Simone Weil’s quote on Attention
“Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.”
—Simone Weil (1909–1943)
Your weekly poem: ALONE—or no man’s an island?
🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away…
On this blessed Good Friday, Maya Angelou’s poem ALONE came to mind.
ALONE
🌻 Alone
Lying, thinking
Last night
How to find my soul a home
Where water is not thirsty
And bread loaf is not stone
I came up with one thing
And I don’t believe I’m wrong
That nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
There are some millionaires
With money they can’t use
Their wives run round like banshees
Their children sing the blues
They’ve got expensive doctors
To cure their hearts of stone.
But nobody
No, nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Now if you listen closely
I’ll tell you what I know
Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.
Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.🌻
—Maya Angelou
Creative, resourceful, and whole
🪴 There’s a persistent belief in coaching—not sure where it originated—that clients are creative, resourceful, and whole.
I always struggled with that mantra, but it took me some time to figure out why.
It sounds amazing, and it’s one of those mantras we sure as heck want to be true. But the question is, is it?
Creativity and resourcefulness sit on a continuum—some have it more than others. But I do believe that we all carry a seed of both. How that seed develops, and how it shows up in action, will greatly vary…
Wholeness, on the other hand, is rooted in this modern-day thinking that we can be anything we want to be, and do anything we want to do, all on our own, if we only put our mind to it. Bollocks. No man is an island. And no talents are infinite.
Relational coaching practices try to tone this idea down by acknowledging the importance of the coach-client relationship, and the coach’s use-of-self as an instrument of change. And yet, we still hold on to the idea of “wholeness” as an individual trait, rather than a communal one.
Why are we so afraid to admit that each one of us has limits?
That no one can be everything to everyone.
That my talents have limits.
My creativity has limits.
My resourcefulness has limits.
My knowledge has limits.
My resilience has limits.
And once we accept that—that we, human beings, have limits—we start to understand that we can only become WHOLE with one another.
“No human being is ‘whole’ in and of itself”
🪴 And I’m not the first one to propose such a sacrilegious hypothesis. I attended a brilliant webinar on existential analysis by Kate Hammer earlier this year, in which she shared the following quote by existential clinical psychologist, psychotherapist, and close collaborator of Viktor Frankl—Alfried Längle, who said:
“According to existential analysis no human being is ‘whole’ in and of itself, even if healthy and with all drives satisfied. A human being as a person needs to transcend themselves and to turn to others (people, projects, tasks) in order to achieve existential fulfilment.”
Imagine my relief when I realised I wasn’t alone in my thinking. Which in itself proves Angelou’s point:
We need one another. We complement one another. We build on one another. We nurture one another. We protect one another. Fill in the blanks…
“Alone, all alone
Nobody, but nobody
Can make it out here alone.”
🪴 In today’s world, with the fires blazing across my beloved Middle East, Maya’s words pierce through the silence:
“Storm clouds are gathering
The wind is gonna blow
The race of man is suffering
And I can hear the moan,
‘Cause nobody,
But nobody
Can make it out here alone.”
Man is no island. Mankind is a highly sophisticated root system—similar to the mycorrhizal network—a Wood Wide Web—or in our case, a Soul Wide Web: connected, woven like a tapestry. Because when it tears somewhere, everyone hurts…
📌 Your turn…
- What do you know to be your limits?
- Who completes you? Go and be with them!
- What completes you? Go and do it!
🦋 A blessed Good Friday everyone! 🦋
With love,
Dina 🫶🏽
PS : all em dashes are my own ;).
Resources:
- This week’s song is The Power of Love, cover by Josh Krajcik
Your weekly poem: THE SOUND OF SILENCE
🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away…
THE SOUND OF SILENCE
—by Paul Simon (1964)
🌻 For copyright reasons, I’ve woven in only a few excerpts below.
