Let’s turn the dice!

October 2013, Monday morning on a Swiss motorway. I had terrible heartache and was infinitely sad. Actually I was on my way to school. But I wanted to be alone so I could think about my life and cry in peace.

So I just kept going straight ahead and ended up at the old port of Marseille.

I sat down on the ground at the edge of the harbour, looked at the many boats and watched the people. A young Frenchman sat next to me. He started telling me the stories of his life and I told him that I was sad and sitting here to think. Then he reached into his pocket and took out 3 dice. He gave them to me and said:

“You know, life is like a game of dice. Sometimes you roll high, sometimes you roll low. Keep them and always have them with you, they will bring you luck.”

With the three dice in my pocket and a heartwarming story in my luggage, I drove home again.

It was incredible. I had thrown dice low and a stranger who had run along was able to cheer me up with a simple gesture, a little attention among fellow humans.

From then on I decided to experience stories in my life. I broke out of everyday life as often as possible in order to let the unpredictable write my stories. After my studies, I walked a few months alone through Italy on foot. Life seemed to have the stories ready on every corner and all you had to do was pick them like strawberries.

If my dice were high, I had time to listen to the stories of strangers. I noticed that a little attention, a smile, a short conversation or a compliment could save a person’s day from nothing. So I went on a rescue mission.

If my dice were low, strangers from out of nowhere started my rescue mission. I was invited to dinner, I was listened to, small gifts were given, sleeping places and car rides were offered. Every day I had a human angel who was able to save my day.

I walked the world and just treated everyone as if the strangers around me were my family. The love I experienced every day was incredibly enriching.

When I returned to Switzerland, I didn’t know what to do next. I asked a bartender in a bar where I should go and he answered:

“Go to the city of many colours, that’s where I spent the most beautiful time of my life.”

So I moved to the city of many colours to test myself there professionally and personally against reality. However, I wanted to give something back to people not only on a professional level, but also on a human level. So I packed my wishes into a philosophy:

“We are all human beings. No matter where we come from, how we look or what we believe in, what we do and represent in our lives.

For me being human means dancing with the wind and singing for the moon, swimming in a sea of emotions, experiencing moments of perfection and clarity, losing oneself to rediscover oneself. To be human means to cry, to laugh, to love, to think independently, to question and to express one’s personal truth.

To be human means to allow oneself to be oneself. What does being human mean to you?

It takes courage to be human. Because to be human means to be colorful in a sea of gray, to be different from all others, unique, an original instead of a copy.

For me, healing means discovering this originality in ourselves and in our fellow human beings. To accept and live being human with all its facets and to share our thoughts, feelings and stories in order to grow together. I hope that more and more people will have the courage to show their colours, to stand up in love and respect for humanity, for our own good and for the good of our family, humanity”.

Within the framework of this philosophy, I made a decision. I would share my stories with people. The story of the dice should be the first.

The next day I strolled through the old town and came across this place:

There they lay, huge in front of me, the three dice, hidden in a churchyard, in the middle of the old town. It was like a sign, huge, in front of my feet. You may smile now, but I think signs are great as long as they motivate you to do something beautiful that you wouldn’t do otherwise.

So I thought for a long time about what I really learned from the story of the dice. Because it is sweet to get dice as a present, or to put them on a churchyard, but actually they represent pure chance. The dice have been thrown, the course of events is inevitable.

Then it fell like scales from my eyes. Dice can be turned! They do not simply lie there because someone let them fall and nobody possesses the power to change this. We all encounter so many “dice” every day, and it would be easy to give a few a nudge. But we don’t do it because we focus on other, seemingly more important things and don’t see the obvious.
So I started to write the story down and so I searched in vain for the dice in my memory box. But what I found was a small black folding knife with the engraving Douk-Douk.

I received it from the young Frenchman who had given me the dice four years ago. He told me that it was dangerous for a young lady to roam the streets all by herself and that I should carry the knife with me in my trouser pocket so that I could protect myself.

When I came home, I began to carry the dice with me at all times to remember the story of Marseille. But the knife ended up in my memory box and fell into oblivion.

So the young Frenchman had given me two presents. He gave me the dice and the knife. I had probably chosen the dice because he said they would bring me luck and I thought luck was better than stabbing someone in the leg. On all my journeys I consciously did not carry any weapons with me and mostly trusted in the philosophy of the dice and I was allowed to experience incredible moments of love and humanity. What would have happened if I had put the knife in my pocket four years ago and put the dice in my memory box and forgotten them there?

People always tell you stories that make love grow in your heart and stories that make you anxious.

There’s nothing wrong with being afraid or careful, that’s even good. But I believe that only love can create and that if we want peace it is sometimes better to trust dice than knives.

I would like to make a suggestion. I am aware that I am a single small person on this great earth. I have experienced many stories and I experience new ones every day, but I cannot turn big, heavy dice alone. I would like to invite you to share your stories with me. Stories of people who were able to turn your dice out of nowhere, stories that let love grow in your hearts, stories of everyday humanity. My dream is to make love bombs “rain” over the world in the form of shared stories. Because only love possesses the power for peace.