Wednesday. The last day of the year. Pensive.

Creatively, emotionally, geographically – 2025 was a good year. Was I happier than the year before, or just less unhappy than during any of my other sixty-two spins around the sun? I honestly don’t know. Joy is assessed differently now. Elle coming home for dinner a few times a month – that’s happiness. Waking up and feeling healthy and steady – that’s another win. Drifting back to sleep early in the morning with Charlotte wrapped around me – that’s a rare kind of calm.

I keep on keepin’ on. One day at a time. I don’t hunt happiness the way I used to. I try to catch the small, ordinary bliss instead. Happy Islands, I call them.

Because I juggle several book projects in parallel, it just worked out that we released four books in 2025: Malmö, Fears & Phobias, Österlen, and Abandoned – The Beauty of What Remains. The bestseller was the photo book Malmö – 490 of 500 copies sold. And once again: a big thank you for the help I’ve gotten from Charlotte and Maestro David Pahmp. This spring, a new book arrives – photographs from safaris in South Africa, Botswana, and Kenya.

The travels.

This year, I finally got to experience and document a couple of places I’ve carried around in my head for a long time: Hiroshima early in the year, and Svalbard in May. The contrast is almost tangible.

In total, during 2025, I checked into 34 different hotels in seven countries. A lot of those rooms were genuinely great – especially the ones with real mattress toppers. There should be legislation for them once you’re past fifty.

And then there were the others. Roughly a third of the rooms left plenty to be desired. Like, most recently, the Riverton in Gothenburg – where at least ten different design styles had been tossed into a blender with zero thoughtfulness, and the room felt bare, cold, and oddly put together. In my next life I’ll become a hotel-room designer – unless I come back as an albatross.

One of the year’s best trips took us to France. Elle and I celebrated Charlotte turning 60 with a beautiful hike along the French Riviera and a delicious dinner in old Nice – exactly the way my gorgeous sixty-year-old wife wanted it. She also got a lovely Danish ring. She deserved it. Anyone who lives with me through sunshine and sideways rain deserves some serious hardware.

My longing for the U.S. is still… lukewarm. Maybe I’ll wait until the most vile, corrupt, and pathologically narcissistic president in history – and his brainwashed choir – have cleared out of D.C.

This year, my half-siblings and I unfortunately lost contact completely. They’re tightening their grip on their tribes. If there’s one thing travel keeps teaching me, over and over, it’s that we have far more in common than what separates us – at least once we’ve peeled off the fairy tales and legends. Not to mention dogma and propaganda.

As Joni put it: “But I have no nationality, no race, no class. I’m a mutt.” And she sang it too: “Borderlines – roads, fences, they’re like cholesterol in the arteries.”

On the brighter side, I’m close with cousins on both my mom’s and dad’s side.

New year’s promises

I’m a believer in New Year’s resolutions – as long as we’re honest about what they are: lofty promises. At 62, I’m “fully baked.” So I keep my expectations realistic. I’m not about to become a different person overnight. A few degrees of course correction is plenty.

I usually do my reboot a week or so into January. It suits me better than making vows on the very night when champagne and sentimentality are doing their own little tango. The important thing is that you try. The attempt counts.

Not a resolution exactly, but intentionality will be my word for 2026. Which sounds contradictory, since I love embracing serendipity and often roll the dice whenever I can.

But something shifted after my most recent trip to Japan. I noticed the Japanese level of purposefulness – how little they do on autopilot, how rarely anything is half-assed – and how that mindset seems to seep into so much of daily life. Fascinating. Infectious.

In 2026, I want to stay clear of the smug, the stingy, and the ones who ration warmth and emotions. I want to be more open, more generous, and a few notches more humble.

Wishing everyone a truly Happy New Year, with health, and a lot of adventures we can inspire each other with.

Never give up. Never do nothing.

(Photo: Charlotte Raboff)