Blaue Burg, April 2026. The fire siren echoed through these mountains. I laughed out loud. That was him. Obviously.
An essay about busyness, grief, and what becomes possible when you leave room. After losing a close friend unexpectedly, a spontaneous detour to a castle in the mountains, and sixteen courses alone with a view — some things clarified. This is about the life built around presence rather than performance, and what it cost, and what it gave back.
"I don't find peace. I choose it. Every single day."
"I don't find peace. I choose it. Every single day."
