This is my very personal story - a path that has led me through ups and downs, through doubts and realizations, and finally to a deeper connection with nature and the people I care about. I tell it in the first person perspective to take you directly with me on this journey that has changed my life forever. I am Felix and this is my path.

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There are moments in life that change everything. For me, a passionate aircraft engineer, that moment came not in a workshop or a hangar, but deep in the forests of Canada, surrounded by the ancient traditions of the First Nations. But to fully tell this story, we must rewind - back to the beginning, to the first sparks of an idea growing inside me, to a path I never initially expected.

I grew up in a world that was deeply rooted in nature. My parents placed great importance on self-sufficiency, so they grew our vegetables in a larger garden in the neighboring village. We lived in an old part of town on a small mountain, and from an early age I was involved in working in the vegetable garden. The vegetables we grew ourselves were not just food, but an expression of our connection with the earth. I always enjoyed helping to plant, care for and harvest the fruits of our labor. For me, the greatest happiness was digging in the earth, observing the plants and seeing the fruits of my labor.

But it wasn't just the vegetable garden that shaped me. Some evenings before I went to bed, I looked after the cows in the stable, fed them and made sure they were well looked after for the night. These childhood experiences awakened in me the dream of one day being a farmer myself. The simplicity and rhythm of country life were not just a childhood memory for me, but a deep longing that was to accompany me throughout my life.

I had a particularly formative experience when I was seven years old, when I spent the entire summer holidays on a farm on the Sörgerberg in Austria. There I sometimes took sole responsibility for the cows, which gave me a lot of joy and gave me a deep feeling of connection with the animals. Franz and Sepp, the two farmers on the farm, were the best teachers I could have had as a child. Their uncomplicated way of living life and the fact that they treated me not like a small child but like one of them, made a lasting impression on me. But after the holidays I was bitterly disappointed: my parents took me back to school instead of leaving me on the farm, where I had felt so comfortable and fulfilled. I once jokingly told my mother that this was their biggest mistake - and probably a real challenge for all the teachers who tried to make me understand that it was better to sit still and learn than to look after a farm.

Going back to school was a hard blow for me. I was reluctant to go because I saw no point in learning something that seemed meaningless to the world or to myself. The strict structures and curriculum felt like a cage that imprisoned my creativity and my will to live. Instead of being encouraged, I often felt held back by the teachers and restricted in my development. For me, school was a place that left little room for the things that were really important to me: nature, practical work and a deep understanding of the world around me. This discrepancy between the natural freedom I had experienced on the farm and the rigid rules of school left me with a deep aversion to an education system that did not value my natural abilities and interests.

But life took a different turn at first. Although I grew up in an environment close to nature, after school I was drawn in a completely different direction. My school years were anything but straightforward: I started at grammar school, but due to my poor grades I was held back and eventually switched to secondary school. I graduated from there with an average secondary school certificate. Despite these academic challenges, I knew that I had to find my own way.

My passion for machines and technology led me to train as an aircraft mechanic in 2004. The competition was huge - 600 applicants for just 10 training places - but I was one of the lucky ones who made it. For me, this opportunity was proof that you can achieve a lot with your own motivation and a strong drive. During the training, I discovered my passion for technology and the precision that this profession requires, and I graduated with the best grade in Germany that year. This award was not only an honor, but also a confirmation of how important it is to find your own motivation for what you have learned.

After my training, I worked as an aircraft technician in a permanent position until 2012, where I maintained, dismantled, repaired and reassembled aircraft. This world of technology had its appeal - the precision, the demands for accuracy and the responsibility that came with it fascinated me. I enjoyed the challenges that the job brought and the opportunity to work in an environment that offered me a certain level of security. But deep inside me, a restlessness began to grow. While I worked in the cold, sterile environment of airports and hangars, I felt that something was missing. With each passing year, it became clearer to me that my true passion lay not in technology, but in nature, which I had loved so much during my childhood and youth.

