I received a package of old childhood photos in the mail from my folks the other day (thanks mum and dad!). Looking through them reminded me of how much change gets crammed into our relatively short lives. Relationships, possessions, jobs, technology, you name it… it’s not that change is a bad thing, it’s inevitable and part of the adventure, but even within one simple hippie’s life has anything remained constant?
In the collection of photos I came across one I’d forgotten even existed, a photo of me age 3-4 blissed out on my first set of wheels — the same bike my five older siblings had learnt to ride on — a once fancy little bike that my grandparents had brought to Australia from overseas and somehow it had survived life with us on the farm.
The funny thing is, ignore the creaky bones and grey hair acquired along the way and the photo could just have well been taken today or any day over the last 4o odd years. Regardless of age, regardless of life’s ups and downs, being on a bike has always made me smile, filled me with the same sense of carefree freedom, of independence and infinite possibilities, hope, adventure and peace of mind, all the while gently reminding me to simply enjoy the ride.
The one constant.