I discovered that I'm hygge

So I read that book. You know. The one everyone is reading. It's like the new Kon Marie but with books allowed. All things "hygge" by the CEO of the Happiness Research Institute in Denmark, the happiest country in the world, and aren't they the lucky ones?

While living in a welfare state will not be a part of my existence anytime soon or ever, I did discover while reading this book that I am pretty good at hygge. Hygge works best as an antidote to whatever is stressful in life. It's finding - and deliberately creating - little pockets of security and comfort to get you through your daily life - your daily existence. It's not a "big fix" - it's everyday happiness, which apparently is what we should all be prizing a lot more than those big events/goals/rewards that we so avidly seek. Hygge needs the storm to be the calm inside the storm. It doesn't really exist without something to be sheltering FROM. And it helps if you already live somewhere where the weather is shite. As this naturally inclines you to stay indoors and practice hygge, to like warm clothes and warm drinks, and etc.

I do live in a place where the weather is perhaps similar to that in Denmark, yet a big thing not hygge about me is that I do prefer summer. Summer is less hygge but it is not impossible to be hygge in summer as you can still find those precious moments, still take in the beauty of the natural, still spend quality time with a few close friends or family. (Hygge is introverted not extroverted and Denmark is an introverted country compared to the U.S. which is highly extroverted. Therefore, the best hygge occurs with an ideal of 2-3 companions, no more).

To go along with my preference for summer, I am not hygge in that I prefer summer clothes. I love flip flops and summer dresses. I don't care about cozy sweaters or woolen socks (sorry happiness dude). In fact, please keep wool as far away from me as possible. If I can go without socks, even in winter, I will. I have a collection of soft socks, and I find them imperative to life, so that's hygge, but I'd rather take them off.

That's it though. Apart from that, I'm pretty hygge.

I love coffee and the smell of coffee. For the Danes, the number one hot drink is coffee and hot drinks are the number one way to enjoy hygge. FYI.

I combine landmark events with special purchases. Heck, these days, as my budget is extremely condensed, nearly every purchase is a special purchase. As in I plan for a month at least before buying something. In this book about hygge it is recommended to save special purchases for a time when you can associate them with something special that happened to you - so that ever after you will combine the two things in your mind. Every time you sit in that favorite chair, you will remember how you won that contest or made that big deal or whatever. I'm big into rewarding myself, which is how I would call it instead, so I make a purchase as a reward for achieving some goal post in my career, for instance. So I can indeed look around my house and associate a large number of my belongings with important events. Hygge.

While I don't care about winter clothes, I do love a cozy blanket. Cozy blankets and fireplaces are big in hygge. Fireplaces are a bit of a no-brainer and we are fond of them in the U.S. I have one now, and do spend hours sitting in front of it and playing with it. I'm a fire sign and I believe that women are attracted to fire as the outward manifestation of the fire inside of us. I once watched a little girl approach one of those garbage can fires around which several of us were gathered during a winter art festival. The fascination. The hypnotic pull. The wonder. The glee. It was all there. Then her dad pulled her away. I was so pissed. At that moment, grumpy stick-in-the-butt dad put out her fire.

Keep your fires lit ladies!

Anyway. Moving on.

I love quiet. Quiet is best for hygge because you can HEAR. I know, right? Hygge likes music, of course, music is cozy, but quiet is good for hearing the birds, the water, all the good noises. In the reverse, I require a lot of white noise assistance to block out the crap. The airplanes, the loud cars, the sirens, the talking, the dog barking, the TV....I love quiet and am very sensitive to noise. Complication arises since so many noises don't sit right with me and because, I think due to a maternal instinct, and apparently due to the lack of boundaries other people displayed around me when I was growing up, I need to listen in order to protect myself and others. I'm often conflicted between the need for quiet and thus the need to turn on a fan to block out the crap and my need to hear if anyone is sneaking up on me. Sigh.

I put wine in anything I can and enjoy sitting down for a glass of wine, in a corner, with a book - and a cozy blanket. If possible, by a window. Apparently, this combination is like the grand prize of hygge. Hygge prefers sweet food and adding wine to your entree counts for this. You also often add wine to a dish that has to simmer a bit - hygge likes food that takes time to cook. Now, I'm not that big into dishes that take a long time to cook. I don't care about sourdough or anything else you have to baby or monitor over a long period of time. So in that sense I'm anti-hygge. And probably just American. But I do add wine and I do drink wine, one glass, around dinner-time.

