B r a i n C l e a r

Sorting through life one thought at a time

Tag: stockholm

  • My friend Sussi is a DJ.

    Not in the she likes music and occasionally DJs at a friend’s party kind of way.

    She’s Acid Sussi.

    She’s been playing clubs and events around Stockholm for years. She’s played Boiler Room. She and her longtime partner have a DJ duo called Solid Sliders, and they just put out a track called “Get Ill.” And more than a decade after she started doing it, she’s still out playing on weekends.

    I find this ridiculously cool.

    But here’s the thing.

    I knew her when she just had the records.

    So. Many. Records.

    We met in school, although I don’t remember exactly when we went from knowing each other to really becoming friends. What I do remember is that music was always a huge part of who she was. She loved vinyl and, for as long as I can remember, wanted to DJ.

    And then she actually did it.

    There’s something really wonderful about watching someone you love actually do the thing they talked about doing when they were young.

    Sussi and I have a lot of history long walks that turned into long talks, all-nighters spent talking and dancing in equal measure, raves we found our way to together. There are entire pieces of my younger life that have Sussi in them.

    And after all these years, she’s still one of the people I can talk to about absolutely anything.

    And when I say talk, I mean talk.

    We can take one subject and disappear into it for hours. We don’t just exchange opinions and move on we dig, we question, we turn a thing over until we’ve looked at it from every angle. One thought leads to another and suddenly we’ve spent hours on something most people would have wrapped up in twenty minutes.

    She also knows me well enough not to simply tell me what I want to hear. If I come to her with something difficult, I’ll get the love. I’ll get the understanding. And then, somewhere in there, she’ll ask a question that makes me stop and reconsider the whole thing.

    And now the friend who has always been willing to dig a little deeper has officially become a therapist.

    This year, Sussi graduated from Karolinska Institutet and is beginning an entirely new chapter in her life.

    She’s had quite a few chapters already. She’s been a hairstylist. She studied psychology. She became a UX designer. She became Acid Sussi.

    And now she’s a therapist.

    Who’s still a DJ.

    Of course she is.

    What I love about her story is that she never seems to have discarded an old version of herself to make room for the next one. The psychology student didn’t replace the girl with the records. The UX designer didn’t replace the DJ. And becoming a therapist isn’t going to make Acid Sussi disappear.

    She just kept adding chapters.

    And the more I think about it, the more I suspect neither the DJ nor the therapist is really a new version of her. They were both there all along the girl surrounded by records who wanted to make people dance, and the friend who could spend hours talking about life, people, and why we do the things we do.

    I remember the records.

    I remember the long conversations.

    I remember the dancing.

    And now I get to watch one of my closest friends begin yet another chapter of her life.

    I’m incredibly proud of the therapist she’s becoming.

    I love the friend she’s always been. ❤️

    And I still think it’s pretty damn cool that she became the DJ.

  • When Efficiency Met the South

    I didn’t just move from Sweden to the United States. I moved from Stockholm to St. Marys, Georgia. Looking back, I’m not sure I could have picked two places that were more different.

    I thought the biggest adjustment would be speaking English every day. It wasn’t. It was discovering that I had landed in a place with a completely different rhythm.

    In Stockholm, the checkout line is all about efficiency. You pack your own groceries, and you’d better be done by the time the cashier has scanned the last item, or the customer behind you might start getting impatient. There isn’t much small talk because everyone has somewhere to be, and the goal is to get through the line as quickly as possible.

    St. Marys was a completely different experience. The cashier knew the customer in front of me, and they chatted about family, church, the weather, someone’s tomato plants, pretty much anything and everything. Meanwhile, another employee packed the groceries while I stood there wondering if we’d ever get to the part where I actually paid. I remember thinking, “Are we still checking out?”

    At the time, it drove me crazy. I wasn’t used to it, and if I’m being honest, I just wanted to grab my groceries and go. But somewhere between Stockholm and St. Marys, my perspective changed.

    Today, I smile when I think about those checkout lines. I’ve realized they were never just about buying groceries. They were about taking a few minutes to acknowledge another person, catch up with a neighbor, or simply make someone’s day a little brighter.

    Somewhere between Stockholm and St. Marys, I learned that not everything has to be efficient. Sometimes, slowing down long enough to connect with another person is the whole point.

    Although I still silently hoped nobody brought up tomato plants when I was buying ice cream.

  • The Cost of Chasing a Dream

    Most people talk about following your dreams as if it’s an inspiring quote printed on a coffee mug.

    What they don’t talk about is what gets left behind.

    Leaving family, lifelong friends, a successful career, financial stability, and the comfort of knowing exactly where you belong is rarely romantic. It is messy, uncomfortable, and often terrifying.

    Recently, I came across the story of someone who made exactly that choice.

    He left Sweden, where he had built a successful career and a comfortable life, and moved to Atlanta to pursue acting. Not because it was practical. Not because it was guaranteed. But because there was a persistent feeling that there was something more he wanted to explore.

    I think many of us have a dream tucked away somewhere. Maybe it’s writing a book. Starting a business. Moving to another country. Learning a new skill. Changing careers. We tell ourselves we’ll do it when the timing is right.

    The problem is that the timing is rarely perfect.

    There will always be responsibilities, bills, obligations, and reasons to stay where it feels safe.

    What struck me most about this story wasn’t the acting itself. It was the willingness to accept uncertainty.

    Starting over means becoming a beginner again. It means building new relationships, learning unfamiliar systems, and facing the possibility that things may not work out the way you imagined. Most people focus on the outcome. Few talk about the courage required to take the first step.

    Success isn’t always measured by reaching a destination. Sometimes it’s measured by having the courage to begin the journey.

    Whether the dream is acting, writing, entrepreneurship, travel, or something entirely different, there is something admirable about choosing growth over comfort.

    Because in the end, failure is often easier to live with than regret.

    And perhaps that’s the real lesson.

    Not everyone needs to move across the world to follow a dream.

    But all of us eventually face a choice between comfort and possibility.

    The question is: what dream are you still waiting to start?

    The story that inspired these thoughts can be found here:

    Read the full article here