The Hyggelig Journey

I looked at the other and saw an abyss. But then, I looked again. There was something there that called to me, something that belonged to me without my knowing. What was it? Alterity. That strange word that, in the end, only means: you are not alone. The other has always been here. At the street corner, in the reflection of a window, in the glance that meets yours for a fleeting moment before vanishing. The other is the unknown that unsettles you, but also the child within you that once needed comfort. You think you are you because you feel your skin, but what if your self is far greater than you imagine? Because, you see, without the other, you do not exist. Your voice is only heard because someone listens. Your gestures have meaning only because they are seen. Your story matters because it can be told — and every story needs someone to hear it. Alterity is not just about respecting the other; it is about realising that they shape you. The trouble is, we think of ourselves...

Empathy is often interpreted as the ability to put oneself in another’s place, but this simplistic definition does not capture its depth. Empathy is not merely feeling what another person feels; it is understanding their experience without becoming lost in it. This balance between connection and discernment is essential, particularly in professions that require rational decision-making without emotional burdens clouding judgement. In acupuncture, for instance, the practitioner must attentively listen to the patient’s complaints, grasp emotional nuances, and understand their pain without absorbing it. An acupuncturist who is overwhelmed by a patient’s suffering may lose the clarity needed to determine the most appropriate treatment. Conversely, a lack of empathy results in a cold, mechanical approach, reducing the patient’s trust in the therapeutic process. Neuroscience shows that empathy is not merely an emotional response but also a neurological function. The brain has spe...

There is much a doctor can never say. Keeping silent hurts, but it is a necessary exercise when a patient arrives at the clinic seeking more than just a prescription for her illness. It is the part of the vocation that neither university teaches nor the church canonises. This silence is a miracle when one knows how to listen to it. The sacred religiosity of the profession ends here, faced with the sharp wit of a client probing for an answer. If, for every patient who complains about their spouse, I allowed the slightest hint of concession and my expression betrayed even the faintest amen during the consultation, rest assured, I would be sealing the marital grave myself. That’s right—when someone starts complaining, they already have their bags packed, merely awaiting a formal excuse, and nothing serves that purpose better than something straight from the doctor’s mouth to decree the end. But being a companion to silence does not prevent me from muttering a few words of caution here ...

Not so long ago, a close mate of mine, Kasper Nymand , started his career with enthusiasm and carism. Knowing him since forever, I was at the same time happy for his focus onto a brilliant start and worried for noticing he was distancing himself from everyone. It's emblematic when you see yourself in others, especially when you too have struggled to find an equilibrium between work and family. So there was I, following his start and wondering to myself, should I warn him on measuring his enthusiasm? Is that even something someone wants to hear? Should I let him learn his compass alone? Don't get me wrong, there's nothing wrong about enjoying your work and feeling pushed towards doing a good job. My concern was, essentially, on the wide range of intensity I was noticing. He was all in, although everything seemed perfect. I waited for a chance to approach him, without questioning too directly his otherwise unbreakable determination. Few months later, on his 20th birth...

People often misunderstand happiness, even though we all seem to seek for it actively. The thing is, happiness isn't something you can seek entirely by yourself, alone. No, it is rather a goal only achieved when shared, fulfilled and portioned by those with whom you live. Granted, we all are subjects to fragments of joy every once in a while, and as subtle as those moments of prosperity and caring can be, they are deeply imprinted in your mind. We may not even realise immediately, but we, in many instances, revisit those moments for strength, enlightenment, endurance. The misunderstanding happens when your joy relies exclusively on your wealth, status, and possessions. Thereby, you may be giving into what your instincts want, instead of what your heart seeks. Spurts of opportunities to achieve happiness are repeatedly lost when our pocket overrules our most intimate sense of gratitude, and when greed makes us forget those who have carried us along the path. Whether, whilst you smil...