Uppsala, Sweden | From a personal account, one of the highlights of my program is the winter school, an annual activity bridging the autumn and spring semesters. This year, it was held in an 18th-century estate called Krusenberg Herrgård Manor, rich in history of its own. There was too much anticipation and high hopes on my part about this, heck, it even was one of my top motivations for applying to this program. And it did not disappoint. Having experienced so many firsts for the last five months, the trend continued – trying out the Sjöporten sauna, dipping in the ice-cold Ekoln (Mälaren lake) thereafter, getting treated with some of the finest Swedish traditional dishes, walking around an apple orchard, and so on. Overall, I had a very nice time for the entire period.

We arrived in this peaceful haven on that cold January evening, with a warm welcome nevertheless. Little did I know, this first night will turn out to be something I never quite expected. The night was cold but calm, the bed was covered in thick warm sheets, the silence suggesting a deep sleep I so much deserve after quite a long flight and an anxiety-triggering covid test. After taking some moments to exchange hellos with fellow participants, wrapped the night up and went off to bed.

But that night went sideways. Long story short, I had a terrible nightmare; characterised by aimless running, clandestine hiding, and soundless screaming, deep within the reigns of my own consciousness.

The next day, I Woke up feeling restless. Then I went for breakfast but was surprised to be in a very familiar place,  finding out that I was, in fact, trapped in the very same nightmare, prompting for another round of runs and hides and screams again. 

Then I woke up, went for breakfast, not very surprised to be in the exact same place again, realizing that I was still in the same episode. The nightmare didn’t feel like a nightmare anymore, though. Perhaps, I got used to it. No more running, hiding, or screaming.

Then I woke up, had a nice breakfast, only to realize that I was still dreaming. A few more iterations of this loop, until I collected enough conscious effort to wake up, finally, for real.

Nightmares like this are like my fears for a lot of things, including those I was so afraid of having and losing i.e. the life I had prior to the one I live right now, I initially thought I could never have. I spent so many years spending life overcompensating for so many of those fears – stayed in my comfort zone, settled in for jobs I half-loved, for the Fear of ending up in a difficult place. I did have my dreams but never did something, for the fear of failing.

Fair enough, the nightmare was a trap I, at some point, chose to be caged. Sometimes we know we had to wake up, but we prefer to remain asleep. We made a decision to not risk for the fear of paying for it. So, we often got stuck, in a life that was not so terrible but not so great at the same time.

But waking up to reality, no matter how uncertain, is a much better choice, all the time.