There are moments that split your life into a before and an after.
For me, that moment came a few weeks ago.
We were on our way to the trade fair in Zurich.
A journey that was supposed to be about work, dreams, meetings, ideas, and new opportunities.
But we never made it to that fair.
An accident.
A helicopter.
A hospital.
A person who is no longer here.
And me, still here.
Even today, I still struggle to believe it.
There are things we think only happen to other people, until life looks you straight in the eyes and reminds you that nothing is guaranteed.
Not time.
Not people.
Not dreams.
Not tomorrow.
For years, I lived my life running.
The next sale.
The next fair.
The next product.
The next goal.
I would wake up thinking about how to improve CWH.
I would fall asleep thinking about what I had to do the next day.
Always building.
Always pushing.
Always trying to prove something.
But to whom, really?
Maybe to others.
Maybe to the people who never believed in me.
Maybe to that young boy who, years ago, saw his mother crying and promised himself he would never allow his family to live through certain moments again.
Maybe that is where everything began.
Not just a brand.
A promise.
When I started, many people did not understand.
“Who would ever buy wooden displays?”
“What even is this?”
“You dream too big.”
But I saw something in it.
I cannot even fully explain what.
But I saw it.
Day after day, I took care of that idea as if it were a part of me.
I improved it.
I protected it.
I made it grow.
And over time, that dream that once seemed impossible started becoming real.
Our products travelled far.
We took part in international trade fairs.
We collaborated with companies that once felt completely out of reach.
We brought a piece of our work, our workshop, and our story beyond the borders where many thought we would never arrive.
But while I was building all of this, I was forgetting one thing.
Myself.
I neglected myself.
I neglected rest.
I neglected fun.
I neglected lightness.
I neglected the ability to stop and say, “I am doing something beautiful.”
I almost never congratulated myself.
There was always something more to do.
Something to fix.
Something to chase.
Then, in just a few seconds, everything changes.
And when you find yourself in a hospital bed, with your body broken and your mind full of questions, you understand that many of the things you were destroying yourself for were not as important as they seemed.
Do you know what made me feel truly alive?
Not numbers.
Not work.
Not results.
Seeing my family again.
Seeing my friends again.
Feeling the love of people who never stopped hoping.
Receiving messages from people I had not heard from in years.
Realizing that even when you think you are alone, the good you have planted somewhere still remains.
Maybe you do not see it immediately.
Maybe it takes a very long way around.
But then it comes back.
And when it does, it saves you inside.
Today, I look at everything with different eyes.
A phone call.
A dinner.
A laugh.
A hug.
A normal day.
Those things we take for granted, and yet they are everything.
I no longer want to live only to prove something.
I no longer want to destroy myself with anger.
I no longer want to postpone life until “everything is finally sorted.”
Because the truth is, everything will never be perfect.
There will always be a problem.
An order to finish.
A fair to prepare.
A project to improve.
A fear to face.
But life does not wait until we are ready.
It happens now.
Breathe now.
Love now.
Be grateful now.
This does not mean I will stop dreaming.
It does not mean I will stop building.
It does not mean I will give up on ambition.
I will keep going.
I will keep creating.
I will keep improving.
I will keep taking this brand further and further.
But from now on, I want to do it with a different heart.
With more gratitude.
With more presence.
With more love for what I am living, not only for what I am chasing.
Because success, if you have no one to share it with, weighs much less than we think.
And because dreams are beautiful, but being alive is even more beautiful.
I was given a second chance.
I do not know why.
I cannot explain it.
All I know is that I am here.
And this time, every single day will have a different meaning.
Viva la vita.
Mario Trebbi
Founder, CWH
