I was walking on the beach, listening to En varg söker sin pod, a podcast by Liv Strömqvist and Caroline Ringskog Ferrada-Noli. Liv Strömquist is a creator of graphic novels and playwright, but she also has a past in humor and satire programs in Swedish public service radio. She is a feminist, left-wing and intellectual. In a sense, she’s one of my idols, if that is something that one has at my age.
And I like the way they talk, Liv and Caroline, it’s like being allowed to listen in on the conversation between two friends. Two very intelligent, well-read and well-connected friends. They’re incredibly annoying too, at times, and I don’t agree with everything that they’re saying, but that’s not necessary. I don’t like everything unconditionally about my real friends either. That doesn’t make my affection for them any less whole-hearted. Simply put: I like the podcast En varg söker sin pod, and I feel like it broadens my perspectives on things.
Anyway, back to the beach. I was walking in the wet sand, the waves occasionally washing up my legs, listening to Liv and Caroline talk about a book, and how eccentric women are considered crazy, and the psychology of rejection.
It got me thinking. And the thoughts felt important. Like I should write them down. But I was walking on the beach and that was nice too.
And so I continued walking, with the thoughts developing in my head. It scared me a little, that I would have these insights, and that I would forget them. Not learn anything from the smart things that I hear. I often feel like I’m having big thoughts, inspired, while listening to my favorite podcasts. But I rarely have time to write them down.
I was walking on the beach, the thoughts flowing through me like water. Or, rather, like waves crashing onto the beach. Every new one feeling like the big, overwhelming – but then it collapsed into the sand and melted into the next wave, helping to build up a new surf. And so every wave comes and is forgotten.
And my thoughts. I guess it doesn’t really matter. There was sand between my toes. And we learn. It just doesn’t have the be conscious all the time.
Katja Malmborg 