You’re functioning, but you’re not living.

A Personal Journey Back to the Root – and the Beginning of My Work

I tried so many tools. I did shadow work, listened to inner child meditations, dissolved and reprogrammed my beliefs. I protected my energy, burned incense, got lost in rituals, wrote lists, transformed under full moons. I knew how to let go. How to manifest. How to "heal."

We’ve all done it. And yet so many people – myself included – keep returning to the same point. Again and again. The same patterns. The same blocks. The same emptiness. The same exhaustion. Even though we’ve cleared so much. Even though we’ve understood so much. Even though we’re "spiritually awake."

I’ve gone through deep processes – within myself, with clients, in my work. I’ve held space for years and guided people through transformation. And still, there was something inside me that never fully opened. Something that kept resurfacing. Like a quiet layer that refused to heal – not because it was broken, but because it had only ever been suppressed.

And then my grandfather fell into a coma. I knew instantly that I had to go see him. I didn’t think. I didn’t plan. I just went. Alone. Abroad. Not speaking the language. I functioned. I organized. I coordinated. But I didn’t feel. I was in survival mode. And yet, under the surface, something started to crack.

While sitting at his bedside, I felt that it wasn’t just him who was dying. It was as if an entire story was leaving with him – and I was the vessel it had to pass through. He died in a place located exactly on one of my astrocartography lines. Of all places, it was on a line connected to my 4th house – the astrological domain of family, origins, roots, emotional safety, and inner home. I didn’t consciously understand it then. But my body knew. And that wouldn’t be the last call.

In my grieving phase, I felt the presence of my ancestors so strongly. Not symbolically. Tangibly. I felt them with me – in my body, in my dreams, in the air.

One morning I woke up and knew I had to go to Poland. Not because I planned to – but because my system pulled me there. Once again, I packed my bag alone and left, not knowing what exactly I was looking for. My first stop was the holiest place in Poland: Częstochowa and the Black Madonna. And already there, I felt Mary’s presence. Not as a saint in the churchy sense – but as the primal mother. She accompanied me through the entire journey – like an ancient voice walking silently beside me.

But the real call led me deeper. To two villages in Poland that lie deep within my bloodline. I had been there once as a teenager with my grandparents, and I still remember that moment vividly: I stood in front of my family’s house. Next to it: a small Mary chapel. Both crumbling, overgrown. And suddenly I began to cry – intensely, without reason, without explanation. I was young, and it overwhelmed me. I didn’t know why my body reacted so strongly. I didn’t know the story. But my body did.

Years later, I looked at my birth chart. And suddenly it made sense. Chiron in Cancer. The wound of emotional homelessness. An astrological marker for ancestral themes like displacement, dispossession, loss of home, war, parentless children, orphans, emotional insecurity. That was the core. Not just my personal story – but my epigenetic imprint. A pattern passed down and playing out in my own life.

This time, when I returned, everything was different. I wasn’t the overwhelmed teenager anymore. I came with humility, but also with preparation. Would I find the place again? Would I react the same? My family had told me the house no longer existed.

On the way to the village, I stopped at the lake. I had always loved water – but there I realized just how deeply rooted my connection to water was, even epigenetically. Water stands for home, for trust, for feeling. Suddenly I was overcome with grief. I saw visions of screaming women running through forests – in panic. As it turned out later, they were women from my lineage. This story didn’t unfold in my mind. It unfolded in the tissue of my body.

Just when I thought I wouldn’t find the place again, the chapel appeared. Renovated. In the exact same spot. But the house was gone. Bulldozers stood on the land. A sign read: "For Sale."

Rarely in my life have I cried so much. Not because I was sad. But because, for the first time, I physically understood what epigenetic pain truly is. This layer doesn’t live in the mind. Not in the emotion. But in the bones.

Intuitively, I began working with ThetaHealing. I stood there, crying, feeling, and quietly began to release. Especially the pain of displacement. The pain of my ancestors who lost everything. The collective trauma that no one spoke of, but everyone carried.

The next day, I continued on to Gietrzwałd. A small village where the other side of my family comes from. Another story of loss. Children who lost their parents. Relatives who took their homes. A silent longing to return – a longing that was never fulfilled.

But Gietrzwałd is also a sacred place. A site of multiple reported apparitions of Mary. A spring was built there, believed to have healing powers. When I arrived, I felt peace for the first time on this journey.

I stood at the spring, drank the water – and I understood. Why my second name is Maria. Why water soothes me. Why, as a child, I preferred to sit by the water instead of playing with others. Later, I looked again at my chart: Jupiter in Cancer. Growth, protection, meaning – in a water sign. In the sign of the primal mother. Jupiter also represents blessed places. And Gietrzwałd lies almost exactly on my North Node line – my soul path.

I didn’t just "understand" something in those days. I remembered. And that remembrance changed my work. Or better said: It showed me why I do what I do.

My work isn’t coaching. It isn’t a concept. It’s a space I hold because I know what it feels like when nothing helps anymore. When no method works. When it’s not about becoming better – but finally becoming true.

I guide people who are standing at the threshold. Who feel there’s something deeper. Who know they’re not "blocked" – but connected. To their story. Their lineage. Their origin.

And if you’ve read this far, maybe you feel it too: This wasn’t just my path. It might be yours too.