Week 3: Growing Through Change 🌿 Yesterday, you practiced returning — on purpose, without pressure. Maybe three breaths before lunch. Maybe a pause after waking up. Today, we soften even more. Because returning is one thing. But what happens when we stop trying to return — and instead, we simply notice that we're already here? Not forcing presence. Just realizing: Oh. I never really left. My mind just wandered for a while. 📍 Spring in the north: the tree doesn't chase the sun. It stands still. The sun returns on its own. 📍 Autumn in Paraguay: the bird doesn't try to find the branch. It lands. Then rests. Today's invitation: Instead of doing something to be present, just ask yourself once today: Where am I right now? Not where "should" you be. Not where you were an hour ago. Just — right now. That's it. No action. No breathing exercise. Just one honest answer. @everyone: 👇 Share where you are — or drop 🌿 --- You don't have to arrive anywhere. You were never lost. Just distracted. 💛

🌞💨🌧️ Tree labels that last through it all — sun, wind, rain. What's your DIY go-to? I'm looking to label some trees outdoors — nothing fancy, just something that can resist sun, wind, and rain. Has anyone found a reliable DIY solution that actually lasts? What has worked for you in your garden or land? 👇 Drop your tried and tested ideas — photos very welcome

Week 3: Growing Through Change 🌿 Yesterday, you let that feeling be present — even just for a moment. While making tea. Walking between rooms. Before sleep. Today, we go a little deeper — but still gently. Because presence is beautiful. But what happens when we start to trust that presence? Not clinging to it. Not forcing it to stay. Just noticing: I can actually return here. It's not that far away. 📍 Spring in the north: the seedling doesn't stay open all day. It closes at night. Then opens again when the light returns. 📍 Autumn in Paraguay: the river slows in dry season — but it never forgets how to flow. When the rain comes, it remembers. Today's invitation: Think back to that moment yesterday when you let the feeling in. Now ask yourself: Could I return there today — on purpose, without pressure? Not for long. Not perfectly. Just one small return. - Close your eyes for three breaths before lunch - Pause with your hand on your chest after waking up - Look out a window and name one thing you see - Sit somewhere without your phone for two minutes 👇 Share one way you'll return — or drop 🌾 @Veronika Hübner

*A 4-week journey into seasonal presence, slow noticing, and the small joys that root us.* Welcome to the April Challenge! This month, we're turning our attention to the rhythms of the earth beneath our feet—and the quiet beauty of living in sync with the season. In the Northern Hemisphere, spring is unfolding—buds breaking, light returning, life stirring. In Paraguay, autumn arrives—a slow exhale, golden light, the quiet ripening of fruit. Wherever you are, this month invites you to notice. To slow down. To root into the season beneath your feet and the small joys that grow from presence. @everyone After a month of gratitude and belonging, we now step into April with gentle attention. No pressure. No perfection. Just small moments of noticing—what the morning sounds like, how a leaf changes, who crosses our path, what slows us down. Each week, we'll explore a different way of connecting with the season—and how we can carry these small observations into our daily lives, wherever we call home. @Rositsa Aleksandrova @Veronika Hübner @Nya K

There's something deeply satisfying about watching green canes go through the press, emerging as golden-green liquid that tastes like pure sweetness with a whisper of grass and earth. Here in Paraguay, sugar cane juice (jugo de caña) is a tradition—simple, refreshing, and best enjoyed right after pressing. No additives, no sugar added (it's sweet enough on its own). Just the pure essence of the plant, captured in a glass. I've been pressing small batches lately—served cold with a squeeze of lime or just as it comes. It's a taste of the field, the sun, the slow rhythm of harvest. Now I'm curious: 🌱 Have you ever tried fresh sugar cane juice? 🍋 What's your favorite way to enjoy it—plain, with lime, or mixed with something else? 🌿 Or is there another traditional drink from your part of the world that connects you to the land? I'd love to hear your experiences! Let's share a little taste of where we come from. 🌍🥤