Avri Gilad
The plan dropped, life returned
In an atmosphere of general soul-searching, my request for a time-out was granted by the universe
I have been working in the media for 42 years.
I have never taken time off, study leave, year abroad, unemployment.
Did not happen.
Move forward all the time without stopping for a second to ask if this direction is really my forward direction, or just to the side in good conditions.
Afraid to stop lest they replace me, lest it turns out that I am not needed at all.
That's why I didn't get to find out my true desire, if it really is to be a black worker in a white suit in the distraction industry, or maybe I have something else that I know how to do that will express me and benefit the world in a different way.
The truth is, I was afraid to face this question, am I good for anything other than sitting in studios?
And as time ticks by, and the age of 60 of general soul-searching is approaching, I feel more and more distressed.
I'm working on an automatic, I have to get off this train for a second and check at the station where it's going, maybe just doing circles.
Then I take the first step, accept the offer to switch to the program at seven in the evening and abandon the morning.
Hopefully the change in the program will also bring deeper insights.
And although I have to rest from all this, we immediately got involved in preparing the new program, "Medd Israel" the 14th, and again in the whirlwind of ratings, the pressure to succeed, life from program to program. And I loved this program so much, in my eyes one of my best, but there were those who thought I was wrong And they took her down after two months. And I got angry, and I spoke harshly, and then I stopped and said - hey, you asked for a break from everything, you got what you wanted, why are you resentful? After all, everyone who supposedly hurt my plan and indirectly also me, my image, my career - all those who made the decision are Messengers to the essence, to creation, to God, whatever you want to call it. I made a request, it was answered through messengers,
And I am angry at them for doing what they want.
How arrogant, how presumptuous towards the sublime.
Avri Gilad,
Then I breathed for the first time since I started working in 1980.
First thing I removed the router app from my phone.
Through her I consumed news all the time.
what a relief.
Then I stopped watching current affairs content altogether.
What a relief.
And to all the PR people who contact me about a variety of matters, I replied - sorry, I'm not in the media at the moment. What a joy. And then I started reading books, not just five minutes before bed - deep reading. And I discovered treasures, and I deepened my physical training, so that I don't reach the third year depleted, God forbid, And I gave a lot of time to the family, and my presence at home became self-evident. What a gift. Then one day I went to lunch with a friend, who told me about a new venture he was thinking of starting. And like the magical moment at the gambling machine, when three cherries line up next to each other and the machine emits all the screams of The unfortunates who played first and lost, that's how I felt when I heard what I wanted to do with my life. There was a win! I realized that there was something else I was capable of doing that would change the world for the better, no less. I informed my friend that from now on I was also a partner, and he agreed,
And since then I have been working on a project, the essence of which I will not be able to reveal lest an evil eye be opened from some direction, God forbid, but it is the furthest from communication there is.
Soon I will be able to tell you and make you happy too.
There is a selection of animals on the freedom farm in Mashel that were on their way to the slaughterhouse, and jumped off the truck.
It is accepted that the one who ran away, has a life instinct in him that entitles him to a better life than a parking lot of meat.
I visit the freedom farm a lot, and every time I hear these stories something in me vibrates.
Not that I'm like an animal on its way to the slaughterhouse, absolutely not, but jumping off the truck turns something on in me.
An ancient voice that says - jump.
That's why the photo I chose is with such a goat on the farm.
a source of inspiration.
So my year was my first sabbatical year in my life, and maybe I'll return to Surrey, and maybe I'll go to my new business, and maybe both, and it doesn't matter, at least I know that for once in my adult life I made a choice.
And this is a huge right because how many choices are we given in this life anyway.
So despite the difficult and depressing Israeli reality, I had a great year.
I also wish you a year of choice, and if possible, without more choices.
I am with a friend at the freedom farm.
Every visit something in me vibrates
Yair Nitzani
Hello, dear mom and dad
My parents passed away this year, and my eldest daughter got married.
And yes, there are also the video songs on TikTok
My year was the most complicated I've ever known.
Joy and sadness intertwined, doing and creating that managed to occasionally overcome the desire to lie down and stare at the ceiling.
Like any self-respecting year-end section, I've divided my year's highlights into categories and given them marks.
The saddest moment of the year: My parents, Miriam and Enzo, passed away this year one after the other, just a few months apart.
They lived good and full lives and I had the privilege of being among them for 64 years.
