And on this path, it is not what we own that counts, but who we are and how we love.

This journey has changed me – and it continues. Perhaps that is what spirituality is all about: it is not a solution, but a perpetual process of growing, learning and discovering.