Tag Archives: Life

Explorations of human experience, daily living, personal growth, and existence.

#14 Making space to imperfections

Leave a reply

(Average Reading Time: 7 minutes)

I understood early on in my life a very simple yet extremely valuable lesson: focusing on understanding who I am is one of the most important things I could do, if not the most important. However, despite dedicating time and effort trying to get to the core of myself, I often feel distant from it. Every time I learn something that brings me closer, life humbles me with new challenges, reminding me that this is an ongoing process.

I want to approach this topic from a different perspective—an angle I hadn’t considered until I moved to Berlin and met someone special who shed light on an aspect of this journey I couldn’t grasp until recently.

As a further premise, I believe that the pervasive influence of American media, which often portrays idealized and utopian lifestyles, with its emphasis on excessive ambition and idolizing the wealthy and famous while showcasing only their most appealing sides, has had an influence. This culture obscure the human element in people, fueling unrealistic and, to be honest, often unworthy aspirations. As I write this, I think about Tyler Durden’s words – the character created by Chuck Palahniuk in Fight Club:

We’ve all been raised on television to believe that one day we’d all be millionaires, and movie gods, and rock stars. But we won’t. And we’re slowly learning that fact. And we’re very, very pissed off.

I would modify this quote, adding that we haven’t only been influenced by television but by various forms of modern media. And, contrary to Durden’s sentiment, there is no valid reason to be “very, very pissed off” about it. On the contrary, I feel relieved to have finally understood the deeper meaning of those words and moved beyond them.

To explain what I mean by this, let me elaborate on my earlier, seemingly inconclusive preamble.

I grew up searching for role models everywhere, only to be disappointed when they inevitably failed to embody their values consistently. This pattern of strict and unfair judgment led me to push away many great people and, even worse, apply this same harshness to myself. It took an enormous effort to develop self-compassion and overcome this ingrained self-criticism.

This approach created numerous problems, but the most troubling was my inability to acknowledge and give space to all aspects of my personality, including the “negative” ones I had long judged harshly. However, once I began to embrace these parts of myself, I started to genuinely appreciate who I am and develop deep empathy for others—even those, I assume, whom most people would find difficult to understand.

There is an important distinction to be made between empathizing with someone and accepting all their actions without discernment. Setting boundaries and recognizing what we can tolerate is a crucial part of this process.

I could delve deeper into this topic, but I’ll stop here by stating that a guiding principle I have integrated into my life is to live authentically, own my attitudes, and avoid being swayed by external influences. Self-analysis, speaking from the heart, therapy, and facing my fears have all helped me identify and step back from mental dependencies. These practices have also revealed the patterns people use to draw admiration for their skills or experiences—and the self-imposing limitations we create.


#13 The woman with the bike on the tram

Leave a reply

(Average Reading Time: 4 minutes)

This morning, I experienced a typical Berlin mid-November scene: a tram packed with moody, wet adults, adolescents, and children on their way to work and school. The energy was subdued yet calming. Despite the lack of enthusiasm and excitement, there was a certain peace in the air. Everyone was minding their own business, respecting the unspoken agreement to keep conversations minimal. Heads were buried in screens, books, or gazing out of the window.

As usual, I took out the book I was currently reading and, within moments, was completely absorbed. The city noises, the smell of soaked bodies—all of it faded as I was drawn deeper into the story. The opening and closing of doors at each stop and the subtle shifts in the crowd barely registered as I turned page after page.

Then, the flow of the commute was interrupted. A woman with a bike entered the tram exactly where I was standing forcing me to make a couple of steps back and squeeze myself against a bench of strangers, including a tiny girl that had chosen a corner for herself to zoom out of the rest of the crowd. The woman with the bike pushed her way in, further jostling against the tightly packed passengers, risking injury to both children and adults standing shoulder to shoulder. Eyes turned toward her, expecting an apology, a conciliatory smile, or, better yet, her realizing the situation and stepping back out. But none of that happened. She stood there, straight and stiff, chin held high, exuding an air of entitlement I had rarely seen.

I noticed a baby seat attached to the back of her bike as she pressed a few children against the doors. The passengers, already drained and bracing for their day ahead, lacked the energy to challenge her behavior. It was simply too early for that. And me? I wouldn’t dare confront a mother during the morning rush in a city as ultra-feminist and politically correct as Berlin. Not a chance.

