We are coming to the end of the Chinese year of the Wooden Sheep, and entering into the year of the Fire Monkey. This transpires officially on, I think, February Eighth, but I have read a couple of articles about how there is always an overlap. I blame that for a certain sense of impending...something.
First of all, let me say that I was born in the year of the sheep, and so that means I've been through the twelve year cycles three times now. My expectations about the year of the wooden sheep involved grazing about lazily with dreamy visions of stability. I really shouldn't have assumed that. The year of the sheep was an amazingly creative year (I am very pleased with all the art I put into the world this year, and there was a lot of it) but in no way was that a lazy endeavor, and in no way was it easy. I should have known that the stability implied by the year of the sheep was an internal stability. And do you know how stability is tested? By earthquakes. Want to know what another word for internal stability is? Stubbornness.
"In some ways, the end of this year of the wooden sheep is kind of like wearing a wooden cast," Casey Boy told me as we discussed the Woo. "Maybe it will be fuel for the fire monkey to burn since we are done with it." I reply.
I think it would be foolish to try to figure out what this fire monkey has in store, and so instead I have decided to approach the year with a Monkey Mask on. Therefore, I am christening this year: The Year Of Burning Curiosity. I feel confident about channeling this creature (after all, while curiosity kills cats, it turns monkeys into enduring children's story characters. I just have to retain George's kind heart, I think that is what kept him safe). I am going to ask as many questions as possible, research as many whims as I can, turn over every rock I see, and keep my eyes as wide as they can stand. And, it seems, much wiser to have intentions than expectations these days.