The Hyggelig Journey

I have observed a curious phenomenon. Fingers slide across the screen with an almost instinctive haste, as if fleeing from something or racing toward an uncertain destination. They do not touch, they skim; they do not see, they merely pass through. Perhaps it is just a reflection of the world outside, that incessant whirlwind where everything moves, but little lingers. Emotional intelligence, that delicate subject, unsettles and provokes. Some approach it with curiosity, while others recoil, as if standing before a mirror reflecting something they would rather not face. Not everyone can bear to see themselves fully. And I understand: there are moments when consciousness weighs heavier than one can endure. As for deep reading, that poor thing has almost become a museum relic. People seek what is ready-made, pre-digested, reduced to the least effort. Time is short, they say — but is it really just time? Or has thinking, that solitary and uncertain exercise, become an uncomf...