The old dies - and it makes a racket.

It's August 2026 and the atmosphere outside has been tense for weeks. I'm writing this to you with the feeling that something is about to change – and not just the weather.

And BAM, two days after I started the newsletter and the accompanying blog post, the temperatures drop and my shorts and top, in which I've been sweating for weeks, are no longer enough. I'm sitting here in a sweatshirt and socks as I type this.

Even before the solar eclipse last week, I was hearing the same thing everywhere. Nervous system down. Depression. Anxiety. Fever without a cold. Sleep that won't come—or fatigue that won't go away. And flies—where did they all suddenly come from?

At first I thought I was alone in this. Then I read my notes and talked to my community. I'm not. You probably aren't either.

The old order is dying. And it's making a lot of noise.

This is not a mistake. This is not a sign that something is wrong. A snake doesn't shed its skin because it is sick. A butterfly doesn't retreat into its cocoon because it has failed.

The old skin no longer fits – and the new skin isn't finished yet. This moment in between – that might be you right now.

What I've observed since around 2011: collective shifts announce themselves in the body before the mind understands them. Three days of fever before the first word is spoken—just like with children. The body knows first.

The Schumann resonance is becoming increasingly extreme and frequent; I've been observing this for over ten years now. Everything is getting faster, everything is becoming more extreme.

Our nervous system reacts to this – whether we want it to or not. And when, at the same time, the world outside is burning, wars are raging, and the old order is collapsing with a loud crash – then that is collective exhaustion. Not a personal weakness.

We have things we need to do, but it seems like there's simply no time for anything anymore. You take a deep breath and firmly focus on the things that are important to you. You make yourself a cup of tea; everything is perfect. You've carved out a few extra hours for yourself.

Then suddenly an email. A phone call. The doorbell rings and the mail is at the door. The tax office has a few more questions. Your daughter urgently needs your help. The landlord calls; he urgently needs to cut off the electricity. And then, an hour later, another attempt. And then, suddenly, a vibratory plate compactor starts up outside on the street. They're finishing the road, which has been unusable for three weeks.

Do you know that feeling? I experience it almost every day, and people I talk to feel the same way. Sometimes you feel like you're going crazy.

As if that weren't enough, the Earth's magnetic field, and ours along with it, is constantly shifting, and sometimes we feel like we're transforming all of humanity's pain for the whole world. Phew. That's enough.

What really helps, not theoretically: SWITCHING IT OFF.

Not forever. Just a moment each day where you consciously tune your mind to a different channel. Grounding. Barefoot. Breath. Silence. Body.

Not to ignore the world.

But so that you can still hear yourself.

Think or say: "I ground, ground, ground myself." And imagine deep roots from your body connecting with Pachamama, Gaia, or Mother Earth—whatever you want to call her. And breathe. Deeply into your belly.

You are not the CEO of the universe. You don't have to control everything. Not now. Not immediately.

One step at a time.