For the full lyrics, check Paul Simon’s website 🌻
🪴 “Hello darkness, my old friend,
I’ve come to talk with you again”
I have a lot of things I’d love to write about—but—somehow everything pales in the face of that crazy world we seem to live in right now. I feel I have nothing to say that hasn’t already been said—on this platform, or others—and yet…
🪴 “When my eyes were stabbed by the flash of a neon light, that split the night
and touched the sound of silence”
Just like Simon’s neon light—sudden, violent, intrusive—here we are, witnessing the disruption of norms we once thought solid in the so-called “western” world. The irony… the hypocrisy…
I agonise at my own inability to bring about any meaningful change in a world led by leaders who have decided they are above all checks and balances—just because…
A world where leaders behave like kindergarteners—squabbling over “toys” while the “playground” burns…
So, while I’m not sure I have anything new to say… silence seems just as deafening—and damning.
🪴“Fool, said I, you do not know,
silence, like a cancer, grows”
I offer you these lyrics today as a reflection on what it means to be Human;
on what it means to live in a world where rule of law means little;
where international law is treated like toilet paper;
where respect for human life, human dignity, and morality are slogans to be branded only on those we deem worthy.
🪴 “And the people bowed and prayed
to the neon god they’d made”
Already in the 60s, Simon was warning us about living in a world that abandons genuine human connection and morality for the glare of superficiality, technology, and consumerism—the neon gods of the time… Lord only knows how many more neon gods we’ve made and worshipped since then…
🪴 “And in the naked light I saw, ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking, people hearing without listening”
We live in a cacophonous world.
So much noise, but no music.
So much talk, but no meaning.
A world that makes compasses turn round and round in frenzy for they can no longer find true North;
… forever lost in a world that holds no profound truths—for every man his own;
… blind to the everyday struggles of the ordinary man;
… blind to the brotherhood of man.
🪴 “And the sign flashed its warning (…)
the words of the prophets are written (…)
and whispered in the sounds of silence”
The world is ablaze, and we’re watching it unfold like a TV show.
My heart bleeds for the world we’ve created. One that believes there is good justification for the suffering we’re causing our fellow human beings and our planet Earth—our only human family and home. It also bleeds for I know I’m no innocent bystander…
🦋 Happy Sunday everyone 🦋
With love,
Dina 🫶🏽
PS : all use of em dashes are my own.
Resources:
- This week’s song is obviously The Sound of Silence by Simon & Garfunkel
A donkey named Balthazar… and your weekly poem on SERENDIPITY
🌿 A poem a day keeps the blues away…
Meet Balthazar. Yes, him, the donkey in the picture :)…
What was meant to be a short walk by myself turned into a two-hour stroll through the woods of Binningen with one of the most calm, curious, and empathetic creatures I’ve ever met.
Which is why this week’s poem is about SERENDIPITY.
I usually start with the poem and follow with my reflections.
But today, I want to tell you about Balthazar first.
🪴 Balthazar is a Grand Noir du Berry
(even though he’s rather “petit” for his breed).
He is 14 years old.
He is curious about the world and stops every now and then to notice things: a plane passing overhead, a group of children laughing, an old lady on a bench with her dog…
Oh—and he loves dogs. Totally unfazed by them, no matter their size. Trusting enough to let them come really close.
Horses, on the other hand, seem far more nervous when meeting him than he is when meeting them.
He is also the first donkey I’ve met who can walk for two hours without pulling me left, right, and centre to munch on a patch of grass.
His equanimity and soft character were quite something to witness.
- Kids, no matter their age, were allowed to touch him without hesitation or worry.
- He seemed to have trouble saying goodbye to the old lady on the bench with her dog. We had lingered so long; they’d become part of the herd.
- And when I struggled to walk him down slopes (given my injured knee), he noticed and slowed down so I could keep my pace.
There are also a few things Balthazar doesn’t like.
He doesn’t like being touched on the face, even after he’s smelled your hand. After all: “we’ve literally just met”.