Still, like everyone else, I was irritated. The carefully curated, mid-November bubble of morning quiet had burst. The shared sense of empathy was gone, replaced by heavy sighs and exasperated glances as the tram carried us to the next stops.

Finally, my transfer stop arrived. I crossed the street to the S-Bahn at Alexanderplatz, boarded the train, and reopened my book, ready to return to my story.

Written on 14.11.2024

#12 The paradox of self-awareness

Leave a reply

(Average Reading Time: 6 minutes)

Recently, I watched a wonderful film called E.1027 – Eileen Gray and the house by the sea. What I loved most about it, without going into a detailed plot description, was the self-awareness displayed by the main character as she navigated intense events in her career and personal life.

I was struck by her ability to discern, with extreme clarity, what she wanted and where she drew her boundaries. She always knew what affected her, in what ways, and what she wanted to do about it. She would then act in alignment with her needs, accepting the consequences without victimizing herself, while allowing space for the emotions that naturally arose.

There were simple things she said that were impactful, eye-opening, and at the same time extremely relatable. It felt as though I had arrived at the same conclusions myself many times before—only to forget them again and again.

For example, at one point she says something along these lines regarding how relationships disrupt her work:
“A constant stream of conversations and small activities prevents me from focusing on projects I value […] I need to spend days in a row on my own to allow ideas to flow again.”

At another moment, she reflects:
“People and open spaces sometimes frighten me.”

Or, as a conclusion on her search for a place she could call home:
“The home I was looking for was in my imagination, in my work.”

I was moved by these statements, primarily because they were part of the character’s inner dialogue, free from judgment and filled with compassion.

And that’s where, once again, I acknowledged the power of self-compassion—the value of a kind and empathetic inner dialogue, which has such profound potential to support us through life’s challenges.

Yet there’s also a deceiving aspect to self-awareness. I think it’s essential to allow self-awareness to simply be, rather than overthinking it as a concept. Our minds are like lighthouses: they illuminate what needs attention, although sometimes we need to elevate our perspective to truly see the full panorama.

Self-awareness is not a destination; it’s an evolving aspect of our growth, and it requires an openness to paradox. Embracing self-compassion alongside self-awareness can help us navigate this journey, allowing us to uncover insights and perspectives that guide us—perhaps not always where we expected, but ultimately, where we need to be.

#8 Care less, work smarter

Leave a reply

(Average Reading Time: 7 minutes)

There are some simple lessons in life that we should never forget, as they have a significant impact on our mental and physical well-being. Things like going for a walk every day, spending time with friends, avoiding ultra-processed foods, cutting back on alcohol and smoking, not taking what people say too seriously, having a hobby, setting personal goals, and limiting social media use are all crucial. These practices form the building blocks that shape our values and behavioural patterns, helping us grow in a healthy and sustainable way.

That being said, there is one major lesson I find myself coming back to over and over again: caring less about my job. I have to constantly remind myself of this, as it’s easy to get caught up in the demands and pressures of work. But what do I mean by “caring less”? Or rather, what don’t I mean?

I don’t mean being unprofessional, neglecting our responsibilities, ignoring our colleagues, or disregarding the values of the companies we work for. We all know what we’re signing up for when we accept a job, and that involves meeting certain expectations. What I do mean is not letting work dominate our lives, not thinking that our self-worth is tied to promotions, or believing that our achievements define who we are. It’s about recognizing that being a top performer, having a perfectionist approach, or always striving for the next goal doesn’t necessarily lead to a fulfilling life. We must realise that accuracy and timeliness should not come at the expense of a sustainable and supportive work environment.

At the end of the day, we all need a warm meal, shelter, and clothes—that’s why we work. But what truly matters is cultivating a sense of community and connection, which is far more valuable than chasing status or praise.

Here’s what I’ve learned about working smarter by caring less

Blend in with the team, but don’t lose your values. This doesn’t mean conforming to every workplace norm or abandoning your principles; it means finding a balance between fitting in and staying true to who you are.

