My Wednesday evenings are fast becoming one of my favourite times of the week. As I wrote in Holy Hygge Hospitality, I volunteered to lead a set of small group activities in my Church, all with a creative/introverted focus. Groups people could come to and do something at, or do nothing at all if they wanted to.

There’s a book club free of pressure, a Christmas choir that meet to sing soft songs like Country Roads or Edelweiss, and there’s supposed to be a deeper dive bookclub that hasn’t taken off and I’m currently looking at rejigging, possibly into a quiz evening instead. Leave it with me.

But the first Wednesday is an art group, Worship Through Art. We’ve only had two sessions so far in May and June and I have to be honest, I did not know what to expect.

The brief is quite wide, really. Creation in any physical aspect: paint, pens, pencils, pastels, clay, fimo, I am quite prepared to do any craft and tie it in to worship. The first session there were three of us, last night we had six. All via word of mouth, and all prepared to paint in silence because that’s what naturally happens when people gather together and focus.

That makes the night sound a lot more serious than it actually ends up being. Laughter is a great gift of God, so we like to hear that as well. The sessions follow a pretty basic pattern:

• We meet up, between 7.45 and 8, make a cup of tea or (last night) share a bottle of something nice. It was one of the lady’s birthdays last night, so she shared her birthday Bucks Fizz with us all, but I also intend having teas, chai, Earl Grey and flavoured coffess there, especially during the winter.
• We had cake last night as well (birthday) but there’s always fancy biscuits or fun nibbles. Food: a big part of hospitality and hygge.
• Once we’ve had a chat, enjoyed talking through life a little bit, we settle into our seats. A brief prayer of thanksgiving for the opportunity to be there, to share and to create and then it’s onto the meat of the making.
• There’s a practice in traditional monasticism called Lectio Divina, where the participants take one piece of scripture or writing and concentrate on it through four steps: reading. meditation, praying and contemplation. In the art group, we aim to follow these steps but to respond through creation rather than prayer. I introduce the evening activity first, so that the group knows what we’re doing, and then we read the passage for the first time.
• The first 40 minutes we work in silence, listening to a soundtrack of quiet Christian music. At regular intervals I re-read the passage, and we all try to hear the word of God through it. Are there words that touch our heart? Does an image arise in our imagination? Can we hear a whisper of a line or smell a memory? We work, we respond and we are completely present in the moment. Last night we were slow to settle (birthday excitement) but at a certain point in the evening the silence rose up and we were there, concentrating, responding and (forgive me what might seem like hyperbole) the Creative Spirit felt very much among us.
• There’s a moment when the need for silence passes, and I’m happy to break it with louder music and permission to speak. This is the social element of the evening, teh part when I hope the regularity of attendance will pay dividends as the group discuss family issues, personal concerns and minister to each other in friendship and (eventually) love.

It’s a simple pattern. Because I’m running it through Church there is necessarily a Christian element running through it, but it strikes me there is nothing to say that a secular group couldn’t do exactly the same, responding to poetry or passages from writing. I think it’s not the concept but the commitment that makes a change. The group needs to commit to each other, to regularly meeting up and to sharing life with integrity, knowing it won’t go any further.

Last night we used Jeremiah 6:16 as our starting point:

This is what the Lord says:

“Stand at the crossroads and look;
    ask for the ancient paths,
ask where the good way is, and walk in it,
    and you will find rest for your souls.

We focused on the idea of signs and symbols at the crossroads, asking ourselves what symbols or signs we needed to move forward. Was it peace, wisdom, grace, rest, inspiration, self-control or something else? We each chose a visual representation of what we identified and painted it. The results were beautiful. I do have to single out the lady who told me she couldn’t draw and went on to produce two most enthralling pictures of feathers. Seriously, I told her the process mattered more than the product and that no skill was necessary it was the act of identification and creating that we were there for, but I think she went home rather pleased with the product in the end.

Me? I painted a scallop shell. The metaphor of life as a pilgrimage and me as an ordinary pilgrim walking my way to special places and times has been with me for a long time now. I like finding my own pilgrim places on the Earth, physically or metaphorically. I hold a few in my heart. Some, like Mont St Michel, are obvious and others, like the bridge at Chester, are personal sites that mean something only to me. I’m still seeking a pilgrimage to do in real life, properly, but until then I’ll live as a pilgrim in spirit alone.

I know I’m there to coordinate the sessions, to move us on as appropriate, to provide music, food and drink, but last night was a glimpse into what will be as a result of the evenings. We shared life in all its glory, enjoyed time out of time when we were gloriously in the moment. The group listened to my plans, thought, responded and I now have at least a year’s worth of creative inspirations to plan. They enjoyed it so much, they’re keen to meet in August and December, which I had earmarked as potential rest months. No matter. As long as I’m not away, there’s no reason not to. Ultimately I could see my role being to open the room and set up while someone else leads that month. Cracking. That’s part of my role, creating new leaders.

If you, too, are a spiritual creative who never gives themselves permission to make: try forming a group. It gives you permission to set time aside and think “I will make now”. It gives you a purpose for creation, and it provides a reason to slow down, to absorb, ro respond and to contemplate life. Add to that the possibilities of friendships that go beyond the superficial, and you have a powerful tool in the modern arsenal against fragmented societies and individualised lives. Get out there, do the craft.

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.

Is it too early to think ahead? My Christmas books are always available: Have Yourself a Happy Hygge Christmas is a good place to start, on how to make the season cosier, happier. Celebrating a Contagious Christmas was written during covid year, but has useful advice on celebrating when times are hard anyway and Enjoying a Self-Care Christmas is a short e-book on keeping Christmas simpler, easier and better for you, your waistline and your budget. It even includes 25+ suggestions for self-care activities over Christmas, as simple as sipping tea, keeping a list journal or lighting a candle. Bigger is not always better for Christmas.

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 2024 or 2025.

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 Laurentiu Iordache on Unsplash. Summer brings poppies, and glorious sun that eventually has to set.