Sunny Self portraits on phone ☀️

Recently, Mark and I found ourselves talking about something that genuinely left us puzzled.

We started wondering how people live who never do anything for anyone else. People who have never volunteered, never helped, never given their time, energy, or care beyond the narrow circle of their own needs and their family’s comfort.

And I don’t mean this with judgment or superiority — I’m honestly trying to understand.

When I invite people to come and help us clean the forest, or simply ask, “Have you ever volunteered before?”, I’m often met with surprise, confusion, or silence. And every time, the same question comes back to me:

how is it possible to live half a life or an entire life only for yourself? What is the meaning of such a life?

It feels as if some people come into this world only to take — to take resources, comfort, safety, space — without ever feeling the need to give anything back. And very often they answer honestly:

“I do everything for my family.”

As if that alone is enough. As if responsibility ends at the walls of one’s home.

And yes, taking care of your family matters. Of course it does.

But is that really all we are here for?

Because to us, that idea feels deeply sad.

We truly cannot imagine living this way, a life built only around consumption, safety, routine, and personal comfort. We’ve always been different. Not because we are better, but because giving, helping, caring has always felt natural to us. Almost instinctive.

Recently, we talked about this for a long time — about meaning, about purpose, about why some people feel so empty and disconnected from the world around them.

And maybe this is the answer. Life is not meant to be lived as a closed system. It is an exchange.

You receive and you give back.

You take and you leave something behind.

Not because someone demands it, not for praise, not for recognition — but because otherwise life loses its depth.

To us, truly living means noticing what hurts around you and responding.

It means caring beyond your own bubble.

It means understanding that this planet, this forest, these people — they are not “someone else’s responsibility.” They are ours. All of us.

Maybe this way of thinking is inconvenient.

Maybe it asks for effort, time, energy.

But a life lived only for oneself feels empty.

And a life that gives, even a little, feels alive.

I did have examples in my family. My parents are very much like me in this sense — caring, involved, never indifferent to others, to animals, to what’s happening around them. I grew up seeing that, and I’m sure it shaped me in many ways.

Mark, on the other hand, did not have that example. Helping others, volunteering, thinking beyond one’s own circle — this was not something he saw modeled at home. And yet, despite that, he still grew into a deeply empathetic person. Someone who has always felt responsibility not only for himself or his family, but for the world around him.

And that’s what confuses us and fascinates us the most.

If empathy isn’t only learned at home, then where does it come from?

Is it something you’re born with?

Is it shaped by stories, books, cartoons, teachers, moments that seem small but stay with you forever?

We honestly don’t know the answer.

But we know one thing: empathy doesn’t appear by accident and when it does, it needs to be protected and nurtured.

In Ukraine Mark created a large educational project together with one of the biggest animal-protection volunteer organizations in the country https://www.instagram.com/uanimals.official?igsh=MXVoamVnaWt2NHh0YQ==  

Starting from this academic year, the project has already been implemented in schools.

Mark is not only a clinical dietitian. He also worked for several years as a school teacher in Ukraine, and he understands the educational system from the inside.

He created a full system of lessons, not just one-off talks, but structured educational materials integrated into different subjects: mathematics, English, and others. These lessons are adapted for both younger and older students and focus on developing empathy, respect for nature, ecology, and a responsible, compassionate attitude toward animals.

I’ve seen these materials myself.

And honestly they are incredible.

At the same time, they made me feel deeply sad, because nothing like this existed when I was a child.

What’s important to understand is that this project is not supported at a governmental level.

It is entirely volunteer-driven.

Together with other teachers and with the support of a large pet-store network in Ukraine, Mark and his team train teachers online across the country — showing them how to use these materials and how to talk to children about empathy, care, responsibility, and connection.

Will we live long enough to see the full results of this work in a new generation?

I honestly don’t know.

But I deeply hope that one day, this quiet, patient work will grow into something much bigger than all of us.

Because if we don’t teach empathy — consciously, intentionally — we risk losing it altogether.

And that, to me, would be the real tragedy.

Thank you for being here.

Thank you for caring.

Thank you for choosing to be part of this exchange 🤍