Becoming Human

Biography Work in the House of Life illustrates how opportunities and challenges can be understood and fulfilled in every stage of life.

---

Who am I? What is the meaning, the leitmotif, of my life? Often, many people today want to ignore these important questions. At the same time, one of the signatures of our time is the wish to make the most of what life has to offer. Anthroposophical biographical work, the foundations of which were developed by Rudolf Steiner,¹ affords personal self-reflection and reorientation at any age. In my work as an anthroposophical physician, the question of the conditions for healthy development became increasingly important. It has always been important to me that spiritual scientific knowledge be accessible to everyone. Over the course of twenty years of counseling and continuing education courses, I developed the method I call “Biography Work in the House of Life” [Biografiearbeit im Lebenshaus, BIL], which I would like to introduce in this article.

How do heredity, socialization, and our ‘I’ come together? As human beings, we have the capacity to develop and learn throughout our lives. We have our ‘I’ to thank for this quality of striving to develop, to become. This idea stands in the center of biography work. We observe life in its broader context and start to get a feeling for the themes that shape our lives. We take responsibility for our lives and move from the role of victim to the role of active life developer. We then experience that within every crisis is hidden an opportunity for the unfolding of the self.

Three streams are at work in our biography. The first stream is formed by the genetic heritage of our father’s and mother’s ancestors. The second stream is imprinted upon us by our environment and upbringing. The third stems from that elusive spiritual core of our being—our ‘I’—and its power to become, to develop, which is expressed throughout the course of our life when we realize and manifest our life’s purpose.

The Seven-Year Rhythm in Our Biography

Our etheric body is a stream of life that forms the basis of our biography. The fundamental rhythm of the etheric is a period of seven years, and this seven-year rhythm gives us the structure of the “rooms of life” in the Biography Work of the House of Life. In each room, new qualities, questions, and tasks become the focus of specific moments of our development. The transitions between the rooms are sometimes fluid, sometimes abrupt, and sometimes themes are skipped over and only addressed at a later time, all according to our personal disposition. Within the archetypal stream of life, our personal biography finds its individual imprint where our ‘I’ expresses itself and our destiny takes shape.

In the ARD miniseries Aenne Burda,² the first part of the story unfolds within a modest family home where survival depends on each individual’s strength of will. This is a resource that Aenne will later draw upon as she builds her empire. In the postwar era, she lives a prosperous family life with her husband and three sons. It goes without saying that Aenne does not have to work, and so she devotes herself entirely to raising her children and her role in the community. This is the second chapter in the story. Then, when she visits her mother who still lives in a poor neighborhood, it strikes her that the women there dress in dark and drab clothing. She thinks: These women should also have access to colorful fabrics and stylish clothing designs. Tragically, she then discovers that her husband has been cheating on her for years. This awakens a force within her (the third chapter): her own entrepreneurial ‘I’. From now on, she stands on her own and commits to her vision of restoring women’s beauty and self-confidence. “Trees grow to the sky” becomes her motto. She doesn’t let setbacks get her down. She wants to launch a fashion magazine that provides women ideas for clothing they can sew themselves in their own size, equipped with patterns and practical step-by-step instructions.

With her breakout success—the publication of her first magazine—she no longer calls herself Anna but steps forth as Aenne. Now, the true individual human being of Aenne finally becomes visible to the outside world. Many women faced similar circumstances back then, but Aenne Burda had the vision, the imagination, and above all, the drive to help women find stylish clothing. Therein lies the force of her personal identity in Aenne Burda’s life story.

