This year, as for a while, my heart is a stone. I feel nothing.
It's not about material goods: I don't care. Any "thing" I want could be purchased, it might just take a few months to make things float.
In truth, I'm not sure where I derailed. I've cracked wise that the lack of a train around the tree is the problem, but I don't think it is. Somewhere along the way, I lost something, didn't notice, and it's been gone since.
Several years ago I lamented that the verse in Greg Lake's "I believe in Father Christmas" which tells us that "the Christmas we get we deserve" meant I was doomed to miserable Christmases forever, and perhaps I am, but last year I finally unwound what I believe is the truth. Of the toys on the Island of Misfit Toys, I am a Charlie in the Box. What's wrong with him? Nothing that's not in his head.
Step 22: learn to feel the happiness around you. It may not be easy or obvious, but the rewards are wonderful.