"I'm starting to think life is just one long in-between moment. You're too present to notice while you're in it, and once you realize it's ending, you're already somewhere else."
– Sara Ylipoti
Sara Ylipoti doesn't fit neatly into categories. She's trilingual and tri-instrumental. She's scaled operations for startups across Europe and mentored founders from gaming to B2B. Originally from the US, she's lived in Russia, Spain, and Switzerland, absorbing something different from each place. And through all that movement, she's developed a quiet philosophy about the spaces in between.
What drew us to Sara's story isn't just the impressive geography of her career. It's how she approaches movement itself. Not as a means to an end, but as a practice. A way of thinking. A rhythm that shapes everything from her morning walks to how she designs her workspace.
At Sotiyo, we believe in Human Flow—the choreography of modern movement through cities, moments, and environments. Sara embodies this naturally. She's someone who understands that discovery isn't about dramatic adventures; it's about noticing the neighbor who waves at the same time every day, the way light shifts on a familiar route, the small rhythms that make a place feel like somewhere you belong.
Three Walks, Three Rhythms
Sara's day unfolds in movement. From her small office in a town outside Zurich—a quiet corner that's entirely hers—she structures her thinking around three daily walks, each with its own cadence.
Morning walks to school with her son and dog move at the pace of curiosity. Slow, anticipatory, full of small discoveries. Midday walks alone with the dog shift into a faster, more introspective rhythm—problem-solving mode, she calls it. And afternoons, picking up her son, burst with high energy as stories spill out and neighbors emerge, the town waking back up.
"Same route, completely different flow each time," she says.
Physical movement clears her head more than anything else. It's not exercise for its own sake. It's space to think, to process, to let ideas settle naturally. Movement as method.
The Permanence of Impermanence
When asked about in-between moments—those transitions that feel significant even if we can't name why—Sara pauses, then offers something unexpected:
"I'm starting to think life is just one long in-between moment."
She's learned to look for permanence not in fixed destinations but in small, repeating rhythms. The neighbor who waves at the same time. Checking on the ducks by the river. Noticing how local farmers rotate their crops. Those quiet repetitions feel like the closest thing to permanence.
It's a perspective that comes from experience. Geographic transitions have shaped her more than any single place. Each location leaves something behind—ways of thinking, living, moving.
"I'm a collection of everywhere I've been," she says.
Libraries as Crossroads
Lately, Sara has been drawn to libraries. Not just for the books, but for what they represent: one of the few remaining spaces where all generations naturally mix.
Kids doing homework. Students hunched over laptops. Elderly people reading newspapers. And you get to choose your energy—work quietly or stay open to conversation.
Recently, she sat next to an older man who'd brought a book written about him, proudly sharing his story with anyone who'd listen. That kind of spontaneous encounter matters to her. She's drawn to spaces that hold both quiet introspection and unexpected connection.
It's the same quality she values in public transportation. Everyone just existing in the same temporary space. All walks of life, all ages. She watches how people move, what they're doing, who they're with.
"Public transportation is one of the most fascinating places to observe humanity," she notes.
The Design of Simplicity
When it comes to what makes something well-designed, Sara has a specific sense. She's drawn to wild, colorful designs, but she's weirdly picky about simple objects.
"True simplicity—no unnecessary embellishments, just clean lines and clear intention—is harder to find than you'd think. When something commits fully to that restraint, it stands out."
That philosophy extends to how she moves through her day. Parenthood taught her to carry endless small things for her son. So when she's alone, she goes minimal. The one exception: a book. Always. For commutes, waiting rooms, random pockets of time. Whenever she can sneak in a few pages.
Comfort, for her, means flow state. When she stops tracking time and just exists in what she's doing. That's the feeling she's after—not luxury or convenience, but the sensation of being fully present.
Staying Present Through Movement
Avoiding autopilot takes effort. Sara credits her son with helping her stay present. Kids see wonder in tiny things—a leaf, an insect, how shadows move. Pointing things out for him has made her more aware of her own environment.
She also mixes up what she listens to when she walks: podcasts, music, or just silence and whatever thoughts show up. Small shifts that keep familiar routes feeling fresh.
What Comes Next
When asked about her next destination, Sara doesn't offer a specific city or project. Instead, she's letting things land organically.
"I'm exploring projects, places, and collaborations that feel aligned—not just professionally, but personally. After a decade of constant movement, I'm letting things unfold."
It's a fitting mindset for someone who sees life as one continuous in-between moment. Not rushing toward the next thing, but staying present in the transitions themselves.
Finding Flow Between Places
Sara's story reminds us that Human Flow isn't about dramatic adventures or constant motion for its own sake. It's about developing a relationship with movement—understanding your own rhythms, noticing the small repetitions that ground you, and staying curious about the spaces in between.
Whether you're walking the same route three times a day or sitting in a library open to spontaneous conversation, the practice is the same: be present, notice what's around you, and let movement shape your thinking rather than the other way around.
Because maybe Sara's right. Maybe life really is just one long in-between moment. And maybe that's exactly where we should focus our attention.
We invite you to connect with Sara on Linkedin
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