He doesn’t like being tapped on the back. He prefers long, gentle strokes across his neck and body.
And he doesn’t like it when things come from behind. So every biker, pedestrian, or car gets the right of way. He stops, waits until they’ve passed, and only then continues.
That’s how he knows it’s safe.
🪴 Now, how did Balthazar and I meet?
Serendipity, my friends!
I’ve been feeling unwell the past few days. But yesterday the sun was so lovely—not a single cloud in the sky—and the temperature was reminiscent of a warm spring day.
So I simply had to haul my butt off the couch and go outside.
My hope was to take a walk with my husband. But he had already left for his own walk, which I was initially very disappointed about.
So I pondered my choices:
- continue vegetating on the couch, or
- go outside and see how far I could get with my half-baked knee and cold-filled head.
I chose the latter.
Halfway up the hill, I notice a gentleman with a donkey.
His beauty was astounding (the donkey’s that is!).
So I stopped and watched him—still the donkey!—for a little while. Then I kept going.
Given my slow pace, Fabian (the caretaker) and Balthazar soon caught up with me.
Now those of you who know me know that I love talking to strangers. So I started chit-chatting with Fabian and asking about his donkey.
After a while, I thanked him for the conversation, wished them a lovely walk, and continued on.
A few seconds later, Fabian stops and says:
“Would you like to walk Balthazar?”
And the rest is history.
A short introduction.
A few simple instructions.
And suddenly, here I am—walking the loveliest donkey, having a relaxed conversation with his kind caretaker, on a beautiful spring day, through the stunning fields and woods of Binningen, for a full two hours.
I even got to take Balthazar back home to his farm and say goodbye.
The best part?
Halfway through our walk, I could tell we were both getting comfortable with each other.
He allowed me to nudge him forward when I knew he was safe—and he trusted me to make that judgement.
He allowed me to guide him across manhole covers—something he dislikes, but that his caretaker likes to train with him.
And by the time I took him home, we were friends.
I hope to see Balthazar and Fabian again on one of my walks—I do know where they live now!
But whether I do or not, I’ll always carry the memory of the kindest, calmest, most empathetic donkey I’ve ever met.
And I’ve met a few.
(No euphemisms there!)
🪴 I also had a few more serendipitous encounters yesterday and today that will probably shape part of my coaching and training practice quite significantly—but that’s a story for another post.
For now, I leave you with this week’s poem—an ode to the quiet magic of unexpected encounters.
————————
IN THE SERENITY OF SERENDIPITY
🌻 In the realm of chance and fate’s embrace,
Where destiny weaves its intricate lace,
There lies a place of wonder and delight,
A realm where serendipity takes flight.
Oh, Serendipity, you are a muse divine,
Guiding us through life’s labyrinthine,
With your gentle touch and whispered call,
You lead us to treasures, great and small.
In moments unexpected, you suddenly appear,
A serenade of joy, a symphony so clear,
A chance encounter, a meeting of souls,
Where hearts entwine and destiny unfolds.
Your magic lies in the unexpected surprise,
A meeting of minds, a meeting of eyes,
In the crowded streets or a bustling café,
You join together two souls astray.
Your presence is felt in the gentle breeze,
In the rustling leaves and the dancing trees,
In the golden sunset’s ethereal glow,
You reveal secrets sure only you know.
You are the spark that ignites the fire,
The inspiration that fuels our desire,
To chase our dreams, to follow our hearts,
To embrace the unknown, where serendipity starts.
Oh, Serendipity, you are a gift divine,
A reminder that life’s tapestry is intertwined,
With threads of chance and moments unforeseen,
Where miracles happen, where dreams convene.
Let us now celebrate your wondrous grace,
In every unexpected turn life may trace,
For in the realm of serendipitous delight,
We find the magic that makes our spirits take flight. 🌻
—Solomon Walker
published on medium.com
————————
🪴 Serendipity rarely knocks loudly.
