Texts that stay in the body are not tied to a specific time. They are written once, yet carried through life – felt then, and felt still now. This post explores the enduring nature of writing that lives in the body and in memory
I wrote this text many years ago.
When I read it today, I hear the same voice, the same body, the same sensitivity.
I have changed, lived, learned so much since then –
but this particular text has stayed with me all the way.
It is still me.
That is why it is allowed to live here again.
🇸🇪 Read this post in Swedish ->Texter som håller i kroppen – då till nu
Texts that stay in the body – Then and Now
Sometimes we write texts that belong to a specific time.
And sometimes we write texts that don’t belong to any time at all.
This is one of those texts.
When I read it today, I feel it in my body in the same way as then.
Not as nostalgia – but as recognition.
There is nothing in it that rubs the wrong way, nothing I need to distance myself from or explain away. For me, texts that stay in the body are proof that some parts of us do not change – they simply deepen over time.
It reminds me that some things in us do not change,
they are simply carried forward through different stages of life.
I want to create a new space here on the blog for texts like these.
Texts from the past that still hold.
Texts that stay in the body – then and now.
Original text (written earlier)
Sunday morning, my family has woken up. I woke at 6:30.
Stayed in bed until 8, had my coffee and enjoyed the moment. Spotify on Eva D. for yet another day.
She is my time – the kind of music I had on my freestyle during the summers.
Eva is summer to me. Summer evening.
A summer evening in Kungsbacka, a summer day in Lerkil, Hanhals, Särö.
She is the sea.
She played in my ears on a grey day by the Kungsbacka river,
a pier without a boat, a sketchbook, charcoal …
The day I drew one of the best drawings I have ever made.
Sadly, it has disappeared over the years.
I was in love – unhappily in love – drawing my feelings,
sitting under a bridge in the afternoon,
Eva in my ears, charcoal on my hands,
tears running down my cheeks
and a body full of emotions.
Young love hurts. It rushes and roars, it is so big,
so unexplainable and strong.
It feels good to remember.
And it hurts when I think that my children, too,
are now at the age of these overwhelming years.
It is something we all must go through,
these waves of emotional storms rushing through the body.
They hurt, they surge slowly, quickly,
stirring everything in our then so inexperienced and fragile bodies.
A flood of emotions that make us
dizzy,
feverish,
wonderfully
alive.
As if teenage emotions weren’t enough –
all that insecurity and buzzing
swirling through a young person’s body.
I believe it is important that we remember
the feelings we ourselves had as teenagers.
It helps us, I think, to understand our teenagers.
And they also make us
whole,
safe,
into who we are today,
as adults.
They confirm how far we have come in
security,
calm,
that inner steadiness
that slowly settles in over the years …
🤍 Questions for you who are reading
- Is there a text you once wrote that still feels true in your body?
- What in you has not changed, despite everything that has happened?
- Which memories do you carry that still shape who you are today?
Between the lines
Some texts do not age.
They simply change bodies along with us.
Reflection
When I allow this text to take up space again,
it is not because I want to look back –
but because I now stand firmly enough to carry my whole self.
An image from a time when I was still running,
without really understanding why.
Yesterday has already come to rest in history.
Tomorrow is waiting further ahead.
But right now – this is where life happens.
Further reading
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