Here in our motorhome in Kungshamn, the countdown has begun. Not for all our motorhome trips, but perhaps for the last time we come here to Kungshamn this season. In our LVL² I meet silence, my thoughts, and everyday moments that turn into memories – with the coffee cup by my side, the sea outside, and the words that always follow.
This morning I woke up in Kungshamn. The coffee was, as always, by my side while the rest of the family in the motorhome was still asleep. I love these moments when I’m awake all by myself in the motorhome and nothing, or no one, disturbs me while my fingers move across the keyboard.
It fills me with peace. Solitude is not loneliness – it’s a moment with myself and all that lives inside me: my thoughts, my feelings, and the stillness of waking up together with the words. Just me, the coffee – and you, reading this. It warms my heart that so many of you stop by here. Imagine, little me, writing things that others actually want to read.
Performance anxiety knocking on the door
When I only wrote in Swedish, there weren’t that many visitors. Now you are more, mostly from the USA but also from other parts of the world. It brings me joy – but also a small fear. An anxiety. The struggle to perform sneaks in.
What do you want to read about? Do I write well enough? And then I realize – those are not the right thoughts. Because I am me, and I write best when I write with my own words. Performance anxiety only makes me worse. Therefore, I lean back and choose instead to feel grateful that so many of you read, even in English.
Bath memories from the motorhome in Kungshamn
We usually come here a few times a year. At Wiggersvik I have gone swimming late into autumn and very early in spring. One year, the water was only 4.8 degrees Celsius. A man sitting in a boat shouted that he thought I was brave. Maybe brave, but when you do it often it just feels natural.
Yesterday, as we walked down to the jetties, I saw that there would be no swim for me. The water was full of red jellyfish glowing angrily. I’m scared of them. If I were to swim among those stinging creatures, then I would truly test my courage. At the same time, I admit – here I’m a coward. A swim would have been refreshing and wonderful, but I didn’t dare.
Last night my husband and I sat outside. We set the table with crayfish, prawns, toasted bread and mayonnaise. For me, crayfish – I admit I’m a bit lazy, I don’t have the patience to peel small prawns. The prawns went to my husband, who has that patience.
We bought pre-packaged prawns and crayfish at Citygross. Usually, we’ve always gone to the fresh counter to order over the counter. I admit, I had a prejudice. I thought those pre-packed paper bags contained the seafood that wasn’t good enough for the counter. That the prawns wouldn’t be as fresh.
But I was proven wrong. I got a lesson. Because my prejudiced thoughts turned out to be false. Moreover, the prawns and crayfish were of excellent quality. One or two crayfish may have been overcooked, but most were firm and delicious. A small reminder to myself not to judge too quickly.
Evening by the sea
It was colder than the evenings before this weekend in the motorhome. I sat wrapped in a blanket and wished I had been wise enough to take a picture of the sea. The water rocked in long, soft movements – almost like a meditation. Clouds, rays of sunlight and seagulls turned the surroundings into a living painting.
Here in Kungshamn, autumn is already more visible than at home. The leaves glow in yellow and red, and the trees are bathing in color. I think it has all gone far too quickly. Still, it is beautiful. Summer already feels far away.
Read more about our travels in the category Motorhome Life
Reflection
Kungshamn became yet another journey that stayed with me. A place where I had to face both my fear of jellyfish and my prejudice about prawns in a paper bag. The sea swaying, autumn coloring the trees, and in the motorhome I found my moment with words. It is precisely these moments that make me want to keep writing, even when performance anxiety tries to sneak in.
AHA – between the lines
It’s not always the sea or the place itself that matters. It’s the meeting with myself that happens there. When the crayfish surprised me with their quality, when I chickened out in front of the jellyfish, or when the coffee tasted extra good in solitude – that was what mattered. It was never just Kungshamn, it was always me in the meeting with Kungshamn.
My voice – between the lines
I see myself here in the motorhome, with my coffee, my keyboard and the sea outside. I worry about not writing well enough, but at the same time I know that words carry best when they are my own. Between the lines I hear a pride that I dare to be myself, even in the small words. I doubt, but I don’t give up. And maybe that is why I keep going.
Carina Ikonen Nilsson
Yesterday has already rested in history, tomorrow waits further ahead. But right now – this is where life happens. – Carina Ikonen Nilsson
This was supposed to be a post about slowing down. About seeing how a single blade of grass can whisper something about life. But sometimes, the words take their own path. And when they do, I try to follow. So here we are.
Monday under the awning – coffee, calm and everything in motion
Once again, I’m sitting outside under the awning of LVL^2, writing today’s post. My coffee cup is faithfully by my side, as always. The sky holds more clouds than yesterday, but the warmth is still there – soft, enveloping, comforting against my sleepy body.
Traffic is heavier today. It’s Monday. People heading to work. And I’m just sitting here, a little too comfortably, almost feeling guilty for having this much peace. But that’s what I have – and I’m grateful.
Painting with the wrong medium – but the right feeling
Yesterday moved in a slow rhythm. Swimming, shade, a short moment in the sun. In that shade, I brought out my watercolors. And right there it becomes obvious: I’m not a watercolor painter. I’m oil. I’m texture and reshaping. I’m mistakes that turn into masterpieces.
