The Hyggelig Journey

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On Loyalty and the Quiet Companionship of Pippen

I have a cosmopolitan friend who, by the mercy of chance — that discreet and impartial arbiter of destinies — was born in Serbia. Industrious beyond measure, he treats work not merely as obligation but as a quiet philosophy, a means of aligning oneself with the silent order of things. And he is a companion of a rare kind: steadfast, discerning, and, above all, loyal. His name is Pippen. We first crossed paths in the now-vanished days of Google+ — that fleeting agora where, for a moment, the world’s geeks entertained the gentle delusion that they might, in time, inherit the Earth. It was an age of bright aspiration, tinged with naïveté, yet marked by a peculiar fellowship that transcended all borders and conventions. Among Pippen’s many virtues, loyalty stands pre-eminent. Not the clamorous, performative loyalty so fashionable in this restless age, but the quieter, unwavering kind — the loyalty of one who stays. It is revealed not in grand gestures but in small, consistent a...

What Strength Truly Means: A Letter to Men

There exists, hidden in the quiet undercurrents of our culture, a grand illusion: that manhood is synonymous with silence, that strength demands the concealment of pain, and that the measure of a man is his ability to endure without faltering. Such ideas pass through generations like whispered codes, accepted without question, repeated without reflection. And yet, when held to the light of reason, they wither like old parchment, for they are not truths, but relics of fear. It must be said — and said without apology — that you are allowed to speak of what has wounded you. To give voice to pain is not to surrender to it, but to name it, to limit its dominion. Silence may seem noble in the moment, but over time it hardens into a cage. Words, carefully chosen and honestly spoken, are the first instruments of freedom. You are allowed to weep — not as an act of collapse, but as a testament to your humanity. Tears are not the language of the weak; they are the body's recogniti...

A Malicious Rejection of Education

There are moments — quiet, unbidden — when one pauses and wonders: how did we come to this? After centuries of inquiry, of minds that charted the unseen and hands that steadied the fevered, we now find ourselves in a peculiar and disquieting place. A place where truth is not refuted for want of evidence, but rejected for daring to inconvenience belief. The antivaxx movement is a malicious rejection of education — not a lapse in understanding, but a deliberate estrangement from reason. It perplexes, not for its novelty, but for its brazenness. This is not the soft silence of the uninformed; it is the clamour of the wilfully blind, adorned in the rhetoric of liberty and cloaked in a defiant performance of scepticism. Vaccines — the elegant product of scientific rigour and logistical triumph — are cast aside in favour of speculation, rumour, and the seductive pull of conspiratorial thinking. To refuse a vaccine is not an emblem of critical thought. It is, more often, a retreat...

Subtle Shifts, Lasting Weight

Are brief periods of instability silently driving weight gain? A new study suggests so — and acupuncture may offer quiet protection. Many assume that weight gain results from gradual, incremental habits — a slow, steady accumulation over time. But a recent study published in the International Journal of Obesity challenges this linear view. It uncovers something far more subtle: a substantial portion of fat gain occurs during brief, intense episodes — often unnoticed and almost always coinciding with periods of disruption. Holidays, job changes, illness, celebrations, or other transitional phases of life — these are the moments when energy balance is abruptly lost, caloric intake rises, and physical activity declines. Crucially, although these episodes are sporadic, their physiological impact can be long-lasting. As an acupuncture physician, I regard acupuncture as a valuable tool for navigating such critical junctures. Regular sessions help regulate sleep cycles, modulate a...

Accounting for the Invisible

It is once more that time of year — the season for gathering documents, for preparing the annual offering to the revenue gods. Tedious, draining, bureaucratic. Yes, all of that. But it is also a curious interval of observation, a quiet adjustment of memory’s lens. After all, the past year — or at least its more tangible husk — lies partially inscribed in these papers. I say partially, for what is captured on the page is a witness of uneven fidelity. Absent are the details, the reasons, the delicate chain of responsibility. The numbers are all there: the income, the transactions, the movement of capital. But backstage remains hidden — the weight of effort, the hush of a conscience at peace. What is left is a pale suggestion of something more vital — this elusive current we call money. Energy transmuted, but only faintly traceable. A flicker of something once vivid, now flattened by ink and deadlines. And so I sift through the papers. Not merely to comply, but to remember. To...

When the Cat Finds You

There’s a particular kind of weariness that follows me home from the clinic — not brute exhaustion, but the quiet fatigue that comes from focus and care. The sort born of holding space for others, of listening more with the body than the voice. A good sort of tired, but tired all the same. And then — the cat. Not in welcome, not in haste. Simply there. Somewhere between the hallway and the armchair, between the soft whirr of the microwave warming supper and the window. A presence. A still point. The day begins to settle. There is no need to explain oneself. No account to give. The cat does not demand. It watches. It knows — not all, but enough. Enough to follow, silently, as I move through the small rituals of arrival. Shirt off, water on, socks to the floor. And there they are, as though summoned not by command but by understanding. They don’t follow in the usual sense. They anticipate. They appear at the precise moment the body yields to stillness — as I lower myself into...