Knowing before knowing
Knowing Before Knowing
When I started my coaching journey, I didn't really know what to expect.
It was more of a sense. A stirring. Something was up and I couldn't quite name it yet.
I had worked most of my professional life in IT—starting on the business side and growing into different roles over the years. And through all of it, I always had this quiet feeling that something was missing.
I knew it.
But honestly, I never acted, because I didn't know what to do with that sense.
And I never asked for help.
I mean—who could have answered what was missing, when I didn't even have the question yet?
Then the time came when I slowed down.
Still without answers.
But something was finding its way up.
Slowly.
Not with pressure.
Just... making itself known.
That's when I found coaching.
And somehow, in that moment, I knew.
I signed up.
The journey started.
And it will always continue.
What happened since?
A lot.
The short version:
I now do what I love.
Coaching is surprisingly difficult to explain to someone who hasn't experienced it.
It's not advice.
It's not therapy.
It's not someone telling you what to do.
It's a space where you get to think out loud—without judgement, without someone else's agenda.
A space where questions you didn't know you had begin to surface.
Where something that felt stuck starts to move.
It can help when you're in the middle of a decision and can't find clarity.
When something feels off but you can't quite name it.
When you know you want something different but don't know where to begin.
Or simply when life feels noisy and you would like the space to hear yourself again.
It isn't about having someone else's answers.
It's about creating the space to discover your own.
Today, coaching has become one of the most meaningful parts of my work.
Every conversation is different because every person brings a different story, a different perspective and a different way of making decisions.
Over the years, I've noticed that these moments come up more often than we might think. Not only when changing jobs, but in many moments of life. We wonder whether we're following our own reasons or someone else's expectations.
Sometimes we don't begin with an answer.
Sometimes we begin with a quiet sense that something wants to change.
Looking back, I'm grateful I chose to listen.
The reasons were never mine
What makes a decision the right one?
I remember sitting at my desk on a Friday, years ago, already dreading Monday. Not because the weekend was too short, but because two days felt like nothing against everything waiting for me when it ended.
I was still in my probation period. Everyone told me to push through. Stick to it for two years, then switch departments. You're secure. You already have a job. You've changed companies too many times. It will look bad on your CV…
Those were the reasons people gave me to stay.
But the reasons were never mine.
Five months in, I came to the office as I did every day, not knowing what the day would bring. I sat down at my desk and decided, enough.
I wrote my resignation letter.
No more thinking. No more weighing the options. It was done.
I asked my manager if he had a minute. I handed him the resignation letter. He looked at me… and at the end asked if I would at least finish the day.
I said no.
I didn't ask my family for permission beforehand. I informed them afterwards.
I walked out relieved. Not worried about finding another job. Not worried about losing unemployment benefits because I had decided to leave. None of that weighed anything against how light I suddenly felt.
What I didn't know then was that I would end up somewhere else. I stayed there for ten years and still have wonderful memories of that time.
I've been thinking about that day a lot lately because I've been thinking about how differently we all make decisions.
Some people always know where they want to go. Their decisions move them towards a clear destination.
Others don't.
Their decisions reveal the path one step at a time.
For some, a decision isn't a step towards something fixed. It's the next piece of a puzzle. You pick it up, see if it fits, and the next piece appears from there. If it doesn't fit, you adjust. Sometimes that means changing direction completely.
That was me, that Friday.
I didn't know what came next.
I just knew that piece didn't fit anymore.
Neither way is better.
To me, they're simply different ways of arriving somewhere that feels true.
What I've learned is that the method matters less than whether the decision was actually mine.
That day, everyone around me had a process for staying. It was reasonable. It was careful.
It wasn't wrong.
It just wasn't mine.
The moment I followed my own way instead of someone else's, the decision felt right, even without a plan for what came next.
If you need information before deciding, trust that.
If you decide by feeling, trust that.
If you need to talk things through before anything becomes clear, trust that too.
Your way doesn't have to look like someone else's.
Earth Day - a reflection from the inside out
Rest is Part of Growth
Life fills up fast. I think most of us know and experience this at some point.
There are appointments, school runs, deadlines, grocery lists, and somewhere in between all of that - actual work. We wear so many hats in a single day: Taxi driver, nurse, organiser, cook, listener, scheduler. And often somewhere at the bottom of that list: ourselves.
I know this from my own life. Not as a theory, but as a reality. And I wouldn't want to miss a single thing out of this.
And still, I look outside, take time. At the Rhine meadow near where I live in Cologne / Köln, where I took this photo. And I notice something.
Nature is not rushing.
The wildflowers aren’t rushing. The grass isn’t worried about next week. Things are growing. Slowly and quietly. In their own time.
I think that sometimes it helps to remember. Remember that we are part of nature, too.
Slowing down doesn't mean we stop. It doesn't mean I procrastinate or fall behind. It means allowing yourself to look for a moment. To notice what is already there. To let some things take the time they actually need. Because that is not failure. that is not falling behind. That is how things grow. How we grow.
Not every goal needs to be reached by Friday, or end of day. Not every answer comes when we push harder. Sometimes the clearest thinking happens when we finally stop long enough to breathe.
This is not just a nice idea. As a coach, I see it again and again. The women I work with, the mothers, professionals, people carrying a lot, often already know what they need. They just haven’t had a quiet enough moment to hear it.
So if you have a few minutes today: step outside if you can. Or just look out the window. Notice what nature is doing. It has been doing this for a ver long time without a to-do list.
Rest is not the opposite of growth. Rest is part of it.