Between Visits, Coincidence, and Goodbye
In the past few weeks, several worlds have blended together here at the riding safari lodge in Namibia. My private life from home was suddenly here, because my family came to visit. I had the opportunity to guide a former colleague from work – my professional past suddenly felt very close again, right next to my new everyday life as a riding guide. At the same time, I found myself right in the middle of everything familiar and everything completely new. Somehow, it all felt unreal because so many different chapters of my life overlapped. And then, once again, it was time to say goodbye. Just as intensely as everything had come together, it also unraveled again. Almost at the same time, I had to say goodbye to my family, my former colleague, and two people I had grown very fond of, who had been leading the riding tours here together with me. Two people who became incredibly important to me during this time. When you travel and live together, connections often form faster and more intensely than they do back home. They were two people who truly grew close to my heart during this time. We experienced a lot together, talked a lot, laughed, and supported each other through the small and big moments here. When they continued their journey, I was reminded once again how quickly these travel friendships can form – and how much you can miss someone when they leave again. And also how quickly new people can enter your life, and how incredibly cool 19-year-olds can be.
It was a very special feeling to show my family the place where I currently live. The place where I work, ride horses, and spend my everyday life. Until now, they had only known this world through photos and my stories – and suddenly, they were right in the middle of it themselves. They experienced what my days here actually look like: how early my alarm goes off, which routines shape my everyday life, and what it feels like to move through this landscape. It was incredibly good for me to have them around, to spend time with them, and to be able to take them a little bit into my new life. At the same time, I noticed that I tend to let my moods out and show my emotions exactly with the people who are closest to me and with whom I feel safe, because I can be myself without having to explain everything. Whether that is fair is another question. One of my favorite memories from the time with my family is a moment that simply cannot be planned. The four of us were out on a ride together, the first time all four of us were on horseback out in the open landscape. And then it happened – that moment you cannot create on purpose: In front of us was a large, open, green area, and suddenly a group of giraffes appeared in the distance. The four of us galloped across this open space toward the giraffes – what an indescribable feeling. Riding through this landscape together as a family and being able to experience and share this moment together felt incredibly special. One of those rare moments that stays deeply engraved in your memory – especially because it happens so unexpectedly. (It would have been completely, completely perfect as a family if my dad-dad had been there too.) And something else I absolutely loved: Two super cool girls were guests here at the same time and expanded our family of four into a family of six.
Almost equally surreal was another encounter. Here, in the middle of Namibia, a former colleague from work suddenly stood in front of me. Without any planning, without either of us knowing. Thousands of kilometers away from Germany, and yet our paths crossed exactly here. We had some beautiful conversations and wonderful rides together. It was really good for me to be able to tell my story from that time at work once again. To share how that period felt for me, how much I struggled internally, and how big the step was for me to actually quit. While telling the story, I became aware once again of how proud and grateful I can actually be of myself. Grateful that I found the courage to take that step and jump into the unknown, even though I still do not know where this new path will lead me.
My everyday life here consists largely of my work as a riding guide. It is a job that comes with a lot of responsibility – because at the end of the day, I always want both the riders and the horses to return safely. At the same time, we are out here in the middle of nature. And that is exactly what makes this place so special: the wildlife, the endless landscapes, and this feeling of freedom. But that is also where the unpredictability lies. Wild animals are a completely natural part of life here – which makes every ride unique, but also requires a certain level of awareness and attention. The weather also plays a bigger role than one might expect. Depending on how much rain has fallen, the ground conditions can change completely. Every day outdoors is therefore a combination of experience, focus, and trust – in the horses, in the situation, and sometimes simply in your own gut feeling. With the guests, it never gets boring anyway. Here, everyone sits in the saddle: from children to retirees, from very experienced riders to complete beginners. That is exactly what makes it exciting, but it also brings new challenges again and again. You have to find the right pace, choose the appropriate route, and constantly sense how the group is developing out in the landscape. Of course, many conversations repeat themselves as well. When new guests arrive all the time, you tell certain stories over and over again – about the animals, about Namibia, about life here, and also about yourself. And yet, it is often precisely these encounters that remain special. Again and again, beautiful conversations, interesting connections, and these small, unexpected moments emerge – with people, with animals, or simply with the atmosphere out there.
The sundowner rides are especially beautiful. We ride for two and a half hours and finish in the middle of the reserve, where a jeep is waiting for us. Gin, tonic, guava juice, water, and snacks are prepared, and we unsaddle the horses and let them go. Yes, we really let them go completely free. The horses make their own way back to the stable during the night, returning in time for their feed the next morning. There is such a beautiful atmosphere in quietly watching the sunset and the free-roaming horses (sometimes even wildlife as well) with a delicious drink in hand.
Over the past few weeks, I have been fortunate enough to experience many special encounters – with people and also with animals. I have accompanied wonderful guests on safari rides, had fascinating conversations, and repeatedly found myself in moments where you simply stand in awe of what you are lucky enough to experience. Even though I notice that the fixed structure here is sometimes challenging for me and I have the feeling that I am not reaching my full potential, this time is still incredibly good for me. Because it shows me so much about myself. I am currently learning very clearly what I need in my life. Which working conditions are good for me, which environments give me energy, and where I truly feel alive. Sometimes you do not only learn from what fits perfectly, but also from what does not feel quite right. And that is exactly what I am taking away from this time here. And again and again, doors open – completely unexpectedly and beautifully, just as I am experiencing right now. And it reminds me once again: Trust the timing and simply trust life. When I look back on the past few weeks, I realize that they have changed me in a quiet but profound way. I have learned to trust myself a little more. To listen more closely to when something feels right and when it does not. And I have learned that encounters – even when they are brief – can leave lasting impressions. Joy, surprise, a touch of sadness, and also a little bit of that typical travel feeling that things are constantly changing. Especially while traveling, so many of these moments happen. Conversations, encounters, shared experiences that may only be part of our lives for a limited time and yet continue to resonate long afterward. I have been able to meet wonderful people here, work with animals, experience this incredible nature, and collect many small and big moments that I will certainly carry with me for a long time. And while experiencing all of this, I keep realizing: Even though I do not yet know exactly where my path will lead me, I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now, even when it is not always easy. And once again, I become aware: I have an incredibly good and privileged life. Here, you quickly realize that many things I took completely for granted at home are actually enormous luxuries. Electricity. Warm (clean) water. Internet. Hygiene. Education and awareness. Things I never had to think about in my previous everyday life because they were simply always there. Here, it is different. Electricity can go out or may not even be available in the first place. Hot water is not always guaranteed or has to be heated manually. Internet is unreliable and not something you can take for granted. This contrast becomes even clearer when I think about things that are also completely normal for me: having health insurance, receiving medical care when I need it, having enough money to afford a safe life. I do not have to worry about whether I will have enough food tomorrow. I do not have to think about how to keep myself warm. I have clean water, a bed, medical care, and an environment that supports me. My survival is never truly at risk. And when I see this so clearly, I also realize that many of the things I usually worry about are actually luxury problems. Thoughts about which path I should take, which job is the right one, where my place in this world might be. These are important questions for me – but they arise from a situation in which my basic needs have long been secured. I have the space and the privilege to even be able to ask myself these questions. And for that, I am incredibly grateful. Because in the end, it is not about minimizing my thoughts or doubts. They are part of my journey. But it helps me again and again to take a step back and remind myself of the position from which I am even able to search for my place in life. From a position of privilege and security. And that is anything but something to take for granted.
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