Why pivots aren't failure

Don’t let society fool you!

I don’t know about you but my favourite childhood stories weren’t from books; they were told by the fire on dark evenings when we begged our mum for “just one more” about her childhood, youth and life before us (a successful bedtime delaying tactic..)

Farm life in the ‘60s and ‘70s wasn’t easy anywhere, and neither in the South of Germany. Cutting newspapers for toilet paper, sharing a toothbrush amongst siblings (eek!) and squeezing a family of eight into a small car built for five. Somehow hard to believe decades later. These stories spark laughter and astonishment, no matter when they are told.

And when my mum told us about opening the first organic shop for her countryside community in the mid-80s, back when organic meant “crazy hippie woman”, we learned that stories are so much more than entertainment: They carry courage, vision, and belonging. Stories connect worlds no history book or business manual ever could. No matter whether you ask a child or an adult, they’ll tell you the same: “we love hearing from everyday people like us”.

I believe it’s no coincidence that many are turning away from seemingly flawless influencers. We’re tired of staged perfection from the last two decades. We want to hear from real humans again.

Fairy tales have their place, too, sure, I still enjoy their magic as a 30-something millennial to this day. (The old ones are art in themselves!) But here, I’d rather we tell those stories of women building, tending, and leading communities, shaping legacy and modern leadership in the here and now without the power of magic wands, flying carpets, and talking porridge pots.

So how’s it going with the Modern Village Stories launch, you may ask?

I wish I could just snip my fingers and everything would be ready to ship to you. Actually, no, it’s fun to figure things out as I go along, as I research fascinating biographies and draft questions. The thrill when you get a Yes via email, even more exciting when you find a date in everyone’s busy calendar to record the interview…a priceless process full of joy and learning.

You see, I’m a networker at heart. I love connecting people and meeting new faces (generator 4/6 for those who care). And then I love hiding away again, like right now, sitting by the river as I type these words.

Working on this storytelling project reminds me how essential it is to stretch into unknown territory, to allow discomfort and mistakes. Otherwise, life becomes stale. And to be really honest, I got too comfortable these past few years.

I co-launched a mentoring program, burnt out, ran out of money, and worked too hard to rebuild a less stressful life. Ironic, I know. I put myself together again slowly and sustainably, but I also went a bit numb inside. I lost joy because I starved myself of connection and co-creation. I still wrote those seasonal reflections and self-leadership pieces over the last 3-4 years, those that you loved and why you are still here. THANK YOU! But I missed making space for other voices and collaborating on projects. I got a bit tired of just talking to myself, sharing my own thoughts and reflections, no matter how well they landed. I have this space, not sharing it with others would be eccentric.

Reflecting on all of the above, I thought it’s time to take you along, give you an honest autumn update from my sunny spot by the river. Here, where the tiny waves gurgle over rocks, guitar songs drift in the wind, and chatter floats by, I hold my face into the sun, watch people and think. For me, ideas always flow better near water. Have you tried it, too?

Long story short: The Modern Village Stories launch is delayed.

I recorded the first episode, but some technical issues require me to edit two recordings together. time I haven’t had yet. The summer brought an unexpected surgery and energy-consuming recovery. My autumn and winter course on seasonal craft, creativity and connection won’t happen in person. And that’s okay. No story, no drama. My priorities had to shift and adapt to life. Frankly, I no longer believe such decisions are a sign of failure. I think it’s our human nature to reassess, shift, and change with our inner and outer world.

Don’t let society fool you!

With that in mind, do you know your capacity for the rest of the year? What might you tuck away, so the essentials get your attention in the darker season ahead?

My phone battery is running low, and I need to cycle home - my first day on a bike in 6 weeks; one of many firsts post-surgery makes me so immensely grateful for life and what our bodies are capable of. With this, I hope you, too, are finding moments that inspire and spark joy.

Stories of the Modern Village are dropping in the coming weeks to keep you company over the winter!

Thank you for being here, through the ups and downs, shifts and changes!

With love from the Alps,

Carmen