This summer, I made a decision that would change me forever—a decision to challenge myself in a way I never had before. I bought a one-way ticket to Bulgaria, with Pirin National Park and its majestic mountain peaks as my goal. Two summits were on the agenda, but reality proved more challenging than I could have imagined. Two peaks, but only one I managed to conquer. The other, Koncheto, remains unconquered—so far. But this isn’t the end. I think a lot about who I am at 62 and how I’ve found the courage to keep going, to keep fighting, despite all the obstacles.
Ten years ago, I was a completely different person. I was in a deep depression that led me to leave everything and move onto a sailboat. It was my salvation and my therapy, my chance to slowly phase out medication and let my soul heal. I left friends behind, friends I naively thought I meant something to. At night, I sometimes collected cans to make ends meet, but often gave them to someone who needed them more than I did. I was at rock bottom, staring up at the surface, often wishing I could just close my eyes and stop breathing, like a crushed Terminator in the final scene when the light slowly fades from its eyes. That’s how I felt.
Life onboard was tough at times. Having heat and cooked food every day required constant effort. In winter, I often woke up to the sound of ice scraping against the hull, always fearing that water would seep in. Several times a day, I checked for leaks. I remember one night when the power went out, and the temperature dropped to three degrees inside the boat. It was hard, but it was my reality, and slowly I began to allow myself to feel better, to let go of the depression. Strange, isn’t it?
I started working again, without any ambitions of returning to the rat race of my career. I accepted jobs no one else wanted—I cleaned public toilets and met the city’s more or less downtrodden. Men and women who sold their bodies for drugs, and others who had once held good jobs but had fallen out of the system for various reasons. The encounters and conversations were shocking but also a lesson. I saw how easy it could be to take that final step into darkness, but I chose to climb upward. Meditation became my salvation, a place where I visualized who I was and where I wanted to go.
But even when I thought I had recovered, life continued to throw new challenges my way. After a major event abroad in 2011, where I was in charge of production, my heart started racing uncontrollably. There were several emergency hospital visits, and eventually, it was determined that I needed an ablation, where the heart’s wall is frozen to correct the faulty signals causing the chaos I was experiencing. I remember the morning when I still lived on my sailboat and took the tram to the hospital for the procedure. The operating room looked like something out of a sci-fi adventure. I declined sedation and chose to stay awake, as I always do—I want to feel everything, even when it hurts.
The procedure lasted four hours. Suddenly, I heard a voice saying, “Now we’re just going to restart you.” The realization hit me like a punch in the gut. They were going to stop my heart. I would be dead for a minute. The light went out in my brain, and when it came back on, it was all over. I was wheeled back to my room, alone with my thoughts. A nurse my age took care of me, and we argued non-stop during the hours I had left at the hospital. When she forced me to walk a long corridor with a squeaky IV stand, I made it my revenge. The squeak echoed through the entire ward, and when I returned, she was red with irritation while the other nurses laughed. I felt satisfied.
I was discharged that same evening, took the tram home, and reflected on what I had been through. But the problems were not over. During the pre-op X-rays, doctors had discovered changes in my left lung. I was called back and sat in a waiting room full of people losing their lives. I was angry, frustrated, and didn’t want to be there. When I met the doctor, I bluntly asked, “What the hell am I doing here?” She explained calmly, and I realized something could be seriously wrong. My thoughts swirled, but I chose to rely on their expertise and continue living my life as I wanted, despite the uncertainty.
Looking back on all this, I see a common thread—a journey filled with both falls and rises, but always with a determination not to give up. That’s why now, at 62, I face new challenges. Like climbing mountains in Bulgaria or daring to dive into love again, as when I reconnected with an old flame from 2007. After years of sporadic contact, we met again, and we found a mutual love that took me to Bansko, a place that has become my own Eden. Waking up with a view of the Pirin Mountains and feeling peace is a gift. Here, my soul feels good, and here I want to stay.
As I approach the opportunities of retirement, I am determined to live my life as I wish, where I feel my best. I refuse to settle for Sweden’s collapsing pension payments that are inadequate for those of us who have been entrepreneurs, freelancers, or self-employed. I seek a new life, one where I can continue to be brave, where I can be myself, and where I can inspire others through lectures about courage and daring to defy one’s fears. My old life is scrapped, reduced to two moving boxes, and the most important things I own are already where they should be—Bansko. I am grateful and humble, and I do not look back at what dragged me to the bottom. Instead, I look forward, upward to new peaks to conquer.
I am whole again. The boat is gone, but I still sail — now on the open seas of life. I know that every day is a new chance to live fully, and I intend to make the most of it. For life is too short not to be lived with courage and passion, no matter our age, no matter which mountains lie ahead of us.
If I may give a piece of advice or five!
1. Change and Personal Development
Psychological Perspective: Radical life choices can be a form of self-therapy. They break patterns, provide new perspectives, and can be a catalyst for transformation.
Advice: Dare to break the patterns and environments that keep you stuck. Small steps matter, but sometimes a bigger shift is needed to start the healing process.
2. The Courage to Face the Difficult
Psychological Perspective: Consciously facing your fears instead of avoiding them is key to overcoming them. Exposure and acceptance are powerful tools in the psychological treatment of anxiety and trauma.
Advice: Stop running from what scares you. Sometimes, you need to feel the pain to heal. Be present, even when it’s uncomfortable.
3. Resilience - Rising After Setbacks
Psychological Perspective: Resilience is the ability to recover from setbacks. It can be strengthened by finding meaning in hardships and cultivating a hopeful perspective.
Advice: Build your inner strength by seeing setbacks as lessons. Take small steps forward, no matter how dark it feels. Resilience is not innate; it develops through experience.
4. The Importance of Self - Reflection and Meditation
Psychological Perspective: Self-reflection and meditation help us process emotions, gain new perspectives, and enhance our mental well-being. It’s a way to disconnect from the noise of the world and connect with ourselves.
Advice: Set aside time for reflection and calm. Meditation can be a powerful tool for reprogramming negative thought patterns and finding focus.
5. Leaving the Past Behind
Psychological Perspective: Letting go of the past and not getting stuck in what once was is crucial for personal growth.
Advice: Live in the present and allow yourself to move forward. Focus on what you can control and don’t let old wounds prevent you from living fully.
By Chris...
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