Early September Ask a Resilient Activist Column

A Vision of Slow Living

The stone hearth crackles in the quiet forest cottage. Meanwhile, golden rays of twilight filter between the trees. Additionally, spices and herbs scent the air as a woman hums by her bubbling cauldron.

This woman’s family is the moon, the moss, and a murder of crows. Furthermore, she is attuned to every critter, the rise of sprouts, and the descent of each raindrop. She conjures nutritious stews and blends healing teas. As a conservator of comfort, she sweeps away negativity, cleanses her space with intention, and turns ordinary moments into rituals. Anyone is welcome in her home, where laughter and shared meals fill festive evenings.

Who is this woman?

She is my ancestress—the Hearth Witch, the Baba Yaga, the Strega Nona, and the Cailleach of folklore. This is exactly who I want to be.

As I tumble through my fast-paced, technology-centered activist life, my soul longs for a slower, nurturing existence like the Hearth Witch. Nevertheless, I strive to bring more comfort and intention into my days.

Discovering Hygge: Danish Roots of Cozy, Intentional Living

These desires have roots in my Danish ancestry. Recently, the concept of hygge (pronounced “hooga”) exploded into a trend—think cozy Cottagecore, wool sweaters, and candles.

However, hygge is a Danish way of life that goes back to the Middle Ages.

Often difficult to explain, hygge encapsulates the intentional practice of slowing down, stepping away from the hustle and bustle, and enjoying life’s simple, quiet pleasures with loved ones.

While Americanized brains may find it difficult to pinpoint the purpose of hygge (we can’t put a dollar sign on it, so what’s the point?), it is an important tool for survival in Denmark. 

Winters are cold, dark, and brutal. Physical and mental health are at risk when snow and ice blanket Scandinavia. Therefore, the Danes come together in joyful community, feed one another, and rest through the darkness. This is how they maintain well-being and enter spring rejuvenated.

My great-great-grandparents came from Denmark to Missouri more than 150 years ago, bringing Danish customs with them. Over generations, those practices trickled down, but modern American life diluted them. In 2025, I work two jobs and volunteer as an activist. Also, I spend most of my free time indoors, in front of screens, struggling to rest while crises worsen. As a result, I feel detached from my Danish hygge heritage. Achieving the Hearth Witch lifestyle I crave seems unlikely.

The Challenge of Modern Life: Balancing Activism and Self-Care

Is it possible to live that life and be an activist at the same time?

It’s not only possible, but also integral. Perhaps the greatest way to succeed as an activist is to take a deep breath, close your eyes, and dive headfirst into the world of hygge.

In her book Being with Dying, Joan Halifax describes self-nurturing as one of the most important pieces of surviving as a caretaker:

“Keeping your personal life together is not an optional indulgence but an absolute necessity when it comes to being of use to others in the world.” – Joan Halifax

Joan goes on to stress the importance of making a peaceful haven of one’s home, especially if you are a caretaker:

“You need your home to be a refuge, a place in which to rest and restore yourself, a sanctuary in which you can be nourished and safe.”

Why Self-Care Is Non-Negotiable for Caretakers and Activists

How can we care for the planet and our communities if we do not intentionally care for ourselves? That means eating nourishing meals, cleaning our homes, and tending to our bodies and souls. The mystical woman in her forest cottage lives in harmony with her surroundings. She slowly cooks meals and brews medicinal teas. She is healthier for it.

The Danes survive the mental strain of winter’s gloomy chill by mindfully focusing their attention on life’s simple pleasures, existing in the present moment, and laughing in joyous appreciation.

Joan Halifax also stresses the importance of sharing the work of a caretaker with others, surmising that it’s not possible to “sanely do the work” of caregiving without community. The central thread of hygge is togetherness. Survival during the darkest periods is best achieved with fellowship, not isolation. 

Today in America, we find ourselves in a dark time. Thorny tendrils of hate and fear threaten to entangle us daily, as people in positions of power continually make decisions that harm, shock, and enrage. Meanwhile, for the activist, we feel the obligation to spend every moment doing something: speaking up, fighting the oppressors, and saving our environments and communities from further harm. Consequently, anxieties can easily take hold of our being, instilling fear and isolation into our hearts.

The Power of Community in Dark Times

This is where it is vitally important to remember that we are not alone, and we are not meant to do this work alone. Just as Denmark’s coldest months are endured in unity and togetherness, this tumultuous slice of American history must be survived in community.

Share the load of saving the planet with others, and come together for a jubilant feast along the way. In fact, it’s time to stop overlooking the value of time spent with loved ones without any agenda or to-do list—eating and drinking in merriment, laughing, and existing in the present moment. This is how we survive.

Let’s start now.

Practical Steps to Cultivate Comfort, Mindfulness, and Connection

Deep in my bones, I feel the call toward my ancestral roots of hygge. Furthermore, I sense my body’s desire to slow down and take mindful care of myself and my home. I also notice my soul’s craving for community and togetherness.

• Today, I will brew a cup of mugwort tea and take note of its taste and temperature. 
• I will thank the plant from which the leaves were harvested, and express gratitude for the plant’s medicinal gifts. 
• I will prepare a nutritious carrot soup for myself and a friend, and we will enjoy the meal together with merry simplicity. 
• We will clean our bowls with tenderness and rest after our space is clean and refreshed. 

Channeling the warmth of hygge and the mystique of the Hearth Witch, I feel restored. I acknowledge that these moments will help me be a better caretaker of my planet.

If You’re Lucky Enough to Hear the Call, Listen

As we chug through the seemingly endless days of activism and feel ourselves sliding dangerously close to burnout, I implore you to notice and allow your body to respond to the pull towards mindful simplicity.

I feel it in my bones, the call toward my ancestral roots of hygge. I sense my body’s desire to slow down and take mindful care of myself and my home. I notice my soul’s craving for community and togetherness. I encourage you to explore these noticings in your own body, mind, and soul. Allow yourself to slow down, care for yourself, and be cared for by your community as you do the work of caring for this planet. 

This is not an optional indulgence. It is the key to enduring the darkness.

Sources:

Hearth Witch: https://sincitywitch.com/ 

Baba Yaga: https://kris-spisak.com/becoming-baba-yaga/ 

Cailleach: https://historycooperative.org/cailleach/ 

Strega Nona: https://www.tomie.com/strega-nona-books-1 

Hygge: https://denmark.dk/people-and-culture/hygge

Joan Halifax: https://www.joanhalifax.org/ Being with Dying: Cultivating Compassion and Fearlessness in the Presence of Death.” Joan Halifax, 2008, Shambhala Publications, Inc.