Even though our whole lives prepare us for the moment when we and our loved ones are gone, it is still strange to live in this world without them.
The happiest moment of the year: It was also mixed with sadness.
The day after my father's passing, our eldest daughter married the choice of her heart, Uri.
It was a special and intimate event that we held to allow the groom's father, who was also ill, to participate and be happy.
The children were beautiful and cute and we tried to be as happy as we could within the conditions.
Unfortunately, Uri's father passed away during the year, and we are happy that he was able to be there with us.
Wave of the year: At the beginning of the year it seemed that in addition to all the troubles, we are expected to enjoy another wave of Corona, a word that until recently was the hottest thing, and today sounds as current as Ebola or boils.
The last wave didn't really catch on, a bit like a band from the past (because it's already the fifth or sixth wave of the corona, you can define it as a new wave band) that was very hot once, but when it insists on becoming popular, it turns out that all it has to offer is recycling the same materials, And the audience prefers to remember the old hits and alcohol gels.
In the first waves there was fear, there were closures, traffic jams at the testing centers, police checkpoints.
In the last wave we had to be reminded who the projector is, what Zarka is and why everyone is throwing at him - and it's a good thing.
The creative slang of the year: "Morning Tsih and Tseh, noon Shacht, evening Krahan" by Nuno and the song "Living the Dream" takes the honorable title by and large, and has become familiar to old people who think that she plays chess at noon and that Karahan is someone without hair on his head.
Although I haven't been to India and I don't think the Beatles are overrated, I of course agree with the lines: "Yair, you don't need to explain how to make good coffee, you don't need to make it clear that you were at the best place in India and now it's closed and you can't come Already there, and only you made it!!!"
Yair Nitzani,
This year's trend: This year was characterized by a strong presence of Tiktok videos in our lives.
Not a life-changing thing, unless you're the guy on the skateboard from the cranberry juice video who turned it into an NFT token (the format that won the title: the concept-that-everyone-says-even-though-nobody-understands-what-it-is this year) and sold it for half a million dollars.
The song that accompanies the video is an old song by Fleetwood Mac, part of an interesting phenomenon of repeating old songs to the ears of teenagers who have never heard them before.
I love the moments when my 18-year-old daughter suspiciously asks me if I've ever heard of a singer named Billy Joel who has a cool song on TikTok, and plays me Moving Out, which I loved when I was just her age.
Presumably, for the girl, this moment of discovery is a bit embarrassing, because with all her love for the song, the fact that I also know the song means that maybe the song is not that cool.
The girl also had a crush on Kate Bush 40 years after me, which is lovely.
It must have been pleasant for Kate Bush too, because the royalties for the song earned her over two million dollars this round.
I'm on stage.
Overcome the urge to lie down and stare at the ceiling
Mishna Mishna Mishna Malkov will be interested to read: What kind of "cup" did she receive in the sergeant's work during her internship? What did Ben Zini say to her in the difficult farewell conversation, and why did she send him a warning letter? How did she feel when she contracted the corona virus with her new partner, the singer Liran Danino, who is older than her by 11 years? Why did she decide to get closer to religion because of him? And when she arrives, how strange will it be for them to watch her kissing her ex in "Zoag"
Paula Rosenberg
The relaxing moment
I didn't need a cap of proportions, yet I got two
This year only troubles that you can say "these will be our troubles", okay?
It was a stormy part of the year in which I deepened, in practice, the inner understanding of the well-worn but painfully true expression: "health is the main thing".
And I'm not one of those who need a reminder, even so I'm hyperaware of the dangers lurking around every corner, and the fragility of our existence in this world.
Some people say to themselves in moments of crisis, "Nothing happens for nothing, we probably should have gone into proportions."
but I?
I wake up in the morning to proportions, with a daily feeling that it is a miracle that we even got out of bed.
If a plate is broken, Leon gets upset that it has to be cleaned.
I, on the other hand, will run hysterically to check that everyone is okay, that no one is hurt, and that the broken glass still scattered on the floor pokes at my mind.
People sometimes interpret me as a very happy and positive type.
It is not unreasonable, but my optimism and positivity do not come from feeling that the world is a good and pleasant place, but exactly the opposite, from the knowledge that the world is full of sadness, injustice and uncertainty.
