“I want to believe.”

The phrase was there, stuck on a faded poster, in a dark, X-Files-esque office. It wasn't just about UFOs. It was about something deeper: the human need to believe, even when everything around you seems to tell you it's not worth it.

Today the market is down. And when the market falls, it's not just numbers that plummet: narratives, enthusiasm, and communities collapse too. Many leave. Others remain silent. And there are quite a few who say, “I don't believe in anything anymore.”

From the outside, as an observer and admirer, there's something striking about TYSM. It doesn't rely on epic promises or speeches of perpetual euphoria. It doesn't try to convince us that everything is alright when it clearly isn't.

What it proposes is something else.

Believing in gratitude as a starting point. Not as a slogan, but as a practice. Appreciate the process, the genuine connections, what is built quietly and without haste, even amidst uncertainty.

And believe in authenticity. In showing yourself without masks, without selling absolute certainties. In creating spaces where you don't need to feign endless enthusiasm to belong.

“I want to believe” isn't denying reality. It's choosing what to believe in when the numbers are down and the rhetoric is empty.

As someone who observes, listens, and accompanies, that's what resonates from TYSM. A project that, in times when many are leaving, continues to focus on people, on honest conversations, and on gratitude as a common language.

Perhaps it's not about having all the answers.

Perhaps it's about continuing to believe…

and continuing to be grateful.

“I want to believe.”

The phrase was there, stuck on a faded poster, in a dark, X-Files-esque office. It wasn't just about UFOs. It was about something deeper: the human need to believe, even when everything around you seems to tell you it's not worth it.

Today the market is down. And when the market falls, it's not just numbers that plummet: narratives, enthusiasm, and communities collapse too. Many leave. Others remain silent. And there are quite a few who say, “I don't believe in anything anymore.”

From the outside, as an observer and admirer, there's something striking about TYSM. It doesn't rely on epic promises or speeches of perpetual euphoria. It doesn't try to convince us that everything is alright when it clearly isn't.

What it proposes is something else.

Believing in gratitude as a starting point. Not as a slogan, but as a practice. Appreciate the process, the genuine connections, what is built quietly and without haste, even amidst uncertainty.

And believe in authenticity. In showing yourself without masks, without selling absolute certainties. In creating spaces where you don't need to feign endless enthusiasm to belong.

“I want to believe” isn't denying reality. It's choosing what to believe in when the numbers are down and the rhetoric is empty.

As someone who observes, listens, and accompanies, that's what resonates from TYSM. A project that, in times when many are leaving, continues to focus on people, on honest conversations, and on gratitude as a common language.

Perhaps it's not about having all the answers.

Perhaps it's about continuing to believe…

and continuing to be grateful.