In 2012, after almost a decade in aviation, the restlessness within me grew into a real inner conflict. I was repeatedly unexpectedly fired in my career, which threw me off track each time. After the second termination, I didn't know how to continue. To find clarity, I decided to walk the Camino de Santiago and walked 1,000 kilometers in the hope of finding answers to the question of what I really should do in life. But despite the long journey and the many thoughts I had along the way, unfortunately I still didn't find the final answer.

When I returned, I decided to complete my aircraft inspector exam and become self-employed as an aircraft inspector at the age of 25. This decision allowed me to continue my work in a completely new way. I worked in Singapore, throughout Europe, Canada and Africa as an aircraft inspector and enjoyed the freedom and challenges that this self-employment brought.

But deep inside, the restlessness began to grow. I found myself in a world that was increasingly alien to me: I was servicing and inspecting business jets owned by the richest people in the world, while I felt more and more connected to the ordinary people of the earth - the farmers, the artisans, those who form the backbone of society. This contradiction gnawed at me, and I began to ask myself how I could remain true to my inner values.

Back in 2006, in the middle of my professional career, I received a diagnosis that changed my life forever. The doctors told me that I had an incurable disease and that I had to accept it. They advised me to take the medication so that I could continue with the life I was living. They also explained that my health condition had nothing to do with my diet - which for me was completely the opposite of what I thought when I had inflammation in my intestines. But I knew in my heart that this was not the truth.

Because what they actually told me was: "We have no idea how to cure such a disease." The statements of the various doctors left a deep scar on me, but they were also the spark that ignited a ten-year long search for healing and health within me.

I refused to accept this prognosis. I began an intense journey of self-discovery, asking myself over and over again: what is true health and what does it take to achieve it? The symptoms I suffered were sometimes so severe that I almost died from them in Malta in 2010. This moment was another turning point for me - I realised that things could not go on like this.

For over a decade, I searched and experimented, researching different healing methods and learning how health is closely connected to living in harmony with nature. At the end of this journey, I had not only regained my health - without medication and without symptoms - but also a deeper insight into what it means to be truly healthy.

In late 2013, in the midst of my inner and outer search, another turning point occurred. I was invited to Peterborough, Canada, to complete one final assignment as an aircraft technician. But this assignment was not just a regular work assignment - I was to ferry a business jet from Peterborough to Lagos, Nigeria, as an onboard engineer and part of the crew to operate the aircraft down there. What started as a routine assignment soon turned into an adventure that took me deep into the forests of Canada.

In every place I visited, I felt most at home in the markets because that's where I met the people and the culture of the region. I loved and still love looking farmers in the eye, talking to them and thanking them for producing food. During one of these market visits in Canada, I met local farmers and was invited by a First Nations Canadian to take part in the production of maple syrup on his reserve. Without hesitation, I left the plane that I was supposed to be waiting for and followed the call of nature.

During my time with the First Nations, I was taken to ceremonies that took place in the midst of the breathtaking nature and in the hinterland of Ontario. They took me to the sacred stones, which contained engravings that were thousands of years old, and explained their meaning to me. It was a deep honour for me to sit in a circle with the elders of North and South America, the representatives of the respective tribes, sit around the fire and tell my stories. For the first time in my life, I felt really seen and heard by people. These people knew exactly what I was talking about when I said: "I don't understand what we are actually doing as a human being."

I spent weeks with members of the First Nations in the "Sugarbush," where maple sap was harvested and processed into syrup. For me, this time was more than just a change from routine; it was a revelation. I was deeply impressed by the spiritual connection that the First Nations had with nature, by the way they lived in harmony with the earth instead of working against it. I had only ever heard such stories in books. Now I was part of it and I realized: It was time to spread my wings and put down roots in this sacred ground.

I returned to Europe with a new sense of purpose and direction. My search for healing and a new path in life eventually led me to my homeland, the border triangle in the Black Forest. There I retreated to process the experiences and insights I had gained in Canada. But after my profound experiences with the First Nations, I could no longer bear the busy life of the people in Central Europe. It hurt me to see what a cold world we, my brothers and sisters, are living in there.

