Even though I’ve kept a blog for several years, I decided to start fresh here on my new website. This first post is meant to be a more personal introduction to the path I’ve now set foot on: self-employment as an MBSR and mindfulness teacher.
To be honest, writing those words—“teacher”—still feels a little uncomfortable. Immediately I notice embarrassment, as if I’m comparing myself to the true masters I’ve learned from over the past forty years. But this is the path I’ve chosen, and it would not be fair to myself to dismiss it. The truth is, I would not be here without the many teachers who guided me, supported me, and lit the way. This post is also a tribute and a thank you to them:
- Pema Chödrön
- Jack Kornfield
- Tara Brach
- Joseph Goldstein
- Christopher Titmuss
- Jon Kabat-Zinn
- Sam Harris
- Mark Epstein
- Ayya Khema
- Miles Neale
Of these, I’ve only met two in person: Christopher Titmuss, who is currently my teacher in a course I’m taking, and Miles Neale, whom I met in London during a book tour when he offered a two-day gathering at a Buddhist center.
Through books, podcasts, recordings, courses, and videos, I grew step by step. The most recent chapter of this journey began around 2010, when I returned to Germany after living in the United States for twenty-five years. But the story really began much earlier.
In my late teens, I became curious about the self and started exploring through journaling. It was the pre-internet 1980s, and answers could only be found in books and through self-discovery. One of the first books I read was Living, Loving & Learning by Leo Buscaglia. In the introduction, he writes:
“Each path is only one of a million paths… your decision to keep on the path or to leave it must be free of fear and ambition… ask yourself… Does this path have a heart? If it does, then the path is good. If it doesn’t, it is of no use. … As you get closer and closer … come on as you are.”
Another important influence at that time was Hermann Hesse, whose novels (Demian, Steppenwolf, Siddhartha…) accompanied me during and after college. Later, the psychologist Carl Jung opened my eyes to therapy, dreams, and the inner world.
When I moved to San Francisco in the early 1990s, I began a ten-year therapy with a wonderful Jungian therapist. With her help, I was determined to peel off the heavy layers that kept me imprisoned, layers that held me back from living with inner freedom. I recently found a drawing I had made during that time. It showed myself locked in a cage, holding the key in my own hand.
Even though I had the power to unlock the door, I remained trapped. My journey would be about finding the courage to finally use the key.
It took many years of persistence, commitment, and willingness to face my fears and weaknesses. I had to learn to show my vulnerabilities, the underbelly of my true self. Slowly, layers began to fall away, and answers started to come.
Meditation had always been in the background. Even in my early twenties, I sensed there was something powerful about sitting quietly. But it wasn’t until I returned to Germany in my forties, during a time of major life change, that I returned more seriously to practice. I began developing a regular routine and immersing myself in the teachers I mentioned above. By then, online resources—audios, podcasts, videos—had become widely available, and I took full advantage.
Around the same time, I found another wonderful therapist in my hometown whose focus was on body-based therapy. Our sessions would begin with thirty minutes of conversation, then he would guide me into a state of relaxation. With eyes closed, I followed his voice into the sensations and emotions connected to what we had just discussed. This work brought me from the realm of the mind into the language of the body. Staying with whatever arose—sometimes a deeper understanding, sometimes tears—was often intense. But my openness allowed me to experience release and lightness.
For me, becoming an MBSR and mindfulness teacher is not only about sharing my passion for these practices, but also about encouraging others to find the courage to walk their own path. Each of us holds the key to our self-made cages. With patience and practice, we can begin to peel back the layers, discover our inner freedom, and live with more clarity and compassion.