Optimise your efforts. Do your job well, but make it effortlessly. Working smart means completing tasks effectively without overexerting yourself. Strive for consistency and efficiency instead of always aiming to over-deliver. Remember, sometimes “good enough” is just fine!

Make friends at work, not enemies. You’ll spend a significant portion of your life with your colleagues, so keeping relationships pleasant is essential. Minimise stress by avoiding conflicts, steering clear of unnecessary arguments, and fostering a smooth, cooperative work environment. Focus on getting tasks done well and quickly without feeling the need to prove anything to anyone.

Detach your identity from your job title. Your worth isn’t defined by your position or company achievements. What you do for a living is not who you are as a person. It’s crucial to maintain a healthy boundary between your professional life and your sense of self.

Prioritise your time and energy. Ask yourself, “Is this worth the stress?” If the answer is no, don’t overextend yourself for something that won’t matter in the grand scheme of things.

What not to do

Don’t obsess over performance reviews. They often create a false sense of purpose and can lead to frustration. Instead, focus on what genuinely matters to you in your profession, whether it’s helping clients, mentoring colleagues, or refining a particular skill.

Don’t compare yourself to others. It’s tempting to measure your success against your peers, but this only adds unnecessary pressure. Concentrate on your own daily progress and keep things simple—your career is your personal journey.

Don’t let work dictate your happiness. If your mood swings according to your job performance, you’re giving too much power to external factors. Find joy and fulfillment outside the office, where real life happens.

Don’t feel obligated to respond to every email or request immediately. Not everything is urgent, and learning to prioritize and set boundaries is key to avoiding burnout. Manage expectations by setting reasonable response times.

Life is much more than the work we do

We often tie our self-worth to professional achievements, letting our jobs shape our identities. When we start caring less about what society tells us important, we create space for a healthier, more balanced life. Understanding what working smart means to us is key. For me, it’s about knowing when to let go, setting boundaries, and choosing sustainable growth over chasing perfection.

#7 Going through the stages of a layoff

Leave a reply

(Average Reading Time: 8 minutes)

As I wait to start my new job role at the beginning of next month, I can’t help but reflect on what brought me here: the layoffs at my previous company. It’s a frustrating topic—especially as layoffs have been an unfortunate trend this year too—but one worth sharing. Many professionals are currently going through the same experience, and I hope this reflection might help someone navigate their own journey.

Experiencing layoffs for the first time can be overwhelming. The emotions that come with it—shock, frustration, even shame—are intense. Looking back, I realize that if someone had told me what lay ahead, I might have reacted more positively (or maybe not, who knows!). But one thing I’m sure of is that, if I had to go through it again (which I hope I don’t), I’d handle it better, thanks to the lessons I’ve learned.

Here are the stages I went through, from the moment I received the bad news to the moment I landed another job.

The shock

I had a sense that something was coming at my company, but I didn’t expect it to hit me. Just weeks before, I’d joined a new team with the prospect of being promoted to lead the content internationalisation efforts. It was a challenging time—my manager was on maternity leave, and the workload had increased. The team was struggling, morale was low, and I was left to figure things out on my own.

But that’s where I thrive. I love high-pressure situations. Just as I started to get a handle on my new responsibilities, I received an email: a sudden 15-minute all-hands meeting scheduled for Monday. It felt suspicious. We had just acquired a competitor, so nobody expected layoffs. But I did. Company communication had been poor for months, with leadership throwing out vague praise like, “You’re all in the driver’s seat!” despite the bad numbers and other red flags that were as obvious as a summer sun.

When the CEO and founder announced that 20% of the workforce would be laid off, we were all stunned. They said we’d know who was affected within 30 minutes. It was one of the longest half-hours of my life, but deep down, I knew I would be on the list. And I was right.

Anger, hurt, and feeling lost

The email arrived, confirming what I feared. I felt angry, hurt, and, most of all, lost. It was a shock that hit me harder than most life events—on par with moments like the covid lockdowns or the loss of a loved one. Working in an almost fully remote team made it worse. There was no office to gather in, no teammates to share a drink with after a devastating day. My company accounts were shut down immediately, leaving me isolated. I felt ashamed, even though there was no reason to feel that way.

