Column: Danish "hygge," and the importance of embracing winter

I thought the recent “icy mix” storm was going to undo all the work I’ve been doing to embrace winter.

As I trudged out to the backyard coop to feed our three chickens, I could not think one uplifting thought. I just wanted to get the job done and get back into the house.

Winter is not my favorite season. I don’t like being wet and cold. I have, on occasion, cross-country skied and snowshoed, but I don’t feel any particular motivation to do so. The aspect of such activities that I like best is coming home and having hot chocolate.

Then I saw an axiom that supposedly comes to us from the Norwegians: “There is no bad weather, only bad clothing.

Hmm. I had what is called a paradigm shift. My viewpoint changed in an instant. Perhaps, if I dressed appropriately and accepted the fact that inclement weather is unavoidable, I might be able to develop a better attitude toward winter.

My idea was reinforced when I watched a Danish miniseries called “Borgen.” The Danes seem to handle winter very well. Later I learned they also have a concept called “hygge,” which roughly translates as “coziness.” Promoting “hygge” helps them get through their long, cold and, I must point out, dark winters.

Now, I am not a person who wears shorts in the cold months. As a school librarian, I shudder (or perhaps, shiver) when I go into my high school in January behind students who are wearing canvas sneakers and low-cut socks. There are always a few boys who seem to wear shorts year-round. I wear a parka, gloves, scarf and boots—and when the weather is really nasty, a hat. I have a long coat for the coldest days.

But I must admit that I never really thought about using clothing as a sort of winter armor, even though I’ve lived in New England all my life. My dress for winter is a knee-jerk reaction, a routine. Put on the coat and gloves and scarf and sally forth—and endure the cold. Don’t expect much. Now I think, “I can handle this weather if I am prepared. I can do this.” I do not need to suffer.

There are drawbacks to this approach. A big one is “hat hair.” In our culture, staticky hair that lies flat in some places and sticks up straight in others is not seen as a normal winter phenomenon. I have some attractive winter hats, but I prefer to wear them to places where I can keep them on, such as a mall, or a dark place, like a movie theater. I hate wearing them to work because I end up spending an inordinate of time fussing with my hair with one hand while typing with the other.

Another problem is that we live in an overheated world. I can leave my 19th-century house, which we keep on the cool side, dressed appropriately for the weather, and walk five minutes to the supermarket. There, I have to take off  my coat and hat lest I melt in the cookie aisle. One day I battled fierce, chilly winds to go into a department store. Same thing. Once I got inside, it was like I was suddenly transported to Margaritaville—without the margaritas.

Of course, it’s different in metropolitan areas, where most people are walking and taking mass transit. Most of the action in “Borgen” takes place in Copenhagen. When you are in a city and have to be out in the elements for blocks, you are going to be dressed appropriately. Businesses and offices are going to recognize that and not overheat their premises.

In our car-centered society, people preheat their cars remotely from their kitchens, go into their garages in pajama bottoms and a fleece top, drop off their kids at school and do a grocery run. It may be 15 degrees out, but they are not outside long enough to appreciate it. Everyplace they go, it’s warm.

I’m not against warmth. I love it. When I have a snow day off from school, I enjoy sitting in my “reading nook” with my two dogs. I sit in a big club chair with a throw on my legs, and they lie on the big ottoman, next to and on top of my legs. It’s so cozy. It’s “higgle.”

However, if I am going to truly meet my goal of embracing winter, I need to be fearless about being outside. I channel the characters from one of my favorite mystery series, the “Inspector Gamache” novels by Louise Penny.

These Québécois have their own version of “hygge,” which includes wood fires, hot toddies, cocoa and fantasy trips to warmer climes. But they also venture out into the elements, dressed in “tuques” (watch caps) and heavy coats and “mitts.” The whole idea of Québec City’s Winter Carnival is based on the premise that cold and ice and snow can be celebrated. Of course, I’m choosing to ignore the fact that fueling up with spirits is a big part of that endurance.

I made it out to the chicken coop and back twice that stormy day. The “wintry mix” was such a strange form of precipitation that the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration website described it not as freezing rain or sleet but as  an “unknown.”

That was scary. But once back inside, I took off my parka, gloves and tuque. I removed my L.L. Bean boots with the ice grippers attached. I made a cup of tea. I went to my reading nook.

OK, I admit it. That last step was the best part of all.