Hygge season: Learning to winter like the Danes

Picture this: You’re wrapped in a blanket, your cozy wool socks keeping your toes toasty, a cup of tea warming your palms. Candlelight flickers against the cabin wall as rain patters against the window. 

This is the pinnacle of hygge.

The Danish concept (pronounced hoo-gah) rose to global consciousness when it made the shortlist for the Oxford Dictionaries’ 2016 Word of the Year. Its closest English relative is “coziness,” which conveys an intimate connection to warm and fuzzy feelings with hints of safety. 

Meik Wiking, author of “The Little Book of Hygge,” and founder and CEO of the Happiness Research Institute in Copenhagen, has spent his professional life researching what makes people happy; in Denmark, hygge is a major driver. 

“Denmark is by no means a perfect utopia,” Mr. Wiking writes in the book, “but I do believe Denmark can be a source of inspiration for how countries can increase the quality of life of their citizens.” 

Denmark has some of the highest taxes in the world. But Mr. Wiking writes that most Danes are fine with it; it’s an investment in their society’s well-being that ensures the basic needs of its people are met. This frees up time and energy to spend on lots of things – including hygge.

“Hygge in Denmark is part of everyday life. It’s part of the culture and language; you are not aware of it until someone points it out,” Catarina Lachmund, a senior analyst at the Happiness Research Institute, told me in an email. She said that in Denmark, places strive to be described as hyggeligt (hoo-gah-lit), or having achieved ultimate levels of hygge. 

When I first learned about hygge a few years back, it seemed to be the stuff of dreams. Even now, it feels out of reach in the United States, with its constant cultural pressure to have more and do more. Hygge, to me, seemed to be an invitation to slow down – and find peace doing so. I wanted that, if for no other reason than to gain that sense of calm in my fast-paced life. 

Of course I could buy more candles; Mr. Wiking writes that more than 85% of Danes most associate hygge with candles. I could put on my hyggebukser (hoo-gah-buksr), that worn pair of sweatpants that should never be seen by another human. Or, I could do some renovating. According to the book, I just need to look around and ask myself: How would a Viking squirrel decorate this room? 

And yet, if hygge is more than just things, and rather a way of life, perhaps there’s a way I can give myself a bit of a nudge to not just have hygge things, but to do hygge things. 

Flipping through my options, I find my answer: Søndagshygge (Sun-das-hoo-gah), the word for hygge you have on Sundays. I laugh out loud. I can’t think of a better place to start. 

In the U.S., many of us have a very different relationship with Sundays: the Sunday scaries.

This uniquely American phenomenon occurs on Sundays when your heart and mind fill with dread, realizing your weekend has come to a close and you have to reckon with Monday morning. In fact, a 2018 survey from LinkedIn found that nearly 80% of American adults – and over 90% of Gen Zers and millennials – worry about the upcoming week on Sundays. 

And yet, the Danes don’t face the same sort of dread on a Sunday night.

“Experts tell you to pack your Sunday with getting ready for Monday to make Monday easier,” says Stephanie Pedersen, Danish American author of “American Cozy: Hygge-Inspired Ways To Create Comfort & Happiness.” “A Dane would really never do that. ... Work is going to be there tomorrow. So there’s no reason to bring it into today.” 

I’ve often felt that dread creep into my Sundays. I asked Ms. Pedersen what she would do if she needed to reclaim her Sundays, in the name of hygge.

“De-clutter,” she says unequivocally. “And I’m not just talking about de-cluttering your bedroom or your pantry closet.” She suggests taking a hard look at all aspects of our lives, everything from our Google Calendars to our kids’ schedules to the number of people on our holiday card list. Americans have this knee-jerk reaction to do it all, she explains, but there’s value to creating space. 

I’ve started to take her advice and have already noticed a change. No more cleaning on Sundays. Even when that dust bunny hops across the floor, I let it be until Monday. On Sundays, our calendar stays clear. When my thoughts start to creep to the work tasks awaiting me on Monday morning, I say, “Nope! My thoughts are for me and my people today.” 

One recent Sunday, I sat with my 2-year-old son as he played. I took in his look of concentration, focused intently on his wooden train set. I noticed that his baby-soft locks have given way to little-boy hair. I scooched over to him, gave him a hug, and kissed his plump little cheek. I felt no need to rush off and fill the day with a thousand tasks. This was all that Søndagshygge asked of me: to be present for the ones I love. 

“[Scandinavian concepts like hygge] all place an importance on embracing the small pleasures which bring us happiness ­­– the things which make life great. Like being together – it’s about intimacy,” Mr. Wiking says in an email. 

Hygge is about more than cozy socks and fluffy blankets. It can be found at a summer barbecue, on the beach reading a good book with your toes in the sand, or in the kitchen making fresh bread simply to give it a try. Hygge is about connecting to the moment and can be embraced anywhere, regardless of the backdrop. While accessories may amplify a hyggeligt moment of calm, they don’t have the power to create it. We have to create space for that ourselves.

“Stuff doesn’t anchor you,” Ms. Pedersen says. “Intention does.”