According to Science, the human body steadily changes over seven- year periods. That means, as far as an average human’s understanding goes, with all this replacement and replenishing of old cells with new, everyone is literally developing a new body over each period, with not one trace of the original, except for the eyes (which remain exactly the same size and shape from birth) and sometimes, the teeth (the adult ones that is, given that these remain in perfect health!)

When you look at old photographs of your family and yourself over these phases and stages, having read numerous accounts of Ancient Tribal attitudes to all of this, many old tribal cultures hold the strong belief that photographs capture peoples’ souls.

The Aboriginals, the ones who still hold strongly with ancient spiritual beliefs, shun photographs, basically because they believe that photographs only capture ‘Dead People.’

This does not literally mean the people who have already passed from this world, but ones still living who have grown up and altered considerably since certain photographs were taken. Traditional Elders will strongly insist that, because the soul was ‘trapped’ by film in time, the person’s spirit will ultimately stay within the photograph, despite the continual changes in brain and body. This will lead to a terrible confusion when the person tries to join the ancestors, and the only release for them, and their remaining loved ones, is for the remaining loved ones to burn any photo left behind!

Strong stuff. Especially now that many of their peoples’ artists and writers are constantly filmed! Yet Modern aboriginals tend to see photos and film just as any other modern culture - but on Channel SBS, Australia’s multicultural station, if there are any programs featuring people who have passed on, a voice-over will warn that ‘This Program contains material featuring images of people who have since passed on.’

It can only be said that perhaps the indigenous people knew about physical, emotional and mental changes in human beings long before scientists started studying cells and molecules!

So, how does this all relate to a white woman in her forties?

Well, I look over these seven year periods, and am besieged by very clear memories of my Seven Year crises: every seven years, I ended up with a life crisis that puts the onset of middle age in the pale!

At seven, I grew 2cms in one week (I remember the awful growing pains - my little legs literally burned at times) and stood up for myself for the first time in my life by biting a nun, who had a ruler raised over my knuckles, on the ring finger of the other hand she was using to balance herself on my desk! Violent action, but I’ve been speaking out (without that kind of dramatic effect!) ever since. Before then, I was watching the world, listing injustices, but taking everything on as an aged little stoic. At seven, I just decided ‘No More!”

At 14, I suffered the crisis of too small breasts, too big bottom, and too anxious to flirt with any success! I lost the power of articulate speech that year, but decided I’d take up guitar and sing instead. This revelation saved me from a depression that threatened to rule my life!

At 21, I suffered a restlessness which prevented me from sitting still! So, I put this restlessness to use, deferring college for a while (as my brain had decided it had taken on too much theory!) and working all kinds of grub jobs to travel to all the places I wanted to see! I succeeded with quite a few unexpected life experiences to add to my changing brain cells!

At 28, I went to my last Alternative Rock Festival, and felt OLD for the first time. I spent my birthday losing my tent amongst the thousands camped there, and ended up howling at the moon, a total maniac! After I’d settled down, finding my tent the following morning, I decided that this crazy Baby craving which had steadily crept up on me was at the root of all my new frustrations. I had simply just grown up and could not enjoy being a rock chick any more, and my progesterone levels were doing it to me - so I’d better find a partner fast, or donate my copious eggs!

At 35, I’d been a mother for while, but I took every moment I could to join in with the kids and their games. The best crisis of the lot! I might have appeared a funny fool, but for me, this year was a beautiful return to the best parts of childhood, especially since the kids were young enough to not judge (although some of them did look a little puzzled when I got carried away with The Wiggles new dance steps!)

At 42: well, let’s just say, My Brain is returning and I can finally write almost as well as I could when I was 12, before hormones got the better of this grey matter, turning it into plasticine, stretching whichever way these little chemicals dictated!

So, when people bemoan their youth which has, for most of us, passed way too quickly, I just say ‘Do you remember your OTHER crises? The ones you’ve been having every seven years or so? If you can survive them, you’ll survive this!

99 percent of the time, they do!

I believe that these steady changes are just Nature’s Way of prodding us out of complacency, to do something new. And if my soul remains trapped in the first photo of me as a baby, laughing my little gummy head off at the camera, this explains a lot about me as a human being, and I can think of a lot worse places for it to be trapped.