Sometimes it happens when we decide to step outside our comfort zone (in my case, my ever-so-beloved couch).
Sometimes it happens when we openly encounter one another (I-Thou).
Sometimes it simply walks up the hill behind you.
With a donkey.
📌 When was the last time you allowed a serendipitous encounter or moment to happen?
🦋 Happy Sunday everyone! 🦋
With love,
Dina 🫶🏽
Resources:
- Where to visit Balthazar: If you live nearby Binningen (CH), you can visit Balthazar (and Fabian) at the Sur Vojo farm (survojo.ch). You will find two Grand noir du Berry there – Balthazar is the smaller one. The other, and much larger one, is Lotus.
- This week’s song is Serendipity by Laufey
The tyranny of the pursuit of happiness and purpose
I see many posts in my feed lately on how to help you “be more happy”, “find your purpose”, and urge you to “pursue your IKIGAI”—that magical intersect between what you love to do, can do, the world needs, and gets you paid… that ONE purpose in life that “can set you free”… but, does it really?
What if that’s all a mirage… another pop-psychology soundbite regurgitated to keep you blind to what already is…
… trapped in a fixed destination: the tyrannical pursuit of that ONE purpose,
… stuck chasing unicorns in some impending future,
forgetting to live in the moment.
So, what’s my proposal?
Don’t pursue happiness…
or purpose…
pursue meaning instead.
The beauty of meaning, as opposed to purpose, is that it’s not something you chase or declare once and for all. It’s something that emerges and evolves—
as you live your life,
as you engage with the world around you,
as you embrace the people around you.
Meaning is found in life itself… in every moment of every day.
And because meaning is ever so present, it seems fleeting.
You know how, when there’s a constant repeating sound in your environment, you stop hearing it? I remember, when I lived in Egypt, my bedroom overlooked a train station, and there was a long loud train whistle at least every 45 minutes or so. So, I stopped hearing it, and I would only notice it when my friends on the phone would complain about that loud long whistle in the background…
That’s what I think happens to meaning.
We don’t see it anymore, and therefore think it’s missing from our lives. Not because it’s not there, but because our mind is constantly engaged in that hypothetical future—the one that’s holding our salvation, finally fulfilling all of our hopes and dreams, and “sets us free”.
So, we get lost in that futuristic maze…
… start chasing that next dopamine kick,
and numb ourselves with soundbites that shine like diamonds but are hollow inside.
To be clear, I’m not suggesting we stop dreaming or hoping all together…
I’m suggesting that we focus on recognising meaning in what already is, first…
… in the circumstances we are already in,
… the roles we already play,
… the people who are already in our lives.
I make a living supporting those who find themselves in a place of transition. Sometimes that transition is forced upon them by an employer or life in general. But many of them choose to pursue something different that can hopefully fill a sense of void or confusion or longing…
And my job is to help them first understand “what is”, so that they can step into “what can be” with much more clarity and, dare I say, purpose. But that purpose is not the same as your IKIGAI… It’s a sharpened perspective…
Here’s a final thought on meaning.
When we pursue it, it doesn’t promise eternal bliss or comfort… in fact, it can get terribly uncomfortable—at times even painful. But it does promise us this: drive, energy, passion, determination, stamina, resilience to walk the mile… a sense of being “whole”… and, if we can pay enough attention to its sound, in the “here and now”, it can give us wings to explore the unchartered… and literally “set us free”…
Having said all that,
if meaning is still not enough for you, and you really, really, want to understand your ONE purpose in life—here’s one for you:
LOVE.
That’s our one and only purpose: to learn how to love one another—unconditionally. AGAPE—that’s our purpose.
How we get there?
That’s life.
Your life. My life. Our life.
And the meaning we make of it—
every moment of every day.
Here’s to a meaningful 2026!
PS: No AI has been used or harmed in the writing of this post. All em-dashes and stream of consciousness are my own.