If my whole family sits in a restaurant and eats delicious food that we chose and we have enough money to pay for it - that, for me, is a great thing.
How can you not jump for joy?
After all, we are part of a human minority who can afford such an experience.
Our family was hit by two health crises this year, one related to our young daughter and the other to me.
In both cases, a finding was discovered that could change our lives from end to end, and fortunately - in both cases, the end result was very reassuring.
But until we reached the calming moment, we experienced nerve-wracking months of waiting and dealing with horrific possibilities that I wouldn't wish on my haters.
There is no doubt that these horrific weeks provided me with a glimpse into the hell of fear and uncertainty that is the lot of quite a few people.
I don't feel like I needed a cap of proportions to understand how important it is to appreciate what is there, but I got it anyway.
I remember a particularly terrifying moment during the crisis period.
A moment when we were sitting outside the waiting room of a great and important professor, and we were waiting for his expression to know if our daughter would require a complex surgery abroad.
I sat on the chair in the long corridor of the hospital and I felt that I was holding my body so that I wouldn't physically fall towards the floor, as if I was there and not there at the same time, as if a missing hand was ripping my flesh from the inside and hurting me non-stop, and despite all this, I continued to function, between Whether it is a conversation with the secretary or checking messages.
Life went on, although it also stopped.
One of the messages was from the family doctor, he reminded me that I had consulted him about something a few weeks ago and that it was possible to make an appointment.
I remember looking at the message and envying the same worried woman I was then, not so long ago.
I answered him: I wish this little thing would bother me again someday, so I'll get to your clinic in leaps and bounds.
I don't know how to convey to you the experience of relief that accompanied the test results, after long and nightmarish weeks.
One of the great writers we had, the poet Yehuda Amichai, described it precisely in his poem "The precision of pain and the blurring of happiness", in which he showed how we usually express pain with many, distinct and precise words, while we express happiness with few and limited words.
The moment when we were informed that our daughter would not have to undergo a complex operation is the happiest moment of my life, and I really have no words to describe this happiness.
I can write scrolls about the period leading up to this moment.
I didn't need a cape of proportions, yet I got it in a big way.
So this year I will wish to myself that I will not have relaxing moments, only troubles about which you can say "that only these will be our troubles".
I'm with Leon and the girls.
A glimpse into the hell of fear and uncertainty
Almost five years separate me from my older sister, Lilac.
My mother says that on the first day she came home from the hospital with me, she announced: "I'm taking care of him and no one comes near him."
In the days after that, she brought some friends from kindergarten and lined them up outside the house.
Two by two she let them in to meet the brother she had been waiting for so much.
When I celebrated half a year in the world, she decided to change my name and informed my parents that from now on I would be called Eran.
At first they were not moved by the whim of the stubborn 5-year-old girl, and tried to explain that "David", the first name given to me, was named after my grandfather.
When he insisted, they offered a compromise: "Yom Eran, Yom David", and the end is already known.
Growing up we went to school together.
I was a thin, short and full of worries child entering the first grade, and she is full of confidence and presence, racing without hesitation to the sixth grade.
"If you need anything, I'm in the building across the street," she told me.
On the way back she walked behind me and made sure I didn't get stuck in the trees on the way, as happened about once a week.
As befits such close siblings, there were also fights.
I will never forget that time I pulled her hair and ran to my mother crying to inform her of my uncharacteristic act.
That cry was dwarfed by the cry that came out of me after she whistled to my dad about the binders full of posters I had secretly made, of the stars of the series "Beverly Hills 90210".
At her wedding I walked around with the feeling that I was no less important than the groom.
When her eldest son was born, I paid back the debt and chose his name.
Harel.
It's no coincidence that she's also the first one I officially came out to her.
Over the years we have grown to be independent, loving and close brothers.
The most similar, and at the same time the most different.
In each of our conversations there were also things that were just between us, "don't tell anyone, not even mom."
Obviously, the first thing we would both do is call and tell mom and "if Lilac asks, then we didn't talk."
But life is more dynamic than any love, and just when everything feels good, suddenly the bad comes.
A decade has passed since my sister was diagnosed with oncology.
For five years they hid it from me for fear that I would not be able to bear the good news.
Only when it seemed that everything was behind her, they decided to share with me.
For years we have been on a particularly steep roller coaster.
For every optimistic thought, two pessimistic ones emerge, and the anxieties always choose to appear when everyone is sleeping.
