I have introduced a new weekly habit where I take myself to the library. On Saturdays I show up at the front door five minutes before opening, my sight on one of their comfy chairs. And after entering, together with 50 other humans seeking bibliosmia*, I find my seat, sit down, and begin writing. Sometimes I bring a chai latte, more often I wear a chic outfit, and every time make it into this dreamy weekend routine.

I don’t always feel motivated to write. Although I want to write the motivation to sit down and do so doesn’t always effortlessly show up. Especially if I don’t know what to write about. But I take action, I show up, and once I do, the motivation follows.

First and foremost, I want my dreams to matter to me. I want there to be time for them in this, so often, chaotic world.

For what is life, if we’re not tending to our own garden.

Your little dreams matter. Whether you wish to pursue writing, singing, painting or acting. Maybe your biggest desire is to dance ballet, although you’re clearly way past the best-before-date as a professional dancer. But the thing is, you don’t do it to pay your bills. You do it simply out of sheer joy.

Lately I have been guilty of asking ChatGPT whether a sentence of mine sounds good or not. I ask it to rewrite (if needed), and usually Chatty changes it into something near perfection. And it’s hard to resist not relying on him (yes my ChatGPT is male) for that impeccable excellence. But while the sentence turns into the beau idéal, my soul has vanished, the depth is gone, and I’m left feeling useless.

My purpose is not to write flawlessly in English (since my mother tongue is Swedish I would never ask that of myself). There are no doubt grammar mistakes lingering in every corner. However, writing from the heart, and letting the errors shine through, is what creates uniqueness, and certainly something that will help improve my writing over time. Not seeking perfection, but refinement.

I do want to be able to notice my own mistakes, and not always relying on Chatty to make it into something grammatically correct. I want to be able to trust my own marvelous brain.

So, while I am sitting here, in the library (no ChatGPT around) smelling the books, listening to people breathing, I am tending to my little dreams. All I wish is to create room for my little dreams to furnish curiosity, deservingness, and a little bit of fearlessness. Yet, I might throw in some imperfect sentences here and there, but at least they are my sentences, crafted from the heart.

So, while you’re out and about in the world today; tend to your garden; water your seeds and nourish your thoughts. The world needs diversity. The world needs your imperfect being fulfilling its purpose.

*the smell and aroma of a good book. to become wrapped up in the words, lost in new worlds, comfort in fresh ideas and absorbed in beautiful stories.