Not exactly as Oliver Norvell Hardy would have said it...

Anyone, who have had the pleasure to see any of the many films that Stan Laurel and Oliver Hardy (Laurel and Hardy, as they are commonly known, or for that sake Arthur Stanley Jefferson and Norvell Hardy, if we are to stay with the names they were originally given) made together, will have met the almost proverbial sentence, which Hardy happily subject Laurel to at almost any given occasion:

Well, here's another nice mess you've gotten me into.

And I think it is a very normal reaction, which is so close to us: when something goes wrong, we start looking for outer reasons, through which our own innocence has been led so badly astray.
But I think there is a much better way to do things: rather than looking for the reasons outside of ourselves, we should look for inner reasons instead. Not to say that we at all costs should find an explanation in which we ourselves were the reason why something happened, but usually, there's always something that could have been done better - if nothing else, it is always interesting to delve into the question: what could I have done differently to avoid things going as wrong as they did.
Hereby, we indirectly get to use our observations constructively. They are not to be used to point fingers at oneself. On the contary, they can prove invaluable when striving to avoid repeating unfortunate situations.
(Translated from Ikke lige som Oliver Norvell Hardy ville have sagt det..., originally published May 24, 2009)

On the topic of signs

Before the summer holidays, I had the pleasure of visiting the ARoS Museum of Modern Art in Aarhus, Denmark - and I have to admit that I share the museum's idea that it is not only a museum but also a mental fitness center. Just as, it is fair to say, many other excellent museums.
One of the biggest experiences I got was on the floor hosting the exhibition "No Man's An Island - The Satanic Verses", which presents works from the museum collections. And what made me particularly impressed was the Finnish artist Jani Leinonen's work, Beggars' Signs, which consists of framed signs, Leinonen has purchased from panhandlers in different cities.
I know that the museum in the accompanying text tells me that Leinonen hereby exposes "the world of art as a massive economic circuit" in a world, "where everything can be acquired for money: apparently even suffering people's cries for help."
Now I do not know how Leinonen has made his purchases - if I had been in his place, I would (because he could hardly bring all these people in a situation where they would be permanently without the need to beg) primarily have given a substantial payment for my contributors and have made sure that they would immediately have been able to produce a new sign. Thus I would just have been one of many who helped people who had fallen through the security net towards the bottom of society.
But I was most affected by a specific one of the signs displayed:

Excerpt from Jani Leinonen: Beggars’ Signs (2009-2015) ARoS Aarhus Kunstmuseum

Skiltet var angiveligt indkøbt i Los Angeles og bar teksten:

PLeaSe HeLP
Need Money For clothes And Haircut to Look For A Job.
Am willing to work Hard.
Ready to change My Life.
Need HeLP to stART
Thank you!

Now, I'm not rich enough to be able to afford a profound change in the lives of another human being - but this sign immediately gives me greater desire to make a difference to the one who made the sign. Not giving money - but by taking them out and organizing a haircut and some clothes and by checking if I had someone in my network that would be able to use that person in a job. And then, keep in touch and find out how things went. It is far from certain that the beggar would get a bright and happy life out of it - but the sign shows a willingness that gives the viewer a hope that a penny spent here will make a greater difference than a penny spent on one of the other panhandlers.
And as a final point: I do not agree with the accompanying text that "by purchasing material instead of producing it, Leinonen undermines the idea of ​​the artist as the creature genius". Because it is Leinonen who has got the idea - and first of all, it is precisely him who has been the creative soul. Yes, he bought the signs - but other artists also buy their raw materials and put them together so they become art, right?
I have since read an interview with Erlend Høyersten, director of the museum, in the Danish paper Kristeligt Dagblad, where he mentions this work as one of five especially suitable for mental fitness because "it's a collection of panhandlers' signs and in most religions it is seen as a virtue to help others". At least it was mental fitness to my mind. And maybe it's my protestant upbringing, which means that I feel like a greater virtue in helping those who show the greatest willingness to make an effort to help themselves in the future.
(Translated from Noget om at skilte med noget, originally published August 9th, 2017)

What would I do?

Some time ago, I encountered the idea that it is advantageous to be able to form a fictitious "advisory board" for oneself: a panel of advisors that one respects and would like to be able to ask for advice in case of existential doubt.
The beauty of it is that since it is a fictitious panel, which one only keeps and asks for advice in one's own mind, it is possible to pick and choose between the living and the dead, or even between real and fictional people. Grundtvig, Einstein, Newton; even Sherlock Holmes and Jesus, if so desired. The idea is that in these cases of existential doubt, one should ask the advisory panel for advice, in order to set a clear path through the doubt.
It is not dramatically different from the people who have a single person to take into consideration, as in: "What would Jesus do?" - And basically it's just a matter of that one seeks connection to the side of one's own personality that one's perception of the advisor represents - it's all just something going on in the head of the seeker of advice.
To believe that it is possible to get an answer without introspection, without first seeking deeply within oneself, is simply to deceive oneself. Basically, there is only one person on the panel - the seeking person itself.
(Translated from Hvad ville jeg selv gøre?, originally published January 29th, 2011)