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Speaking from a Central European point of view—which might translate to other parts of the world—I grew up in peace and safety.
The cruelties and atrocities of war were “just” a few, rarely told stories by my grandparents, who experienced the Second World War as little kids.
In that sense, I haven’t gone through these horrors myself. Yet, they were still handed down to me—not only through stories, but through DNA, through unprocessed mechanisms and unconscious patterns that infused parenting and education.
Back then, therapy hadn’t arrived in the mainstream, nor was it developed enough to properly support people with (severe) trauma. Besides that, there were no resources: financially, time-wise, or energetically. The generation of my grandparents, once the war was over and they had become adults, simply worked and worked—and worked.
Some of my grandparents lost their homes. They had to flee and leave their beloved land behind, gathering only a few belongings and leaving overnight. They started over with nothing. The economy was destroyed, houses were bombed, food was scarce.
They were part of the rebuilding of an entire nation.
My parents’ lives started out in fairly humble conditions too: living in tiny spaces, eating simple meals, not yet thinking about overseas vacations or other pleasurable endeavors. My dad had the support of his parents to go to university, but my mom had to work and pay for it herself.
The first generation after the war was still heavily affected by the aftermath of that terrifying decade.
They were in transition, from surviving on the bare minimum to achieving a life that felt worth living—one with more comfort, leisure, and even some luxury: good food, good wine, new clothes, vacations outside of Austria, private schools, and a house (even if it meant taking out a huge loan).
They kept working, probably just as hard as they had learned from their parents, and managed to build a somewhat good life—in a materialistic sense. They made it possible for our generation, to grow up surrounded by material safety. We had good food, clean clothes, great education, and a beautiful home.
For us, it meant being born into a certain, already established wealth.
Maybe that’s why our generation sometimes has the reputation of being ungrateful or even lazy for wanting to work fewer hours.
But I am really witnessing a split here.
There are two sides: some who want to reduce their hours and actually enjoy their time, and some who continue working just as much as their caregivers, chasing more and more wealth, blinded by status and the promises of success.
It’s like we’re still carrying that survival stress in our bones.
But where do we want to go with this?
When is it enough?
How much do we need until we feel satisfied and saturated?
It seems to me that there is no limit.
Our parents left us with a huge hole.
What most of them weren’t able to give us was emotional safety, because they never had the chance to process the traumas they lived through themselves.
We are now stuck in an old pattern, inherited from a generation that had to deal with completely different life circumstances than we have.
Continuing as they did simply misses the obvious: that we finally have enough resources to address something they didn’t—our body, mind, and spirit.
Our emotional well-being.
We can already see the consequences of the lifestyle society has been living: psychosomatic symptoms, unresolved health mysteries, mental health struggles like anxiety and depression, autoimmune disorders, panic attacks, overconsumption of food and other resources, substance abuse, climate change, and soil deterioration.
It’s all evidence of doing and taking too much—and just “being” too little.
I deeply believe in dharma—a soul’s purpose—that’s given to us by the universe, if you will. A higher calling far beyond personal desires. It’s a duty we have to fulfill in our time on Earth, a way to give meaning to life. This concept stems from Hinduism and yogic philosophy.
While every person has their own dharma, I believe there is also a collective dharma.
Our grandparents and parents had their own generational dharmas to fulfill. Now, it is time for us to move on and embrace what is ours to make this world a better place and not stay stuck in cycles that have become harmful. Making space to slow down and actually finding moments of mindfulness and connection to Self could be a first step.
Resourcing ourselves with dedusting old hobbies that bring us joy or a quiet moment between all the hustle and bustle might be enough to then also look at more painful memories and experiences.
Because taking on and facing the demons within is not an easy task. It requires dedication, bravery, and enough spare time to feel resourced. It requires us to sit with the waves of emotions that come up. In that way, we make space to open the door for all the parts of us that yearn to be seen and felt for years, maybe decades.
Most of us, technically, have the financial resources to do that. And if someone doesn’t, perhaps it’s simply not the right time yet and that is okay too. Still, for those of us who do have access, it becomes even more important to use the support that is available to us, whether it’s low-cost offerings, community resources, or accessible guidance.
In doing this work, we can mend what we lacked growing up and offer the coming generations, no matter the status, a less broken, a little more healed world so that they can then move on to fulfill their own generational purpose—without having to carry the burden of our unfulfilled duty.
One simple act of presence is enough to interrupt an inherited pattern.
One moment of awareness is enough to change direction.
So tell me: what next step will you take to turn the future around?
Maybe your entry point is a nap, mindfully enjoying a cup of your favourite tea, or a journal entry jotting down your thoughts.
It might be engaging in a hobby that excites you or brings you peace.
Maybe it’s as simple as taking a quiet walk in the forest.
Or treating yourself to a therapy or coaching session.
Whatever it is—find what works for you. There are countless gentle practices to choose from. The world truly is your oyster and healing practices are a generous all-you-can-eat-buffet—so take what nourishes you.
~
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