The Hyggelig Journey

When everything seems lost — wait. The abyss is in no hurry. It simply exists, silent and patient, while you still breathe. Still feel. Still can. The climb does not ask for heroes. It does not require epics, glory, or the sound of trumpets announcing impossible feats. It only asks for someone willing to go on. To move forward, even without knowing if the path is right. Distance does not matter. Life has no ruler to measure its worth. Delay does not matter. Time is a strange creature — sometimes gentle, sometimes cruel, but never final. Danger does not matter. Fear is only a mirror, reflecting what you believe yourself to be. Living is this: one step. Then another. Then another. And before you know it, you have gone beyond.

One of the most common themes my patients discuss in their psychotherapy sessions is self-sabotage. For psychologists, this presents a complex challenge, particularly when the mechanism operates unconsciously. Without intending to exhaust the subject, I’d like to share a few observations I frequently come across. Why do you sabotage yourself? More often than not, self-sabotage stems from a silent decision: the decision never to be vulnerable again. This choice was likely made a long time ago, without you even realising it, as a reaction to something deeply painful. So painful that you unconsciously set a rule for yourself: “I never want to feel that again.” From that moment on, you may have vowed never to ask for what you need, never to open your heart, never to trust, never to be fully present, never to reveal who you truly are. ( “People don’t deserve me.” ) It was the way you found to protect yourself and regain a sense of control at a time when you felt powerless. The problem with ...

All too often, we encounter situations that provoke fear or disgust, and instead of responding with thoughtfulness, we instinctively swing to the opposite extreme. Rather than pausing to understand the underlying issues or approaching them with balance, we react impulsively, believing that distancing ourselves as much as possible is the safest course of action. Ironically, this approach often leads us straight into the very situation we were trying to avoid — only in a slightly altered form. In our attempt to escape one perceived danger, we blindly run into another, failing to realise that both are merely different sides of the same coin. Take, for example, the way people react to financial hardship. Many witness others struggling under the weight of debt, losing their assets, or even facing bankruptcy. The sight of such instability fuels their determination to avoid the same fate, leading them to adopt an extreme approach to financial security. They dedicate themselves obs...

Over the years of studying human behaviour, one question has remained particularly complex: why do chronic anxiety sufferers so often push their emotional well-being to the background? How many times have I heard patients say they just can’t relax? That they went to the beach only to return feeling exactly the same? That they took a holiday but never truly unwound? Why is it so difficult for them to switch off from anxiety? From a biological perspective, it seems that in individuals with chronic anxiety, the amygdala remains highly sensitive, always on the verge of activation. This fuels that constant sense of uncertainty — the ever-present “what if this happens?” and “what if I can’t handle it?” As a result, the prefrontal cortex struggles to maintain rational thinking, making it easier for irrational thoughts to take hold. Yet, just an hour of mindfulness meditation, a session of music therapy, a visit to the sauna, or even a gentle walk outdoors could be enough to eas...