I think many people are experiencing post-holiday-season depression now that we're past Christmas and are already in the new year. We've compressed most of our expectations, hopes and honest desires into a dream we thought would come true at this time of the year. I'm not saying that this week inevitably tumbled short on it because this typical sadness doesn't come from disappointment but from having gone through the whole thing without any of it contained--with only some material evidence, proving that it really happened.
With my girlfriend we have a little 4 years old tradition for Advent, where we make these heartwarming calendars for each other. One little surprise for each day. It's never really anything that amounts to a christmas present or something, just chocolate or tea or some small ornament (these from her and I wrote a novella broken up into pieces, one for each day). This tradition of ours isn't making this part of the year a huge, outstanding whirlpool of awesomeness. No doubt though, it certainly feels very nice and I'm always looking forward to it but it's not a big feat, really. However, when I run out of small packages I feel like crying. This routine of getting something nice for each day and giving something that I hope is encouraging, is missing terribly. For me its lack is so heartbraking that whenever I think about it I genuinly feel like crying.
The same applies for Christmas Eve, only on a bigger scale. That's the day, when my year reaches its climax. But it's gone. I still have my presents and memories but I couldn't hold on to the day itself.
New Year's Eve is also just a scar. It's a lot like sunrise or spring: a beautiful, romantic, shimmering start. Well, the promise of starting over again, which we humans can't help but believe in and to my greatest surprise it isn't completely baseless... New Year's Eve is a shiny, happy celebration most of the time but when it's past we're left with doubts about our convictions and hopes (ironically I've found this to be baseless).
When this part of the year is past and we're stripped from the air of sometimes loud, sometimes quiet ceremonialism, we can feel very low (surprisingly suddenly).
Often times I wonder if there's a cure for this sad state but I had the bitter revelation that there isn't.
When it's Christmas or New Year's Eve, or even when it's Advent, we may be gifted with something unearthly. I think these holidays allow us to see things we couldn't otherwise. And we're moving toward this transcendent greatness, only we don't always have the privilige of being lifted externally in addition to our futile efforts. These unutterable big things are what generally guide our imagination, when we're formulating definitions of everyday greatness and when we're trying to break out from the everydays.
I'm extremely sad by having all the celebrations brought to an end but I have my hopes intact and dreams unbroken--actually, I have them strengthened.