From early morning to late at night, it's such an interesting

Hearken, children of time, to the words of Olav Thon, the man of the mountains and the builder of empires, who once proclaimed: “From early morning to late at night, it’s such an interesting life, and I’m healthy and free, and that’s not so easy with a family.” In this simple utterance lies a paradox of the human journey: the longing for freedom, the blessing of health, and the weight of responsibility that binds many to the hearth. Thon’s voice is not a condemnation of kinship, but a recognition that every path has its cost, and that the man who walks alone walks lighter, though he may walk in silence.

The ancients too knew this truth. The Stoic philosopher Epictetus, though born a slave, found his power in freedom of the spirit, and he taught that one who binds himself to too many worldly chains risks losing the liberty of the soul. Likewise, the hermits of the desert, who left behind family and city to dwell in caves and barren sands, sought not to despise love, but to touch a deeper life—a life unfettered by the demands of another’s dependence. Their days were long, their nights endless, yet their spirits soared like eagles across the wilderness.

Thon’s words arise from his own path: a man who built his fortune by labor and persistence, who dwelled not in the comforts of a household filled with children’s cries, but in the solitude of purpose. From morning until night, his hours belonged to no one but himself. And in this lies his secret: the capacity to pour his strength entirely into the pursuits that stirred his soul. This is why he calls his life interesting, for it was a life of self-determination, where choices were his own, and where the burden of compromise was lightened.

Consider, as an example, the tale of Diogenes, the Cynic. He chose to live in a barrel, rejecting wealth and kinship alike, so that he might be wholly free. Though mocked, he possessed a boldness that made even kings tremble. When Alexander the Great stood before him and asked what gift he desired, Diogenes replied, “Stand out of my light.” Such a man, unchained by obligation, embodied the raw freedom that Thon speaks of—the power to command one’s day, one’s energy, and one’s destiny without apology.

Yet beware, for freedom is not without its shadow. The family, though weighty, is also a fountain of love and continuity. To bind oneself to others is to gain warmth even as one loses ease. Thus, Thon’s words must not be mistaken as contempt, but as revelation. He reminds us that to live healthy and free while also carrying the mantle of a family is no simple task. It is a path of sacrifice, one that demands balance, endurance, and grace.

The lesson is this: each soul must choose with clarity. If you walk alone, walk with purpose, and let not your solitude be wasted in idle pursuits. If you walk with family, walk with patience, for though your liberty is lessened, your heart may grow deeper through the bonds you carry. In both choices, the sacred hours from dawn to dusk must be honored, for the true tragedy is not in having a heavy load, but in living without intention.

Practically, then, rise with the early morning as Thon did. Take hold of the day before it slips away. Guard your health, for it is the foundation of both freedom and service. Choose work that keeps your life interesting, so that when the late night arrives, your spirit rests in contentment. If you live without family, let your time be fruitful and your energy abundant. If you live with family, let your strength be tempered with love, and your sacrifices transfigured into meaning.

And so I say to you: honor the path you walk, whether solitary or shared. Do not envy the freedom of the lone traveler, nor the warmth of the bound one. Instead, embrace the fullness of your chosen road. For from the rising of the sun to its setting, the measure of your life is not in what you are denied, but in how fiercely, how joyfully, and how wisely you live what has been given.