The art of balance on an island that never sleeps

This Sunday morning is quiet. Not because nothing is happening, but because I don’t have to do anything.

Bo and I took a slow walk around the house. He got too wild on the rough asphalt this week; his paws are overworked, so we kept it short. And yet, it felt big. Because in that silence, I could finally hear myself again.

Ibiza is alive. The summer season has begun. New neighbors, friends who drop by and end up staying, and fellow DJs who happen to be on the island. Meanwhile, our rooftop solarium has been empty for two weeks now. It is brand-new construction, but the coating needs to be redone. So we wait for workers who may or may not show up. Half promises. Half communication.

And then yesterday, a real estate agent showed up at our gate, with Dutch clients in tow, looking to buy a place in the building. You could see the stress from a distance. Three months into his new role, he was visibly under pressure, with tension in his posture and speed in his words.

Later that evening, pushy messages came asking for advice on how to sell to his clients, and I felt it happen: I started to take them on. Not completely, but just enough. My breathing got shallow, and my system went into overdrive.

That’s the moment you need to choose. I set a boundary. Clear. Empathetic.

That’s where nonviolent communication (NVC) becomes powerful. Instead of saying, “You’re bringing stress into my space,” I now say, “I notice I’m feeling restless with all the intensity. What I need right now is calm and space in my home.” The difference is ownership. Speaking from feeling and need, without blame.

Note: What began as a single NVC class led me into deep personal work and eventually to trainer level. This practice of honest, empathetic, needs-based dialogue continues to guide how I live.

Because yes, I’m happy to welcome someone, help, and have a good conversation. But if I’m not careful, I'll become a service station for everyone except myself.

Some of our new neighbors also came asking for help this week. Of course, I said yes once. But I guard the boundary because balance isn’t a luxury. It’s a condition that no one else will guard for you.

In Redesign, I call health the forgotten cornerstone of sustainable entrepreneurship. This week reminded me that balance isn’t a state. It’s daily maintenance, especially when things get busy.

Today, I live and work in Ibiza. As a DJ. As a mentor. Not because it’s easy. But because I’ve chosen a life that aligns. And because I keep practicing.

A balanced life doesn’t start with big decisions. It begins with a single honest moment. A single breath. A single boundary.

You don’t have to crash to start over.

You can take a walk. Slowly. Mindfully.

With a dog who can’t run for now, who happens to set the perfect pace.

And decide: today, I carry only what is truly mine.