Etikett: Carina Ikonen Nilsson

Blog statistics and the rhythm of writing – reflection by the lake where thoughts and words flow freely.

Sometimes, blog statistics and the rhythm of writing aren’t about numbers at all — but about feeling.
This week, I’ve started to understand how my blog lives a life of its own — breathing, growing, moving on waves I no longer try to control.

Read this post in Swedish ->Bloggstatistik och skrivandets rytm – när orden blir till andning

Blog Statistics and the Rhythm of Writing – When the Blog Finds Its Own Voice

Something shifts when we dare to let go a little.
This week, I shared gently.
The PERMA model and the body-centered perspective in everyday life was posted once — and then allowed to rest.
But Dreams and Self-Reflection – When Life Becomes Learning got to travel a little further.

Perhaps because it reminded me of something essential:
When theory meets feeling, something real begins to happen.

And it did.

The Blog in Motion – and Google Comes Visiting

I can see now that the blog carries itself.
It moves — almost like a living being.
When I looked at my stats this week, I saw something that made me smile:
Google had found its way here — for real.

Over the past few weeks, 180 people have arrived through Google searches.
They searched for comfort, well-being, NPF, reflection — and somehow, they found me.

It feels almost unreal to think that my words find their own way out into the world.
That the blog has begun to speak with its own voice — and that Google has started to listen.

But it didn’t happen by chance.
It came through exploration, learning, patience — and a quiet curiosity about how things truly work.
In that process, I realized that knowledge doesn’t have to be hard or cold.
It can be soft, human, and alive.

Morning rhythm of writing – reflection and blog statistics at malix.se.

When Technology Meets Emotion

Sometimes it’s enough to simply float along — like when I swim in the lake.
The water moves gently around me, the sound of ripples merging with my breath.
And suddenly, everything becomes one — me, the water, and the moment.

It might sound strange to say this in a post about Google and statistics, but that’s how it feels:
The blog floats on the waves and basks in Google’s light.

It’s not the numbers that matter most — it’s the knowing that my words can be found.
That someone, somewhere, might search for exactly what I wrote in a quiet moment — and find it.

Blog Statistics and the Rhythm of Writing – Google on a Visit

This week’s stats looked much like before:
Daily views, readers from Sweden, the U.S., Ireland, and Australia.
But what matters to me isn’t the number — it’s the rhythm.

It lives.
It breathes.
And I’m beginning to understand how it all connects.

I learned that Google finds my blog through something called a sitemap — a map of everything I’ve written.
Each time I click “Publish”, a little signal is sent out:

“There’s something new to read here.”

It feels a bit magical.
Maybe that’s what I love most — that technology doesn’t have to be stiff or sterile.
It can be poetic.
It can breathe.

Blog Statistics and the Rhythm of Writing – Not Just Numbers

I’ve been blogging since 2009.
You’d think I’d know all of this by now — how Google finds posts, what a sitemap is, how analytics work.
But the truth is, I’ve spent more time writing than measuring.
More time telling stories than counting them.

And maybe that’s why I still love it — because even the numbers now feel alive, like proof that my words are moving out into the world.

Perhaps there are others who feel the same.
It takes time to understand how far our words travel, long after we’ve written them.

Maybe that’s why I still blog — because every time I think I’ve understood it all, something new appears to be learned — in writing, and in life.

FAQ – About Blogging and Endurance

How long does a blog usually last?
Most blogs live between 6 months and 2 years. Many start with inspiration, then fade when time or direction runs out.

How many bloggers keep writing after five years?
Only about 5%. Those who do often write from an inner need — not to chase followers or numbers.

What do long-term bloggers have in common?
They’ve found their rhythm. They write when something needs to be said, not when a schedule demands it.
They let their blog grow with their life.

Do you ever “finish” being a blogger?
Not really. Writing changes as life does. It’s the journey, not the destination, that keeps you going.

How long have you been blogging, Carina?
I started in 2009 — and sixteen years later, I’m still here.
That makes me proud.
Because with ADHD, where focus often shifts quickly, this is something I’ve carried with me all the way.
Maybe this is where my flow lives — in words, in rhythm, in the act of writing myself forward.

And maybe it connects with my studies in counselling.
Because both writing and therapy are about words — presence, listening, and language that can bring change.

Your advice to others who want to write for years?
Write when you need to, not when you should.
Let your blog be a place for breathing, not performing.
Follow what feels true — that’s where your direction lives.

I believe blog statistics and the rhythm of writing both tell the same story — of movement, presence, and life.

Also Read – Conversations, Healing, and Reflection

And for those curious about balance and well-being:

When Words Become Breath

I think I’m beginning to understand what this is all about.
To write, to read, to breathe — they all belong together.

Words have followed me for sixteen years, but only now have they started whispering back.
They’ve become my way to live, to listen, to understand — the world, and myself.

