let's hygge

it seems my entire life i've been obsessed with things danish.  my favorite day trip when i was a child was a visit to solvang, a wee danish village smack dab in the middle of california.  as a young adult, i fell in love with danish mid-century modern furniture.  copenhagen is on my bucket list.  i live and love my life with a characteristically strong yet sensitive danish man.

as our winters continue to get longer and grayer and colder here in virginia, i'm intrigued by the concept of hygge, the danes' notion of staying cozy, warm and happy during winter months.  i am currently devouring the year of living danishly, by helen russell about a woman from london who moves to denmark.  a new friend describes hygge to her as, "having a cosy time."  she further explains that it is about home and warmth and food and drink and friendship.  and apparently those of us in extraverted-focused cultures like western europe and the americas have challenges with hunkering down, getting cozy and embracing the still silent winter.

as i continue to research hygge, i assess that i've done a pretty decent job of having it intuitively.  but this winter i want to be more intentional about having and doing it.  here are some ideas that have been swirling around my head:

getting outside
it is interesting that when i first started thinking about hygge, i associated it as going outdoors more in the winter, about exploring and embracing the natural beauty of virginia during her coldest days. this can include:

• walks in the snow
• snuggling up by the backyard campfire
• foraging for shed deer antlers (we have a herd of six deer who regularly graze through gypsy hill.  occasionally we spy the elder buck.  this year he was seen sporting five-point antlers.  i'm hoping he sheds them in our forest.) 
• finding an outdoor christmas or winter market to explore
• a weekend trip to hot springs (because hot natural mineral tubs in the snow!)

light
the short days of winter often take their toll on me emotionally.  i require regular sunshine to function well.

• this summer ken installed a giant skylight in the kitchen.  it has already made a huge difference in the quality of light in our home.  our house is surrounded by tall forest trees, when they shed their leaves in autumn, natural sunlight pours through the windows.  now it is going to be superilluminated.
• we replace our lightbulbs in winter with brighter lights and more wattage.  (also, i am still missing incandescent bulbs...cannot get on board with l.e.d. or even halogens...)
• thinking about glow as a substitute for light...massive amounts of candles, hanging lanterns and twinkle lights are a must.

cultivating inner warmth
there is no better way than yoga, friends.  it physically warms the body and a regular practice produces an inner glow that cannot be replicated.

• this winter i'll be doing yoga teacher training with my friend and teacher cyndi lee.  
• extra warmth and friendship guaranteed by the beautiful sangha at yoga goodness studio
• my weird schedule this summer and fall has required me to get committed to a regular home (and hotel) practice...this will serve me well on those days when we are snowed in.

tea (and other liquid warmth)

• of course i have to have my coffee in the morning, but i love having hot tea the rest of the day
• we have the best local organic tea at good karma tea company (you can order online if you don't live here).  the company is run by two amazing women and i got to design their logo.
• i like to experiment with making my own blends as well
• i've also become accustomed to sipping a mug of hot water several times per day
• and my go-tos chai and tazo passion

painting
winter days when not a lot is going on provide large chunks of time to be in the studio.  this winter:

• complete the commissioned ganesh (he's almost done!)
• paint BIG; four huge blank canvasses are waiting
• the interior walls of the house feel like they need something new as well...
• finishing up a painted mandala on the front brick porch
• sharing it with others via collaborative paintings and workshops

poetry and books
so many books in the "to read" stack and so many more stories i'm craving, including:

• the muralist, by barbara shapiro
• the japanese lover, by isabel allende
• hunger makes me a modern girl, by carrie brownstein
• and we are forever adding vintage poetry books to our growing wall of lovely words

color and warmth
color is always important to me, but even more necessary when it is hazy white-gray outside.

nourishment

• i love making and eating soups from scratch, my favorites are chicken+white bean and superspicy carrot.
• i've been making my own bone broth as a base for all of them, bodies need extra fat and minerals during the winter months
• thinking about an organic citrus delivery service (the citrus available here is kind of blah)
• ditto avocados, they are required eating for this california girl and i am not down with the mealy watery ones of winter in the mid-atlantic
• but also focused on eating seasonally and researching what nutrients bodies need during the winter and that are grown locally...squash and kale, anyone?

rest well
you guys, bed is kind of my favorite place.  i am not at all averse to an 8pm bedtime.  most nights i sleep very soundly because:

• good sheets are a non-negotiable
• i like the air to be cool and the bed to be warm
• a big humidifier hums all through the night, for great sleep, great skin and great white noise.
• we make a good effort to limit other electronics/screens in the bedroom

(but sometimes i drink hot cocoa with marshmallows and binge-watch sex and the city.)

more hygge to come!

join me in turning our bad attitudes about winter into soft anticipation of a season of coziness and wonder.

sunday grace {and gratitude}

a golden lotus lamp hangs upside down over the dining room table and illuminates the space. sometimes i sit here in the soft focus of the early morning light, just before the sun peeks over the east side treeline and floods every corner of this room with brightness.  i just sit.  and in a practice of gratitude i take it all in, the mental inventory of goodness and abundance, of all the needs met.  i whisper thank yous and recognize the incomprehension of how this all happened and quickly swallow that always-present chaser of enjoy-it-while-you-can-because-things-can-change-at-any-second, that tastes somewhat like unworthiness.

gratitude {№11}

• raking leaves in the sunshine
• doggy heads poking out from leaf mountains
• gouda and apple on rosemary bread, grilled
• afternoon naps
• the first of what i hope to be the complete collection of vintage penguin poets paperbacks (d38, the metaphysical poets)
• the very last of the beautyberries trumpeting the final hurrah of autumn on gypsy hill
• home

sunday grace

our home is on a little hill we call gypsy hill.

it is sacred space and where all energy is replenished.

sunday mornings here are all about grounding.

and nourishment for body and soul.

and setting intentions for the week ahead (ace of wands:  inspiration, expansion).

and inhaling the beauty as the sun peaks over the tree line.

gratitude.

bits of magic here and there

the cold and dark winter is lingering well into spring.  this morning my little forest is covered in heavy white snow.  this is the latest blizzard we've experienced since moving to virginia nearly twelve years ago.  it's in my nature to be disappointed when expectations (bright sunny skies, blooming trees, hikes and picnics, etc.) are thwarted and my mood is certainly affected.  i find myself vacillating between wee temper tantrums and bouts of melancholy.

reluctantly, i move from resistance and solution-finding into acceptance and surrender.  i mean, it's the weather; there is not much i can control or direct there, right?  might as well enjoy one more week of hibernation and indulge in the bright side:

• a delightfully unexpected week home (all travel and classes cancelled this morning)
• time i didn't think i had to start seeds for the karma garden
• hot homemade spicy lentil soup is still appropriate
• been feeling tossed around a bit lately, i think i might need some time to find my footing
• the silence of the earth when covered in snow is so beautiful; winter truly is the introvert's season
• a stack of books and many naps
• gratitude for a heated house, healthy food, good sheets and warm bodies (of the human and canine variety) to snuggle

around here

there are spiritual conventions in the rarely-used upstairs fireplace-turned-alter.

there is avoiding work by drawing and coloring quirky little scandinavian flowers.

and there is the revelation that taking some time to do art leads to better, peaceful, more creative work.

there are many tea times during the day.  and sometimes espresso.

there is experimenting with vegan tuna salad.

because i really miss tuna salad.

this turned out eerily similar in taste and texture to the real thing.  rinse and drain a can of chickpeas and pulverize in the food processor.  sprinkle with kelp granules or sea kelp delight to add lots of healthy minerals and the taste of the ocean.  then just add your regular tuna salad ingredients.  i used vegan mayo, whole grain mustard, red onion, celery, sweet relish, capers and dill.  it's fantastic.

there is silence.

and thinking.

and dreaming.

and napping.

there is alchemy:  mixing essential oils to create an amazing fragrance.  the recipe was gifted to me by a dear friend who appreciates that i like to smell like campfire, coffee, jasmine and oranges.

there is art.

so far, february is pretty awesome.

snow day

honestly, it was a work day.

and the snow didn't start falling until around 5pm.

this is one of the delights of working (mostly) from home:  having a super flexible schedule.  being able to shut it down at 2, melt some chocolate in coconut milk, plop in a few cardamom marshmallows, cozy up on the sofa and watch two full episodes of sex and the city (from season four, my favorite).

there are a lot of challenges with working at home that i did not anticipate:

