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Thu Nguyen's avatar

This is so spot on, it takes my breath away: What if our obsession with coziness has grown in step with our growing feeling of collective precariousness -- economic, environmental, social?

It's like I desperately want to embrace this season, but why??? I don't like hot chocolate. I am a Vietnamese refugee who grew up in Florida, and actually find this weather antithetical to my whole tropical existence. A Pendleton blanket is not going to solve all my problems.

But what's the alternative, really? Fight the season, tooth and nail? Be called a Grinch? I am reminded of reading Wintering by Katherine May last year, and finding hope in the idea of settling into the hardness of this season, the way it challenges me, the way it will always challenge me. And if I acknowledge the real difficulty there, then I can start to address it individually and collectively.

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Leila's avatar

This is fantastic, so spot on. Somewhat related, I read this article last year and it helped me reframe my approach to MN winter. It felt like a more practical and realistic approach to Hygge, one that focuses on preparation for the season and a mindset shifts during the cold months of the year.

https://www.nytimes.com/2020/10/15/well/mind/Scandinavia-Norway-Winter-Mindset.amp.html

I don’t think it’s as easy as saying, don’t feel depressed when the reality is, winter reduces our Vitamin D and contributes to depression, but it is a reminder that stepping outside, among other suggestions, during winter can reverse those effects and be refreshing mentally and physically refreshing.

I also think one’s ability to be cozy, hyyge, or appreciative of winter relies heavily on wealth. I used to cheap out on winter things because I didn’t want to spend 200+ dollars on the good gear. But once I did, I realized how life changing it was to have a heavy coat, good gloves and solid boots. In many ways, things that are a luxury for many. My house is heated, I can buy all the fixings for soup, and as many candles as I want to contribute to my attempt at coziness. But without that disposable income, winter would feel like an even bigger burden and source of stress as well as life or death if I can’t stay properly warm. I can shift my mindset all I want, but if I can’t afford the resources to do so, no mental shift will keep me warm and cozy enough to survive winter.

I guess living in the Midwest, I see cozy as more than just a feeling but an actual survival instinct to survive the winter mentally and physically. So many of the ways we indicate coziness are very white. As a black prison, I rarely saw winter as being my season. It always felt like it was a time of the year only white people could only appreciate. I don’t ski, snowboard, ice fish, etc, so what is winter for me if just a major hassle. Then there are the reflections of coziness on social media. So often they don’t feature POC or highlight our own cozy traditions. So again, who gets to be cozy in all this? Having time to be, feel and think of coziness is really a luxury. One that can only be felt if you feel you truly belong in a space and have all your most basic needs met.

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