The Introverted Season
Many a “people person” bemoans the onset of winter. Especially as the solstice approaches, the meager daylight dwindling, the weather and the darkness and the temperature are lamented in daily chorus wherever one encounters extroverts. If anything, pandemic life has only intensified impatience for the season which, let’s face it, comes and goes every year at the same glacial pace, no matter how much we fuss. Winter will not be rushed. So, I say, it’s time to embrace it.
Trendwatchers have decided that the Danes are way ahead of us. The Scandinavians know a thing or two about long winters, and the Danish in particular have long endorsed the concept of hygge as part of their national identity– hygge being defined as “a quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being.” (Oxford Languages.) The word itself supposedly comes from a root meaning “comfort,” the same word from which the English hug is derived. (Couldn’t you use a hug about now?)
Of course, to hope to distill an intrinsic part of another culture into a brief blog article is foolish, if not courting offense. I wouldn’t dare. If you must do winter fashionably, feel free to read for yourself the myriad books or articles on hygge and show us how it’s done. If you just want a shortcut to not hating your life in the grim and frosty months, now is the time to look, at last, to the introverts.
We love you, you see. Through the sunny, activity-packed summers of life, many a kindly extrovert has shepherded their less boisterous friends over the hurdles of a reluctant party-attending, pop concert-surviving, sport event-enduring, generally overstimulating social landscape. Now that the quiet season is upon us, please allow us to return the favor.
Y’all, we’ve been doing this for years.
Give in to fuzzy knitwear.
High heel shoes and stomach-squeezing skinny jeans are for other people. Fleece leggings and butter soft jumpers are for you. There’s even a word for this in Danish - hyggebusker, “the one pair of pants you really should never wear in public but are a favorite anyway because they’re so comfortable,” according to the New York Times.
Put the kettle on.
It is a truth universally acknowledged that a hot drink makes everything okay. When my first childhood pet died, the first thing my British mom did was make me a hot cup of tea. Caffeine and five-year-olds are normally not a good combination. In this case, it solved everything. Even better, since we’re all grown-ups now, spike it. Now you’re warm inside and outside, and you’re ready for step 3
Have a conversation.
Extroverts do not need introverts to teach them to have a conversation. Let’s just get that out of the way. But sometimes the most social of social butterflies find it challenging to go deep. Introspection can be daunting, but winter is the time. Covid has already derailed two years’ worth of plans. Even the most dedicated introvert is getting sick of the sound of their inner monologue by now. Fortunately, “truce” is an important element of hygge, so no controversial topics allowed! Instead, let’s have a socially responsible friend or two over (in person or on Zoom) and finally find out what really makes each other tick.
Learn how not to have a conversation.
A soft snowfall outside your window. A good book. A crackling fire. A cat asleep on your lap. What do these things have in common? “A quality of coziness and comfortable conviviality that engenders a feeling of contentment or well-being.” Just remember, ‘Winter isn’t doing this to me. I’m doing this on purpose. I’m practicing the Danish art of hygge. I’m a trendsetter!’ If it makes you feel better, post about it on Instagram.
So may your Winter be delightful. As for me, I’m in no rush for Spring.