Copenhagen Chronicles: The Corner Where Kierkergaard Fell Ill
The barista at the coffee shop said this is where Kierkegaard fell ill on the street and was taken to hospital. And died several days later. A fitting conclusion to my trip. Soren enjoyed his coffee. With an obscene amount of sugar. I think it helped fuel his prodigious literary output. Nearly 40 books in 13 years. I doubt I’ll read the 34 books I have of his in 13 years. Because reading his books is tied into the Bierkergaard podcast, it is a consistent and purposeful yet peaceful walk. If I didn’t enjoy it, I wouldn’t do it. Everything else about building a platform must be the cart being pulled by the horse of joy. Not the other way around. Tomorrow I fly out. Not sure I’ll ever be back unless the podcast becomes a bigger net. There are plans in Copenhagen to advance Kierkegaard scholarship at a more advanced level, and if God has a plan to have me be a part of it, I’ll be back. I have no overweening ambition. I really don’t. I’d like to thank all of you here...