GETTING HYGGE WITH IT

BY BETH PARRY

I was sitting at my desk on a Monday afternoon when my friend sent me a random text.

It read “I think you practice Hygge, and you don’t even know it.”

Weird right?

She sent me a link to a book called “The Little Book of Hygge” and simply said, “Let’s talk.”

I learned that Hygge (pronounced HOO-gah) means coziness and comfortable and is a defining characteristic of Danish culture. The Danes endure six months of cold and dark winters (think Jon Snow, Game of Thrones) and the rest of the year with rain. Despite this, they are considered the happiest people in the world. Their pursuit of cozy, comfort, and indulgence in the simple pleasures of life, are at the heart of Hygge.

In Denmark, this everyday happiness is achieved through candles and light. Candles are everywhere all year long; in schools, work, and all rooms of the house. Soft lighting is also essential. No fluorescent tubes or big overhead lamps for the Danes. They insist on soothing soft lights strategically placed creating a constant glow.

That is exactly why my friend reached out. She has been to my home so many times and always leaves saying the same thing, “It’s just so comfortable here.”

Cozy is where I am most comfortable; chunky cable knit sweaters, restaurants with fireplaces, big white comforters, and lots of pillows on the bed.

My favorite pair of sweats is old and loose around the waist. They match an oversized sweatshirt I borrowed many years ago and never returned. I put them on with gratitude that they have survived another washing. For years I read books on self-care, self-help, and self-improvement. I am over the idea that decluttering my dresser drawers will make me happy. My mind refuses to let me relax long enough to meditate, and I have no patience for yoga.

After reading about the Danes and their mountain cabin, roaring fire cup of hot coca existence, it occurred to me that in my search for calm, I had forgotten to look in my own home. I have been getting Hygge with it all along.

Years ago, a friend from college came for a visit. I had just moved out of my parent’s home and got my own apartment. I was embarrassed by the old couch and hand-me-down end tables and was nervous about her visit.

To camouflage the lack of sophistication and aging rooms, I strung little white lights and filled jars with candles, placing them in the fake fireplace. I put a tree in the corner and hug white lights that had a dimmer switch, so I could set the mood for any occasion.

I felt like I was trying too hard.

My friend walked in and said, “This looks like Christmas town.” She went on tell me how happy the space made her feel. We stayed in that night, catching up on old college times, ordering pizza, drinking wine, and in the glow of my little one-bedroom, the flaws that only I could see went away.

We were Hygge-ing

My home today has tiny white lights, and candles in every room. Citrus and sage fill the air and every light switch has a dimmer.

Two backyard trees are adorned with white lights. The subtle light brings peace to the end of my busy day.

My couch is covered in pillows and chunky throws. I light my woodburning fireplace often and get excited by the thoughts of backyard bonfires. There is always freshcut wood because even though it is messier and more work, it smells so wonderful and warm.

My Hygge home makes me feel connected to myself, and more hopeful and generally improves my mood.

Who would have thought that a string of lights, plushy pillows, and a roaring fire could ignite a surge of Dopamine, but thanks to the Danes, I know why at times I feel true happiness and contentment.

My ability to feel calm and complete has been there all along.

We spend hours dwelling on the past or stressing about the future. It is part of life.

Hygge won’t solve your problems, but it allows you to take a break from the clutter of life and appreciate the simplicity of the moment you’re in.

Hygge-like moments for me happen when I roast a chicken in the oven. It reminds me of my mom’s Sunday dinners and how our humble without waking him up. Sometimes my legs fall asleep. I listen to his snores, and it makes me happy. home always smelled so good and welcoming.

The smell of my morning coffee is better than the taste or the promise of energy it will bring. The aroma means I’m moving forward, and ready for the new day.

I buy fresh flowers each week for the kitchen. Their beauty instantly lifts my spirits.

I lay with a big blanket and give myself permission to indulge in a favorite old movie. Feeling unproductive is ok.

I look out the windows of my living room in awe of the beauty brushed by the light of my twinkling trees and I give thanks.

Notice the simple pleasures that make you happy.

Being present is where joy lives.

When my dog falls asleep so close to me on the couch, I cannot move