In the background - the unrelenting frustration, how can I not help someone who has helped me all my life, and why exactly her and not me?
When I was asked to summarize this year, all thoughts were thrown away for one moment on a trip to Georgia.
Her email received another test result.
From the moment of opening, every moment is an eternity, and the Internet in the mountains of Georgia makes every minute feel like a flight to New York with a seven-hour layover in Turkey.
The pancreatic tumor, one of the most dangerous, is gone.
Her screams could be heard all the way to my parents' house in Bat Yam.
"It's like permission to live," she explained.
And I just keep myself from crying.
Since then, every morning opens with a message, conversation, or conference call.
Abroad and in the evenings, we switch to video calls, with my jokes that only she understands, and rolling and contagious laughter that is only hers.
Every Friday she brings mom's couscous and the laundry, and my job is to buy a present before an important inspection.
We already have a joke: "Each pair of shoes/glasses/pants (according to her wishes) throws another metastasis".
This is the first time in my life that jokes cost me a lot of money, but the gift I got this year, my sister, is worth more than anything else.
Eran Soysa
Permission to continue living
How can I not help someone who has helped me all my life, and why exactly her and not me?
A few days ago I heard one of my friends say on the phone to another friend: "You are my cool friend".
I was so surprised, I almost spilled the tea on the puzzle.
I thought maybe I hadn't heard right, but then she said it to her again, and I realized she probably meant it.
Two minutes ago we were having a lively conversation about types of ceiling fans, so maybe this shouldn't knock me off my chair.
And yet, for 42 years I have lived knowing that at least in some circles I am considered very cool.
In fact, one of the few advantages of a career in music is that you are automatically considered "cool".
Either way, I'm not sure when it happened, but it turns out I went from being cool to my dad.
And it's not that the writing wasn't on the wall or the fans weren't on the ceiling: if until a few years ago I was bothered by fateful questions like "Who is this band that everyone is talking about?" or "How does my ass look in these pants?" This year we moved to a new apartment and all What interests me is the warehouse: what went into the warehouse, what came out of the warehouse, is the warehouse locked, is everything in place in the warehouse?
Outside the cost of living, the climate crisis and the population explosion, the spouse in crisis, the baby painted on the wall, the girl cries that she doesn't want to brush her teeth.
And if anyone needs me, I'm in the warehouse.
My psychologist will say it's my need for control again, and I'll tell her "Naomi (pseudonym), for the first time in my life, I can finally arrange all the work tools in the drawers, and if I make metal shelves on the whole wall, it costs money, including transportation , NIS 1,600.
It's not money!'
Unlike my life, the warehouse is always waiting as I left it: faithful, organized and fulfilling its role in silence.
Like my life, it has pigeon poop in it.
There is also pigeon poop on the balcony, but I bought garden furniture, because that's what my dad used to do* and after I put the kids in the frames, I can sit with a glass of soda and be quiet.
I have already told in this column about my grandfather, the genius from Netanya, who was silent more or less continuously from the age of 30 until the day he died.
That's how he got the title "genius", because it was impossible to prove otherwise.
He would probably be condescending and say that he just had nothing to say.
Not that it matters to most people.
For the little one it sure doesn't matter.
On Saturday morning in the car I offered her one hundred shekels if she did not contact me by the end of the trip.
And this is just another proof that I finally became my father, the son of the genius from Netanya, the one who invented the game "you mustn't take your hands off the windshield" so that we don't get hit in the car.
Anyway, the girl lasted 45 seconds and then went back to talking straight.
She's actually standing next to me now and talking.
I used to dress cool.
Today I have two dresses for performances, and the rest of the time I just wear some fabric.
And I would be happy to buy clothes, if it didn't involve leaving the house, measuring clothes or spending money.
Just like my dad, when I'm not sitting on the balcony in my underwear, I walk around the house in my underwear and turn off lights and air conditioners.
Because what am I, Rothschild?
We pay so much rent, that if they offer me to leave the house, I think to myself "why waste?".
This house alone costs us almost NIS 13 per hour, isn't it a shame?
And apparently this is the way of the world: children are born cool, then they try to stay cool by buying pants, and slowly they realize that they will either be cool or have a tidy warehouse, and choose the second option.
