Fireworks and Fatigue: Finding Anchors for Body and Mind Amid the Festival Clamor

The clamor of the New Year festival always comes with a contradictory feeling: on one side, the sensory stimulation of fireworks and firecrackers; on the other, extreme exhaustion of body and mind after tedious rituals. In the transition between New Year’s Eve and the first day of the new year, we can often see the essence of relationships more clearly, as well as our body’s most honest feedback.

I. Love Is Often Hidden Beneath Rough Survival Instincts

At this special moment, family members often become more three-dimensional figures.

Watching my father at the flower market “intensely” bargaining for a few pots of chrysanthemums and orchids, his words perhaps blunt and street-smart, even a bit embarrassing. But on second thought, it’s precisely this somewhat rough survival wisdom and “tactics” that have supported a family’s livelihood.

Love sometimes doesn’t need elegant expression—it lives in unconscious actions. When you’re standing on the sidelines looking up at fireworks, that same father who was just haggling over every cent silently brings over a chair for you to sit down. That moment of warmth is enough to dissolve all misunderstandings. Life isn’t always poetic, but those clumsy efforts made for family comfort are the most genuine poetry.

II. When Blessings Become a Burden: Beware the False Connection of “Not Being Present”

New Year’s Eve should be a time for the whole family to sit around playing cards and sharing warmth, but we often fall into a modern trap: spending tremendous mental energy editing and sending hundreds of blessing messages to maintain social network etiquette.

On one hand, there are the playing cards in your hands and family members within reach; on the other, names on a screen waiting to be clicked. When we become absent-minded sending blessings, even feeling our hands shake and anxiety rise from the sheer workload—this itself is putting the cart before the horse.

The price of extremely advanced information is that we gradually lose the ability to “be present.” The truly important people are actually sitting right beside you; those “contact list friends” who drain your mental energy to maintain perhaps don’t need such heavy formality. Rather than burning out in virtual socializing, put down your phone and feel the laughter and warmth of the present moment.

III. The Body Is Honest: Rethinking Energy Management and Self-Cultivation

The body is always more honest than the brain. When anxiety triggers trembling, when the stomach protests, when the heart feels inexplicable discomfort—these are all the body sending “low battery warnings.”

This also prompts a reexamination of the meaning of body cultivation practices like “Ba Duan Jin” or “Zhan Zhuang.” They’re not just physical exercises but cultivation of one’s “qi”—a steadiness in facing life. If you hope the people around you (like a partner) can also have healthy habits, the best approach isn’t lecturing, but “work on yourself before expecting others to change”—first become an example of abundant energy yourself.

At the same time, beware of “fake rest.” When extremely tired, we often instinctively choose gaming to relax, but experience proves that gaming only further depletes what little energy remains, making it impossible to enter deep reading or thinking, ultimately leading to an even deeper sense of depletion. True rest is allowing yourself to sleep completely, or to do nothing at all.

IV. The Loneliness of Growth and Self-Affirmation

New Year is also a window for observing “time.” Seeing once-familiar people become thin and listless, you suddenly realize life’s impermanence and hardship. At these moments, a sense of loneliness naturally arises: “Everyone else seems stuck in place, only I seem to have changed.” This isn’t arrogance—it’s the melancholy of growth.

In social interactions, we still feel disappointed when someone doesn’t reply to our messages in time, or anxious when sharing a reading list like “Anne of Green Gables” without getting the expected response. This “pathological attention” to others is actually an inner longing to be seen.

But ultimately, we must learn to embrace ourselves. Don’t let others’ silence negate you, and don’t let the world’s hot and cold make you doubt your value. When feeling low, tell yourself loudly:

“I have the capacity to feel happiness, I am striving to live, and someone like me is truly wonderful.”

(Supplemented 2025-11-26)