When I was a kid I thought bay windows were the gods' gift to mankind. I'm a reader so that's natural. Like any avid reader I seek out little nooks, and I do love to sit by a window but it doesn't need to be a bay window anymore. I'm over that. But I am still keenly aware of design - and good design. I haven't made a concerted effort to include good design in my life (apparently the Danes call their TV shows "furniture porn" and will happily drop over a thousand bucks for a good lamp), but I am painfully aware of its absence and I sure do know what it is. I think fluorescent lighting is a curse and I understand that natural is better than artificial. Everything around me doesn't need to be made out of wood, I'm not that into "the rustic," but I can wabi sabi you all day long. And I get that those artificial flickering candle things a friend just gave me for Christmas are fun - but they are not hygge. We are using them anyway cuz glitter and sparkly lights can still make you feel cozy and secure - Christmas is the favorite hygge holiday - so Christmas-y type lights must be ok (the Danes tend to light candles instead). Hygge is what makes you feel secure in an insecure world. So if it's artificial colored lights then what-have-you.

Also, pockets of light. My boyfriend is unconsciously hygge in that he has stocked his apartment with standing lamps versus overhead lighting. Hygge prefers diffuse and indirect light.

Books. Now, the CEO of happiness did not mention how many. I am guessing being messy with your books is not hygge. A well-stocked and artistically laid out bookshelf is probably best. Kon Marie only allows 30 books, or so says the latest meme. That's crazy to a book lover. So while I doubt hygge promotes having sloppy piles of books or tons of books you will never read, I'm probably hygge in that I have a healthy set of bookshelves that are arranged attractively - and I have read all of them or only have a handful waiting to be read.

It's a challenge to be hygge in an extroverted world. A lot of people need noise. My boyfriend has just come home from a breakfast run to Chinatown. That's hygge, I think. Making a special trip to get a specific thing for breakfast because you wake up craving it and because that food brings you comfort. He's gotten me a pastry that I like, totally hygge, and he got it ready for me. I made my coffee. And I will join him. My boyfriend has to have the television going at all times (yes, I said "television," the snob version of TV). On my own, I never watch TV. Many years I didn't even own one. So the constant TV is a constant threat to my hygge. I will go sit with him, because sitting next to him is my hygge. I will enjoy my pastry and coffee and get as cozy as possible. Probably I will try to zone out some other way by playing a game on my computer* (I never use sound), so that I can block the TV out; but eventually, I will retreat to the bedroom, turn on the air filter so I can get some white noise, get under the covers, sit in my pocket of warm light, drink my coffee, and be as hygge as possible.

*technology is not very hygge by the way. Hygge needs in-person social contact and technology generally promotes being alone. Facebook can make us happy but it's on the bottom of the list.

Sometimes I look forward to going to bed so I can wake up and have my coffee. Reading this book made me realize that hygge can get you through life. Give you something to look forward to.

Damn. I think the Danes are onto something. And I thank goodness that I was able to get onto it myself.

My hygge reading nook is coming along. I don't use it all the time, yet it's comforting to me just to know it's there.

Not everyone is in love with fall

While I am as big a fan of pumpkin-flavored everything as anyone, the onset of autumn is a difficult time for me, for many reasons. I am a summer baby, I love summer, I crave summer, and I fear the end of summer. So when everyone (and it feels like it's "everyone") starts posting daily about how excited they are that fall is here, it's very difficult for me. Because I'm in mourning. My favorite season is ending. And in spite of all the folks who showed us their beach pics over the summer, no one else seems to care that it's over.

I looked it up and there is actually a Seasonal Affective Disorder that some people feel at the end of summer. There are people that feel anxious fall is starting. Not everyone is excited! People, like me, who mourn the passing of summer, might feel anxious for weeks at the end of August and into September. They might feel anxious for the missed opportunities, what they didn't get done, that summer body they didn't achieve. They might feel anxious for the start of school and changes in daily routines that were modified over the summer.

Me. It's the sun. I am sad I will not be feeling the warm sun on my skin. Where I live, once September hits, it's almost never. And that fall sun doesn't feel the same. I know that winter will last "forever" and I will be seriously in need of sun.

I don't care about winter clothes. Sure they hide more of the above-mentioned summer body that didn't happen, but I like summer clothes. I like cute dresses and flip flops.

And the traffic in the fall. Dear God. Summer is over and everyone is back to school, so while touristy traffic is over, day-to-day rush hour is worse. Much worse.

So the next time you post that scenic photo of autumn leaves, coffee and pumpkins, remember that not everyone loves fall. Some of us love summer. And because so many of you are so damn excited to go buy your pumpkin lattes, we feel like we don't have anyone to talk to about it. I know I can't post anywhere else, such as on any of my Facebook groups, because I would be ostracized for daring to say I'm not excited about Halloween. So I'm posting here. Be mindful. I'm in mourning. I love summer.