Thinking out loud: Florence Syndrome, catch-up friends and decluttering

Dear reader,

I’m currently reading The Art Thief by Michael Finkel, and he briefly mentions Stendhal syndrome. Have you heard of it? Also called the Florence syndrome, it’s a condition where beauty overwhelms the senses quite literally. Think heart racing, eyes blurring, knees giving in just from standing before a truly breathtaking work of art. It feels worlds away from our usually composed Swedish sensibilities. But oh, what a thing! To be so moved by beauty that your body simply cannot contain it.

The other evening, I biked home from a friend and decided to take the scenic route, the kind of small, impulsive choice that feels like a quiet rebellion against the ticking clock. Summer in Sweden is short and a little unpredictable, so when the air is warm and the light lingers, I try to meet it halfway.

I read an article the other day called The Rise of the ‘Catch-Up Friend, and it made me think a lot about my friendships. You know the kind—it’s the friend you meet, taking turns narrating the chapters of your life. “Here’s what’s happened since we last spoke,” back and forth, like a little tennis match of time. It’s far from the friendships of our younger days, isn’t it? When connection meant building forts, dancing badly at concerts, or simply existing side by side without needing much of a reason. But I don’t think these grown-up rhythms are wrong. In fact, I think they’re often the only way friendship survives the tug and pull of adult life. Still, the article is reminding me to ask: which friends do I want to do life with?

A gentle nudge to turn some catch-ups into something more.

Decluttering seems to be the buzz in the background of modern life and everyone has their ritual around it. I recently watched a video by Emily Elisabeth May (bonus: she has a very charming cat), and her method resonated with me. Rather than a strict purge, she suggests a soft decluttering—placing unsure items into a kind of “purgatory storage.” If you find yourself missing something, you bring it back. It feels less like saying goodbye and more like offering your things a thoughtful pause. Of course, this does rely on the luxury of having a bit of storage space but if you do, it’s a method worth trying.