It's the twelfth day of Christmas. Six days into 2013. One last photo with August's tree. I am wondering what is in store for us this year. I mail ordered our Rosca de Reyes. It is the smallest I have ever seen. It sits waiting patiently for us to cut into it. Who will get the Baby Jesus?
All day long my mind has gone to a forest jungle. This place of pine trees mixed with tropical fronds, waterfalls, ponds, moss, tall trees, tropical flowers, all living there. It was where my feverish dream took place last night. I'd wake up and fall back into it, over and over. I would be hot then cold, it was unpleasant, however, the sights were beautiful. In my dream I wondered if I was walking about the future as if the future was a definite place. I woke up with things on my mind.
What makes the future? Is it our choices built upon choices or is it all a lifetime's accumulation of bad luck and good luck? Is it fate? Everything predestined, synchronicity, serendipity? How much control do we have over the future, our future?
Fortunetellers, horoscopes, astrologist, numerologist.
What about ourselves? What makes us? Has it been choices built upon choices that created who we are at this very moment? What you think of, at any given moment, those fleeting thoughts...are they wholly your own or are they all stemming from a lifetime's accumulation of bad luck and good luck?
Perceptions, experiences, optimists, pessimists.
What role do dreams play in all of this? Those dreams we have while asleep, the ones we have wide awake, the ones we think we are in, the one we chase, the ones we hold close like secrets, the ones we let the whole world in on so they can cheer us on...2013, us, dreams, futures, who we can't help but be.