The Ship of Theseus, e.g. Your Character ⚓

May 13, 2025

Hey there,

As some of the readers here know, I graduated from uni last year, then returned back to Sofia from Glasgow, after having spent some time on and off living between the two cities. It feels almost a lifetime ago at this point, even though not too much actual time has passed. 🕑

I sometimes remind myself of random moments during the few years spent there — the first student meals I made myself, the long nights spent doing assignments, the feeling of too much caffeine and too little sunlight in the winter. Sometimes it feels like it was another person doing all those things — as in, I can't imagine having to go through the same struggles today, even though I did go through them already, as an even younger and more inexperienced version of myself.

This, for me, resonates with the paradox of the "ship of Theseus" — basically, if you take a ship, and start changing its parts with new ones, one by one, at what point does it stop being the same ship? Does the identity lie in the wood, the sails, or the story it carries?

It's the same question that seems to strike me every time I see a memory from my time at Glasgow — am I really the same person I was there? Is the me in Sofia right now, with my routines, my Bulgarian social circle, my current sense of purpose, slipping further away from the Glasgow version of me? What are the threads connecting those versions, and what is their importance?

Where "the real you" really lives

Turns out, modern neuroscience mostly agrees: the brain physically rebuilds itself over time, on a cellular level.

Neurons switch up their old connections and grow new ones in response to coffee-fueled study sessions, new and exciting people around you, and yes, those doom-scroll study breaks when you realise you'd been grinding for hours at a time. So maybe that's where the "ship of Theseus" exists — in the continuous thread of adaptation that ties those moments together. ⚓

If every habit you drop, every new skill you pick up, reshapes your identity, then it's easy to feel detached and uncertain of your identity. But here's the counter — you get to choose the course of action for your ship. You choose the "planks" to replace next — whether that's swapping reading paper books to listening to audiobooks, or trading a half-finished side-project for a full-on career move.

So in this line of thought, this is what I did to ground myself, or at least try to, in a less abstract sense of "me":

1. Write a list of things that somewhat define you — things you enjoy, things you hate, current and past hobbies, etc.
2. Try and find common patterns or logical progressions in things — maybe your hobby of drawing as a kid progressed into a love for coding, which could still be a form of creativity, just in a different shape.

And anyway, that was my bit of rambling for the week — can't wait to see what existential crisis I'm gonna dive into next week. 🤯

Weekly Insights

• The past couple of weeks for me, as you could probably tell, have mostly been spent working and trying to reconcile myself — as the summer grows near, I feel more and more a specific "dread" that time is running out; which is why I currently try to focus on activities that make me feel present, and a bit happier in the present moment too — like meditation, deep work, working out, etc. 🧘
• On the pics — some of the things that filled my cup these days:
  • Went to the Sofia Lunar festival with my sister, to enjoy the cool art being projected on Sofia buildings.
  • Took some time to manage the plants on my balcony — it's nice to see sprouts like that, as they're the perfect example of work that takes time and doesn't show immediate feedback.
  • Spent a Sunday doing this small 3D print project — a replacement for a part of my office chair that broke down (the part ended up breaking as well a week later, but it helped me figure out its points of failure and how to make it better the next time). 🏗️

Book Highlight: Thirst / Жажда

Thirst / Жажда is a short story by Bulgarian novelist Zachary Karabashliev and illustrated by Damian Damianov. The illustrations are usually not crucial to a book, but in this case, they are all made to look watercolor-ish and almost like spilt coffee, which greatly improves on the total vibe of the story.

The story focuses on a young man going into the hospital after a biking accident. There he meets an older blind man, and they exchange life stories and talk philosophy.

It's a "conflict of generations" type of conversation, but also an inspirational call to experience life more fully and try to build your own purpose within it. For my Bulgarian readers, I'd strongly recommend it specifically, since it ties in with some of our nation's psychology in a neat way. A hidden gem of a book really. 💎

Worth Watching This Week

What Actually Matters in Your 20s by Productive Peter — a calm, well-paced reminder that most of the "big decisions" matter less than the small ones you repeat.

The dangerous rise of Serious Young Men by Newel of Knowledge — a thoughtful cultural read on what gets lost when ambition stops being playful.

Closing Thoughts

Till next week, stay safe, stay curious, and keep kicking. ✌️