Lights On – When We Dare to Live with the Lights On!

When Security Becomes a Cage

In the film, Christoff talks about how predictability had taken over his life.
I understand that feeling well. There’s a kind of exhaustion that doesn’t show on the outside — an inner emptiness that grows when every day feels the same, when dreams shrink into plans, and plans into routines.

I had what people call “a good life.” But something inside me was fading.
When I finally moved aboard Torus, I was mentally drained. The medication I was taking had silenced my emotions, made the world grey.

But there, among the wind, the water, and the whisper of the rigging at night, I began to recognize myself again.
The sounds — the frequencies — of life became my therapy.
I started to listen again, not to news or noise, but to the pulse of existence itself.

The Art of Being in the Unknown

Christoff reminds us in “Lights On” that the unknown doesn’t need to be feared.
It can be a doorway — to curiosity, to wonder, to rediscovering what it means to be alive.

Watching the film, I thought of all those who feel trapped in their own routines, longing for change but terrified of losing control.
We spend our lives planning everything, trying to eliminate risk — forgetting that life was never meant to be controlled.
It was meant to be experienced.

On my boat, I learned to live without guarantees.
I never knew what the weather would bring or what might break the next day.
But that’s what made every sunrise feel real again.
There was no autopilot — only awareness.

Presence as a Life Practice

Like Christoff, who found peace among South Africa’s open landscapes, I learned presence on a rocking deck.
Being present isn’t something you decide — it’s something that happens when you strip away everything unnecessary.
When only you, the elements, and silence remain.

That’s when the world turns itself back on — lights on.
Every sound, every movement, every person you meet suddenly feels real in a way that digital life never can.

I began to notice things I had long ignored — how light dances on the water, how the wind changes tone during the day, how the city breathes in rhythms.
And I realized that life isn’t about moving forward. It’s about standing still long enough to truly see.

Turning Away from Expectations

In the film, Christoff walks toward the horizon, camera in hand — not to produce, but to create meaning.
That image stayed with me.
Because I too turned away from what was expected — titles, career ladders, fixed addresses.

I chose to follow something unmeasurable: intuition.
And just as Christoff found his freedom in the wild, I found mine in movement — between sea and land, between Sweden and Bulgaria.

Today, I live in Bansko, at the foot of the Pirin Mountains.
From my window, I watch the peaks change color with the seasons.
I hear church bells, children’s laughter, and the quiet breath of the mountains.
It’s a different kind of freedom than the one I found at sea — but it’s built on the same foundation: simplicity, awareness, and authenticity.

From mast to mountain — the journey continues.

The Light That Guides the Way

Lights On is not really about travel.
It’s about awakening — to ourselves, to life, to the present moment.
It’s about realizing that freedom isn’t a place on the map, but a state of being.

When I watch the film, it speaks to the same part of me that once dared to leave Sweden behind.
The unknown can be terrifying, but it’s also where life truly begins.
When you stop resisting the darkness, the light returns from within.

Freedom always comes with a price — loneliness, uncertainty, distance.
But in return, you gain something far greater: meaning.

Light in the Dark

I believe we all carry an inner light.
Sometimes it gets dimmed by noise, fear, or routine.
For me, that light returned on the sea. For Christoff, it was in the Karoo desert.
For others, it might come during a walk, a heartbreak, or a quiet evening alone.

It doesn’t matter where — only that we allow it to happen.

When I left Sweden, I had no map — just faith that life needed to breathe again.
And when I look back today, I see that every uncertain step led me closer to who I was meant to be.

Reflections of Life

Justine du Toit and Michael Raimondo, the creators behind Reflections of Life, have built something far deeper than a film studio.
They’ve created a sanctuary for reflection — a space that reminds us of our shared humanity.

Their work captures a universal truth: that we are all connected.
Through their films, they invite us to slow down, to look around, to feel again.

They even created a 52-card deck inspired by their films — each card a meditation on curiosity, creativity, and presence.
It’s a gentle invitation to rediscover the wonder of simply being alive.

A New Chapter

Today, I live a simpler life.
In Bansko. Mountains outside my window.
I write, I create, I build ideas — and I live slower.

This isn’t a pause. It’s a beginning.
I still follow my inner compass, just as Christoff follows his camera.
And every time I see the sunrise over Pirin, I whisper the same words to myself:
Lights on. Life on.

Because life isn’t about reaching a destination.
It’s about lighting the path where you stand.

Reflection

“Lights On” is not just Christoff’s story — it’s a mirror for all of us who’ve dared to step outside the norm.
To live fully requires courage, but also humility before what we cannot control.

I often think about how the wind once carried Torus across the water.
Now, it’s the mountains of Bansko that carry me forward.
The freedom feels the same — only the landscape has changed.

And perhaps that’s the greatest truth of all:
Life isn’t about getting there.
It’s about finding yourself along the way — and daring to turn the light on.