Maybe this is what it feels like to truly breathe.
Not because you must, but because you want to.

AHA

I realize that I’ve arrived — to the place where I begin to see how everything connects: words, technology, and trust.
I want to keep exploring, but at my own pace.
Not to perform — but to learn, in my rhythm, in my language.

Between the Lines – Where I Live

There’s a quiet pride here.
A feeling that I finally see the fruits of everything I’ve built since 2009.
I’m learning, understanding, still growing.

Maybe this is my way — never finished, always becoming.

“Yesterday has already settled into history, tomorrow waits a little further ahead.
But right now — this is where life happens.”
— Carina Ikonen Nilsson

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Autumn’s Quiet Days

Av Carina Ikonen Nilsson

den 17 september 2025

i Reflektion & självläkning, Vardag & familjeliv

The morning is still dark as the smell of coffee fills the living room. At first, I felt the words had dried up, but as the candles flicker, thoughts begin to move again. In this post I share a quiet autumn morning, the final garden chores, and reflections on how feelings and thoughts sometimes play tricks on us.

Read this post in Swedish ➜ Höstens stilla dagar

Autumn Morning in Stillness

It is still dark outside, the clock barely past dawn. Coffee steams in my cup while one lamp and two small candles light the room. I’ve been up for a while, but only now opened my laptop. It feels as if the words have run out, as if I am writing the last lines here for a while. Autumn has sighed its first breath, and I imagine its yellow leaves drifting even onto this blog.

But maybe that’s only a feeling. As if time has paused and the air itself stands still.

Thoughts Moving at a Slow Pace

The days go by. I do ordinary things. The ambitions I had before autumn quietly slid into a slower rhythm of not-doing. I feel stuck at home. Morning swims have paused, evening walks happen only on nights when I have the strength to join my husband – and not even every time. Perhaps illness is slowing me down, or maybe it’s simply time for rest.

The Greenhouse and the Garden’s Rest

Today promises sunshine, and I plan to tidy the greenhouse. I’ll pick the last ripe tomatoes, cut down the plants and spread the soil from the pots onto my garden beds as preparation for next year. Pots will be washed, the rain barrel emptied, and the greenhouse allowed to rest through winter.

young cucumbers sprouting in the greenhouse

I wonder if I am starting too soon. When do seasoned gardeners do this? Still, I want it done now, to avoid standing in January realizing something was left undone.

Tips: Autumn Tasks for Your Garden

As autumn settles in, a few small steps help your garden thrive next year:

Harvest the last crops – tomatoes, beans, apples, and root vegetables.
Cut back and clean – remove old plants and weeds so the soil can rest.
Cover with leaves or compost – to nourish and protect the soil.
Plant garlic and spring bulbs – garlic planted in September or October will reward you next summer.
Protect sensitive plants – cover roses, dahlias and others with leaves or spruce branches.
Empty rain barrels – so they don’t freeze and crack.

Small, calm steps that make a big difference in spring.
For more inspiration, see
Odla.nu – Autumn in the Garden or
Nelson Garden – Autumn Garden Tips (Swedish pages, easily translated in your browser).

Summer Memories and Next Year’s Dreams

This summer brought the quiet joy of growing things. Tomatoes tasted of pure summer, cucumbers were a delight to pick, and lettuce grew in abundance – maybe too much. Next year I’ll plan better and start seedlings at the right time. Soon I’ll plant garlic and pre-sprout onions. Our potatoes weren’t many, but they were delicious.

We also planted two apple trees: Ingrid Marie for its wonderful flavor, and Astrakan, which carries memories from the film The Emigrants. I hope both trees survive the winter.

Thoughts and Feelings That Play Tricks

Quite a lot of words for someone who just felt empty of them. Maybe it was only one of those fleeting feelings that sneak in when darkness still rests outside the window. Thoughts can be tricky. They whisper that everything has stopped and that the air stands still. But it isn’t always true.

Often they are just shadows of worry or tiredness, echoes of a restless night. Sometimes they play pranks, mixing up a quiet pause with an ending. Perhaps the real strength lies in seeing that not every thought has to become a truth. In that space—where you breathe and let the thought pass—new words, new steps and new days can quietly begin.

Reflection

This morning reminds me that stillness is not an end. Even a slow start can hold seeds of something new. Maybe it is in the pause that the next chapter quietly forms.

Between the Lines – My Voice

Beneath the words lives a longing for balance. A rest that is not escape but preparation. A reminder that nature knows when it’s time to gather strength.

AHA – Between the Lines

Perhaps this is really a story about more than greenhouses and autumn. When I thought my words had gone silent, they were still breathing inside me like a quiet rhythm. It’s as if nature and writing remind me that everything can move at its own pace. Pauses are not endings; they too are part of creation.