Uncle Johan.

Childhood enigmas are scattered like a treasure map.

Confusion and absolute certainty side by side.

Then the bizarre interplay with adult life.

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Uncle Johan’s cryptic anecdotes, singing, philosophizing, drunkeness and occasional unsuitable humor. His character was as intriguing as his actions – especially how he always seemed to arrive with a 100-gallon drum barrel of petrol every early May.

As a parks supervisor he had access to unlimited amounts of gas but the event was shrouded in a veil of inexplicable circumstance to a child…stolen in other words.

Remember to come to uncle Johans gas station when you need to fill up your moped or boat tank. We are always open and the goods are free he always said.

With his robust physique, resembling a third-trimester expectant mother, and a face that was the canvas for an extravagant red beard and a waterfall of locks,

Uncle Johan could easily be mistaken for a lumbering bear. Yet, his intense, intelligent light-blue eyes suggested an unfathomable depth.

His ever-reliable 1972 Volvo 142 GL was an accomplice to an annual mystery. The rear luggage compartment straining under the weight of the massive petrol barrel.

A blurry boundary between what is possible or what is impossible formed my mind. I used to think of what I couldn’t achieve more often than the opposite but In time, you learn that the magic lies in knowing that ‘everything you never imagined is possible.

It’s a divine paradox, one that keeps you exploring, expanding and growing.

The only inherently intimidating constant in the ebb and flow of existence is a perception of sameness.

We are perpetually evolving and reshaping ourselves. Our perceptions, our aversions to the unfamiliar, and our misplaced longing for permanence.

In the grand scheme of things, unless we one day wake up to the stillness of absolute zero, our trajectory will continue to curve and spiral, oscillate and morph.

Even at this cold hypothetical point of zero where everything theoretically freezes to stillness, quantum mechanics suggests there is still residual movement – the zero point energy.

Nothing ceases to change completely.

Uncle Johan was a mentor, a guide who wove equally absurd, as profound, life lessons in my formative years. He was a paradox – an embodiment of strength and vulnerability, of kindness and audacity. He was a man who found joy in the simplest things, his infectious laugh is his testament.

He was a policeman in his youth but when he and his partner were called to a jewelry store break-in, some of the precious stones landed in his pocket. Somehow, someone found out and Johan was asked to resign.

Next he became a forest ranger in the deep forests of the north but that’s another story.

The moped I received as a child, an antique husqvarna from 1937, had bicycle pedals and was in absolute mint condition. To me it opened new vistas of freedom and exploration. The revving engine, the feel of the throttle, the wind against my face, all of it became a metaphor for life’s forward thrust.

Air, the invisible lifeline, the most common and precious of gases, is the metaphorical fuel of life.

It is an oxidizing agent, binding with most elements, sparking reactions, symbolizing the ceaseless change that permeates everything.

The ancient Greek philosopher Heraclitus once proposed, “Panta Rei,” or “everything flows.” One cannot step into the same river twice, as the river itself is never the same – like life itself.

With every moment, everything changes – the universe, the world, and us.

Life, in essence, is an eternal dance to the tune of change.