Childhood
Photographed by Emma C Hartwig
“Unless you become like a child, full of wonder and playfulness, you will not know what it means to be truly alive.”
— Osho
Photographed by Lisa Sorgini
Play is our first language. Before we had words, before we understood the rules of the world, before we knew ourselves as anything but alive— we played. It wasn’t something we did. It was how we met the world. How we reached without hesitation. How we ran before we knew where we were going. How laughter escaped before the mind had time to swallow it. Play was never a break from life. It was how we touched the world. And how we let it touch us.
Photographed by Julie Scheurweghs
In childhood, we spoke this language fluently. Before the world asked us to be anything, we were explorers, artists, inventors of imaginary worlds. We played not to win, not to impress, but simply because it was who we were. Every puddle was an ocean, every shadow a secret doorway. We ran because our bodies wanted to, we laughed because joy had no reason to wait. There was no past to regret, no future to control—only the now, bursting with possibility.
Photographed by Lisa Sorgini
Photographed by David Luraschi
Photographed by Lisa Sorgini
But little by little, we were told to slow down. To be careful. To think before we moved. To measure ourselves. We learned that some things should be kept quiet. That moving too fast could lead to a fall. That wanting too much could leave us empty-handed. We learned how to shrink parts of ourselves. How to stay within the lines. How to trade wonder for reason, freedom for control, movement for stillness. We were taught that play is for children. That movement should have purpose. That laughter should have a reason. That trust should be earned.
Photographed by Nimrod Gross
And so, we became careful. And maybe that kept us safe. But it also made us small. It made our steps lighter, our laughter softer, our desire something to be managed. But childhood never truly leaves us. It lingers in the corners of our memory, in the reflex to skip over cracks in the pavement, in the way music still calls us to dance. And somewhere deep inside us... Something still aches for the wind in our lungs, for the feeling of our feet leaving the ground, for the moment before the jump—when everything is possible. For the moment we stop holding ourselves back.
Photographed by Lisa Sorgini
Are you ready
to Play?
Photographed by Eastman Kodak Company
Photographed by Julie Scheurweghs
SOMA
Events
SOMA is in incubation. Taking form, shifting, becoming. The first step is stirring—Childhood.
If you’d like to follow the unfolding, join us.
Sadhana is a homecoming—a return to presence, to play, to the simple magic woven into everyday life. It is not a set of rules to follow, but an open invitation to experience love as something lived, felt, and expressed in each moment. Whether through movement, breath, stillness, or laughter, every practice is a doorway back to yourself. This is not about effort, but about remembering. A softening. A space where the ordinary becomes extraordinary, where life itself becomes the practice.
Photographed by Fejer Bernadette
Our Journey of Love
We are starved for love, surrounded by tales of love in TV serials, movies, books, and songs, yet seldom do we pause to consider that love is something we can truly learn and nurture within ourselves.
Photographed by Noémi Ottilia Szabo
“We’re all just walking eachother home.”
— Ram Dass
