Imagine: 7 days. 21 litres of water. No shower. No social media. Just you and the endless expanse of the Sahara.
What sounds like an extreme challenge is actually the moment when I begin to truly understand one of the most valuable elements of our planet: WATER.
THE MOST UNUSUAL WATER CONFERENCE IN THE WORLD
March 2023. While you may be sitting in the café planning your third shower of the day, I’m meeting five like-minded people who will soon become companions. We are a curious team: me as a water tech enthusiast with a vision of a “World Water Movement”, my friend Andreas, the initiator of the desert trip, with a focus on smart energy management and hydrogen research, his partner Sabine, who turns water into art, Martin, who is a professional pilot and actually runs a water store (yes, that’s right), Sybille, who has been healing with water for 20 years, and Ananda, who has a very conscious perception and goes into her lake in Bavaria in all weathers.
We all came with specific water projects and plans, each with our own questions and challenges. My head is full of ideas for investments in water tech start-ups and a global water movement that connects people worldwide.
But our journey was to take a different turn than expected. Not discussing the latest water solutions or future technologies. No. We are here to get to know our “inner water” – whatever that means. At least according to our shamanic guides Viola and Ruedi, who greet us with a clear “no business models, no technologies” mantra.
The disappointment on the faces of some of the participants is unmistakable. They thought we would finally discuss the big water issues here. Instead: personal growth. What none of us suspected: it was precisely this detour that would give us deeper insights for our projects and plans than any specialist conference.
MY NEW ADDRESS: A DUNE SOMEWHERE IN NOWHERE
“Find a dune for the week and make yourself at home.” This sentence sounds absurd until I realize: this is meant seriously. No tent. No camper van. Just me, my sleeping bag and a plastic tarp on the sand.
I, who has always successfully avoided sleeping in tents, now face the challenge of setting up my own “sanitary area”. In plain language, that means: a strategically placed hole and the hope that no one walks by. And so it’s not sleeping in a tent, and I remain true to myself.
THE NIGHT THE SKY UNFOLDED ITS IRONY
Second night. I am lying in my sleeping bag on a sand dune when nature itself gives a lesson: it starts to rain. In the Sahara. On our water journey, of all places.
In that moment, I understand: the element we want to contemplate comes directly to us. Not as theory, but as experience. Half dazed, I grab for my plastic tarp, which I fortunately brought with me. With numb fingers and at below 7 degrees Celsius, I fight against wind and rain while trying not to fall out of my warm sleeping bag.
The result: I become a human sandwich. Tarpaulin on the outside, me in the middle, sleeping bag as my new skin. In this uncomfortable situation, completely at the mercy of the water, a new understanding opens up – not water as a matter of course, but as an elementary force of nature that shapes and transforms our planet without concerning itself with human plans.
Despite the absurdity of the situation, I can’t help but smile. What an irony: to understand water, I have to get wet. With an inner laugh at this cosmic lesson, I accept the situation and finally sink back into a deep, grateful sleep, enveloped in the certainty that I am exactly where I should be.
WHEN THE DESERT TURNS GREEN
The next morning, a miracle happens: the desert begins to sprout. Small green tips break through the sand everywhere.
My brain immediately switches to solution mode: how do we get more water here? What technologies could… – STOP. I remember the instruction: don’t think about solutions. Just be. Feel.
It’s damn hard for a (previous) left-brained person like me.
BEYOND THE USUAL – THE DESERT AS TEACHER
Our days follow an unusual rhythm. In the desert, the light creeps into the day as early as six o’clock. At the latest, a rhythmic knocking indicates to us that dough is being transformed into bread in the hot desert sand. In between, the lively babble of our Bedouins, who seem to exchange a world of stories in melodic Arabic. Here, the clocks tick differently; it is not the minute that counts, but the moment.
Instead of meetings, we have ceremonies. Instead of presentations, there are two-hour solo hikes through the dunes and camel rides.
On one of these walks, I notice how the sand under my shoes sounds like breaking glass. It is bone dry. With every step, I become more aware of how far I am from camp – and at the same time, how close I am to myself. I feel comfortable, centered and powerful.
Then a shamanic ritual: all the group members fan out to make contact with a bush and its surroundings. I think, well, nobody can see me here. And then, in this silence, something strange begins to happen. As I start talking to the bush in front of me, ideas for my “World Water Movement” come to me – not as a logical train of thought, but as clear inspirations. The desert, this place of extreme water scarcity, becomes a sounding board for deeper insights into my project.
I ask specific questions: How can we get people worldwide excited about water? How do we combine technological solutions with emotional understanding? And indeed – answers form in my consciousness, clearer than ever before. The desert whispers its wisdom, and I begin to understand that my water project must be based not only on technology, but also on deep understanding.
My mind continues to work: What would this landscape look like if water were abundant? Would we waste it as much as we do at home? And more importantly, how can I get people to appreciate water before they have to experience scarcity?
WHAT I LEARNED WHEN I STOPPED SHOWERING
After a week without a shower, I make a surprising discovery: Contrary to all experiences of civilization, the expected body odor does not occur after days without a shower.
The sand shower – actually more of a rubbing of the body with fine desert sand – leaves me with a surprisingly clean feeling. Not a single drop of water has touched my skin (except for the brief nighttime rain shower), and yet I feel cleansed.
My sleep is deeper than ever before. Without 5G, without the constant hum of electricity, I find a calmness I didn’t think possible.
The freshly baked bread from the sand and the food cooked on the open fire not only tastes incredible – my body can tolerate it without any digestive problems.
THE UNCOMFORTABLE TRUTH ABOUT OUR WATER CONSUMPTION
While I get by with about 3 liters of water a day (for drinking and brushing my teeth), the average European uses 150 liters daily.
In the United States, it is as much as 300 liters. And in the United Arab Emirates? A shocking average of 500 liters per person per day, despite it being an extremely water-poor region.
By way of comparison, a camel can go without water for up to two weeks. When it does drink, it takes in about 200 liters at a time – and stores it for the next dry spell.
WHAT REMAINS WHEN THE SAND HAS DRIED OUT OF MY SHOES
I went to the desert to think about investing in water tech start-ups and I came back with a new appreciation for this element – and a clearer vision for a “World Water Movement”.
The desert showed me not only how little water I actually need to live, but also how powerful every single drop is. A little rain and the seemingly lifeless desert begins to flourish.
Through my understanding of “Inner Waters” – this deep connection that lies within all of us – I have realized that every endeavor and water project in the world must begin with this personal relationship.
From a shamanic perspective, “inner water” is a complex concept that encompasses various levels of meaning: the flow of emotions and feelings, access to deep intuitive wisdom, life force and spiritual vitality, and connection to collective consciousness. The solutions to our global water challenges lie not only in technology, but in a profound shift in consciousness.
The desert is a truly magical place. In its silence, I received precise answers to important questions in life. My vision of a worldwide water movement took shape here – not as an abstract concept, but as a living network of people rediscovering their connection to water and acting from that connection.
My relationship with water has changed fundamentally. Not through discussions about technologies and business models, but through the direct experience of scarcity and abundance at the same time. And it is precisely this experience that I would like to share here.
What is your relationship with water? Have you ever consciously tracked your water consumption? Or had a similar experience? Share your story in the comments or write to me directly.
And if you would like to know more about my journey or are interested in a similar experience, please let me know. The desert awaits, and it has more to teach than you can imagine.