Over these past few days I have kept busy diligently deep cleaning our home, and reorganizing as well as decluttering our space. I still have much to do, and I am trying to balance the tasks between my husband’s work-from-home schedule, my child’s school schedule, and my own work schedule. What would normally take four full days of deep cleaning will likely stretch out to four full weeks. It’s not ideal; however the end result is worth it. We will have a home that is clean, warm, inviting, cozy, and rich in hygge.
“Hygge is about an atmosphere … a feeling that we are safe, that we are shielded from the world…” – Meik Wiking
Hygge is a Danish word, a concept that in Canada loosely translates into hominess – that feeling of warmth and togetherness, that awareness of escaping from the world, wrapped in a cocoon of coziness. I have blogged about it in my previous posts My Little Blog of Hygge and A Coziness of the Soul. So why am I writing about it, again?
As the days grow shorter, the weather a little more temperamental, and the vibrant shades of green fade into browns, oranges, yellows, even reds, I feel an overwhelming desire to shut out the outside world and create an atmosphere of warmth, coziness, and togetherness. Why? Autumn has always been a challenging season for me to endure. I am always overcome with feelings of finality – the final cycles of life. I feel like most people enjoy the changing season with the vibrant fall colours, and the cool, crisp air descending upon them, yet I always feel saddened by the change. It feels like an incredible loss. And truthfully, post-cancer, that loss feels far more significant than it ever did before. It blatantly demonstrates the precariousness of life, the fragility of it all. And to watch it fade away is sometimes too much for me to bare witness to. I turn inward, and I search for ways to help me cope with the sadness that I often feel as I watch this once vibrant life prepare for an end.
To tame these frequent, deep-rooted, and foreboding feelings that often stir inside of me during these autumn months, I turn to hygge in an attempt to blanket myself in sensations of safety, comfort, and coziness. It is where I find my happiness. When I come in from outside, I walk into a home that is clean, warm, calm, and abundant in hygge.
How do I accomplish this? I have a go-to book that I often refer to. The Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking, sits proudly on my bookshelf, easy in reach, and lovingly read and reread. It is prominent in my thoughts during these inauspicious autumn months. In this book are helpful tips on how to achieve hygge, from lighting, to home decor, to clothing, to food & drink, to togetherness. I lose myself in the pages, the sage advice, and find myself reconnecting with my Scandinavian roots. To achieve hygge, I begin with following the Hygge Manifesto:
Focusing on these 10 concepts provides me with constructive goals that give my days purpose, all while subduing the foreboding feelings stirring deep inside. I am grateful for this connection – this form of self-help – because it feels honest, truthful, and achievable. It is a tangible concept that is simple to implement. And so, I take the time to clean, reorganize, and de-clutter my home. I adjust the lighting, refresh the decor, and create a warm and comfortable space – a space to relax, to play, to create, and to share – a space where we can thrive as a family in harmony and togetherness, and achieve happiness in hygge.
Happiness in Hygge. Published by Crystal Joy Hall
Insert Image borrowed from The Little Book of Hygge.
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