From inside my Bubble

Born in Sweden. Raised with meatballs, midsummer, Absolut Vodka, “skärgård”, and moose looking at little red houses from inside the woods. Raised with peace and quiet, but with weather that can never be trusted.

I guess it’s always hard to appreciate the good things in life if you have nothing to compare it to, and I have realized that later on.

When I was a kid my grandfather used to tell me, “din vilja växer i lingonskogen” (your wishes are growing in the lingonberry forest) every time i wanted something I couldn’t have. I always wondered what the hell my wishes were doing over there, so at some point I decided it’s time to go and get them. My path led to me leaving Sweden when I was 20, like so many others; to backpack around the world and attempt to “find myself”, somewhere there deep in the lingonberry forest.


It is funny how life takes you to weird places when you let it, and you end up finding yourself were you never thought you would be. Sometimes that means places you barely knew existed, and sometimes it is places in your own backyard, that was right under your nose the whole time, and you never noticed.

At the age of 27 I am finding myself living in Israel, for a few years already. That was never part of any plan of mine, until it became my plan at some point in time.

These days I live surrounded by falafel, hummus, Arak, matkot on the beach, and an interesting mix of different religions, colorful pride parades, and camels in the desert.  It is rarely peaceful and quiet, but we can usually trust the weather.

Like with people, places can be so very different from each other, and still all be good and bad in their own way. There is so much to love everywhere, if you let yourself see and listen.

I sometimes wonder; if I had never left my peaceful Sweden, would I still have learned to appreciate the same things that I appreciate now? Maybe yes, maybe no. Would I see things from a different perspective than what I do today? Probably yes, but what it would be I don’t know. It doesn’t really matter anyway, because by tomorrow today will only be another stepping stone, just like yesterday, all leading the way to that damn forest where my wishes are supposedly growing among the berries.

“Discovery consists not it seeking new lands, but in seeing with new eyes” – Marcel Proust

// Veronika