Hygge and the Holidays: Creating Presence at Home

As the year draws to a close and the days grow shorter, there’s an unspoken invitation in the air —  to find presence in the quiet corners of our lives. To soften,— to turn inward

In the Nordic countries, where darkness comes early and winter stretches long, there’s a word that holds this energy beautifully: Hygge.

More than just candles and blankets — though those certainly help — hygge is a way of being. It’s about creating warmth, simplicity, and comfort, not just in our homes but in how we show up in our lives.

And maybe we may need this reminder most of all during the holidays.

Because let’s be honest — the holiday season can be a lot.
Even in its joy, it can come with pressure: to do more, host more, be more present, to feel more of everything. It can overload our senses with its loudness, brightness and fastness.

Hygge asks something different of us.

It invites us to slow down.
To notice the light of a candle instead of the glow of a screen.
To linger over a warm drink instead of rushing through another to-do.
To be with, rather than perform for.

For me, hygge has nothing to do with styling or perfection.
But about presence.

It's the warmth of how my soft socks feel at the end of the day.
The way the soup smells as it simmers on the stove.
The way a quiet room can wrap an invisible hug around you like a blanket when you take that pause.

It’s not about wanting more — it’s about savoring what’s already here.

And that presence doesn’t have to be loud or performative.
It can be quietly sacred.

I’ve come to see this season not as something to manage, but something to welcome —  just as I am.

Even on the days when things seem messy or my energy is mellow, I can ask myself:

What would it take to be fully present and at home in myself?

Maybe it’s dimming the lights and lighting a candle while I cook.
Maybe it’s putting on my wool slippers and listening to music that reminds me to breathe.
Maybe it’s taking a few extra minutes to sit with my tea and let the silence speak.

Hygge is kind of a ritual.
Not grand, but grounding.
Not aesthetic, but alive.

It roots me in the now. And it reminds me that the most meaningful parts of the holidays often live in the smallest moments — a shared look, the feeling of tradition and comfort of something familiar, — the permission to be fully human in the midst of it all.

So if the season feels overwhelming, and you’re craving space to come back to yourself, maybe give this a try:

Don’t add more, - simplify. What are you prioritizing?
Take that pause.
Notice, and remember what brings you warmth.
Let that be enough.

In the end, hygge isn’t about creating something new.
It’s about noticing what’s already holding you. And who you are.

What would it look like to feel at home, right now, in this moment?