unlocked. His wife, Laura, hated him for it. Holding a duffle bag in his hands, he approached his red Ford Mustang V8, parked with the front wheels casually turned in front of the two-car garage. The Sales Director for Central and Eastern Europe of a global glass manufacturer drove the most striking company car at the entire Vienna site. But Patrick was far too successful for his colleagues, boss, or boss' boss to dare to blame him for this extravagance. The others can drive their "taxis" – this is what Patrick called the dark grey and black limousine monotony in the company parking lot. He preferred to have a little fun in the streets. After all, life was short.
When Patrick threw his duffel bag in the back seat, got behind the wheel and closed the driver's side door, he grabbed his smartphone to listen to his favorite playlist on the infotainment system. At the same moment, he thought of Laura. She had said goodbye to him early in the morning and let him sleep in, Patrick pulled up WhatsApp and typed: "Have a safe flight to Seattle, honey! I'm headed to my parents' house now. It's going to be a lot of fun. My mom will miss you. Don't work too hard ;) Kisses, P." Then he drove off. On the way to the southern highway, he turned the music so loud that neither the engine nor the turn signal's ticking could be heard. Then suddenly, the music faded in the middle of a song. An incoming call: Sheila, Patrick's boss. What did she want on a Saturday morning? Patrick answered.
Sheila got straight to the point: "Listen, Patrick: First of all, this phone call never happened. Second, you got the job. The board made a decision tonight, European time. I expect you'll be officially notified by the end of next week. In the meantime, start learning Japanese – your office will be in Shinagawa. In other words, in the Business Class of a Boeing. By the way, congrats. Patrick hit the steering wheel with his right hand and shouted, "Yeah!" His boss's boss told him to have a lovely weekend. "Thanks, Sheila," Patrick said quietly, but she had already ended the call. The music resumed its best-of-best playlist on random playback.
Patrick turned the volume even louder. The windows were shaking. The next song started with a guitar solo before the bass and drums kicked in like an explosion: "Smells Like Teen Spirit" by Nirvana. When he began hearing Kurt Cobain's husky voice, Patrick felt as if the song punched him in his stomach's pit. Next thing he knew, he had tears in his eyes. That was his song at the age of 15, his anthem! And now, just before the ramp to enter the highway, on his way to his parents in Styria, he felt like he was 15 again.
It was the exact feeling he had back then: Patrick against the rest of the world. His life was supposed to be wild and dangerous and never, ever dull! At 15, Patrick had written a letter to himself. He had not thought about it for years. Now he saw himself sitting in his cramped room again – a townhouse in a workers' estate – his walls covered with posters, his desk a mess. He saw himself writing. He had promised himself never to become a slick career guy in that letter. "Fuck the system," he had written back then. Patrick turned the music down, signaled right, and drove into a parking lot. He got out, leaned against the car, closed his eyes, and inhaled the cold air. Where the hell was he now? He had been pushing forward in the last few years, rushing up the corporate ladder and married the greatest woman in the world in between – who mostly worked when he happened to be home. Just like he worked when she was home. And now the big job at HQ in Japan. His big goal will soon become a reality! Global competence, colossal responsibility, appointments on all continents. But all he saw was 15-year-old Patrick. And he was screaming. Not "Here we are now, entertain us!" But: "WHAT ARE YOU DOING?"
When the time comes to reflect on your background
Patrick's 15-year-old version of himself is asking a legitimate question. What is he doing? Or rather: How thoughtful or inconsiderate is Patrick about what is happening in his career – and his life in general? And how consciously or unconsciously does he decide to take it to the next level? Most people don't think about their lives always. This is a good thing because life needs to be lived and not frequently thought about. In crises – be it personal crises, such as a divorce, or global crises, like the Corona Pandemic – many people start to reflect for the first time. Not only during crises but also when major success is just around the corner. The victory for which you may have been working for years. And as soon as you get a call like the one from Patrick's boss, the celebration is often surprisingly brief. After that, a queasy feeling sets in. Or maybe the thought of the family and what the next level will mean for your loved ones. Or the pictures and feelings from your past appear. This is actually quite common.
Acting out of greater self-awareness and consciousness
Many of the people I work with hardly ever talk to anyone in their professional environment about what concerns them on the inside. Mainly when a career leap is about to take place. Some don't even talk to their partner or family about it. But through my work with people in growth situations, I have been able to experience and accompany many internal processes. This is beneficial for you, dear readers because it enables me to write this book. In turn, this allows you to reflect throughout the book and eventually get clarity about what you need to do to take the next step in your career. I am not referring to what you need professionally, because you already know that. Instead, I am talking about what you need to understand yourself better and act out of greater self-awareness. To help you approach things in a way that corresponds more closely to your personality type in the future. Essentially, this entire book is an invitation for you to reflect on yourself and develop a greater level of awareness with a greater sense of complexity.
In this chapter, I am going to start with where your success comes from. Where you come from – because one cannot be separated from the other. Have you ever taken a closer look at your background? If the answer is no, you're probably part of the majority. Everyone comes from somewhere, but most of us simply shrug it off. So, let me ask you this: What is the first thing you think of when you hear the keyword "origin"? Your mother, your father, maybe your siblings and your hometown? The happy days of your childhood, or the terrible ones? Or are you one of those people that quickly become a bit metaphysical when it comes to the topic of "origin"? According to the motto: Who am I, and if yes, how many? Do you think about God when it comes to your origin because you are religious? Or do you think, "I don't know who or what brought me into this world – evolution, my genes, the Flying Spaghetti Monster – but I' m here now and I' m making the best of it?
Welcome to your incarnation! Unfortunately, we've lost the manual …
A while ago, I read a novel that I enjoyed because of its quirky humor. It is called “Mieses Karma” and was written by the German author David Safier. The story begins on the anniversary of the death of TV presenter Kim Lange. She is killed by debris from the disused Russian space station Foton M3 when it crashes into Western Europe due to a miscalculation of Baikonur's control center. Her comment on this from the otherworld: "The day I died was not much fun. And that was not only because of my death. To be more precise: "It barely made it to sixth place in the worst moments of the day." Kim is reincarnated as an ant after a brief trip into the light. Without any prior explanation from a higher being as to what this was all about. She suddenly finds herself in an ant's body and has to navigate through the world of ants. This situation is "the number one of the worst moments" of her death. Shortly after that, she meets a "fat" ant, with a "kind voice" who introduces herself as "Siddhartha Gautama". Better known as Buddha. This ant promptly provides her with an explanation for her reincarnation as a Hymenoptera: "Because you deserve it!" Bad karma? Yeah, I guess. But not as lousy as the karma of dictators. According to the Buddha ant, they're reincarnated as intestinal bacteria.
The best way to find out how this bizarre story unfolds is to read it for yourself if you are ever in the mood for stimulating entertainment. I ask myself concerning the topic of this chapter: Is a reincarnation as a human being that much different from reincarnation as an ant? We have landed somewhere on planet earth without explaining the reasons and without a manual for guidance. We grow up in Styria, in Chhattisgarh, in the San Fernando Valley, on Shikoku or in Ayacucho. Was it karma? Or pure coincidence? Maybe we have already