Recommended resources:
- Link to original LinkedIn post
Let go, and let God
It’s been four months since my last post. Life somehow took over, I guess, releasing an avalanche of events and emotions, which are still unfolding.
At first, I thought I would write to you about what it is that’s been keeping me busy. But then I thought: each one of us is carrying their own cross. Why should my current circumstances be any heavier or more “special” than yours. So, instead of focusing on the events that have been keeping me away from you and writing, I decided to focus on the message life has been trying to teach me instead: Let go, and let God.
The messy truth
I like to think of myself as a pious person, whose faith in a loving God is at the center of her life. But I have to concede that this is more of an aspiration. A wishful state. Reality is much more messy.
The truth is that I’ve spent most of my life relying on my own understanding of things. Planning. Organising. Trying hard to be and stay in control of circumstances around me. And the older I get, the more I realise just how “out of control” life is, and the harder I strive to “be in control”.
The messy truth is that, while I long for a strong faith, anchored in a personal relationship with God, I’m far from either. Though I keep trying.
The unpredictable scares me.
I’m scared of getting hurt.
Falling sick.
Pain.
Being at the mercy of medical practitioners, politicians, regulators, legislators.
The uncertainty of my decisions and their repercussions paralyse me at times. After all, how can I know for sure what the best course of action is?
There have been times in my life where I knew exactly what I needed to do. Not an ounce of a doubt in me.
Now is not one of those times.
I so long to be able to relax.
Let go of all responsibilities.
Let go of the load, weighing on my soul’s beaten shoulders.
Let someone else take the reins for a change.
And the irony is that this is exactly what Jesus told us He would do for us:
“Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest.”
(Matthew 11: 28, NIV)
Art and design by Sharon Cummings
Life’s teaching moments
Every experience, every challenge I have been facing this far, has been trying to teach me the same lesson, over-and-over.
Let go, and let God.
Years back, when I injured my back, my doctor told me that if I had let myself fall, I wouldn’t have hurt as much. Holding on made my fall worse.
My current joints, heel and hip pain are caused, among other things, by weak and tense muscles that are not letting go.
What is it that I am so desperate to hold on to?
Safety?
Security?
Protection?
Perfection?
A life without loss or pain?
I seem to be stuck in the hurts of the past, and the hopes and fears of a distant future; when my salvation lies in the present moment of what is. Not what was. Not what can or will be. What is.
I am now due for a dental surgery, where I am at the mercy of the surgeon operating on me.
I have no control over the risks, and I was told there are a few.
I have no control over how well my body may or may not be able to heal.
I have no control over the pain that may ensue, and the time I will need to recover.
I wished I knew how to let myself fall – knowing that God’s net is there to catch me.
In the not so distant past
There used to be a time when I could do that – let go of all worries, and just
know that all will be well.
A time where my faith and trust in God was
unwavering.
That was also the time when I talked to Him every day,
like one talks to a long-time friend,
a loving Father,
and He spoke back.
I don’t do that anymore, talking to him,
or at least not as often,
and I wonder why…
God’s messengers
As I wrestle with these thoughts, God sent me two messengers.
A., a catholic nun.
God had sent her my way, six years ago, during one of my darkest hours, as I grappled with burnout.
A week ago, she sent an e-mail about an upcoming Silent Retreat she is organising. So I jumped on the opportunity. In fact, I am on my way there right now as I write this post, hoping that within that communal silent space, I find the courage to talk to Him again and hear His voice.
B., my refugee friend.
She has been struggling with financial and health issues for some time. When I asked her if I can help her financially in any way, she said:
Oh no, I have all I need! Some people complain that they don’t have enough money, or not good health. But how can I complain when I know that everything that comes my way comes from the hands of God? I am happy and content with whatever He hands me, and I trust His will and His gifts. I know He is there watching over me, making sure I have what I need one day at a time.
