New years knock on our doors time after time like a stranger, caring imaginary bags full of mysterious packages and undetermined outcomes. We welcome them as if they are gifts wrapped with hopes and cheerful desires, taking our chance as to what they may – or may not – hold inside. They are pleasant/wicked surprises, unloading steadily in stages as the days roll on. We sense some events are waiting to unfold our anticipated wishes, yet they are wavering and mostly hard to predict.
We pause at the end of each year, reflecting back on how far we’ve gone down on the road of our ‘chosen’ path. Probably it is our favorite occasion to evaluate our achievements, and perhaps reconsider the few sets of goals we’ve dedicated time and effort to obtain. We seem to consider the crossroad of the years as a contemplative stage to our outlooks for the newcomer and our discontents from the departing year; it is a theater where our expectations and disappointments get ready to dance on.
With each passing year, we evolve continuously… our view on life can hardly remain the same… our desires and yearning are naturally compelled to fade away. Even our interests are bound to become old, setting us on new course of conversion and change. Yet, the years keep coming relentlessly time after time, taking away pieces of us… painting and repainting our possible future…. In time, all those fancy concealed New Year’s gifts become nothing but forgotten or remembered memories.