The loneliness of remote work and my sense of disconnection, reminding me of my childhood years, when I first moved to Italy and struggled to adapt to a new culture. The layoff brought back those feelings of being lost and misunderstood.

Navigating the German job market and filing for unemployment

Though it was a tough time, I’m grateful that it happened in Germany. The country’s social support system is exceptional. I eventually turned to the Agentur für Arbeit to file for Arbeitslosengeld (unemployment benefits), and while the process involved a lot of paperwork and back-and-forth, I felt supported. They provided clear guidance, and my previous company also did what they could to help us transition. But, at the time, I was too emotionally drained to fully take advantage of those resources.

Still, Arbeitslosengeld helped me cover my rent and necessities while I regrouped and planned my next steps. For anyone going through a similar situation, I highly recommend contacting the Agentur für Arbeit right away (it must happen within the first three working days following the layoff)—it’s a crucial step in moving forward.

Seeking distractions

During the summer 2023, I sought distractions wherever I could. I enjoyed what Berlin had to offer: spending a few weekends at Berghain, attending the Fusion Festival, or just getting lost in the city’s vibrant culture. It was a much-needed escape from the daily grind of rejection emails and fruitless interviews.

I realised that, sometimes, it’s okay to take a break. Finding balance is key when you’re in such a high-stress situation. The emotional toll can be heavy, and allowing yourself moments of joy can help you stay resilient.

Rebuilding my job search strategy

After a few months, I had to face reality and reconstruct a proper structure for my job search. I overhauled my CV, updated my LinkedIn profile, and reached out to my network. It was a repetitive, exhausting process—applying for jobs, going through endless interviews, and then never hearing back from recruiters.

But I didn’t give up. I also took the opportunity to improve my German, enrolling in a courses, workshops and other professional activities. It helped me feel productive and gave me the confidence to apply for roles that required a higher level of language proficiency.

The lucky break

And then, when I least expected it, I received the call. A new job offer! It’s funny how that works. After months of feeling stuck and discouraged, everything turned around in a single phone call.

Looking back, I see that the job search is like planting seeds—you never know when or where they’ll sprout, but persistence pays off in the end. If you’re currently in this stage, know that your lucky break might be just around the corner, even though it might feel that way.

#6 Reconnecting with an old colleague

Leave a reply

(Average Reading Time: 4 minutes)

Yesterday, I had a video call with Andrea, someone I had the pleasure of working with back when I was living in Barcelona. Andrea and I were quite close, and along with Alberto, another colleague from our team, we used to go swimming twice a week. We shared breaks, went for after-work drinks, and had intimate conversations—all as a trio. It felt like an empowering and well-balanced brotherhood. But life took its course, and our bond slowly faded as new adventures drew us into different environments, new people, and new groups.

A month ago, I reached out to Andrea for a work recommendation, and he didn’t hesitate to respond. That simple message sparked a conversation that eventually led to the video call I mentioned.

Andrea is one of those rare people who brings harmony wherever he goes, without even trying. He has this approachable, non-judgmental vibe, and he’s easy to talk to—kind, generous, knowledgeable, and creative. On top of that, he has an infectious sense of humor. As we talked, I couldn’t help but think, “How did I let such a great friend slip away from my life?” We realized we hadn’t spoken in eight years! When we did the math, we kept repeating, “crazy, crazy.” But is it really? For me, this has become a normal pattern.

I’ve started my life over at least five times, each time in a different country, with different languages, cultures, and, of course, social circles. My whole life has been lived abroad. When I was nine, my mother and I moved to Italy, and we never really went back. That meant leaving behind friends and relatives who were close to me during my childhood. This wasn’t by choice—it’s just a reality I had to accept early on. When you move so much, you need to emotionally adjust, letting go of people in order to make room for the new ones you meet at each stage of life.

This conversation with Andrea made me reflect, but I will not turn it into some resolution. My bucket list already has enough to-dos, and the last thing I need is another random one. However, what I am taking away from this amazing reconnection is the importance of nurturing the unique relationships that currently bring me joy. I am realising more and more, even though pretty late, that it’s not just about moving on to new experiences, but about recognizing the value of the connections we’ve made along the way. Life may constantly evolve, but it’s the enduring relationships that provide a sense of continuity, grounding us in who we are, no matter where we go.