Do you hear that little voice? That soft humming? It’s almost as if life whispers:
I’m stuck.
And you feel compelled to help life become unstuck?
I hear it.
And getting things unstuck is probably what I do for a living. And life.
I call it moving.
Right now, I’m looking for people, projects, and places that share that voice. Who walk the line with grace, integrity, and precision. Who know the art of moving with stillness.
I believe in movement. It is the driving force, it connects (quite literally), it’s the pulse of life.
I like moving things. I like moving myself. Mentally, physically, soul-ly (?). I equally like things and people that move me. The first sip of coffee. A small interaction on my way to work. A Rembrandt. Admittedly, I prefer poems over paintings. Which is true until it isn’t. It’s not important what moves you as long as it does.
Moving for me started early on. My first move came about when I was a couple of months old. From my birthplace in the US to Germany.
We didn’t leave willingly.
The moving didn’t stop there. We moved places roughly every 2,5 years. Changing this neighborhood for that. Getting around. Rent goes up, social security doesn’t.
So we kept moving.
Years later came a morning where I had to be the bearer of bad news: First time letting an employee go.
It was the morning I woke up with a ringing in my ear. I still have tinnitus. I see it as a constant reminder to listen to myself.
The final interview went smoothly. Tears rolled. I felt poorly for overhiring then firing her and wrote a letter of recommendation for her to one of our clients. She outdid a competitor and landed the job.
I kept moving.
For someone who spends so much time at work, I have an awful little to say about it.
I don’t remember much work, because I finished what I set out to do. Nearly every time. 150 projects in less than 12 months? That was my time at Justaddsugar. Writing films (hungover) on the way to another shoot. Winning pitches worth a high-end seven-figure sum in total? Yeah, I did that. Creating 40+ Videos on 2 days for a freelance client? No biggie. Doing charity pro bono jobs? Did that, too. Clients loved me. I was the easy-to-work-with one. I’ve made things possible that others wouldn’t. I’ve helped build foundations, connecting the dots.
Bending. Then breaking.
It’s easy to boast about those things.
They are expected. And I was so much better at performing than being myself that I got the things I wanted. Quickly.
I just forgot about the consequences.
- Intermission:
While I’m writing this, I’ve received an email from my accountant. They made a mistake. Again, sadly.
There will be no tax reimbursement. I have to pay 830,16€ instead. And I'd better pay up soon.
It’s almost comical. I live in Germany. Most of my life (especially freelancing felt like spending an atrocious amount of time, energy, and money to be allowed to do things instead of being able to actually do them.
My accountant has been the most prolific beneficiary of my freelancing business so far, it seems.
A part of me is outraged right now. I understand him. I’m angry, too. So I’m writing this instead.
Don’t entertain your anger. Don’t swim in your sadness. Don’t parade in your pity. Just be. Yeah, I’m talking to myself. Because one part of me wishes all those tossers to hell, eternally stabbing their toenails on broken IKEA furniture.
My whole life, I’ve felt that I’m in the wrong place, that something was off. I could never put my finger on it. I certainly came to understand why my mother always wanted to leave. Why she chose the US.
Lately, I came to understand that it’s not about being right or wrong. It’s about values. And in extension, the culture, the actual behaviour stemming from said values.
I’m the least German American I know. Or the least American German.
As beautiful and expressive as I find the German language to be, it’s saddening to see it being sacrificed to only exist in bureaucratic terminology. It’s like seeing Dame Judy Dench reduced to performing at funfairs.
It’s neither fun nor fair.
And I’d rather see her bring a great movie to life.
I value integrity the most. Be true to who you are. Who you strive to be. Speak your mind with candor but always with a gentle heart. Be graceful.
Precision: In Kung-Fu, it’s the most direct path to an action. It’s not about beauty or perfection. You strike hard and fast. You block what’s thrown. Being precise is being effective. It’s being clear, swift, but not hasty.
Being gentle is the third on my list. New ideas are soft, delicate. Connections, relationships, they’re durable yet fragile when looking closely. A gentle nudge, a gentle touch, is all it needs sometimes for them to grow – or fall apart.
- Intermission ends
I’ve always found myself more drawn to the invisible things that drive so much of what we feel, think, and do. Everything, really, if you think about it.
I pride myself that ultimately those are the things that I engage with naturally. That’s where I leave my mark. The work is just hygiene.
I did pro-bono headshots for people seeking employment on multiple occasions. For refugees, people in need, or on a budget. And due to interesting circumstances for a whole lot of HAW (polytec Hamburg) students. I probably invested around 1-2000€ of my own money in all those shoots total. I drove to their respective locations because it was important to me to take the photos somewhere familiar to them. And we did a full day shoot. Each.
One of the participants wrote me a couple of weeks later. She landed her first job at Calumet, a photo retailer. She said she remembered how much she cared about photography back in her youth.
I don’t know why exactly this moment came to my mind. It’s something that touches me. How (no idea what exactly) a moment or a day of human connection can affect someones trajectory. For better or worse.
Years later, when I applied for a job in a competing photo dealership, she found her way into my application letter. Which landed me the job.
Currently, I’m working in marketing at Germany's leading school software company. They are in a period of change. I’ve only been there for 3 months. It was a tough start.
The final rotation about my old impatience with myself. The final attempt to avoid myself.
It didn’t work. Yet the impact was powerful. I’ve received so much positive feedback on how my change affects the team in a positive way. Even though we’re parting next year.
When I ask myself what I’m most proud of, it’s none of the above. Is being whole again. It’s sitting at the table with people from all walks of life and blending in, strangely. It’s seen as being whole because I am (again).
It doesn’t look like movement from the outside. Until you know the distance travelled.
When you’re reading this, I’m no longer here. I keep moving.
How wonderful to think
that even for a brief moment
we could move together