A Christian philosopher

My name is Damian Maxson — a pen name closely tied to my real identity. Damian, a name I also carry outside the digital world, has biblical roots and means "the mighty one". The surname Maxson follows a Nordic tradition: the father's first name becomes the son's last name. My father was called Max — and as his fourth son, Maxson felt like a fitting choice.

I am the youngest of four brothers. Born on 19 February 1973 in Grächen in the Matter valley in Valais — a beautiful sun terrace in the middle of the magnificent Swiss Alps, where the Matterhorn stands, the most beautiful and most famous mountain in the world. A paradise on earth. And still I have always been a deep thinker — always trying to discover what is hidden between the lines.

My mother's name is Anna — and if we stay in the biblical context, that means: the mother of mothers. My mother is now 90 years old — and my heart's desire is to grant her a serene evening of life: for as long as God grants it, she may remain in her own home — the place where her whole life has come to rest.

But before you read on, you should know where I really come from.

60 cigarettes a day — a chain smoker. 130 kilos on the scale. For years closer to alcohol than to life-giving spring water. A pornography addiction — like so many. Sugar addiction — the most inconspicuous of them all, but over time just as dangerous. And for years on the edge of bankruptcy, with the abyss right in front of my feet. On top of that, over 40 years in inherited depression — a legacy I had not ordered, but which knocked on my door anyway. Twice I tried to end my life. Twice God said no. Then came the stroke — and I left that behind me too.

There is the addictive type. And there is the type who simply enjoys. I was the addictive type — and if you recognise yourself in that, you know what I am talking about. Whoever knows himself can do the right thing. Whoever does not know himself fights the wrong enemy. And whoever honestly asks whether pleasure has slowly turned into a need — he too is in the right place here.

I do not say this to shock. I say it because it takes courage to speak the truth about yourself — and because I know that you may know the same thing and stay silent. This blog does not come from an ivory tower. It comes out of the abyss — and out of the way that leads from it.

Today, at 53, I stand on a stable foundation. Not because I am strong. But because I have learned what one has to stand on. The addiction is defeated. The depression is defeated. The weight is gone. The chain of nicotine is broken. Alcohol has been said farewell. I have outrun the greed of gluttony. Instincts are finally under control. And fear? It is a welcome help — it no longer steers anything in me. In the last 12 years I have become younger — because I was able to leave all of this behind and today feel full of strength and energy.

I like to call myself a Christian philosopher — because that term best describes my unceasing search for deeper understanding and my faith. What I share on these pages are not theories. They are scars that were allowed to heal — and a way that is open to you too.

And at the end, only one thing remains: thankfulness. Thank you, Jesus Christ, for making all of this possible. This path is not my work — it is your grace that carried me.

In gratitude, Damian