Why Clutter Isn't Cozy
My apologies to those of you who get the warm and fuzzies from flip flops, sandy toes, and the sweet smell of sunscreen, because I’m a firm believer that fall is the best time of year – giving me the literal warm and fuzzies by way of warm sweatshirts and fuzzy socks.
Cozy is my habitat of choice. I want blankets. I want steaming mugs of hot liquid. I want butternut squash soup and lumberjack flannels and high-waisted stretchy pants. These things pair best with crisp air and dormant mosquitoes.
In other words, I’m thriving.
Even in northwest Florida, I wore a sweater to church this morning. Praise be to Jesus!
It makes me want to share with you one of my favorite lifestyle concepts by the name of hygge (pronounced hoo-gah, which makes it as fun to say as it is to practice).
Hygge is a Danish term that describes their country’s culture of intentional coziness: Small get-togethers with friends, homemade comfort food, low lighting, and warm beverages. You see, despite having one of the gloomiest climates in the world, Denmark consistently ranks as among the happiest countries in the world. And much research attributes their contentment to this tradition of hygge.
When we slow down to enjoy meaningful connection with just a handful of people, toss off the distractions, and become entirely present in the moment, we experience a sense of peace. A posture of contentment.
Cooler weather brings with it a natural inclination to huddle together. To curl up. To crunch leaves, light a candle, and indulge in heartier meals. When you step back and look at it all, what we see is the basics of a simple life:
Quality relationships over quantity.
Nourishing food.
Warmth and safety.
Presence of mind.
Not wanting.
Not comparing.
Not numbing.
Simplifying life by way of decluttering and intentional living - the premise of my professional work - isn’t really about all the stuff. It’s about what all the stuff is getting in the way of. It’s about what we’re missing when we bog down our homes and lives with more than we can manage.
You can hardly summon the idea of hygge by imagining piles of paper on the kitchen island or a room bursting with piles needing your attention. Danes are minimalists for a reason. We must let go of the things that don’t matter, and make room for more community, calm, and butternut squash soup.
