The Hyggelig Journey

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...

Suddenly, without warning, the mind rises and begins to walk on its own. One step, then another, then a thousand. It moves without direction, yet always in haste. It wants to understand, to predict, to grasp the world in its hands. But the world slips away—as it always does. To think is to exist, they say. But what if thinking too much is a way of not being at all? Overthinking steals the moment, turns the simple into a maze, fills the quiet with noise. And then—the pause. A break in the current. A deep breath, a touch against the skin, a feeling without a name. The fine needle resting on the body, the inhale and exhale, the silence between one thought and the next—that is where life is. It is not about banishing the mind but teaching it to stay. To let it be without devouring. Because in the space between thoughts, life happens.

I am almost certain we could say that hygge represents a hypo-egoic state of mind. The sense of comfort, contentment, and connection it fosters aligns closely with the non-entitlement perception of reality that characterises a hypo-egoic state. In hygge , the emphasis shifts away from self-importance and individual achievement towards a shared, present-moment experience—whether through simple pleasures, warm social bonds, or an appreciation of life's small joys. This surrender of ego-driven concerns in favour of collective well-being and mindful presence makes hygge not just a cultural concept but a psychological state that encourages humility, gratitude, and a deep sense of belonging.

Change stretches us, tugs at the edges of who we are, unsettling the comfort of the known. It urges us to step beyond the familiar and into the uncertain — a quiet disturbance, a necessary tremor. When you long for change, a touch of order makes all the difference. Begin with clarity: what is it you truly seek? And why? The reasons must be sharp, like light slicing through mist. Then, define your place within it. What lies within your reach, and what does not? There is wisdom in recognising the limits of control — expectations lose their weight when set upon unsteady ground. And finally, ask yourself: for whom do you wish to change? Some move to escape inertia, others to embrace something newly found. But no one transforms without cause, drifting without direction. Sometimes, the presence of others steadies us, their quiet support a force in itself. And when that happens, change — however daunting — ceases to be a rupture. Instead, it becomes an unfolding.

It is not quite true that there is a pill for everything. In the West, what we see most frequently are symptomatic treatments that provide temporary control. The idea of a pill that could solve everything at once and forever is not feasible — at least, not yet. Take, for example, mood and neurovegetative disorders. There is evidence that mood is influenced by several complex physiological axes, particularly the hypothalamic-pituitary-adrenal axis, the sympathetic-adrenal axis, and the microbiota-gut-brain axis. Any alteration in how these systems operate and communicate can impact mood. And, as they are evidently interconnected, the complexity is such that achieving complete pharmacological control remains highly unlikely. However, it is important to recognise that not all mental health issues require medication. There is a wide range of techniques and fields of study that can complement psychiatry, including psychology, physical education, neuroscience, and integrative med...

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 ...

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 ...