Anthroposophical Biographical Work with the Biographical Work in the House of Life Method

When we choose to engage in self-reflective biographical work using the “life house,” it is as if we move into our life house for a second time—but this time actively and in full consciousness. We first visualize our “I-stream” as a mind map in our house of life. A structure emerges that leads to a more comprehensive understanding of deeper connections. I always find it to be a rather moving experience when counselors and clients explore this map together for the first time. A vision of one’s life unfolds. A sense of meaning, coherence, and relief sets in when we begin to see that—while our issues are individual and personal—they are at the same time a lawful part of universal human development. The focus of our counseling throughout the process is on the relationship between the etheric life stream and the emergence of the efficacious ‘I’ within it. From this bird’s-eye view, we are able to view our own feelings at a necessary distance, which helps to stimulate our self-awareness. Before we begin this type of counseling, though, we need to already be moderately stable in our souls because we’re going to need to do some renovations in this house of life. We will also have to examine our crisis strategies, which we probably adopted in childhood. They were helpful at one point, but from the perspective of ourselves now as competent adults, are they still? Or do they require an update—something that professional support can often help us with? Using the tools of Biographical Work in the House of Life, we can build our very own life house which serves to realize our professional and personal goals across all the “seven-year rooms of life.”

At birth, we enter our life house. Of course, the prebirth period and birth itself are also included in the consultation. On the ground floor—the first 21 years—we have three rooms dedicated to bodily development; these ground us in the facts of our lives. On the second floor—from ages 21 to 42—we settle into three rooms dedicated to soul development. From ages 42 to 63, the loft awaits us with three rooms where our potential for self-realization becomes possible. After age 63, a new, free phase begins, which each individual shapes in their own way.

Jürgen was a successful 51-year-old computer scientist living independently and was emotionally quite self-sufficient. But ever since he met his wife—the love of his life—he’s been plagued by a fear of loss. He does everything he can for their relationship and has a wish to “build a nest.” He doesn’t realize that he’s centered his entire life around her. Then his wife confesses that she has fallen in love with another man. The formally confident and self-assured computer scientist breaks down. When asked during his consultation whether he recognizes this feeling, tears well up in his eyes, and, sobbing, he says, “Until I was nine years old, I was happy and trusted my parents unconditionally. Then, without any warning, they surprised me by moving to another state. They explained at the time that they wanted to protect me. I couldn’t understand them! For a long time I was in shock and couldn’t make any new relationships. That’s why I eventually chose a profession where the mind reigns supreme. I never devoted myself to matters of the soul again.” During the conversation, he knew that in his love for his wife, he had once again fallen into the emotional dependency of his childhood. He abandoned his role as an adult partner and reverted to being the nine-year-old boy who feared nothing more than the possibility of a sudden separation. He did everything to avoid this, denied his own needs, and thereby became increasingly unattractive to his wife. As soon as Jürgen understood this connection, he was able to distance himself from his helplessness and became a grown and capable man once again. He accepted a job offer in another city and only came home on weekends. Although it was difficult for him not to want to control his wife, their former love was able to reemerge during their conversations on the weekends. Occasionally, Jürgen is overcome by his old fear of abandonment, but he now understands the underlying causes. He then takes his inner nine-year-old Jürgen by the hand and explains the situation to him. If that isn’t enough, he has agreed with his wife that he will call her and have her tell him what she is doing at that moment. In this way, he is learning to take himself and his feelings seriously.

The First 21 Years: The Ground Floor of Life

Bernard Lievegoed describes the first 21 years as “a great event of incarnation.” Growth and development take place on the level of the physical body. We live in close connection with our surroundings. On the soul level, this is the time when we “take and receive.”³ As children, we are placed into the facts of our lives: our homeland, our native language, our parents, our siblings—all of these will shape our lives. At the center is the question of whether we are accepted just as we are—the unconditional security and love we have or have not experienced. We are dependent on our parents even for our physical survival. Breaches in basic trust, feelings of loneliness and abandonment—these are the deep-seated issues that often become etched into our skin like a tattoo for life. But every childhood also has its rays of sunshine, and, from Ben Furman’s biographical work, we learn that It’s Never Too Late to Have a Happy Childhood.⁴ During our school years, we develop and shape our temperament. School now plays a defining role in our daily lives. We want to learn and discover the world with our friends. The atmosphere in our family home will shape us. Affirmations, habits, standards, and prejudices—all the phrases that begin with “In our family . . .” or “You’re supposed to . . .” will accompany us like cherished old clothes until we sort them out.

