hyg·ge, /ˈh(y)o͞oɡə,ˈho͝oɡə/, noun

  1. a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being (regarded as a defining characteristic of Danish culture).

Shout out to my favorite teacher I’ve ever had Steve (not sponsored) for telling me about the Danish cultural tradition of hygge. It’s definition, as stated above, is all about bringing comfort and coziness levels way up in your life. Now THAT is a cultural practice I can get behind. 

I’ve never met a fuzzy blanket or fluffy pillow that I didn’t love. On Black Friday, the only thing on  my mind was getting expensive $50 pillows that were then on sale for $6.99. I stan comfort. 

You know what I don’t stan? (For anyone over the age of 25, “stan” is like a super fan.) 

But you know what I don’t stan? Sunsets at 4 p.m., 35 degree weather, and seasonal depression. And yet I have to live with all of those. 

But hygge is much more than a cozy blanket, a pillow, and a soft candle lit in a corner. The best way I can describe it is in one specific moment that happens this week on campus. Hygge, to me, is being wrapped up in the warm feeling that grows in your spirit when the trees on Red Square go from boring, sad, and low-key weird to being lit up in a magical mass of white sparkling lights. There’s magic in the air when one second you are standing in darkness and the next the entire bleak, depressing, dark entryway of our campus is lit up with sparkling, beautiful, white lights. 

Finding the hygge in life is about creating joy and finding comfort even when there is darkness; especially as we enter this evaluation time and the finality of the quarter looms large. But that even can be eclipsed by the terror that the holidays can bring. 

Now don’t get me wrong, the holidays can be the most wonderful time of the year. I’m a big Christmas music fan. The Jonas Brothers have a new Christmas song out and I’m all about it. However, there is a real sadness many people feel around this holiday season and we would all be neglectful if we were to ignore that reality. Maybe this is the first holiday season without a loved one or maybe being with your loved ones causes you stress. Real life holidays are much different than Hallmark movies. 

Finding the hygge in the season of sorrow is not only a good idea but a real imperative. Finding those people that make you feel seen, heard, and loved is important. One of the greatest ways to heal your own heart is to give back to others in your community. In this issue of the paper, there is a great article written by Jackson about The Evergreen State College’s Center for Community-Based Learning and Action (CCBLA), which is a great resource for volunteering in the community. 

Comfort does not always come wrapped in a bow—it’s rarely actually something that can be bought. You can buy temporary comfort. Life is a lot more temporarily bearable when you have fuzzy socks on. But joy that is lasting is a much more special treat. For myself, I find comfort in knowing that I was created on purpose for a purpose, and attending a candlelight service on Christmas Eve is how I am reminded that even on life’s darkest days there is hope in the morning. For my friend Abbie, there is no greater joy and comfort in the world than a freshly brewed hot cup of tea. For Jeorgia, comfort comes from baking pies with her mom and giving them to her neighbors. 

Whatever it means to you to add more light to your life, run to that. Chase that. Life is full of cycles and seasons. If you’re in a darker season now just remember so is the world around you. The days will literally only get darker until Dec. 21, then Dec. 22 brings us the joy of the days getting longer again. There will be a little bit more sun and a little bit more hope. My holiday wish is that everyone will be able to find their hygge this season and hold on to it.