Oceans, covering almost three quarters of our blue planet´s surface. Dolphins leaping and surfing the waves. Huge gentle whales diving down deep. Thousands of tiny yellow fish create an own being. Bright orange and red coral – home for millions of living beings.

Mountain rivers with rainbow trout and pink-colored pebbles. Transparent, cool water splashing downwards. Tall oaks and pines, the smell of sap in the air. Pure, fresh air. A falcon´s cry, invisible to the eye, so high up. A deer appears, grazes, big ears and dark eyes listen and look attentively.

By the time I am 30 – having gone through numerous experiences with employers -, I come to the conclusion that my only boss on this planet is the Earth herself. Earth gives me a home, food and clothing. I talk to her, ask her questions. She answers. Sometimes, she talks to me without my asking her. I do what she tells me, follow her guidance; nobody else´s.

The universe created heaven and Earth, not heaven and hell.

Trees as high as buildings, lush green leafy roofs. Monkeys holler, leap through branches. Iridescent butterflies the size of a hand. Hot, humid air. Flowers and plants of all shapes, colors and smells. Purple frogs glowing in the dark.

Villages and cities with town squares and statues of past history. Markets with people from all over the world selling and buying, talking and looking. Handcrafted clothing and fabrics. Tables full of fruit and vegetable. Children running and laughing.

It is such a miracle and wonder – this planet. So much beauty.

Aside from Earth, I also talk with other beings: angels, animal guides, fairies and nature beings, spirit entities, star family and spiritual teachers. Not to forget the dolphins and whales. Nowadays communicating with them is second nature.

In my childhood it is natural, too. But growing up in an environment that doesn´t support this, I lose this ability for a decade. It doesn´t return until I am in my early twenties. That is when the opening – or should I say re-opening – begins.

I call these events »openings«, because they are exactly that: opening up to more than the eye can see - to the invisible world.

The visible world is what we can see: stones, plants, animals, people and everything humans have created on Earth. The invisible world is what flows and pulsates behind all this; the soul of everything. It is what makes life as we know it take place – where we come from when we are born and where we return to when we die. The Hawaiian Huna-tradition calls this life force mana, the Yogis of India name this energy prana. It also includes many beings and spirit entities, there to help and guide us. That has been their job for aeons.

My first opening happens while I am in Namibia on a two-week assignment for the women´s magazine marie claire. I am researching for an article about the relationship between Caucasians and Coloreds there since the land´s independence from South Africa in 1990. Accompanying me is a photographer, himself a white South African. On the way there on our long flight, he tells me his story: that he is in the army by the time he is 18 years against the freedom fighters in Namibia. After only a short period, he is struck by lightning – and survives. This experience literally en-lightens him. It wakes him up to what he is actually doing there: fighting in an inhumane war. He awakens from the craziness of any war. After his reconvalescence he moves to Europe to become a photographer and filmmaker.

We travel all over the country, driving endless miles, visiting numerous people and sites. I am fascinated by the country´s vastness. Sometimes we stop the car in the middle of nowhere. We get out, silence, in the desert. In the far distance a lonely tall tree – or is it a giraffe? Flimmering heat. Nothingness.

After a week I forget to wear my hat. We are in a wildlife reserve, staying in luxurious tents with carpets and beds. By the evening I have a high fever: severe sun stroke. I throw up dinner and manage, with the help of the photographer, to get back to my tent. He gives me electrolytes, waits to make sure I drink a lot before leaving me for the night.

I am in a delirium. I hear sounds outside the tent, animals. Exhausted, I sleep.

I wake up, shivering. I see an antilope standing in my tent. I know it cannot be real, I see the tent flaps closed. Yet there it is. I take my waterglass, to make sure I am not in a dream. I am not, I can drink. I see the antilope. It gazes at me steadily. It is very beautiful. I feel a warm and pleasant tingling spread all over my body as it looks at me.

Suddenly the antilope changes its shape and turns into a tiny, old man. He is wearing nothing but a small loincloth. He appears ancient and must be at least a head shorter than I. He smiles gently. Then he walks over to me and carefully rubs my head, massaging and holding it, for a minute or so. He leaves.

I fall into a deep sleep.

The next morning, I wake up with a headache. The fever is gone. It is lunchtime, I go to the dining room. I meet the photographer. He is surprised to already see me on my feet. I tell him I feel fine, adding jokingly that I dreamt I was healed by an antilope that turned into a little old man. He gives me an intense look and asks me to tell him what happened. »You were being helped by what sounds like a Bushman spirit. Or a Bushman«, he says.

He explains to me that the Bushmen are the indigenous people of the southern African countries, living in tribes in the desert. »They are the only ones who can live here without the help of technology. They practice their own shamanism.« I have never heard this word before and look at the photographer questioningly. »They are able to heal with the energy flow of nature and the universe«, he explains.

I am fascinated by the concept that everything is one, is connected. That we are all sparks from the same light, the same source; that which people call God. That there are healers who are able to shapeshift into animals - like maybe the Bushman did into an antilope to come and help me so that I would recover soon to carry on for the research of my article.

I ask the photographer why he knows all this. He tells me that he had a similar experience after he was struck by lightning: »I am convinced the Bushmen or Bushmen spirits saved my life. After that, I started researching their ways. In the process, I discovered what was really inside me, my true being. You know«, he says looking at my intently, »you´re not only about what you look like, what sex you are and how you were raised. You´re about your true life´s calling. What you came here for. Your unique, one of a kind cosmic blueprint.«

We have just a few days left and continue on our assignment. On one particular day, we meet a hitchhiker at a restaurant. We give him a lift to the next larger town, several hours away. He is Australian, beaming and handsome, about my age – I am 23 at the time. He says he has been traveling for over a year, after completing his college studies. He wants to travel the world before returning home and getting a job.

I enjoy his presence, his friendly and relaxed demeanor. He is interesting to talk and listen to. I think to myself that I would also love to travel the world with a backpack.

Upon returning home, I can´t get this idea out of my head. Even though I have a top-notch job as assistant editor for marie claire with a promising career ahead – the pull onward is stronger. So I decide to quit and just do it: travel the world with a backpack. I have always been a good student, started university with 17, graduate magna cum laude second best of my class with 500 students, editor-in-chief of the university newspaper. I am confident that I will get a job again, upon returning from my world travels.

Six months later I have saved up enough money to last me a year on a backpacker´s budget. I sell most of what I own and cancel all my insurances, even my health insurance. I want to be free as a bird and just fly through life for a while. No responsibilities, no strings attached.

I decide to start in Asia, in the Himalayas. From there I will travel all around the world. So my first stop is Bhutan, where my second opening happens.