• it's hard to stay motivated to get your work done when you know you can just fit it in whenever.  the dogs (three very loud dogs) bark for ten minutes straight every single day when the mailman comes (apparently it's a daily ritual that they have enjoyed for years, and i cannot seem to convince them that the postman would be so much more impressed with a quiet greeting).   
• everyone else thinks you are available all the time.  
• it's easy to get distracted from work by housework, facebook, the need to get out in the sunshine. 

but the benefits far outweigh the challenges.  i am more productive and creative and i am completing a greater level and quality of work than i did in an office environment.  and no drama.

well, except for sex and the city.

peace

"this is the way of peace:  overcome evil with good, and falsehood with truth, and hatred with love."
-peace pilgrim

"peace is always beautiful."
-walt whitman

"all we are saying is give peace a chance."
-john lennon

have a beautiful christmas, loves.

gratitude: week four

on the day after thanksgiving, instead of indulging in black friday, we went to yogaville.

the last time we visited, i was in the midst of making the decision whether or not to leave my job and radically change my life.  yogaville provided the space and stillness to give me some clarity on the issue.

i am so very grateful for this open, loving, spiritual place that is quite unexpected in rural virginia.  being here instantly brings the familiar sense of groundedness that i've been blessed enough to experience in other beautiful places.

i am grateful for the sacred spaces i have known.

(photos taken friday at yogaville.)

i am grateful for the pacific ocean.  her name masks her fierceness and power.  i like that.

i am grateful for the tidepools she leaves behind.  she taught me that you can be bold and raw and honest and still create beauty and gentleness.  i am grateful for all those times i held the hand of my daddy while he told me the stories of the magical little sea worlds that exist in each and every tiny pool.

i am grateful for a home that is safe and warm and happy and peaceful.   living here makes me want to be more creative, more joyful, more loving.

i am grateful for my childhood home that i miss often and dream about with a sense of nostalgia and history and love and belonging.

i am grateful for forests and woods and mountains.  and for trails that help me be brave.

i am grateful for the 24"x72" yoga mat that i can roll out anywhere and transform my body, my mind, my spirit, my day, my life.

i am grateful for the places i have not yet been and who whisper to me that there is something for me to learn there.

my most favorite completely accidental self-portrait ever:  protection, wisdom, guidance, beginnings (all these ganesh gifts)...are within.

i am grateful for the practice of choosing which space to inhabit (i.e. yogaville over target) on any given day.  i am grateful for having those options.

i am grateful for learning (still learning, still practicing) that any space (even target) can be peaceful and transformed by awareness and appreciation of its unique beauty and stories.

gratitude: week three

happy thanksgiving friends.

i am so grateful for each of you.

i am grateful for this space to write it out and capture moments and cultivate a life of awareness.

also, so thankful for these things:

• my insatiable need for color
• the buddha on the thanksgiving table
• we've named him honey buddha
• as in "honey buddha don't care that there is no turkey"
• honey buddha also doesn't judge that there is lasagna and mashed potatoes
• thankful for meg worden and the work we did earlier this year
• and that i totally forgot to get the family-sized package of squishy rolls
• that's right, forgot, as in completely slipped my mind!
• because that job that made me want to stuff squishy rolls in my mouth is no longer mine to bear
• and other squishy roll needs are being met in more appropriate ways
• grateful that this list does not have to be serious
• because we do not have one single truly serious need
• so i will end it here
• and say a blessing for children living in fear and poverty and anger
• honey buddha cares about that
• and so do i

tiny figs and blue moon promises

in late spring the nice man at the garden store gave me a sad little fig tree for free.  he made me promise to take care of it and do my best to save it.  i took it home and put it in a big pot with great soil at the side of the house that gets good southern sun.  it's a good spot:  the place where all the herbs grow, there are butterflies and an old bike.

it didn't die as i think he expected.  but it didn't do much else.  it grew a few new leaves that remind me of a preschooler's clumsy drawing of a hand.  you know the one, where the hands are giant compared to the little stick body and look as it they are wearing mittens?  i really didn't know what to do to "save" it, other than give it some water and say hello every morning.  often i felt like i should be doing more, that a real gardener would have some fancy ph-soil additive or grafting thingamajig to give it its best shot in life. 

this morning i was doing a bit of extra tending to the pots at the side of the house.  i knelt down to pick some leaf litter from the soil of the fig tree's pot.  out of the corner of my eye, i saw several tiny green balls hidden underneath the mitten leaves.  figs!  two were turning purplish brown and let go of the tree when i touched them.

i ate them for lunch with goat cheese.  they were delicious.

