The older I get the more I appreciate that we are formed and shaped by our past, whether positively or negatively. We can choose to embrace the good memories and build a better us or be suffocated in the darker times and find no peace in the present because we’re swallowed up in regret, pain or sorrow.

And sometimes our memories are triggered by a scent, a sound or a simple thing that sets off the brain’s chains and results in us being catapulted to a different time and place. I suppose learning to break the chains that link to the bad means we can move on past whatever we’d rather forget, while strengthening the good, the positive and the happy can give us a firm base to build a better world from.

Watching Glastonbury this weekend (on TV, I wasn’t there, festivals were never my thing) there were so many triggers of good times. Rick Astley, whose Northern self-deprecation hides a fantastic voice and a totally addictive song. Elton John’s Crocodile Rock, which to me is a sound of childhood while my son insists he learned it first only because of Bob the Builder.

And Cat Stevens. I didn’t catch his whole set, but I did get to see him singing Morning Has Broken. And it took me way back, to the hall at St Bartholomew’s School, with the hideous 1970’s orange, purple and green-circled full length curtains, the rope set that swung out for PE and the large climbing frame that, again, had to be swung into the floorspace and fastened with what now seem ridiculously small clasps onto the polished wooden floor.

And Miss Reardon, tightly curled dark hair and spectacles half-perched on her nose as she tried to play the music and keep her eye on the children nearest her. She didn’t do the fancy twiddley bits of the Cat Steven’s introduction, but she could have done. Miss Reardon did music and organised the displays throughout the school. She was a strict but fair teacher, to me. I liked her because she would get me and another couple of my year in to draw and paint large figures for the hall displays. On cold, winter days it was easier to paint another Wise Man than to shiver in a doorway in the 70s short skirts that were preferred back then.

Morning Has Broken is a firm favourite with many choosing it as a hymn for weddings or funerals. I’m sure most British schoolchildren up until quite recently would have heard it or sung it. It’s a lovely melody, and of course very lyrical words. The tune is a traditional Scottish tune called Bundessan. It’s also used for a version of St Patrick’s Breastplate and a Christmas carol called Child in the Manger. In 1931 Percy Dearmer, who was an Anglican priest and liturgist and edited several hymn books, wanted a song for the new edition of Songs of Praise, a hymn book popular in churches and schools alike for the wide choice of subjects and use of traditional tunes. He said that there was space for a simple daily song of praise and thanksgiving, and commissioned the lyrics from a well-known writer of the day.

Eleanor Farjeon was a children’s author, the only daughter with three brothers and of a literary family. One brother wrote creepy thrillers, the other wrote revues and theatrical pieces. Her childhood is interesting, with a fair amount of time spent in make believe and books. She was friends with D H Lawrence, Walter De La Mere and Robert Frost, and well-known in the London literary circles. Her poems appeal particularly to children, with Cats being a perennial favourite, I think.

I don’t know what she thought of the comission, nor of the poem she created as a result. I know it is deceptively simple: three verses of eight short lines each, a repetitive rhyme scheme that has fantastic words like ‘elation’ and ‘creation’ and imagery that is Christian but not in an overt way. Jesus, Holy Spirit don’t get a name check in the whole thing and yet the Creator is there in every line.

Morning has broken, like the first morning
Blackbird has spoken, like the first bird
Praise for the singing, praise for the morning
Praise for the springing fresh from the world

Sweet the rain’s new fall, sunlit from heaven
Like the first dewfall, on the first grass
Praise for the sweetness of the wet garden
Sprung in completeness where his feet pass

Mine is the sunlight, mine is the morning
Born of the one light, eden saw play
Praise with elation, praise every morning
God’s recreation of the new day

Eleanor Farjeon, 1931

Creation is sweet, and we should be glad and rejoice in it. Every day we get a clean slate, a fresh dewfall, to walk through and leave our transitory tracks. Nature, with all its beauty and awe, created by God, is ours to praise, to enjoy and to mind.

When Cat Stevens decided to include it on his 1972 album, his producer was aghast because it only lasted 45 seconds in its un-twiddled form. With Rick Wakefield on piano, they added and squirmed, changed key four times, added piano solos and finally stretched it out to just under three minutes. You can see Rick Wakefield explain his part in the process in a video, here. I love that he wasn’t paid at first, and that Cat Stevens (Yusuf Islam, as he then was) paid him when he returned to performing, apologising for the oversight. Whatever. It worked back in the 70s as a lovely piece of music and still does. Watching it be performed at Glastonbury was a proper time tunnel from 2023 to 1973, via every funeral, assembly and sunlit service in between.

How to Hygge the British Way is my gift to the world. I don’t get paid for writing it, I’m not in it for the kudos, financial rewards, to become an influencer, work with brands or otherwise make any money from the blog. That’s why there are no ads, and any products I mention and recommend have either been gifted to me or bought by me with my everyday wages or donations from supporters. Every book I review has been bought and read by me, unless stated otherwise.

I do get a couple of pennies each time someone buys from the Amazon links on my page, as an Amazon Affiliate, but otherwise if you’d like to support me, I like to give something back in return. That’s why I write books. It always feels good if you get a book back in return for some money. You can find a full list of my books at my Author’s Page on Amazon, but especially recommended for this time of year are:

Cosy Happy Hygge: Setting up a rhythm to life and rituals to enjoy it to make for a more balanced life that handles waves and storms better. Lent is a season of rituals and resets. The book has small and easy ways to make your life flow with grace and happiness, which lead to more hygge.

Happier: Probably my most personal book, it’s the story of how I used hygge and the little things in life to help boost my happiness. I still go back and reread to remind myself what I need to do to be a happy human. And it’s always the little things.

How to Hygge Your Summer is my book about making the most of summertime. Hygge is so often seen as a winter pastime, and yet the principles of hygge (good food, good friends, time to be) are just as applicable to days when you can gather in a park or garden as when you gather round the fireplace. This book only scrapes the surface of what you can do, but hopefully sends you off with inspiration to make your own summer hygge.

I’m currently working on two book projects: I have a hankering to rewrite 50 Ways to Hygge the British Way, so it’s not available at the moment, but even dearer to my heart and my next stated aim is to finish and publish my next book, Simple Plus Cosy = Hygge. It will be about homemaking and how the home we create shapes the hygge we have. Hopefully it will be finished by the end of summer/autumn/winter.

If you’d like to support me, but don’t want to buy a book, I have a Paypal.Me account as Hygge Jem. Every little helps, so even a few pence goes towards the books, goods and courses I use and recommend on the site. I’m grateful for every little bit that brings me closer to my dream of full-time writing, and I know I couldn’t still be writing if it weren’t for the support of many readers and friends out there. Thank you all for every little bit of support, emotional, physical and financial, you give me.

If you’ve enjoyed this article, don’t forget to share it or save it so others can enjoy reading, thinking about and living hygge as well.

The photo between post and promotions is by Arno Smit on Unsplash. I wish I had a garden shed like this one! I chose it because I love the colours of the windowframes, the tantalisingly inviting open door and the comgy chair within. Perfect spot for a cup of tea and a good book. And the header today is by Martin Zeman on Unsplash. The dew drop on the point of falling acts as an upside down mirror to the meadow behind, pulling in the eye and reminding one that the dew is but a temporary state, so enjoy it while one can.