Shalom! My name is Trygve and I’m 26 years old. I’m a teacher turned physiotherapist, come, follow, get to know me, padawans.
Now, this is a story all about how my life got flipped – turned upside down. And I’d like to take a minute, just sit right there, I’ll tell you how I became the fresh prince of a university called OsloMet.
It’s not the most peculiar of stories, certaintly not worthy of a deliberate clickbait article on buzzfeed, but a great story none the less. One could, I suppose, draw parallels between my story and that of Pip from Charles Dickens universally acclaimed buildingsroman ‘Great Expectations’, except my story contains neither poverty, prison ships, chains nor fights to the death. Luckily I grew up in a loving familiy, with a mother and father present, therefor upon further consideration Pip and I might not have that many similitaries after all. Damn. However, Philip Pirrip’s story is an all to well known heroic battle from rags to riches, the very epitome of the american dream, except Pip grew up in Kent, England, which to this day is a rather bleak sh*thole that I would strongly discourage anyone to visit. With a little benevolence, my story can also be told in such a manner, except of course, I’ve been incredibly privileged to grow up in a middle class home with a constant reminder from my parents that I can become everything I want. From astronaut to prime minister – zero limitations except those imposed by my very own imagination. By performing an ol’ switcheroo, the similarities between myself and Phillip Pirrip can be drawn out; I end where Pirrip’s journey begins, likewise he ends up where I began. Jeeez louis, we just switched places! Pirrip started out with nothing and managed to make quite the stout gentlemen of himself, I on the otherhand started out with everything and have slowly been spiralling down the rabbit hole throwing away one oppertunity after the other, the probability of an occupation as astronaut now a mere distant dream. Which is why Young Carl $agan ended up just here, at the university with the somewhat pretentious yet charming name, OsloMet, to study physical therapy. I’m very satisfied with the outcome though, I really enjoy studying physical therapy and my interest in the field is ever-growing, but it’s of course a contrast to the aspirations of floating around in space to the title track of Spiritualized’s brilliant album “ladies and gentlemen, we are floating in space”. You guys care for a fun fact? Sure you do. Neil Armstrong’s footprints on the moon will likely stay there for atleast 100 million years. My footprints in the field of physiotheraphy? At best transitory, but one must dream BIG! (Major key alert!!!!)
Why did I end up chosing physical theraphy as my gesheft you might ask? The answer lies in a innate desire to find meaning in the meaningless. Being a existensialist, I thrive to create meaning in order to live passionately and sincerely. Søren Kierkegaard, whom many consider the first existential philosopher, proposed that each individual is solely responsible for giving meaning to life. And I truely believe that an occupation who’s sole purpose is to help other people with the difficulities in life, is as meaningful as can be. Also my chances of exploring the universe for the better of mankind are rather slim now, so I decided, as the NBA players put it, “to take my talents to OsloMet”. Maybe one day I can facilitate space exploration by giving astronauts top treatment. My footprint will never be on the moon, but it might be imprinted in the very muscles that future astronauts walk the moon with. DOPE! yeet! When I don’t beat myself up for not becoming an astronaut, I like to spend my time with friends, doing rock climbing, drinking beer or listening to and playing music. Sometimes all at the same time (woah..)
Oh, and a few weeks ago an old lady at the store said that I look like a young version of Thor Heyerdahl, so I got that going for me, which is nice .
