THE TRANSFORMATION – How Feathers, Bricks, and Trucks Guide Your Path

 On January 1, 1993, I started at LCM, convinced it would be my workplace for life.

Loyalty is in my nature, and at CM, I had found the ideal employer. My job as an auditor perfectly matched my studies and offered the variety I craved—I traveled across half the country and met countless fascinating people. Colleagues from all corners of the national headquarters, as well as employees of regional health insurance funds where I conducted audits.

When my supervisor +2 started, every auditor had the chance to introduce themselves. I seized the moment to share the optimizations I saw from my field experience. What began as an open conversation unexpectedly led to a promotion. I became responsible for my own colleagues. I was stunned—there wasn’t even a vacancy, yet this opportunity was given to me. My only request? To continue working 4/5, I didn’t even ask for a raise, but I received both. Thank you!
I was bursting with energy and had a clear vision: the department had to run like a well-oiled machine where everyone could shine. My French-speaking supervisor ensured a smooth flow of assignments, and I made sure the results flowed back just as efficiently. I had a natural instinct for bringing people together, recognizing their strengths, and assigning them to the right projects.

A Wall in My Path

After a few years, my supervisor left. When his position opened up, I was convinced I was the perfect candidate. The job description read like a list of my qualities, but then I saw that one detail… “French-speaking.” I thought, I can fix that.

At the same time, in early 2008, my husband embarked on a new adventure: his own business in solar panels. His dream was coming true, and he gave it his all. His efforts paid off—projects piled up, and it became increasingly clear that he needed support, especially with administration.

While he struggled with the overwhelming workload, I struggled with my future. I spoke with management, but nothing concrete came out of it. No plan, no perspective for me. The vacancy went online—and I couldn’t even apply.
I kept struggling, frustration grew. My intuition—one I didn’t trust as much back then—whispered that this was no longer my path. But I didn’t understand it yet.

The Hard Wake-Up Call

Meanwhile, the pressure on my husband intensified. He worked day and night, and I saw him sinking deeper into exhaustion. Until that one evening.
He came home, deathly pale. "I fell asleep at the wheel," he confessed. Three exits before ours, he had to pull over, fighting against sleep, desperately seeking energy (quick sugars). But it was no use. On the very last stretch, just before our exit, fatigue struck mercilessly. The car scraped along the guardrail for meters. He woke up just in time. It could have been fatal.

That’s when something inside me broke. This could have ended in disaster. Was this the wake-up call I had been avoiding all along?

Until then, I had never heard of Feathers, Bricks, and Trucks—the signals life gives us in different intensities:

• Feathers are gentle nudges—subtle signs pointing you in a direction.
• Bricks are obstacles—signals you can no longer ignore.
• Trucks are the hard blows—when the universe forces you to wake up.
I had ignored the feathers and bricks, but the truck was undeniable. This was the turning point.

The Leap into the Unknown

On 8/8/8—a symbolically perfect date—someone asked me a question that suddenly made everything fall into place. In a split second, I knew the answer. My future was no longer at CM.
That same evening, on the dance floor, I told my husband. He looked at me, unsure if I was just caught up in the excitement. But I had never been clearer. On 10/8/8, I approached management, and by 1/10/8, I was working at Solled.

Honestly? I had always loved working at CM. This was never the plan. I had never considered leaping from employee to entrepreneur. I didn’t even know the seed had been planted within me. But when the moment came, it instinctively felt right. The future was uncertain, unclear—but for the first time, I was no longer tormented by doubt.

From that moment, I moved into a different energy field. The human interactions I thrived on were still part of my work—now in the business world. Behind the scenes, with unseen care, I built something new. The transformation was complete.

Everyone encounters crossroads in life. The choices I had to make, I now recognize in the historical figures of my book: struggling, letting go, and trusting the unknown...