The Middle of Childhood and Its Crisis: The Rubicon

At the age of ten, an important developmental crisis occurs, the Rubicon, during which our ‘I’ seeks to anchor itself in the physical body and the soul at the level of the heart. Part of this developmental stage is that our breathing and heart rhythms seek to align in a ratio of approximately one to four when at rest. Prior to this, children have their own independent rhythms. In this way, the physical body develops its stability, which forms the prerequisite for an independent feeling life of our soul. When we observe schoolchildren at this age, it becomes clear that a focused, self-directed approach to learning only becomes possible with the inner security provided by the established pulse-breath ratio. An inner distance from the external world sets in; this is a prerequisite for the later independence of the soul. It’s a painful process because children learn that parents, teachers—indeed, all adults—make mistakes, can do the wrong things, and can be incorrect. Despite the pain, this helps to awaken the children’s capacity for independent critical thinking. Children often feel they are treated unfairly and misunderstood at this age. Amid a feeling of profound abandonment, children begin to comprehend themselves as an ‘I’ in all its solitude. From now on, the experience that every human being is alone in their innermost essence will accompany them throughout their life. Now we can understand the questions children pose to their parents during these years. From a genuine inward doubt, they suddenly ask, “Can you prove to me that I am really your child? Maybe I’m just a foundling, left on your doorstep?” The finitude of life, death, enters the child’s world of experience.

In my years of work, I have found that the Rubicon is often not understood as an essential aspect of childhood or is mistaken for early puberty. Through anthroposophical anthropology, we can understand the connection between the Rubicon and the period of maturity between the ages of 49 and 56. If children suffer a shock during this sensitive time due to academic stress, separation, or loss, this can lead to a predisposition to heart failure or heart disease later in life, especially between the ages of 49 and 56.

In our youth, we find ourselves caught between two opposing forces. On the one hand, we are still tied to the parental table; on the other, there are encounters in which we sense that we must set out on our own to find ourselves. Experiences of puberty that are not understood or lack proper guidance can later lead to difficulties forming attachments and a kind of “eternal” puberty. Adolescents with an excessive need for harmony obscure the life lessons puberty offers, and these often surface unexpectedly later on. But on the ground floor of life, we find the “jokers” in our deck that give us strength—our personal resources. It can be helpful to use the times when we’re waiting in line or riding in a car to recall some beautiful circumstances, situations, and details of our childhood rooms. Can you hear yourself laugh?

The Years from 21 to 42: Soul Development

Bodily development comes to an end with the maturation of the frontal lobe. Our ‘I’, now comes of age, is born in our soul. A flight of stairs leads from the ground floor of bodily development up to the second floor of soul development, where we find three more seven-year rooms that we must occupy, enliven, and furnish over the next 21 years.

The Sentient Soul: The Living Room

The period of the sentient soul, the living room of the life house from ages 21 to 28, resembles our formative years of life. We venture out into the world, get to know ourselves, and test our abilities. We form friendships that last a lifetime. School, university, and career provide the backdrop during this “destiny-free” period, against which real life—shaped by the subjective feelings of our sensory soul—unfolds. It is the Strum und Drang [storm and stress] period of life, of romance, travel, and adventure. Do we hear the call of our lives, and do we have the courage to follow it with force and confidence through all resistance? Around age 28, a turning point arrives. Our guardian angel withdraws. What once sustained us no longer does so. At the same time, our past catches up with us. This spiritual crisis of the ‘I’ is the true cause of today’s quarter-life crisis.

Anton says of this period, “By the time I was 28, my wild years were behind me. I had started my own enterprise, and my son was born. That was a turning point. I felt like I was finally standing on my own two feet.”

The Intellectual Soul or the Soul of Higher Feeling and Thinking: The Study

In the life house’s study (the soul room of the intellectual soul) we find the practicality and objectivity we now need. The years from 28 to 35 are a kind of apprenticeship. We sense that it is time to settle into our lives. We have arrived at our lower ego; everything is within our grasp. We embrace the challenges of daily life and juggle the demands of family, work, and career. We stand in the depths of our bodies and in the full force of our life. Everything seems feasible and possible to us. We assertively stand up for our rights and our convictions. Clear and objective reason governs our lives. In our partnership, the functional community based on mutual agreement and shared responsibility prevails. The rush hour of life has arrived. In our souls of higher feeling and thinking, we can find balance through access to deeper questions of personal development, art, and spirituality.

