2012

We are in 2012. It’s early January. The most desolate time of the year. The most solemn. The most quiet. And perfectly bare like the trees I can see out the window.

The new year has just entered our sphere of existence. 2012. I don’t know what to think about it.

Sometimes I start from the formal analysis of the number. In this case, I don’t particularly like the digits 2 and 1, but the number 2012 looks OK. It’s balanced enough. It’s a leap year – I like that. I like that extra day in February. I like the quality of evenness the leap years have.

I’ve never thought much about the Mayan calendar ending in 2012, but a few people have reminded me of it in the past few days. I still don’t have any particular thoughts about it. The political currents in the U.S. and the world scare me more than the end of the Mayan calendar. As for the Mayan calendar, there are many ways to interpret the end of it. However, many political happenings I cannot interpret in any other way but a negative one.

Back to the voice in my head: I am, of course, aware of the fact that I am turning forty this year. It’s one of those birthdays that can’t just slide by you unnoticed. For God’s sake, it’s your fortieth. You just have to make a note of where you are, what you are doing, and with whom. It’s that kind of place in your life.