You are welcome to stop asking if I was at a Nick Cave concert (I wasn't. NIS 13 an hour tells you), if I ate at the new restaurant in question (I didn't. Do you think I have patience for something called a "pizzanonit"?) or where the shirt came from (my dad got her in the Jezreel Valley bicycle race and was right when he said "Why throw away, it's good").
Next year, friends, I will sit on the porch and chase away migratory birds that won't poop on my railing.
Happy New Year.
*My father would not buy garden furniture, but build it from planks that were once my brother's and my bunk bed, and nails from the War of Liberation, but I am not the original model, but only a pale imitation.
Aya Korem
Have I lost my cool?
I have officially become a pale copy of my father.
And all I want is to drink a soda, and shut up
Personally, I only have bad things to say about the corona virus, and yet, as a result of an illusion, at least two happy things have developed.
One was a family trip in a trailer.
After the most stuck period we have known, there was an urgent need to get out of the zoom and travel in the open air.
We have all been after countless isolations and what does it matter where we travel.
But every attempt to find a destination, in Israel or abroad, immediately raised the fear of last-minute cancellations. Remember a year ago? We were full of cancellations. The thought of another one was unbearable.
Thus, on the path of negation, we came up with the idea of the snail-deer to go on vacation with a house on the back.
Or rather, trailing behind.
No one will cancel that for us.
We rented a tiny room on wheels.
A nano-kitchen and a tiny shower inside a bathroom.
In terms of internal square footage - the trailer met all the definitions of severe distress.
But on the scale of happiness this was probably the most wonderful vacation we have ever taken.
We woke up to amazing desert sunrises.
We had visits from foxes and goats, as well as nice hikers for two.
Since then, every time we see a trailer, parked or moving, something in us melts and is already planning the next time.
Even on the professional level, something new was born in the days of the epidemic.
I found myself building a show about the 1970s, and it was exciting and laugh-out-loud at the same time.
The producer Tzafir Kom hurried to meet me with the singer Iran Tsanhani, and after a few rehearsals we found ourselves performing in front of surprised audiences.
Before every show of "Bol Bupony" I go back through the time tunnel.
Hammering a metal stopper into the soap, hoping to attach it to the magnet that was above the sink.
Delights in words like: Khantrish.
spikes
tar
or Perigort.
Telling the children about the triple ventilation window we had in the car.
And most importantly: at the beginning we were advised to make adjustments.
When we performed in the Yavneh group, they offered to give up Nissim Sarousi.
When we arrived at a secular settlement they offered to take down the segment about the Hasidic singer festival, and on the way to Samaria they warned us not to mention "Hotel California".
In the end we decided not to download anything.
And we were right.
Everyone was happy to join in with their voices to the broad soundtrack of the most open, Israeli and designer days we had here.
I am with the family and the trailer.
We were visited by foxes and goats
Jackie Levy
Because they won't cancel it for us
I discovered with my family the trip in a trailer, and the magic of the 70s
The task of summing up the past year becomes easy and pleasant when it is done while browsing the photo album.
So thank you, friends, for asking me to participate in this nice project, and here is my picture: I am receiving a transfusion in the hematology day hospitalization department in Shaare Tzedek.
May.
Thank you, Hello.
I live and function, create and perform and eat non-stop, but all under the shadow of a damned muscle disease that makes almost every movement difficult for me, and makes me clumsy and much older than my age.
If you follow me on these pages and on the web, you may have been exposed to the messed up story that gave rise to this matter.
If not, I'll cut it short: a pill I took for the purpose of preventive treatment for a cholesterol problem turned out not to be suitable for me, and due to being discovered too late, a lot of damage was caused to some of my muscles, in the form of an autoimmune disease that damages the muscle and threatens to eliminate it.
I am treated and monitored, but the long-term treatment I underwent was only partially beneficial and therefore I am about to undergo another round of transfusions.
Hope he succeeds.
And in the process of this struggle I discover things.
For example, the famous statistic that everything gets used.
I catch myself sometimes casually and distractedly referring to the very strange way in which I wear my pants (the truth is that it's also funny) and I'm shocked.
Not because of the fact, but because I got used to it.
Most of the time I'm fine, mentally, and also physically, this disease is limiting but it causes almost no pain, so by and large I'm fine, but it's there, it's there.
She is always there.
And through it I discover that it doesn't exactly matter what I went through this year and how many political texts I wrote and who I appeared in front of and what family experiences I had.