The Midlife Crisis

We reach the middle of our thirties and, rather self-content, may think to ourselves, “Things will just keep on in this way, along the beaten path of the material, earthly world.” But then, for some, doubt creeps in imperceptibly: “Is this all there is?” For others, it leads to a sobering, often painful experience. Whatever face the midlife crisis presents to us as it enters our lives, it seeks to awaken the knowledge that we are citizens of two worlds, heaven and Earth. Here at the lowest point, having arrived at the core of our lower ego, my ‘I’ [the higher ego] wishes to fully join with its spiritual archetype, its true Self. What did I actually want to do in this life? What is the meaning of it all?

The Consciousness Soul: The James Bond Room

During the intellectual soul phase, we were full of answers. With the development of the consciousness soul starting at age 35, we enter the realm of questions that seek individual, situation-specific answers. Our natural development, given to us as a gift, has ended. Whether we find an empathetic, attentive posture to understand ourselves and our counterpart depends on the will of our ‘I’. With this will, we can venture into a clearing, the encounter of the in-between, a standing in the midst, as Hölderlin calls out to us: “Come into the open, friend!”⁵ Now, oppositions can be overcome, and new paths become possible through cooperation. This requires openness to new solutions. That is why I have named this space the James Bond Room, for the name alone awakens both women and men and inspires them to experience their own lives as an adventure with a personal mission.

Resolving our “basement issues” enables us to fulfill our potential. Now we are ready for the third phase of spiritual development, which no longer consists of predetermined spaces but must be lived out individually, like converting an attic into a living space. As we enter our forties, we begin to look back. We become conscious of our past. By attempting to pry open the attic hatch, we begin to experience our projections onto others as our own, personal “basement issues.”

Sabine often felt excluded and overlooked in her musical trio. During our conversation, she explained that when she was five years old she had been sent to live with her aunt for six weeks after her sister was born. As we put ourselves in her little girl shoes, we realize with her that she has been reenacting that core feeling from her childhood ever since. Armed with this insight, she now actively seeks out someone to talk to in such situations.

42 to 63: The Expansion of the Attic Studio as a Space for Personal Fulfillment

It often takes a complete renovation of the basement and ground floor (sometimes with professional help) before we can convert our attic into a bright, open loft studio; that is, before we can know and implement our life’s personal mission. Sometimes it may seem as though our real life is only now just beginning! In the loft studio of our personal self-realization, the determined resolve of our 40s, the wise foresight of our 50s, and, finally, the grateful kindness of our 60s await us. These steps of new self-responsibility and further development along the way are not a given; many shy away or remain stuck. Fortunately, instead of the lateral move into the “development parking lot,” as Michaela Glöckler describes it, a move forward into our refurbished loft is always possible.⁶

Midsummer: Embracing Authenticity

We embrace our strengths and weaknesses, are no longer afraid of losing face, and shape our lives with energy and determination. At first we’re not consciously aware of the onset of the aging process. It is up to us whether we will transform the life forces, which are increasingly leaving our physical bodies, into wisdom. True authenticity requires self-acceptance—accepting ourselves as we have become, with our deep-seated issues—and our potential. The questions now are: “Who have I become?” and “Who do I want to become?” “What is my leitmotif, my guiding principle, that I want to enthusiastically pursue?” Perhaps we know Thornton Wilder’s words apply to us as well: “Without your wound, where would your power be?”⁷ Then we experience the connection between our personal suffering and our guiding principle in life. We experience that our true, adult life has now begun, in which we have become inwardly free and take responsibility for ourselves. In these moments of connection with our spiritual self, we orient ourselves toward what is possible for us and our surroundings.

