Between the Times – Episode 2_When the New Begins Before We Recognize It

In the first blog post, I wrote about how difficult it can be to begin at all. How unfamiliar it feels to speak something out loud that has no clear shape yet. And how a first step into the Land of the In‑Between feels: tentative, uncertain, but necessary.

This second step begins where the first one ended — with the quiet admission that much had already begun long before I understood it. That I wasn’t following a plan, but a movement that guided me without explaining itself.

1. The Invisible Preparation

Looking back, I don’t see a linear career. I see a series of resonance fields that led me, step by step, into a larger landscape:

• Comparative sociology — societies as unconscious narratives.

• Urban planning — spaces that shape us before we shape them.

• Human potential — the discovery that development begins in the body.

• Embodied knowing — a way of thinking that allows feeling again.

These inner pathways unfolded alongside an outer journey: more than sixty countries, countless workshops, learning fields in organizations, encounters with spiritual communities and religious traditions.

Along the way, I realized something essential: Cultures don’t live only in words — they live in gestures, movements, glances, touch. They become embodied.

And while I was experiencing all this, something was happening that I couldn’t name at the time: I was following a path I didn’t yet know. Sometimes out of curiosity. Sometimes out of helplessness. Sometimes because a group set a direction. Sometimes because a teacher touched something in me. And often simply because standing still wasn’t possible.

It wasn’t conscious navigation. It was moving with something larger than my plans — a path that only becomes visible in hindsight.

Only now do I see how all these threads form a pattern — a pattern that prepared me long before I knew what for.

2. The Decision to Step Out — Again and Again

The first blog post was about the hesitation to become visible. This one is about the hesitation to stay inside something that no longer fits.

I often chose against what is usually called success. Not out of asceticism, but out of clarity. Because I sensed: If I stay, I lose myself. If I leave, I find the field.

This field was never visible, but always palpable. It was the inner communication that carried me forward when the outer world had no language left.

3. The Integral Field — Beyond Change

The insight that change is something we allow, not something we produce, didn’t arrive suddenly. It grew out of early Human Potential experiences in the late 1970s, in workshops and organizations across the US and Europe.

There we learned that inner communication affects the outer world — and the outer world affects the inner. That behaviors, values, and beliefs that once felt immovable could dissolve when truly met. And that behind all of this, a space appeared — a kind of integral field of truth-awareness.

From this experiential ground, the later encounter with Integral Yoga felt almost natural. Not planned, not sought — more like the next organic step. Some would say I was called. To me, it felt like remembering.

The same was true for the Completion Process. It wasn’t about technique, but about deepening what I already knew: that inner spaces are real, that they have impact, and that they connect us with something larger than our personal story.

All these paths — Human Potential, embodied knowing, Integral Yoga, the Completion Process — wove themselves into an experiential field that no longer felt like “transformation,” but like a field that unfolds itself. A field that carries without being directed.

4. Between the Times — The New Announces Itself

We are living in a phase where the old is still loud but crumbling inside. And the new is quiet but unstoppable.

It feels like a journey that began long before we realized we had departed. We are already on the way — without a destination, but with direction. Because the destination is not a place. It is a state.

Time softens. Movement becomes meaning. Arrival becomes a verb.

5. A Guide to the New

This text is not a concept. It is companionship. A second step after the first blog post — a step deeper into the Land of the In‑Between.

For people who sense that something within them has already begun. For people who know that the new cannot be planned — it emerges. For people who are ready to remember.

6. The Book Begins Here

The first blog post was hesitation. This one is consent. A next step. A gate. A light.