Husopas

I spent most of my life in the mountains – with people on a rope and alone. I climbed rocks, skied in the snow, and wandered in the cold and wind. It was my world and it made sense to me.

When I was working on a heliski in Canada, it was time to start a family. We (my wife and me) decided to return back home, where we started family. I knew I wanted to be with them.

So I left mountain life and took a job as a manager. I sat in an office, went to meetings, and made phone calls. My time was divided between making money and a few weeks of vacation. My body and mind began to wither. I was tired. And increasingly empty.

Do you know that feeling when life is rushing forward—and then you suddenly realize that it doesn't make sense?
I needed to stop and look back. To figure out where to go.
A childhood memory came back to me—fragments of a film about a man who flew with geese. That image returned again and again, keeping me awake. I read his book – and that was the beginning of a journey that turned my life upside down.

I discovered that geese are closer to us than we think. They have emotions, memories, and relationships that last a lifetime. They have lived almost unchanged for millions of years. Meanwhile, we are changing every moment – faster and faster.

I had an incubator in my room at home with twelve eggs in it. At Easter 2022, eight beautiful goslings hatched...tiny yellow puffballs that immediately accepted me as their own.
For half a year, we went grazing together, waded through mud, swam in the pond, and roamed the  countryside. And finally – we flew. Me on a hang glider. They flew beside me, in formation.

We had fun, and we also fell. We experienced tension and emotion. They were my children. And I was their fixed point in the universe.

When autumn came, they flew away. I stayed behind – changed. I had awakened.

Today, they are wild and return to the ponds of Bohemian Paradise or southern Moravia. Not a day goes by that I don't think of them. Because being a goose herder is one of the best things I've ever done.

Geese taught me more than I ever expected.
They showed me what attention can do...for myself and for the world around me. What trust means...and that it doesn’t need boundaries, even between humans and animals. How powerful cooperation can be...how much it matters to help others when they are most vulnerable.
They taught me resilience and endurance...not only physical, but also inner.

They reminded me that everything has its time.

They brought me back outside.
From unconsciousness into the present...into the world of my own thoughts.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think of them.
Because being a goose herder is one of the best parts of who I’ve ever been.

We filmed my entire story. We captured countless beautiful photos and shots.
But I couldn’t use them...I didn’t own the copyright.
All I could do was tell the story. So that’s what I did.

At first, it was just friends and random listeners.
I noticed that everyone listened.
Children and adults. Doctors in hospitals and lumberjacks in the forest. The old and the young. The powerful and the sick. Something in the story resonated. And people listened.

Once, a woman called me to say that her father—seriously ill and in hospice care—wanted to talk to  me.
We spoke about death, about fear, about what might come after.
I told him about the geese. About our flying. And he asked me:
“Would you come and tell the others here who are waiting like me?”

So I came, and I told them.
And they all listened.
They asked questions, they laughed, they sat in silence. Some of them cried.

I saw that it helped them… that the geese helped them.
And in that moment, I knew this story could not remain untold.

I decided to borrow money and buy the copyrights. So that everyone could see and experience my story – just like I had. So that the geese could continue to help.