Maturity

With new foresight for the true wisdom of life, around the age of 49, we experience a further deepening of our spiritual life. We have reached life’s high plateau. Sometimes it seems as if the world is rolling out the red carpet for us. We are entering our phase of social leadership; this can be a time of giving. We open ourselves to the forces of resonance, stepping out of personal entanglement into a more objective perspective and thus understanding of the deeper connections of fate. At the same time, we are only now painfully conscious of how much emotional baggage we have placed in the life backpacks of those close to us through our life decisions. Can we bear this self-reflection—without self-pity—and ask for forgiveness where necessary? In our surroundings, we also painfully experience ourselves as spectators when loved ones are unable or unwilling to take developmental steps and face the consequences of life. The forces of humility and gratitude grow, and equanimity opens out to wide distances. If we manage to pool and concentrate our energies to shape the high plateau of our lives creatively and in harmony with the forces of resonance, this phase of life can last well into our 70s.

For this stage of his life, Volker said, “I’m out of debt. For some time now, I’ve felt like I’ve left my debt behind. Once you reach a certain age, life just gets happier and happier.”

Harvest Season

Farewells and new beginnings. Starting at age 56, it’s time to prepare for the final major—and today, possibly quite long—phase of life. Have we made peace with the past, forgiven our parents, and let go of unmet expectations regarding our adult children? Are we cultivating our spiritual depths, feeling grateful for our lives, and focusing on the essential? Do we reflect on farewells and new beginnings? It is time to find a new rhythm of life appropriate to our age.

Nadja said, “What comes after 42 is like a quantum leap, like a second spring. Thanks to my work on my life story, I now know there is a future! And I know that the bad times were actually the good times, because that’s when things started to change and I was able to learn something!”

After 63: Through the Skylight and into the Sunroom

In the loft of the house of life, we focus on what is essential and necessary. When, in the grace and humility of good health, we embrace the life forces that are being released within us, we can experience the magic of rejuvenation as we grow older. With a clear vision, we can take up the impulses from the future and—free from excessive politeness or tradition, free from economic worries or expediency—give gifts to our grandchildren or to society. Now we have entered the sunroom of life! As we grow old and cross the threshold of death, Hans Werner’s motto can be fulfilled, “The future is our task as human beings, especially as older people.”⁸

At any stage of life, exploring the lawfulness of biography can help us discover a profound sense of meaning that brings us relief and gives us force and confidence. Anthroposophical biographical work is suitable for addressing all the crises faced by modern people. Especially during a midlife crisis, work on our biography can lead to truly new perspectives.

---

More at Biografiearbeit im Lebenshaus [Biography Work in the House of Life]

Translation Joshua Kelberman
Title image Nikoline Arns, Unsplash

1. Rudolf Steiner, Themen aus dem Gesamtwerk. Vom Lebenslauf des Menschen [Themes from the Complete Works. On the life path of the human being], edited by Erhard Fucke (Stuttgart: Freies Geistesleben, 2006).
2. Aenne Burda: Die Wirtschaftswunderfrau, directed by Francis Meletzky (Germany: Polyphon Pictures, Südwestrundfunk (SWR), 2018). Streaming miniseries.
3. Bernard Lievegoed, Phases: The Spiritual Rhythms in Adult Life, 4th edn. (Forest Row, East Sussex: Rudolf Steiner Press, 1997; repr. 2003); first published in Dutch, 1979.
4. Ben Furman, It’s Never Too Late to Have a Happy Childhood: From Adversity to Resilience (London: BT Press, 1997).
5. Friedrich Hölderlin, “Once There Were Gods . . .” [Götter wandelten einst], in Selected Poetry: Including Hölderlin’s Sophocles (Newcastle upon Tyne: Bloodaxe Books, 2018); written spring 1799; first published in German in 1909.
6. Michaela Glöckler, “Die 7 Entwicklungsgeheimnisse des Menschseins” [The 7 secrets of human development], YouTube video, 1:27:02, posted by “Biografiearbeit mit Dr. med. Susanne Hofmeister,” May 18, 2025.
7. Thornton Wilder, “The Angel That Troubled the Waters,” in Thornton Wilder: Collected Plays and Writings on Theater (New York: Library of America, 2007), 55. First published, 1928.
8. Susanne Hofmeister, Mein Lebenshaus hat viele Räume [My lifehouse has many rooms] (Munich: Kösel, 2025), 234.