tomorrow is a blue moon.  i read somewhere that it is a good time to make a promise to yourself.  i haven't yet decided what my promise will be but whatever it is i plan to just do my best and not worry about any fancy planning or techniques.  i will give my promise the best possible environment, lots of light and remember to check in with it every day.  i won't get discouraged when things are looking funky and progress seems doubtful.  i will trust that it will bear fruit. 

it's going to be delicious.

one hundred things i love {51-60}

51. the wee patio outside my kitchen door.  here lives a little herb garden, ivy growing wild and free and the rusty old blue schwin.
52. chai and rainbows.
53. that i can be in a total loser mood and force myself to think about ten things i love and the funk shifts.  just like that.
54.  heading to the karma garden first thing in the morning to water.  the combination of silence and growth makes it my favorite way to start a day.
55. wanderlust.  currently dissonantly dreaming about india and disneyland and dollywood and letting the pacific rush over me.
56.  my husband has the best voice.  seriously, sometimes he can be talking about our stock portfolio or mowing the lawn or taking the dog to the vet and i get all swoony.
57.  he reads to me in bed.  i am lucky.
58.  striped maxi skirts. 
59.  eating vegetarian.  because i can live on falafel and avocado and sweet potatoes.
60.  the traditional mennonite families that sell their fruit and veg and pie at the farmers market.  they have a quiet and solid presence that is so rare.  i am intrigued by their way of life.

picnic {№13}

a day off.

the best story i've read in a long time.

sunny and seventy-five degrees.

a girl and her backyard.

perfection.

winterlove {№3}

i love the light that streams through our windows on sunny winter days.  there are loads of trees surrounding our home and the light is filtered with leaves the rest of the year.  but for now until about the middle of april, i'm enjoying the bright clear light.

i crank up the electric blanket, brew myself a cup of tea and settle under the sheets with a good book.  winter's pace gives me freedom to really slow down and rest.  i don't feel the same pressure to do as i often feel in warmer months.

the weekend doesn't feel long enough.  i'm still waiting for a nice safe snow day.  on monday, i had the dogs and my laptop in bed with me and watched all seven episodes of downton abbey, season one.  have you seen this?  i'm obsessed.  i haven't thrown myself this far into a television show since sex and the city.  i'm all caught up now and can't wait for sunday night to see what happens next.

winterlove {№2}

one more workday loves, then i'm all about the coziness of home on this first really cold weekend of winter.  the only things on my schedule besides yoga are reading and cuddling.  and there's always the possibility of a fireside picnic.

stay warm and happy friday!

picnic {№11}

here is a rule i live by:  when it's the last day of december and seventy sunny degrees outside, you must have a picnic.

a new years eve picnic turns out to be an incredibly peaceful and sweet way to end the year.

so i paid homage to my parents' swinging nye parties (also in the seventies) by making classic cheese fondue.  it's super easy to pull together for an inpromtu little feast in the backyard.  a little cheese, a little wine, a dash of grated nutmeg is pretty much it.  for dipping:  sourdough bread, chicken sausage and apples. 

are these not the most beautiful olives you have ever seen?

and of course, some bubbles.  my favorite sparkling wines are sofia blanc de blancs in the wee pink can or a spanish cava.  my market was out of sofia so i went with the cava.  pink.  sipped through a straw.

ken joined me in choosing a word for 2012.  i made little cupcake toppers for the occassion.

him:  balance.  me:  abundance.

one of the issues with having a picnic in our backyard is managing our pack of beasts.  luca, the wire fox terrier, uses the table as his lookout on an everyday basis and kept trying to jump up during our meal.

we finally let him up at the end to take care of the tiny bit of leftover cheese in the pot.  (yes, i know this is why they are beasts.  because they are spoiled and get their way.)

simon is a chubby corgi with really short legs, so he can't jump on the table.  he was happy with a tiny bite of sausage.

roxy the cairn terrier pulled a greta garbo and remained aloof and out of camera range.

i wish you all a beautiful, colorful and abundant new year filled with love and beauty and grace and picnics.

if you would like to choose a word for 2012, susannah conway has a wonderful way to explore, click here.  i love hearing others' words, so please share. 

also, my absolute favorite new blogger, meg worden, has written an exquisite bit on nourishment.  please click here to read.  it's brilliant.  truly, i believe it has become my manifesto for a beautiful life.