By Sofia Samuelsson

To be incredibly consumed by a passion, to love something as dear as the gift of life, is a blessing and one that you should never forget.

On Friday August 22nd, my father, mother, farmor, and I, decided to take the 20 minute boat ride to a small island off the coast of Stockholm, fjäderholmarna, for our last day in Sweden. Many of the individuals on the ferry travel to the island in hopes to swim and eat licorice ice cream on a bright and sunny summer day. However, as overcast as it was on August 22nd, our experience would feel the utmost surreal and even more full of life than one could feel on a “perfect” summer day.

Small sit-down restaurants ran along the short harbor, the island as we arrived seemed close to deserted, too many unsettling clouds had creeped out. Lucky for me I have always seemed to enjoy rainy days.

However, if I'm completely honest, my heart was not with me. Like any other sophomore in college I was saddened by the stressful hustle and bustle of trying to figure out my whole life at the ripe age of 19. Trying not to let the day be ruined by my mood, I looked around. Taking in all five of my senses, I tried to remain present. Right now it wasn't the end of the world if I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life.

Walking through the rocky terrain, we began to stumble over roots and sleek rocks, ever so often taking in sweet swift drafts of cinnamon from the bakery just around the corner. Tempted by the treat, our noses began to sniff out its trace as if we were mice looking for cheese. Oh how I love a sweet treat! As we approached our destination a fork in the road presented itself. We faced two paths. Of course we have what we were searching for, our bakery with the delicious Swedish kannelbulle, but also another path which seemed to be an old run down garage. This new path, unlike the bakery, led to something unknown, mysterious; our only clue to what could lay inside was a faint echo of Italian opera that seemed to ring profusely out from under the door.

Taking a chance, we made the decision to wait to go to the bakery. Slowly opening the door we were struck with life, of passion, the sculptor who embodied what it meant to be in love with your work, the man behind the blasting music, was engrossed in perfecting his new blown glass teacup. Suddenly widening my gaze, I began to notice the stream of black graffiti that ran up, down, and all along the walls. To the right of this creator stood all his love, his works of art, that he had so delicately and meticulously worked at for years. Thousands of pieces, apples, vases, teacups, sculptures of humans, you name it, he had created out of something so simple, sand. It was all so beautiful, so breathtaking.

To me, walking into this scene, being able to see into someone's world was an experience I was grateful to come across. Not often do you see people going after their true passions. We are taught the importance of life lays on a timeline: marry by 30, make six figures, live in New York in your dream apartment, and maybe even own a cute rat looking dog. But we as a society are so wrong. Don't be fooled into falling into other people's dreams.

It's tempting to pick the easy decision, the known decision.

But are you satisfied?

Does it bring you joy or is it an easy way out?

There is so much more to life and experiences than what meets the eyes, maybe even the nose. Take some risks every now and then, see what drives you wild; see what makes your heart turn inside out. For goodness sake get on that boat ride! Whether you live on an island off the coast of Stockholm and make sculptures or not, make your life yours.

Key Terms:

Farmor: Swedish for Fathers Mother

Kannebulle: Swedish cinnamon bun, a sweet baked essential in every home

fjäderholmarna

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