Her faith both shamed and inspired me.
Let go, and let God
God wants to teach me to rely on Him. Not myself. Not man. Him.
He’s telling me that all my previous accomplishments, the troubles I got out of, is not because I did it – but because He saw me through it. And, Lord knows, I’ve put myself in some pretty big messes in the past. But His grace saw me through it – unscathed. Why would He forsake me now?
He wants me to trust in His will for me. Trust that He has my best spiritual interest in mind. Trust that, even if something goes wrong with my upcoming operation, He is a faithful God and He will see me through. Just like he did in the past.
He’s teaching me to trust to …
… Let go, and let God.
EPILOGUE
I am now sitting in the train, on my way back home from the Silent Retreat.
I feel gifted and carried.
And I feel the need to share with you some of what I was gifted with.
Here is what I wrote (unedited) after my first meditation time in the morning:
I am still and at peace inside.
I bask in the warmth of His embrace and comfort.
I feel calm for I know He has been guiding me through past events,
for whatever lies ahead of me,
however scary it may see,
will bring me goodness.
I rely on His will for me;
His plan for me;
not mine.
There is also a sense of gratitude and comfort in me
to be surrounded by others who share in the love of Jesus,
and long for His voice and presence, as I do.
Their community,
even if in silence,
consoles my soul and
fills it with peace.
Later on, we meditated on Psalm 18, and I chose the following verses to meditate on:
“I love you, Lord, my strength.
The Lord is my rock, and my fortress, and my deliverer;
my God, my strength, in whom I will trust;
my buckler, and the horn of my salvation, and my high tower.”
(Psalm 18, 1-2, NIV)
And later on, as we were closing the day, I meditated on the verse:
“He reached down from on high and took hold of me (…)
You, Lord, keep my lamp burning;
my God turns my darkness into light.“
(Psalm 18, 16; 28, NIV)
At peace
I just sat there, with those Psalm words, in silence, with God.
And I could feel Him, carrying me
like a Father carries His daughter.
I felt Him around me – embracing me.
And tears started flowing.
Tears of joy, and relief,
knowing He is here, and that
He loves me.
I can finally let go, and let God take the reins of my life.
I no longer feel the need to be in control, for He is.
POST-EPILOGUE
I felt the need to close the loop. End the story so to speak. It’s a happy ending, although not without its set of challenges, pain and doubts.
God was faithful and supported me through my operation, and offered relief when I was most in pain. He was also faithful after the operation as I was recovering. But then came an infection, and my doubts and fears re-surfaced.
Over the years, in moments when I needed to hear God’s voice – when I needed an answer – I would go knocking at His door.
How you ask?
I would talk to Him, share with him my worry – doubts – question – fear – and ask him for guidance.
How does He guide me?
Through His word.
The Bible.
After I’ve opened my heart to Him, I would open my Bible App, close my eyes and click with my finger there where my spirit guides me:
a Bible Chapter.
a Verse.
On that day, when the infection was spreading and pain started to re-surface, that’s exactly what I did.
And His Spirit guided me to Tobit 5:13.
Tobit had been blinded and frustrated, if not somewhat bitter, over his fate. When the Angel of God came into his home one day, greeting him saying “May gladness be always with you” – Tobit answers: “What kind of gladness will be for me, since I sit in darkness and do not see the light of heaven?” And so the Angel responds to him with verse 13:
“Be steadfast in soul. Your cure from God is near.”
(Tobit 5:13, KJV)
And so it was. Not just for Tobit. Also for me.
Recommended resources:
- Book: Let Go Now: Embrace Detachment as a Path to Freedom, by Karen Casey
- Blogpost: Where do I belong: Ode to a chaotic world – a poem I wrote as my soul was longing for God’s presence in a tumultuous world
- Blogpost: You will never make it without anti-depressants” (part I) – My first post detailing the circumstances of my burnout and how I got through it
Recent Comments