Abundance is... How does it feel to you? Does it arrive like a surprise? Grow in small acts of sharing? Speak through what you already have? Maybe it's not about having more — but feeling *enough*. Share a word, a moment, or a feeling. No right or wrong — just what's true for you. *Example:* "Abundance is... trading mangoes for refreshing drinks with a neighbor." @everyone: Let's notice, together. 🌿💛

Welcome to Day 11. After yesterday’s rest, today we welcome movement — not as effort, but as expression. Let your body find its own gentle rhythm, guided by presence, not purpose. 🌱 Practice: Check-in: Where in your body does ease want to flow today? A stretch, a sway, a slow walk, a simple breath in motion? Listen without forcing. Pause (1 minute): Close your eyes. Feel the life within — breath, pulse, soft energy. Then, let your body move naturally. A shoulder roll, a gentle stretch, a slow step. Let motion arise from stillness. Check-out: How did moving *from* presence feel? Light? Fluid? Grounded? Share a word, a sensation, or leave a 🌊 below. “Movement is the song the body sings when the mind is quiet.” — Inspired by Thich Nhat Hanh Moving from stillness. Flowing with ease. Let’s breathe and move, together.

January asks us to sit with a sense of emptiness that can feel deeply uncomfortable. What we label as stagnation often takes a very practical form. Things are left undone. Decisions are put off. We hesitate to act. But what if this is not a failure. What if it is information. What if delaying is not a flaw in our character, but a moment of intelligence at work. January is a pause between movements. Nothing has truly begun, yet nothing has fully ended. The mind may already be racing ahead, full of plans and expectations, while the body remains slower, still attuned to winter, still conserving energy. Out of this mismatch arise moments so small they are easy to miss. A quiet inner nudge that slightly alters direction. A brief sense of clarity. A conversation, a gesture, a seemingly minor act that suddenly restores momentum. These are the moments we might call miracles, not because they are dramatic, but because they are precise. Seen this way, postponement is not obstruction. It is feedback. The system is checking whether purpose, safety and direction are actually aligned. What feels like resistance is often a protective response, a signal from the nervous system saying that something has not yet settled. Not yet. January, in particular, carries this unfinished quality. The old still has weight. The new has not yet found its shape. Before meaningful action can occur, a certain inner steadiness has to form. What looks like doing nothing is not an enemy of progress, but part of how coherence develops. When this phase is bypassed, the result is often more strain, more fatigue, more internal friction. When it is respected, something else becomes visible. The boundaries that are being defended. The needs that have not yet been acknowledged. The assumptions that remain unexamined. The sense of safety that is still incomplete. Real agency does not come from pushing harder. It grows where orientation deepens. Where body, thought and emotion begin to move in the same direction again. Where small, well-timed steps replace grand intentions that ask too much too soon.

Welcome to Day 12. Today, we practice gentle return — not to doing, but to being. After movement, we settle again into stillness, carrying with us the quiet aliveness that motion awakened. 🌱 Practice: Check-in: What feels different in your body today, after yesterday’s gentle movement? Is there warmth, softness, awareness? Take one breath and meet yourself exactly where you are. Pause (1 minute): Allow your body to settle. Feel the air on your skin, the support beneath you, the quiet rhythm of your breath. Let yourself be held, again, by stillness. Check-out: What does it feel like to return to stillness after moving with presence? Calm? Spacious? Integrated? Share a word, a sensation, or leave a 🪷 below. “In the midst of movement and flow, be still like a mountain.” — Ancient Zen saying Carrying movement into calm. Returning, whole. Let’s breathe and be, together. @Georgiana D @Veronika Hübner

Welcome to Day 3. As we return once more, something subtle shifts. The pause is no longer just an appointment we keep; it becomes a quiet companion. This gentle repetition teaches us a profound truth: stillness is a skill, not a coincidence. We are not waiting for calm to find us; we are cultivating it, deliberately, one minute at a time. This is where the practice begins to live in the spaces between. That one minute of listening becomes a touchstone you can return to—before a decision, in the midst of busyness, or as an anchor at day's end. 🌿 Today's Core Invitation: Where can your one minute of listening live today? This is your practice: 1. Check-in: Connect with your intention. Where does your day need a breath? 2. Pause: Gift yourself that minute. No agenda, just presence. 3. Check-out & Share: Did you notice a new quality in your stillness today? A sense of space, a flicker of insight, or just the simple gift of breath? Share a word, a feeling, or a 🤍 below. *"Within you, there is a stillness and a sanctuary to which you can retreat at any time and be yourself." – Hermann Hesse* You are building that sanctuary, minute by steady minute. Let's continue, together. @Phil Grunewald @Veronika Hübner @Georgiana D .... 2x