This sentence has been with us for a long time. It reminds us that growth takes time. That it isn’t always visible. Even when every part of you longs to finally arrive.
A plant doesn’t rush to grow – it simply stretches toward the light, one leaf at a time
Just like you can’t pull on a plant to make it grow faster, we can’t force our path to unfold more quickly. We do what we can. And we trust that things will fall into place when the time is right – step by step, one leaf at a time.
And then everything changed
When we first came to Canada, everything was prepared: job, plans, immigration status. We brought our animals with us – because this was meant to be the beginning of a new chapter.
But then the law changed. The position that was originally planned for us no longer qualified as a valid basis for immigration – and suddenly, we were left empty-handed.
I wrote about that first big setback in this blog post: The First Setback: When the Dream of Canada Meets Reality
Our next attempt was to start a company in Austria and Canada – with the goal of requesting a transfer to Canada as managing director. To meet the requirements, we had to establish a new company in Austria from scratch. This company had to be at least 12 months old before we could even apply.
We planned everything precisely – the deadlines, the paperwork, even our flights were scheduled to align perfectly. For an entire year, we lived with the thought: “This is it. This will work.”
And then, just three weeks before the finish line, the legislation changed again. Suddenly, an Austrian-based company was no longer enough – an international corporate presence was now required.
Just like that, our carefully built plan was invalidated overnight.
A year can pass so quickly when you think everything is under control.
And a path that once felt certain can turn into a dead end in a single paragraph of legal text.
Trying again – and hoping for a work permit
So here we are again – giving it everything we have. The LMIA-based job authorizations that had previously been revoked are now valid again. I’m actively applying for positions in hopes of receiving a Canadian work permit, while Gernot is fully immersed in exploring the Startup Visa program, which, under the right conditions, could lead to permanent residency.
It often feels like the goal keeps moving just out of reach. But we’re still standing. And we keep going.

Caught between two worlds – financially and emotionally
We’ve kept our home in Austria. A part of it is rented out – and that helps immensely. It allows us to cover the living costs of whichever one of us is currently in Canada, and fully fund the upkeep of our house back home. Without this solution, continuing our immigration journey would’ve been financially impossible.
And even though our animals are already with us in Canada – and a piece of our heart with them – daily life still means separation. We take turns: the one in Canada handles applications, groundwork, and networking; the one in Austria manages the household, responsibilities, and the emotional logistics of living across continents.
Each reunion is also a farewell – and sometimes it feels like you’re missing more than you’re experiencing.
Still, we grow. Not in spite of the circumstances, but with them. And it takes a lot of mental strength – as individuals, but especially as a couple.
Staying legal – our promise to the future
We are fully aware how important it is to follow every rule and regulation to protect our chance for permanent residency.
We do not work illegally, we don’t claim benefits we’re not entitled to, and we stick firmly to the conditions of our temporary status.
This path is demanding – but it’s the only one we’re willing to take. Because our goal is to build an honest, legal, and long-term life in Canada.
Working with our hands – moving forward with our hearts
Even if progress is slow, our land is beginning to come alive. We do everything by hand – without machines, without contractors, without shortcuts.
Not because we romanticize hardship – but simply because we can’t afford major investments until we know we’ll be allowed to stay.
And yet: what we planted last year has survived the harsh Canadian winter – and is now growing stronger every day.
Many of the areas we’ve begun to care for no longer resemble untouched wilderness. They look like something usable. Greener. More structured. More fertile.
Right next to them are still the untouched spaces, overgrown and littered with brush from the first clearing.
They remind us just how much nature responds to care – and how rewarding it is to witness that transformation.
Looking ahead – why we keep going
We don’t know how much longer this process will take. But we know why we’re doing it.
Because we want to live here. Work here. Contribute here.
Because we believe in our vision.
Because we want to arrive – not just geographically, but also within ourselves.
And maybe that’s the point:
We’re already on our way.
Like a plant reaching for the light. Not in a rush. But with intention.