Early morning, overlooking the ocean
Because of the work I do, where I constantly meet new people, I’ve gotten very used to introducing myself.
I tell my story as if it’s the most normal thing in the world. And in some ways, it is. We all have our background, our experiences, our way of seeing reality. For each of us, that becomes our truth. No matter what we’ve gone through, it shapes us—and that simply is what it is.
At the same time, as I’m sitting here, about to teach a class on a cliff, with warm air wrapped around my body and the ocean stretching out in front of me, I can’t help but wonder: is this really the life I’m living?
Exactly ten years ago, I moved to this island. My intention was to do a yoga teacher training—after falling completely in love with the practice—and to spend some time with my dad, whom I didn’t grow up with. I thought I’d stay for six months.
Very quickly, my desire to return to life in Sweden began to fade. Everything was new, yet I felt more at home than ever before. So I stayed. Allowing things to unfold. Letting my heart lead the way.
In those first few years, I was still chasing the sun—carrying a quiet fear that it might one day disappear. I was used to Nordic seasons, where warmth only visits briefly.
I don’t hold on in that way anymore. I’ve realised it never really goes—and if it does, it always returns. I’ve even come to appreciate the rainy season, that stretch of time when the sky is more grey than blue.
Anyway, coming back to where I started: sitting here, in this very moment, I’m able to look back and take it all in. This might be my every day, but the truth is, it hasn’t always been.
And maybe that’s what’s so easy to forget—how a life, little by little, becomes normal. How what once felt uncertain, distant, or even impossible slowly turns into something we no longer question.
I still introduce myself the same way. I tell my story as if it’s the most natural thing in the world.
But every now and then, I pause long enough to really see it.
And in those moments, I’m reminded—this, too, is a life I once couldn’t have imagined.
