New Chapter – Namibia, Africa
What a wild journey to get here. From door to door, I was traveling for 37 hours. Three flights, one of them with such strong turbulence that my tea didn’t even stay in the cup. On top of that, there was a coolant leak upon arrival, meaning the car could not continue driving. With every passing hour, my longing for a shower and a horizontal bed grew stronger. When I finally arrived, the first few days felt like watching a documentary. Seeing all these wild animals so close up – my brain could barely process it. It felt as if I was looking at a screen rather than actually being there myself. The Lion King really captures the atmosphere here quite well. I often feel like I’m in a scene from the movie. And yes: the “Pumbas” – the warthogs – are truly adorable.
Slowly, it starts to sink in: I am really experiencing all of this. With my own eyes. On horseback, I suddenly find myself right in the middle of a herd of giraffes. Wildebeest galloping alongside me, elegant oryx in the distance. The sunsets here are often dramatic – intense colors and a completely unique atmosphere. When a thunderstorm is building and you experience it during a horseback ride, everything feels even bigger. Five lightning strikes at the same time, a deep dark blue sky, and beneath me a sea of yellow flowers. The energy releases itself with tremendous force and noise – which is why I keep earplugs within reach next to my bed at night. It is the rainy season here in Namibia. Everything is incredibly green, and there are babies everywhere. Baby animals are simply always adorable. No matter what kind of animal. My highlights so far: Watching a cheetah from horseback, observing a lioness during a hunt, and seeing a black mamba (snake).
My daily life here is clearly structured and tightly scheduled:
My alarm goes off at 5:27 a.m.
At 6:00 a.m. I head to the stables and prepare the horses for the first ride.
At 7:00 a.m. the first ride begins.
At 9:30 a.m. we return and take care of the horses.
At 10:00 a.m. breakfast and coffee.
At 12:30 p.m. lunch.
At 3:30 p.m. back to the horses.
At 4:30 p.m. a ride with a sundowner and cold drinks.
At 8:00 p.m. the workday is over.
And this is exactly where the part begins that looks less like a postcard paradise. I notice how these fixed structures reopen old wounds. I am here, I want to contribute, I have skills – and yet I cannot really shape or decide things myself. It triggers me when others decide for me when I do what, and I get the feeling that I am not truly seen. I quit my secure, well-paid job to leave a system that was no longer good for me. A system in which I was constantly in adaptation mode, making myself small and feeling invisible. I did not quit because I knew exactly where I wanted to go – I quit because I knew very clearly what I no longer wanted. And now I catch myself being in something similar again. Of course, in a completely different form. But the feelings are familiar. And that is exactly why it is currently difficult for me to simply enjoy everything here. I also realize that I have too many expectations of this journey. I want clarity, direction, a new version of myself – and I want it immediately. That is too much. Too much pressure I am putting on myself. This journey cannot and does not have to give me all the answers right away. It is allowed to show me where I feel restricted and where I feel alive. When I feel excitement and joy getting up in the morning, when my body says yes – and when it does not. I am currently rebuilding my inner and outer identity. The old one no longer exists. Quitting my job dissolved it. I am swimming. It feels empty, strange – and at the same time it is a huge playground. An open space where everything is possible and everything is allowed to exist. I am not looking for a place or a job. I am looking for a state of being: self-determination, room for action, inner peace, a clear physical yes to what I am doing. I no longer want half-hearted compromises. I enjoy contributing, but I need responsibility and trust. Fixed, narrow structures are difficult for me. Maybe I do not know what I want right now because for a long time I was not allowed to want what I wanted. Maybe my inner compass was misaligned over many years – always scanning what was needed and then adapting myself to fit in. I have left the old behind, but I have not arrived in the new yet. And maybe that is exactly where I am supposed to be right now – no more fighting, no more proving myself. And all of this is not a lack of ambition – it is an act of self-respect. This journey is not running away; it is an honest experiment with myself. And among all the inner questioning and overthinking, there is something that feels especially good here: the time with the other female riding guides. Cooking together, drinking coffee, chatting, laughing, sharing worries. This simple togetherness. I notice how much this does me good – being around women again, allowing closeness, experiencing things together without having to achieve anything. And yes, despite all the thoughts and questions, there are these moments that I consciously enjoy and celebrate inside. Small moments that simply feel right. I am allowed to admit to myself: I have an incredibly good, privileged life, and I am grateful for it.
And then there is this wildlife that amazes me anew every single day. Animals not from a jeep, not from a safe distance, but so close, so present, so real. Right in the middle of it all from horseback, simply observing. All the baby animals that put a smile on your face with their clumsy little movements. These encounters ground me. They pull me out of my head and into the present moment. Out here, between dust, endless landscapes, wind, and life, I am allowed to simply exist and experience. And with this feeling, I want to end this entry – with gratitude, wonder, and the knowledge that this time, with all its questions, is an incredible enrichment.
P.S.: As soon as I have a good internet connection again, I will update the blog post and add photos.
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