Hygge: what is it and why are we obsessed with it right now? After a bit of poking around online, I’ve discovered that: a)it’s pronounced “hue-gah” and b)we need a whole lot more of it in our part of the world. Hygge, which, is in fact, a Danish term that could be likened to coziness or comfort, first popped into my life thanks to the gods of Pinterest, who apparently know me better than I know myself.
When a concept about embracing an atmosphere of serenity and warmth crosses my path in the midst of a long, cold, dark winter/national climate, I embrace that concept that a strong Scandinavian grandmother embracing a young child in—perhaps—a moment of hygge.
After saving my very first “How to Get More Hygge” pin, I was hooked. Who doesn’t want to sink into a furry beanbag of nostalgic relief with some delicious hot beverage and a good book, or friend, or both? Would anyone turn that down? Sure, this is America after all. Truly, the only criticism I have encountered regarding the concept of hygge was the fact that it is currently a marketable trend.
There’s even a book that was published last September, The Little Book of Hygge, written by Meik Wiking. The book is adorable, and something that I may have to include while I’m hygge-ing(?) Really though, you don’t have to purchase a single thing to get more hygge in your life.
Many of us exist in a fast-paced, high-stress state. Somewhere along the course of my life, these notions of “work hard, play hard,” and “sleep when you’re dead,” were burned into my psyche. In my early twenties, it really only seemed acceptable to stay in if I was sick, or injured. I think my friends gave me a pass when I got my wisdom teeth out. So my life revolved around working 40 hours per week, about ten hours at the gym, ten to twelve hours of school and homework, and way too many hours of socializing/dealing with hangovers.
Then I got married and had kids. And now my life is filled with things like never getting eight uninterrupted hours of sleep, making coffee, feeding three children (and sometimes a husband) a plethora of food that they systematically reject in favor of crackers, picking up and dropping off little humans at school, homework, bills, and all kinds of other adult stuff (e.g. cleaning toilets).
Despite all of this, I would still feel lazy if my husband came home from work and I happened to be sitting because breastfeeding and standing just doesn’t work well for me. So yes, maybe it took a trend of something that has existed as part of the Danish culture to make it seem okay to relax and take in some of that Denmark brand of consistent happiness.
It turns out the Danish might know a thing or two about being happy (America is not the best at everything?!) If you don’t believe me, check out Malene Rydahl’s Ted Talk “Planting Seeds of Happiness the Danish Way.” If you don’t trust foreigners and are still cloudy about what I’m babbling about, I’ve compiled a list of ten simple things that I had started doing long before I ever mispronounced the word hygge, but totally fit into that category.
Maybe you’ll be inspired to make up your own list. Or you can continue hating all things cozy; tell satan hello for me when you get a chance.
My hyyge:
- The smell of bread baking in the morning. And also eating that bread, warm from the oven with real butter melting on top.
- Reading bedtime stories with one, or all three of my children, piled into my oldest son’s giant bean bag in the reading nook we made in his room.
- Sitting next to my husband on the couch after all the kids are asleep, stealing Oreos and milk from him and watching shows that make us laugh.
- Hot tea, a good book—one that makes you giddy every time you open the cover—, and a soft blanket on a rainy day.
- Having old friends that you haven’t seen in ages stop by for coffee, which turns into lunch, which turns into an afternoon drive to pick kids up from school.
- Yoga workshops at my local yoga studio; the kind that push me beyond the physical and social boundaries I construct for myself.
- Building bookshelves, renovating bathrooms, or refinishing old furniture with my husband and discovering the intense satisfaction of combining collaborative creativity with hard manual labor.
- Hot cocoa and marshmallows with my kids, in our pajamas.
- Cuddling my sleeping baby in my arms, smelling the top of her sweet head, storing the memory of her soft breath and curled hand on my chest, just as I did with her two older brothers.
- Flannel sheets on a cold night and someone who doesn’t object—too much—to your cold feet on his legs.
