Verified by 
My mother didn’t have a drop of Scandinavian blood in her and for sure had never ever heard the expression Hygge, but she often served dinner by candlelight.
I’m not talking about special occasions, fancy china kind of dinners, but Kraft mac and cheese with green beans and a salad, canned tomato soup, and grilled cheese sandwiches, or chicken pot pies straight from the grocery store freezer to our table.
These simple candlelight meals often hinted that our father had been away just a beat too long on a business trip. In short, it had been a hard day and we were leaning on our mother’s last raw nerve.
Candlelight meant that we should sit still, be quiet, and eat in a civilized manner. Calm was called for, and we had better manage to get through the meal without a fight or a cross word or we would be sent to our rooms indefinitely, or at least until we were old enough to move out and fend for ourselves.
It was a warning.
These candlelit dinners were my favorite meals — paper napkins, everyday dishes, canned green beans and all — because they were everything we needed to get through another day with some grace.
When my husband and I had children, I broke out the candles. Not just on unraveled nerve nights but most nights because I remembered those candlelight meals and knew our children deserved a moment of calm at the end of the day as well as we did.
Enter Hygge and 2020.
We were introduced to the concept of Hygge (pronounced Hue-guh) late in 2019 by dear friends from Copenhagen. They had been living in our building while working on a project in the US and had joined a group of us who regularly shared meals together. They were getting ready to return to Denmark, and we had gathered in their home for a shared meal and an evening learning about Hygge.
Everyone brought a dish to share and dressed up for the occasion. We were sad our friends would soon be leaving but happy to have one more meal together.
The evening was lit by candlelight. Drinks were served. There was lots of talk, laughter, and good food. It was relaxing and soothing in the way spending time with good friends can be.
Hygge, beyond lighting candles and slowing down the pace of the day, is something you do for yourself to enjoy life in the moment.
Our friends left for Denmark, and before any of us really understood what 2020 was going to demand of us, we were knee-deep in anxiety, not knowing what was going to happen next. We never knew for sure what had hit us, never had a chance to catch our breath, and never could figure out or count on what was going to happen next.
In truth, we are still wondering when it will be safe to take our masks off, if our jobs will be secure, our community intact, and our children prepared to go back out into the world.
It’s been scary. Unsettling. Challenging. Isolating.
We have had to fashion nooks and crannies in our homes into little office spaces and homeschool corners. We’ve fallen into a domestic routine that is unlike any other we have known. Home is where we are, with just our immediate family 24/7. We’ve had to make peace and space with living together. Meals, well, meals, three of them, day in and day out.
Here’s my takeaway from 2020: When you aren’t exactly sure if we’ve rounded the corner on a week and are sitting squarely once again on a weekend, you have to do something to change the pace.
When I couldn't figure out if it was Wednesday or Saturday, I decided it was time to pull out the candles again. Ones I have been saving for holiday meals, ones my mother-in-law gave me 15 years ago when she downsized, a few handmade ones purchased at art shows, and two boxes of votives in case the lights go out.
We now eat lunch as well as dinner by candlelight. We talk a little softer once the candles are lit. Linger a little longer at the table as the candles burn down.
It’s a little bit of Hygge that reminds us it is okay to do something nice for ourselves and enjoy a kinder, calmer moment of life.
