Beyond the Echo Chamber: Why Healing Needs Wild Variety

Last week, I shared about growing up in a small Austrian village. There were four houses, ten cousins, and the messy beauty of belonging to something bigger than myself. There were toddlers and teens, grannies and gruff uncles. Life happened all at once, in all its stages.

That early exposure to different ages, personalities, and ways of being shaped me. It taught me to listen sideways, not just upward or inward. To take advice from someone younger, to watch someone older grieve without words. It gave me a kind of emotional fluency that no classroom ever taught.
And then I grew up… into a world that rewarded specialization.

A world that says: niche down.
Find your target audience.
Speak to your ideal client.
Build the container so tight, no one spills out.

And while that approach can be powerful in certain seasons, it also comes with a shadow side. One I’ve felt in professional spaces, personal growth workshops, and even in the healing world. Sometimes, when everyone is the same age, the same profession, the same outlook, the space becomes flat.
Well-intentioned, yes. But narrow, predictable, and even a little performative.

We’ve been taught to niche in wellness and business spaces alike, and the message is clear:
Niche down.
Get specific.
Find your people, and only your people.

It’s not without value. There’s something powerful about being seen, understood, and supported by others who “get” your path. But I’ve also come to feel the cost of too much narrowing. Because healing doesn’t always happen best in a room full of mirrors. Sometimes we need contrast.
Sometimes we need to be the oldest, or the youngest, or the one with a completely different story.

Nature Doesn’t Niche
It grows in ecosystems - messy, interdependent, diverse. So did we, once.

Intergenerational communities were once the norm: grandparents under the same roof, neighbors across age groups, children soaking up stories from older generations without realizing the wisdom they were receiving.
We’ve lost a lot of that. And we feel it - in the rise of loneliness, burnout, and the quiet ache for something more connected.

Let’s Rebuild What We’ve Lost
When we step back into spaces where different ages, perspectives, and energies coexist, something shifts. We become less performative. More curious. More human.

A child reminds us to play.
An elder reminds us to slow down.
Someone in a completely different life stage offers a reflection we never saw coming.

In these mixed spaces, we soften. We stretch. We remember we’re not just individuals trying to “improve” ourselves, but we’re part of something wider, older, and wiser.

The Richness of the Uncurated
Nature doesn’t niche down. It grows in layers - saplings and ancient trees, ferns and fungi, predator and prey all woven into one dance. Why should our healing be any different?

I’ve come to believe that the richest, most transformative spaces are those that mirror ecosystems, where diversity isn’t a checkbox but a way of being. Where generations sit in circle, not as roles (mentor, mentee) but as co-regulators, co-witnesses, co-creators of story and meaning.

When a grandmother speaks, something settles.
When a teenager speaks, something awakens.
When a single dad or a burned-out clinician or a quiet artist all share the same firepit, something shifts. We remember we’re part of something larger.

Let’s Build More of That
In my coaching, in my retreats, and in the way I design every experience, I’m no longer looking for perfect fit. I’m looking for brave mix. For people willing to show up as they are, and to be shaped by the presence of others who are not like them.

Because healing isn’t one-size-fits-all. And growth doesn’t happen in echo chambers. It happens in forests. In rivers. In rooms with difference.

This month, I’ll keep sharing stories and ideas on how to welcome intergenerational connection and reclaim the wild wisdom of variety.

Because that’s where the real alchemy lives.

With roots and realness,
Karin