In the end, this private body, this chubby thigh that I'm touching right now, is the main thing.
So yes, more than a thousand new photos (remaining out of ten thousand) have accumulated in the busy album.
There is a new grandson and a granddaughter who grew up and celebrated a year, and a spectacular show that is still running these days, and the magical views of the Greek islands and a beautiful conference in Munich, and what a hundred dishes on perfect plates, and a new and successful school that we founded almost with our own hands, and loving celebrations of a 50th birthday and one small campaign in which I participated And a lot of work routine, which in my case I was privileged to be interesting and creative.
Still, the first place is taken by a somewhat ponderous picture, neither described nor magnified, of a man sitting on a green armchair (very comfortable, it should be noted) and trying to smile so that they don't see his disgust at having to hang from the bottle hanging here above him, and in the end it also turns out Not sure if it is effective.
So here, I unpacked it here.
What to do when a person is close to himself.
Because in the end, in the inner personal consciousness, this was the year that was, and who will grant that this and its diseases will end and this will begin and its medicines, for me and for everyone who needs this service.
And when you pray on Rosh Hashanah for cures and salvations - throw a word also about Jacob ben Yona, who will return to the field with all his strength.
Kobi Arieli
first person
Muscle disease won't stop me
The corona effect did not escape me either and I was forced to make decisions.
What to do?
Where do I want to live?
What are my values?
(Carbohydrates is not a value, it turns out).
And seriously, all the questions in the daily race were pushed aside, because there is always a deadline, childhood, classes, a doctor's appointment, a super and jade, parent meetings, friendships, fitness training and what episode or season to binge on Netflix, popped up out of nowhere.
decisions.
Elections.
השאלות הכי חשובות הן אלו שאנחנו לרוב מדלגים עליהן. אני, לפחות, דילגתי. במסלול שנקרא "החיים" מיהרתי לסמן וי על מה שצריך. צריך ללמוד, צריך תואר, צריך עבודה, צריך להתחתן, צריך עוד תואר, צריך ילדים (זה גם כיף סך הכל, ואני ממליצה), צריך להספיק. אבל בין לבין, משהו הלך לאיבוד. אתגרים, התרגשות, עניין מחודש, הנעה (וגם הנאה), כל אלו דברים שהלכו והתרחקו ממני. לא שכל יום היה דומה לקודמו, בעבודה עיתונאית כל יום הוא בדיוק ש ו נ ה מקודמו, אבל משהו היה מוכרח להשתנות גם במסלול שלי. משהו כבר לא עבד כמו שצריך.
אז בחרתי. בחרתי לחזור ללמד. תעודת ההוראה שלי, שלא עשיתי בה שימוש, קרצה לי מהמדף. דווקא בשעה שמערכת החינוך קורסת, החלטתי להיכנס פנימה. אני חלק מארגון המורים, חתומה על 12 שעות פרונטליות בשבוע, נחושה להגיע ללב של התלמידות והתלמידים שלי, ולעורר בהם מחשבה. שואלים אותי למה בחרתי להתחיל דווקא עכשיו, והתשובה היא בגלל התלמידים. בואו, זו לא המשכורת ולא התנאים (גם לא החדשים. אגב, טרם הגיעו לחדר המורות מכונות האספרסו שהזמנו). בינתיים, המפגשים הראשונים עם התלמידים שלי השאירו לי טעם של עוד. מקווה שגם להם.
בחירה נוספת ערכתי עם בן זוגי. בחרנו להפריד כוחות, והמשפחה שלנו גרה בשנה האחרונה בשני בתים. לילדות שלי יש חדר בכל בית וזוג הורים שמדברים זה עם זה כל יום, אבל לא חיים יותר תחת קורת גג אחת. בשורה התחתונה, אחרי פחות מחצי שנה בסטטוס "גרושה", יש לי יותר זמן פנוי לעבודה וליצירה, ועכשיו יש גם יותר צחוק בחיי (אין לראות בפסקה זו המלצה להתגרש, טל"ח).
New beginnings are really everything they say they are: exciting, scary, shocking.
It's intriguing, strange, sometimes stressful, and requires me to open my head and heart in new directions.
If you are also in this place, of complex changes, at work, I recommend you just enjoy the journey.
We don't know where we will end up, let's enjoy the march into the unknown.
were we wrong
We will fix it!
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