6. In each other's most beautiful garden

Homecoming, friendship, and the shared beauty of our emotional world

There is a garden that is, without question, the most beautiful in the world.
And there—my friends live.

They’re a little crazy. Not truly crazy, but wonderfully sensitive—the kind of people with whom you can share the best, most vivid moments. These friends are special. They are the first citizens of that garden: the homeland of all people with a sensitive nature.

And my friends feel at home there—because it is everyone’s home.

We all have our most beautiful garden.
It is the landscape of our emotional world—the place where our inner life blooms in full color.

Let’s invite each other into this splendor. And more than that, let’s make this invitation a central part of self-coaching. For to share our inner world is to live our freedom together.

That most beautiful garden, I believe, is simply home—for all of us. For some, it may feel close; for others, distant. Of course, not everyone experiences sensitivity in the same way.

For some, this inner garden is like a hidden pearl island, a secret treasure from which they draw quietly.
For others, it is a turbulent sea where sorrow and happiness chase each other like waves.

For me, it is a garden—the most beautiful one I know—where I can rest in the sunlight. But after resting, I see the weeds that have grown, and I begin to tend the soil again. It takes work to make the inner garden shine.

Still, no matter how I feel, nothing compares to this small slice of paradise. Even in moments of deep sadness — and yes, they always come with our sensitive nature — this garden brings me a profound happiness, a joy I long to share with the entire world.

<br> *The most beautiful garden is not found on any map. It lives in each of us — and grows when we enter one another’s hearts.*

There is an art of living in our most beautiful garden.

It can be beautiful — this garden, this world. It is a work of art.

Artists are beautiful people. They know how to let a tear and a smile meet in the same color, the same shape, the same moment. In the glow of a melody or the rhythm of a rhyme, they enchant the hearts of people with their sharp feelers and delicate insight.

Singers and painters fascinate me most. That is my nature — I can carry image and sound with me on my inner flights.
Yes, I too have a busy life. I take too little time to sink into a book of poetry. But the deeper reason lies in the fullness of emotion. The sensitivity of art can lift my heart so swiftly into intense inner experiences that I must approach it with sobriety and care.

“It is never too late for new hopes and old dreams.”

I think of that line from a song by one of my favorite childhood singers. I recently rediscovered it — and now, day after day, I find joy in those two fragments that make my heart beat faster:

“It is never too late for new hopes and old dreams…”
“…youth comes with age.”

How wise that is — to believe that youth can come with age.
How beautiful when we refuse to give up our youthful soul, letting it deepen with time into new dreams of emotion, goodness, beauty, and joy.

How wise when we still believe that the wishes once planted in our hearts as seeds can one day bloom again.

Wisdom, then, is not about growing old; it is about returning — returning to what is most beautiful in our inner life, to what makes us share ourselves with others.

Sharing is beautiful. It is the art of living — the art of dwelling together in each other’s most beautiful garden.
It is the art of new hopes and old dreams.
The art of seeing beyond.
The visionary gift that we all possess.

“To live is to create—and the most beautiful creation is the heart we share with one another.”

To let even one person become part of your emotional world—to invite them into your most beautiful garden, your inner home—gives strength. It fuels your self-coaching, your growth, and your freedom.

Our emotional world is too rich to keep to ourselves. Yet inviting another person into it—and experiencing that as liberating—does not come automatically. It requires patience, courage, and practice.

It requires self-coaching—until we have learned to live with this open, welcoming attitude to life.

It is a life’s work —
the work of art of our lives.