It’s taken me a while to get back to the present.

My life has been somewhat disjointed: I’m supporting so many other people that time for me, time to purely hygge at home, seems to be the most precious commodity available. It’s Lent, and I haven’t even written a post for February. I can’t go back: I can’t ask for the first two months of the year back.

Time to just March On.

Loss has a wonderful way of making you focus on the really important things. This Lent has been a living lesson in editing out the excess. I’m shopping (virtually or actually) less. I’ve cut out black bags full of clothes from my wardrobe and still find myself looking at the stacks and thinking I could and should cut out some more.

Mt seasonal decorating, too, has been thinned to the minimum. I change a door wreath, I alter the display on a shelf unit. The mantelpiece may change. But generally the house is as it is, set up for comfort and for convenience and it stays that way.

I mark the seasons by walking out into them. We’re still experiencing cold mornings here in mid-March, but by midday (as it is here) the sun is shining in on my office and I am sweltering in my roll-neck jumper. I should dress in layers. I really should. On my walk to and from the car I pass blossom beginning to push its way out, and trees that are grabbing a little green before they release the leaves. There are daffodils, nodding slowly in the gentle breeze and with increasing agreement in the wind.

And life pushes on in all its glorious fullness and disarray. My planner is filled with dates for holidays, theatre, visits, events. I’m living well, but not living fully. I feel like I’m half a parsec behind the world. It’s all there, and I appreciate it, but I’m not in it. I am not draining the cup fully, sucking the marrow from life, enjoying the things I know I do enjoy. I’m just…. ever so slightly…. not with it.

I miss my Mum. I miss picking up the phone and telling her about my day. I miss letting her know when I’ll visit, and what we’re doing this week. I miss her asking her stupid, soft, silly worried questions … have I got a good coat, do I need to borrow a scarf, is there any thing I need for next week…. I miss the concern she always had for the children and grandchildren, who she had heard from and who she hadn’t. Too many missing weeks of visits. I only have a bare two months’ regret of missed times since she died. I can’t imagine having a year’s worth, or more than a year’s worth.

March On. When a worry or a regret gets too close to the bone. March on. Set your face forward, don’t look back. No regrets, no guilt. The past is past.

And March marches on. Lent time leans in and asks me to slow down, to look, to (finally) savour the year. It will be Easter soon. I lost time in January: I didn’t write that series on the stuff of hygge. I’m contemplating not writing again. The heart is not in it. Or rather, my heart is pulling me elsewhere. Perhaps hygge has served its purpose for me. Perhaps it worked when I needed it to restore my soul and give me my heart back.

Perhaps this is a time to march on properly…….

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. 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.

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 but Enjoying a Self-Care Christmas may be a faster and more seasonally appropriate read.

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 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 one I took in the snow last January… one of only a few. It’s tomato soup, cheese on toast and a background of all the books, magazines and detritus I keep near to hand, including my downstairs comfort basket. This is what my hibernation nook looks like for most of the winter.