The dream of a new life

What would make you leave everything behind? Your home, your language, your entire life as you know it?

For 1.3 million Swedes between 1821 and 1930, the answer was survival. They crossed the Atlantic in cramped sailing boats at first, later in steamships, enduring storms and disease for weeks, because staying meant starvation. Sweden wasn’t always the promised land. We were once the desperate ones seeking a better future elsewhere.

And arrival in America didn’t mean the struggle was over. For most Swedish emigrants, years of backbreaking work awaited, clearing land, building homes from nothing, carving out new lives in unfamiliar territory. Their story lives in Vilhelm Moberg’s four-novel series The Emigrants, published between 1949 and 1959, perhaps the closest thing Sweden has to a national epic. Following one group’s journey from Småland to the Minnesota Territory, Moberg doesn’t romanticize their experience. The novels have also been adapted into films and the musical Kristina from Duvemåla, created by ABBA members Björn Ulvaeus and Benny Andersson.

Perhaps their courage is the lesson. When something truly matters, we find a way, through fear.

Your ocean

For a long time I believed that if something was meant to be, it would come easily. If it was too difficult, it was a sign to walk away. But our ancestors’ story taught me otherwise. They understood that some journeys are worth taking precisely because they’re difficult. The struggle itself prepares us to appreciate what we gain.

Most of us will never face choices that stark. If the only thing standing between you and your dreams is your own fear and self-protective thoughts, you’re fortunate. Your challenges may feel life-threatening, but they likely aren’t. That doesn’t make them less real to you, but it does mean you have a choice.

Here’s what I’ve learned: so much of what you want is on the other side of fear. But more importantly, so is the person you’ll become. When you face what scares you, when you choose the difficult path because it matters, you become someone capable of facing the next challenge, and the next. The courage and resilience you find become part of who you are. That’s the real prize.

When I catch myself struggling with too many possibilities, too many paths to choose from, I try to remember to send a thought of gratitude to my ancestors. They crossed oceans and endured years of hardship so that I could sit here and have the luxury of even reflecting about my choices.

Pursuing our dreams is how we celebrate being alive. It’s how we honour the journey our ancestors made, the risks they took so we could have the freedom to choose our path.

So what ocean are you being called to cross? What fear keeps you standing on the shore?

I’m asking myself these questions too. I don’t have all the answers, and some days the fear wins. But I’m learning that it’s okay to be afraid. The goal isn’t to eliminate fear, it’s to not let it be the only voice that decides.

Sometimes it helps to ask: what’s the worst thing that could happen if I put myself and my ideas out there? Often, the fear is bigger than the actual risk. And when I need perspective, I think about all the people who came before us, who faced their impossible choices with far fewer safety nets than we have. What they had was a decision that mattered enough to act despite the fear.

They crossed their oceans. You can cross yours.