During this time, I remembered a formative experience I had in Greece in 2012. Back then, after I returned from the Way of St. James, when I was not feeling very well, I was invited to Greece for a few weeks. There I lived in the simplest of conditions and experienced a spontaneous healing without changing anything about myself. It was one of the most impressive experiences of my life. This memory was so strong that I knew: I had to go back to Greece to get back in touch with the simplicity and healing power of this country.

So I packed my bags and bought a one-way ticket to Greece. I spent the first few months on an idyllic island, enjoying the sun, the sea and the simple life. But the peace didn't last long. I, who was used to being active, soon felt the urge to do more than just spend my days in the sun. I wanted to understand where the delicious olive oil that I enjoyed every day came from. The islanders told me that if I really wanted to experience the essence of olive oil, I should travel to the Peloponnese.

In October 2014, I set off to the region famous for its olive oil. At first, I found myself with an expatriate family who produced olive oil on the land they had bought. But the experience was not fulfilling. It lacked authenticity, the connection with the people who had been practicing this art for centuries. I wanted more - I wanted to know the soul of Greek olive growing, with all its beautiful and terrible sides, all its joy and all its pain.

One day, while hitchhiking through the region, I met three locals who gave me a ride to their village. They invited me for a coffee and, although the language barrier was great, we got along. I explained to them that I had come to harvest olives, not for money, but to learn and experience. Impressed by my attitude, Vasilis, one of the men, invited me to come to Vasilitsi. There, he said, I could stay, eat and work as long as I wanted.

After the meeting in Vasilitsi, the three Greeks I had met while hitchhiking drove me back to the place where I had originally helped with the olive harvest, above Methoni. We agreed to meet again in 10 days, on a Friday at 7 a.m., at exactly the same place, as we had no way of talking on the phone or communicating in any other way.

Ten days later, after I had fulfilled my promise and finished the olive harvest with the emigrants, I set off for the meeting point. At 7 o'clock sharp, with my backpack on my shoulders, I stood at the agreed place above Methoni. It was a beautiful morning and the sunrise painted the sky in beautiful colors. At exactly 7 o'clock, as agreed, Vasilis came along the path and greeted me with a warm "Kalimera".

So I moved to Vasilitsi, a small, remote village. For the next three years I lived and worked side by side with the farmers. I learned how to care for olive trees, harvest the fruit and eventually produce the golden olive oil that the region is famous for. This experience was everything I was looking for: real encounters, hard work and the deep feeling of being part of something bigger.

But as I grew into the role of olive farmer, the villagers began to see something different in me. They recognized my talent for connecting, organizing and coordinating people. They spoke to my conscience and advised me not to be just an olive farmer. Instead, they asked me to use my skills to build a network that would help farmers get fair prices and improve their living conditions.

At that moment, I realized that my journey was far from over. It was as if all the years of searching, doubts and struggles had led me to this very point. I felt that this was my true purpose - not just to harvest olives, but to build bridges, strengthen communities and stand up for what I believed in and what I felt about this world.

The challenge I faced was great, but the call of my heart was stronger. I knew that I was not just fighting for myself, but for all the people I had met on this journey - the farmers, the artisans, the ordinary people who form the backbone of our world.

So I decided to continue on this path, no matter how rocky it would be. But this decision was not the end of my journey, but the beginning of a new phase. I began to create a network based on the principles of fairness, sustainability and direct collaboration. It was a task that demanded more of me than ever before, but also one that gave me the opportunity to realize the vision of a better, fairer world.

With every step I took forward, I knew I would stay true to this path, no matter what. And as I continued, a path formed before me that would not only impact my own journey, but the lives of all those who have the courage to stand up for their beliefs and passions and fight for a future where people reunite and are in harmony with nature.

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I hope that my personal journey, which I have shared with you here, inspires you and makes you think. It was and is a path full of challenges, but also full of wonderful encounters and valuable insights. I would be delighted to hear about your own experiences and stories that have shaped you on your life's path, that concern and challenge you.

Your feedback means a lot to me and I look forward to hearing from you.

You can contact me at my email address felix.schroeder@teikei.us write.