Living Life on Purpose

There are often memories we carry with us from childhood that are so vivid and have such an impact on us that we carry it with us throughout the rest of our lives. Sometimes we have the chance to revisit the place where that memory is formed. This can emotional or magical or traumatic or mixture of the above. Everyone has their own special stories. This is one of mine.

There is a tourist attraction in Melbourne called Puffing Billy. On the surface it caters to the tourist family. It is a steam engine train ride through the Dandenong ranges, reaching a wonderful lake in the hills. The grassy picnic areas are green and lush and the whole area is surrounded by deciduous trees. There are even paddle boats for hire and multiple shelters for BBQs and picnic tables set up. A terrific place for your child's birthday party, or for any party for that matter. A veritable holiday gem of Greater Melbourne.

I turned 3 years old in this park. However my memory is marred by a traumatic experience on the train ride up. In my whole young life I had very little knowledge of anything really. One thing I did understand though was that my older sister was allowed to do things that I wasn't. This is a general rule learnt early on, a concept that I was happy with. I understood.

But this was my 3rd birthday party. This was my magical train ride through the dripping ferns and lush foliage of the glorious, secretive hills. The puff puff puff of the engine was puffing away for me because I was turning 3! Other children on the train were sitting on the window sills holding the bars and dangling their legs out of the windows. So, this is also what I would be doing. Right?

No. Not only no, but "no you can't, but your big sister can because she's tall enough".

Suffice to say I remember nothing of the glorious picnic knoll where my birthday cake was served up, or the paddle boats which I'm sure I had a blast in, probably paddled by the competently 'tall enough' older sister.

Many years later, 18 to be precise, I revisited this park in a carriage pulled by a steam engine named Billy, surrounded by laughing friends to celebrate my 21st birthday. And there I was, dangling my legs out of the window of the carriage. I was in absolute bliss, chugging through the forest, straining to look past the ferns in the mist, anticipating what would be revealed beyond each turn.

A magical journey regardless of age, but one which should be undertaken sitting on the windowsill of the carriage.