The Hyggelig Journey

There was a time when belonging was not something we questioned. It existed in the quiet fabric of daily life — in the rhythm of familiar streets, in the nods exchanged with neighbours, in the unspoken understanding that we were part of something beyond ourselves. Then, without fanfare, something changed. We became preoccupied with independence, mistaking it for strength. We prized self-sufficiency but overlooked its cost. We withdrew, ever so slightly at first, until distance became the norm. Belonging was no longer assumed; it had to be curated, managed, explained. We speak now of connection, yet we skim the surface of relationships, hesitant to wade too deep. And yet, belonging has not disappeared. It lingers in the spaces between our hurried lives, waiting to be recognised. It is there in the warmth of a hand steadying another, in the kindness that expects nothing in return. It exists in the simple, human acts we too often dismiss — preparing a meal for someone else, li...

For over 19 years, Kasper Nymand has been more than just a friend — he’s my topbud . It’s not a widely known term, but it perfectly captures our bond. Kasper’s mind is nothing short of extraordinary — always hungry to learn, explore, and challenge ideas. His curiosity knows no bounds, and his insights never fail to inspire me. Through him, I’ve gained a deeper appreciation for Danish culture, from the comforting embrace of hygge — that cosy, contented sense of togetherness — to the strong values of social fairness that shape life in Denmark. One of our long-standing fascinations has been the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator (as flawed as it may be). Several years ago, we both took the assessment — I was identified as an INTJ (with a notably developed Introverted Feeling), while he was classified as an INFJ at the time. It sparked countless conversations about how we perceive the world, how we think, feel, and make decisions. But people evolve, and so did his result. More re...

The pandemic has drawn a veil between us and those we love. Friends, family, faces once so close now seem like shadows of a memory that insists on slipping through the cracks of time. But physical distance need not mean absence – there are invisible threads that stitch us together, even when touch is denied. Inside the home, where life pulses within familiar walls, why not seek the warmth of togetherness? Cooking together, blending flavours and laughter, letting the aroma of a well-prepared meal awaken a sense of belonging. And for those who find refuge in the sacred, why not turn the home into a temple, allowing faith to drift gently through open windows? What is essential, that never fades. It endures, silent yet strong, in the simple act of remembering that, in some way, we remain together.