A new calendar begins empty of crosses and expectations. Everything is clean, each of the 365 days awaits appointments, commitments, birthday reminders and even the drawing of a heart to remember the anniversary with the loved one. 

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There is no need to repeat the bad things or predict the divine, just give yourself over to destiny, which surely has a new surprise in store for us every day. They say that the ideal in this type of life that God gave us is to have hope every day and, beyond the results or the achievement of objectives, to be content with the moment and to have hope again, until it is no longer necessary for the heart. Blaise Pascal, French mathematician, philosopher and physicist, maintained that “Man has illusions like a bird has wings and that is precisely what sustains him.” 

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True, false or simply a famous phrase, the truth is that we would reach the point where any person would want to be a bird and fly to the most remote point of life, even to the interior of oneself and be able to look from a different perspective at each of the “Maybe” that will appear from now on. The ideal (which logically does not exist) would be to buy one-way tickets to that unknown place that no one has ever visited or will visit; be surprised by the landscapes and pretend that this place was made especially for you. Close your eyes for a few minutes and when you open them there are more colors than there were a while ago and count them and collect them and take them in your suitcase even if they are overweight. 

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Perhaps from that wonderful and magical place, we can realize that it is still possible to conquer worlds and passionate men or women; or to reach the blessed heaven that will surely have a place reserved for us because we have behaved more or less well. 

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Maybe from there we can find the end of the mirror labyrinth and stop colliding with the darkness that will appear to us without us even looking for it or maybe we do; and also, without a doubt, we can forget about the silences that we were forced to make because of those questions of what others will say. Selfish attitudes that trigger stomach and conscience pain. 

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The year of “Maybe” is the illusion and the genesis of everything we want to go well. It is the constant search for our own and others’ smiles and for prolonged sighs that leave us exhausted and satisfied at the same time. Because ultimately, who can refuse to imagine the impossible? Who can prevent us from going to sleep and going there with a premeditated and joyful dream? Those who hide lies so well that they even become truths say that there is a man who walks, walks and walks. 

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There are days when he does it until the November rain, others until his greatest illusions and others, the least, until the end of his dreams.