But I painted anyway. A girl’s face, drawn freehand. The eyes turned out too big – almost cartoonish – but still, there was something there. A glow, a kind of motion. It wasn’t detailed, but it had feeling. And sometimes that’s enough. When you’re new at something, it doesn’t have to be perfect. It can look childlike. What matters is that I dared to try. Watercolors feel risky to me, almost threatening in the way they settle and stay – no second chances.
I also painted a landscape, and there it was even clearer that this wasn’t my strength. Watercolor requires discipline. It doesn’t forgive. It stays where you put it, whether gentle or unforgiving.
I like paint that moves. That lets itself be shaped. That’s why I love oil. With oil, you can make mistakes – and still end up with something better than you imagined. Like life, sometimes. You think you’ve ruined it, but the mistake becomes the part that makes it whole.
Callout: What happens when you try something you’re not good at – but do it anyway? Can you be brave enough to be a beginner?
The calm in every brushstroke
Painting quiets my body completely. Just like writing. Something releases. Everything else fades away. It’s like coming home to something inside myself. A space with no pressure, no expectations. Just being. Stillness in color.
Mandys Diner – when the spark disappears
After painting and a few dips in the way-too-warm pool, we headed to Mandys Diner for dinner. It’s usually a highlight. A place where the food and the vintage décor create a sort of time-travel back to the 1950s and 60s. I’ve always loved the atmosphere – the pictures, the details, the vibe. It feels like an experience.
But yesterday… no. Something was off. Maybe it was just me. But I don’t think so.
We were greeted by a waitress who hadn’t bothered to iron her shirt. That might sound petty, but it sets the tone. It says something. That it doesn’t matter anymore.
We waited. Too long. For drinks. For food. And drinks should come quickly – it encourages you to finish and order again. It’s a win for the restaurant, really.
I ordered a burger with coleslaw. What I got was a few limp strips of cabbage and carrot – no mayo, no seasoning, nothing to hold it together. The meat was dry. Tasteless.
And the milkshake, usually a highlight – cold, creamy, dreamy – was gritty. Not even cold. The whipped cream tasted like it had been sitting out too long. Disappointing. And when even the milkshake disappoints – something’s wrong.
The whole thing cost 1400 SEK. And it stung. Not because it was expensive – but because it was a lot of money for food that didn’t bring joy. I wanted to feel satisfied. Instead, I felt tired.
Callout: When does the magic fade from a place you once loved? Can you feel the shift when passion turns into routine?
ADHD – when the mind sees more than it wants
I often think my brain works like oil paint – it wants to revise, reshape, go back and try again. That doesn’t fit well with watercolor. And it doesn’t fit well with a restaurant visit that misses the mark.
With ADHD, I notice everything. A wrinkled shirt. The too-long wait. A milkshake that isn’t cold. Maybe others don’t see it – but my body feels it. Sounds, smells, small signals. They all hit me deep.
At the same time, that’s what gives me the ability to really see. To sense when something’s lost its spark. To know when something’s off. It’s both a challenge and a strength. And maybe that’s why I need painting and writing – because those are the spaces where I can breathe in my own rhythm, without other people’s noise or forgotten details pressing in.
The words took a different turn
I had planned to write about slowing down. About a blade of grass moving in the wind. About the beauty in small things. But instead, this became a post about watercolor, disappointment, and quiet realizations.
And maybe that’s what I needed to write all along. Because sometimes, stillness isn’t what we plan – it’s what happens when we allow life to be what it is.
Thank you, wherever you are
I also want to say thank you. This blog has visitors from all over – Ireland shows up every week (hello from me to you!), and I’ve seen readers from the USA, Australia, Germany, Denmark and of course Norway. Norway has been with me for years – you feel like family now.
Callout: Where are you reading from? Leave a comment – it makes the world smaller and this blog a little bigger.
Quote to carry with you
Yesterday has already settled into history, tomorrow waits further ahead. But right now – this is where life happens. – Carina Ikonen Nilsson
Final words
This post became what it became – not what I planned. And maybe that’s the beauty of it. Letting what wants to be written find its place. Just like in painting – sometimes the mistake is what brings the whole picture to life.
Reflection
There’s peace in simply being honest. In not dressing it up. In saying: I wanted something else, but this is what came. And that’s enough.
Support this blog
If you appreciate my words, reflections and raw honesty – feel free to support this blog with a small contribution. Thank you for reading, and for being here.
We use cookies to optimize our website and our service.
Functional
Alltid aktiv
The technical storage or access is strictly necessary for the legitimate purpose of enabling the use of a specific service explicitly requested by the subscriber or user, or for the sole purpose of carrying out the transmission of a communication over an electronic communications network.
Preferences
The technical storage or access is necessary for the legitimate purpose of storing preferences that are not requested by the subscriber or user.
Statistics
The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for statistical purposes.The technical storage or access that is used exclusively for anonymous statistical purposes. Without a subpoena, voluntary compliance on the part of your Internet Service Provider, or additional records from a third party, information stored or retrieved for this purpose alone cannot usually be used to identify you.
Marketing
The technical storage or access is required to create user profiles to send advertising, or to track the user on a website or across several websites for similar marketing purposes.
