If someone asked me what I would really like to do in my life, I wouldn't primarily chose to be a doctor. I would be a wife, a mother, and an author. I would live somewhere beautiful where the air is fresh and I would type my words.
English is something I've learned, it's in my brain... I use it to communicate the best that I can. But typing in Swedish... there's this sense that I have and I use it with pleasure... to manipulate, if you like... language to evoke feelings and thoughts... laughter... Not a unique, but special ability that I've aquired solely by growing up into being me, with all the things that contributed to that. I not only want to, or think that I should, but feel as if it is my pursuit to pedantically write things down before I perish one day.
Daily do I feel inspired to save away phrases for my future novel. I don't know anything about it... really nothing, except that I'm going to write it. These are just fragments; incidents, similies or dialogues... But I don't write them down, I'm postponing something and nothing, and my ideas are lost to probably never be re-thought of. I'd like to spend my time and thoughts more wisely, and have a something with me always where I can easily write my ideas down. My phone would be something, wouldn't it? I'm too lazy to type it there! Please me, work with me.
Meanwhile, I'm becoming a doctor. A profession which I've chosen based on purpose, personal interest and economical security. Something I want to become, almost as much as a spouse, a mother and an author. The amazing part is that things just have to be done, in order to be done. And that if I want, just as anyone, I could achieve all of it.
Question for my readers, what is your dream?