I can’t quite put my finger on it, but there’s just something about vintage photos which gets me. Looking at old black and white photos sends me back in time and envelops me in a cloak of nostalgia. I suddenly feel a strong longing to turn back the hands of time and go back to when things were much simpler… happier…
When I think about the past- my past, in particular, I especially reminisce about my childhood. I find a certain kind of calm whenever I replay memories from way back when I was brimming with unbridled joy.
I liked being a child. Those were the best years of my life. I fondly remember clutching this Ernie (Bert’s better half from Sesame Street) stuffed toy wherever I went. If Linus of Peanuts had his security blanket, I had my Ernie doll. He was my BFF who never let me down.
I immensely enjoyed swinging so high on the playground swings. And swinging while standing? That was a feat I mastered, as my playmates stared at me with wide-eyed wonder.
I still vividly recall those times when I’d scratch my knee from running down a few hills. Playing tag for me was not challenging unless we ran over steep landforms. I guess I was a stickler for danger back then.
Being a kid is so uncomplicated. Children seem to have an anti-worry shield around them. They live in the moment, and take things for what they are. Everything simply is. They don’t overthink things and worry about what has yet to happen. They just live life one day at a time.
And then adulthood crept up on me. Age has stolen my youth, and replaced it with paranoia, worry, and threw in a bit of OC-ness just for kicks.
Although we have no power to turn back the hands of time, we can always try to relive our youth. We can practice viewing life through the eyes of a child. Breathe, work, live, and most of all, don’t forget to play.
A post for Shutterday’s Challenge: Vintage.