Hygge Reflections
How I rolled my eyes when hygge became a trend back in 2017. Yet another exotic Scandinavian concept for us to aspire to and yet ruin by not being blonde enough, not having the right woolly jumper and only having a radiator to snuggle up to instead of an open fire. Annoyingly, however, I am as much of a sucker for thick socks and candles as the next person and the recent cold snap gave me plenty of opportunity to flex my hygge muscles.
A hygge setup of a candle, lavender, a mug of tea and a stack of books on a blanket.
I first became aware of hygge – or mys as the Swedes call it – as an exchange student in northern Sweden in the early 1990s. I became aware that making things mysig was highly valued: a little tablecloth, candles, flowers, making a non-threatening, non-showy effort. Fredagsmys (Friday mys) was a big thing in my host-family. Every Friday we would have the neighbours in for coffee, cheese and biscuits and to watch a favourite television programme together. I loved it. With the winter lasting pretty much from November to April, there was a lot of opportunity for mys and with so little sunlight, candles were as much about bringing light and warmth as they were about style.
In fact our northern cousins like to remind us that hygge is not so much about the stuff but about the atmosphere, the vibe, the mood: cossetting, cocooning, convivial. You can’t simply buy the kit and, hey presto: instant hygge! If you don’t feel warm, comfortable and safe, all the rustic mugs in the world aren’t going to help. In the aftermath of the pandemic, and constantly assaulted by harrowing headlines, is it any wonder that people are asking,
“What if our obsession with cosiness has risen in step with our growing feeling of collective precariousness?…the colder and more brutal it is in the outside world, the more it feels precious and delicious to be inside our homes”
Kathryn Jezer-Morton writing in the Guardian
I expect a lot of us will be able to relate or aspire to this, depending on our home setup. To experience hygge is wonderful and meets all sorts of emotional and sensory needs and, as a Christian, I have come to the following realisations as I think about it: firstly, to crave hygge is part of what we are made for: rest, fellowship, warmth - in every sense - , beauty and good things. Aware as we are of our world groaning “as in the pains of childbirth”, it’s no wonder that we long to snuggle under a blanket away from it all with only our best people for company. But…to ONLY hygge (literally, socially, spiritually) might be to miss out on the good works that God has given us to do, in his strength and for his glory. Secondly, Jesus is the fulfilment of hygge. In him alone are we ultimately safe, nourished, sustained and empowered. Cinnamon buns ARE amazing but they’re not, alas, the bread of life. Jesus is. And because of him we are equipped to venture out of our hyggelig cocoons and into the daunting, messy world around us.
Please don’t hear me saying that we can’t have nice things or must never hunker down for an evening (or a weekend, or longer, come to that). I have known marriages founder and good people burnout from want of this: the relentless cramming of every waking minute, guilt over needing a break, lack of permission to spend time *just* with your spouse or friends or alone sometimes. We are made to need rest, its not a design fault!
The good news is that a time is coming when we won’t need to create hygge for ourselves. There will no longer be any need to escape or cocoon ourselves away. The warmth, the comfort and the feeling of being held will be our new life with the one who will wipe every tear from our eyes.
In the meantime, we can draw comfort from some of Jesus’ words to his disciples in John’s gospel: Take heart! I have overcome the world. May they be as hygge to us, whatever we’re doing.
~ Cat Senior
