Auld Lang Syne: The Melancholy of New Year Traditions

What is it that we think of when we think of a New Year? Why is it that when we say “out with the old” we think of things we don’t want to think about anymore? Is there something we don’t want to admit? 

When we say, “in with the new” does that mean we are looking for something new, a fresh start. A new beginning? Are we writing off the mistakes from the past, dismissed under a heading of digits and forgotten instantly, regret abolished as we shuffle towards a new era? 

We’ve spent the last year living our lives, continuing the routine that we do – for good things but more than likely things we might have wanted to change. 

So, is there really a new or an old? 

Is there something we’re still looking for? 

It’s traditional to sing Auld Lang Syne at midnight, when the crack between the old year and the new year is just opening, but often Auld Lang Syne can mean other things as well. As we bid farewell to one and welcome a new, we are often placed in a position of saying goodbye. Melancholy is the mood of the moment, a last reprieve of tender affection and some bittersweet agony. A photograph – always fading. 

For Auld Lang Syne is a closing song, a song for funerals. A lament. 

So, which do we fear the most? Is it the birthday? Are we really a year older especially when a birthday is in the middle of a year. It has little significance. Where we feel the oldest is when we’ve said goodbye to a year and start another. 

A time for reflection is often spent in the in-between, in the paralysis of empty promises, in the bottom of wine bottles and an empty fridge. After swallowing some Aspirin and reaching out in aspiration, can the excitement for the next year be born? 

Deep down the saddest part is that it’s gone forever and it’s in the past just like the song says. And it’s hard to say goodbye as the older you get. The more years you say farewell to the more you look back with rose tinted glasses and wish you could go back; become narrow, detached, misty eyed and complaining how things used to be. 

Out with the old has always been a metaphor. We feel the furthest away from birth, from relevance and closer to something a little more sinister.  

So, we give up our past, lovingly, and with hope in our stride. Because as we know the inevitable, the world keeps turning and that’s okay.  

It’s okay to put it down and leave it to collect dust. It’s okay to remember and to pine, after all, that’s what tradition is right?  

We put it in the grave and we can’t take it back, we cannot relive it, see it, embrace it or hear it laugh.  

It’s the end of the year and we have come full circle. 

You’re about to wish “Happy New Year” to your family and friends and with that, start a new page in the book.  

And then…what are you going to do? 

Is this the year that is going to make a difference? Are you going to be doing things different this time? How long will that last? Does it all really matter anyway? 

In with the new my friends! – forget about the distracters, the knives in your back, the hate in their blood and the machine that pulls you down. 

You make your own world, live by your own compass.  

Cheers to all, to the new year and beyond… 

---

“Should old acquaintance be forgot, 
and never brought to mind? 
Should old acquaintance be forgot, 
and auld lang syne? 

For auld lang syne, my dear, 
for auld lang syne, 
we’ll take a cup of kindness yet, 
for auld lang syne. 

And surely, you’ll buy your pint cup! 
and surely, I’ll buy mine! 
And we’ll take a cup o’ kindness yet, 
for auld lang syne. 

We two have run about the hills, 
and picked the daisies fine; 
But we’ve wandered many a weary foot, 
since auld lang syne. 
 
 We two have paddled in the stream, 
from morning sun till dine; 
But seas between us broad have roared 
since auld lang syne. 

And there’s a hand my trusty friend! 
And give me a hand o’ thine! 
And we’ll take a right good-will draught, 
for auld lang syne.”