Chapter 1
How it all began
My greatest teacher was my grandfather. “This country is lost. Don't you even think about staying here!” he drilled into me. His words are probably written into my DNA. And at the same time, a reproachful little voice pipes up: “And what about Grandma? And Mum? They looked after you with so much love…”
And it's right. My childhood was beautiful and safe. I felt cared for, and that feeling has stayed with me to this day. The ability to care for others is an essential part of who I am.
I was born in the former Czechoslovakia, at the height of communism. Freedom? Ha. Back then it was something to smirk at. At twelve, I stood on Wenceslas Square in Prague, beneath the statue of St Wenceslas on his horse, jingling a bunch of keys with the crowd during the Velvet Revolution. That was a powerful moment for me.
Chapter 2
Where things started to crack
Cut. I'm nineteen, sitting in a yellow cab, seeing the lights of New York for the first time. My breath caught. For the first time, I was truly aware of it.
And for the first time, I was completely alone. All I had was a phone card with thirty dollars on it and an au pair life that was far less glamorous than I'd expected. Being thrown in at the deep end taught me independence and resilience.
Over the following years I took on all kinds of roles. From assistant to real estate agent. I studied. So much energy, so much drive. But one question kept gnawing at me: Who am I, really?
Chapter 3
This part matters
Childhood dreams. Do you remember yours? I wanted to help children. I could picture it so clearly. All in white, almost like an angel, walking down a hospital corridor, handing out smiles that ease pain and heal.
Luckily, my mum snapped me out of my daydream: “But could you bear to watch children suffer?” I couldn't. So I studied preschool education instead. And in the end, the circle closed anyway. Today I help people – little ones and grown-ups. In my own way. By my own rules, not by systems I don't resonate with.
Chapter 4
When my breath spoke up
Sometimes we need someone to wake us up – gently, but firmly. “You don't know how to breathe, Petra,” the acupuncturist told me flatly as she put needles into my aching back after I'd given birth. What? I'm alive. So I must be breathing. Or… is there a better way? That's where the first seed was planted: How on earth does breathing actually work?
Chapter 5
My first breathwork
Looking back, it all makes sense. What used to be invisible is suddenly clear. Fascinating. Why nature is part of me. Its elements. Because I loved the campfires in Grandpa's garden. Animals of every kind. Always coming back to my roots.
And in the end, I found a home in Switzerland. By a lake. My first experience of breathwork? A slightly odd guy. Tall, thin, bald, but with a long beard and a strange energy. He told me to lie down. And breathe. The room was completely silent. He just sat next to me. It was really strange. A bit boring. I admit I wanted it to be over. And yet… it must have given me something. Something good. Because I kept going back to him. For two years.
Chapter 6
Where something broke in me
Cut. I'm lying on the floor, crying. I simply can't go on. My marriage was destroying me. I was more of an executive assistant than a partner. And that's exactly how I was treated. Until there was nowhere left to retreat. Still, I feel no bitterness or resentment. Just calm.
Even a little gratitude. That relationship helped me close and heal things the other person had no idea about. I was searching for my place. Women's circles, shamanic practices, kinesiology. Breathwork. I couldn't see it then, but breath had been with me the whole time. Like a barely visible golden thread. Breath didn't come to me as a career choice. It came as a lifeline.
“Breath didn't come to me as a career choice. It came as a lifeline.”
Chapter 7
When I understood that breath was my path
Covid. A time that affected every one of us. I wanted only one thing – to go to Guatemala. So I reached out to a woman from England who organised trips like that. But because of the restrictions, she was stuck in Bali, where she was teaching breathwork classes online. So I joined. And then again and again.
The turning point came during a breathwork session in my beloved Zurich. A powerful, almost… orgasmic experience. And suddenly everything was clear. Two weeks later, I started training in Conscious Connected Breath with Alchemy of Breath. 400 hours of training, ending with a final exam in Tuscany. Deep work. A deep experience.
