Embracing the cold, dark and staying at home life... following the Hygge approach (well, sort of)

This is the time of year when I turn into some reptilian, lizard-like sun seeker.  Any moment when there is a clearing in the grey cloud and some rays of sunshine miraculously peep through, I am excited.  Perhaps I have a sun-craving syndrome, as I will grab a coat and get outside as soon as I see the sun appear.  It feels like a tonic and a much needed uplift, especially during this pandemic winter.  Even if it is only 5 degrees outside, as it was today, you will find me wrapped up by the sea for those rare moments of sunshine.

If times were normal, I would have a plan to travel to somewhere warm for a few weeks this winter.  The most incredible benefit from taking a break from my teaching career is that I have been able to travel off-peak in early December or January when it is SO cheap in comparison to taking holidays at peak-times.  In the last couple of years, we have escaped to Nerja in Spain which is lovely and quiet in the winter, yet warm enough for both walking and relaxing outside with a few less layers needed.  I've justified these winter escapes as being therapeutic, as both my health and recovery from bereavements have added to my need for a sunny tonic.  This photo is actually from January 2020 in Nerja, when life was rather more normal.

Instead, we are here still in our seaside town, of course, where else could we be?  I am already struggling with the days when there is no blue sky or sun appearing.   I am still spending time out into nature, just a little greyer or wetter than ideal.  I have done long walks along the sea front in torrential rain and icy winds.  I can still meet friends outdoors I remind myself, this is great!  Except how on earth do we make plans to sit and have a chat on the beach when it may rain or be freezing cold?

Some days I wonder if I should just embrace how things are, rather than trying to fight it or escape.  I am living a more hermit life right now than I would normally choose.  I'm embarrassed to admit it, but recently the most exciting thing on some rainy days has been the post arriving (it might be that second-hand book I am waiting for).  Or leaving the house to go to the Click and Collect for our occasional supermarket shop (the most wonderful pandemic discovery of late).  Or seeing a neighbour to say hello to while out on a walk (social contact ticked off).  Such things that previously would have been in the background of a day have recently started to take centre stage.  I'm not really a very good hermit, as after a few days of this I start to get itchy feet, the urge to DO something slightly different or to just spend more time outdoors.

I know people who really do embrace this time of year, even in the pandemic which is making us more home-bound.  I look at them with complete bewilderment as they describe loving the festive lights, the snuggly nights watching films, the cosy jumpers, the dark nights and warm fires.  Seriously?  I want to leap on a long distance train (or plane) and be hiking in the sunshine and savouring longer evenings and palm trees.  Sometimes I feel like I am counting down the days until the spring reappears.  

This pandemic journey has involved searching for ways to find some comfort within a difficult time.  So to help relax into the winter, I am reading about Hygge, the Danish concept that we probably all know well.  Hygge describes "a feeling of cosiness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of wellness and contentment".  Finding indoor conviviality is going to be much more difficult with social restrictions, as here in "Tier 3" we can't gather anywhere indoors with others. Softly-lit, warm coffee shops and hugs with friends will have to replaced with life at home, once again.  As my main recent conversations with my partner have revolved around discussions of rodent activity, filling rodent holes and rat-man appointments plus equally exciting discussions about a new front door, this probably does not meet the conviviality aspect either.

But cosiness, I can do.  Much as bemoan being stuck indoors in the winter, I do secretly enjoy cosiness.  Even though I'm being slightly adventurous in my winter swimming forays, the part I really love is the cosy, warming-up process afterwards.  I take my warmest fleecy top and trousers onto the beach and I discreetly put them on after swimming under my enormous Dryrobe.  Then I add more cosy layers at home of fluffy socks and extra thermals.  A hot chocolate and a slice of gluten-free home-made cake is essential.  Finally, once my body has recovered I can then have a warm bath and put all the fleecy layers back on.  So even though I might appear as a brave adventurer, perhaps I am a little more Hygge than I realised.

I should have told the postman this in fact, when he knocked on the door the other afternoon with my second-hand book (finally).  I was very embarrassed that I was wearing the fleecy, post swimming clothing as described and I wanted to explain that this was not my normal attire. Fortunately he was in a rush and missed the whole story.  So while I am not about to shop for scented candles and slippers on a Hygge website, maybe I can manage to embrace a kind of cosy that includes outdoor swimming, hiking or just plain sitting in the sunshine.  

Nerja beach in Spain earlier this year (January 2020)

Enjoying some comfort during these challenging winter weeks sounds more nourishing than reading research about the latest vaccine and pondering whether it is safe or not.  Being at home this winter will be just how it is, one moment sunny and glorious and the next grey and chilly.  Moaning about the weather won't change it or make me feel any better... But I can still dream every now and then of deep blue skies and palm trees of southern Spain.

"Whatever the present moment contains, accept it as if you had chosen it.  Always work with it, not against it"  Eckhart Tolle


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