Nordic Simplicity: Slowing Down Before the Holiday Rush

I never used to be a fan of November. It felt like a month that we could have done without caught somewhere between autumn and Christmas. But November in the Nordics has a hush about it. The bright colours of autumn have faded, the air has a stillness, and the days grow short and soft. There’s a pause that seems to settle over everything, a natural invitation to stop rushing and simply be for a while. Before the lights, laughter and activity of December arrive, this is the time when we can breathe out.

I’ve come to love this in-between month. It’s not as showy as summer, nor as sparkly as Christmas, but that’s what makes it so special. It’s a quiet space where you can gather yourself — a moment to prepare inwardly as much as outwardly. In our modern world, November can easily disappear in a blur of to-do lists and early festive planning. But if we take our cue from the Nordic rhythm of life, we can lean into this slowness instead of pushing it away.

Listening to the Season

The Nordic year follows the natural cycle closely. When the dark season comes, people don’t fight it; they adjust to it. The pace slows, the evenings stretch out, and there’s an unspoken understanding that rest is as necessary as activity. Nature herself is sleeping — why shouldn’t we soften our pace too?

I always feel it in the simpler moments: lighting a candle in the afternoon when the sun sets early, drawing the curtains a little sooner, or taking a few more minutes over that first coffee in the morning. It's not to be mistaken for laziness, but instead respect for the season. The North teaches that each phase of the year has its purpose, and this is the time to refuel and reset.

If we let ourselves follow that rhythm, we arrive at December not frazzled and fed-up, but calm and quietly prepared.

Creating Space for Stillness

One of my favourite November rituals is to clear away the clutter that seems to build up as the year goes on. It’s not a crazy, frantic deep clean, but a gentle sorting: putting summer things away, tidying a drawer, lighting a candle in a newly cleared space. The house feels lighter afterward, more breathable.

This is the month when we can start to make our homes feel like nests — soft blankets on chairs, baskets of firewood by the stove, the warm, scent of something baking in the kitchen. The idea isn’t to decorate for the holidays yet, but to create a calm foundation. When December’s festivities arrive, they’ll have somewhere peaceful to land.

Taking time to be still doesn’t have to mean sitting in silence (though that’s lovely too). It might be going for a walk in the soft November light, hearing the crunch of frost underfoot. It might be knitting a few rows in the evening or reading a chapter of a favourite book before bed.

These small moments of joy remind us that life doesn’t always have to be filled to the brim. In slowing down, we make room for joy to enter naturally.

Winter preparation means packing away garden furniture and delicate plants. It's mindful and takes time.

Mindful Preparation

People in the Nordics are practical; they like to prepare for winter — but they do it steadily, not in a panic. Since I have lived here I have noticed how everyone slowly readies their homes and gardens for the cold months: stacking wood, checking candles, bringing in plants before the frost. It isn't stressful or hurried. There is a quiet satisfaction in being prepared.

That’s something I try to bring into my own life now. Instead of rushing through lists and obligations, I prepare gently — writing a few Christmas cards at a time, making a batch of mince pies (such an English thing!) to freeze, gathering small gifts with thought rather than urgency. It’s amazing how much calmer December feels when you’ve taken time in November to do things little by little.

The point isn’t perfection. The point is peace.

Finding Joy in the Pause

If November teaches anything, it’s that rest isn’t wasted time. In the calm between autumn and the holidays, we can reflect on the year gone by, take stock of what really matters, and nurture gratitude for simple things — a warm cup of tea, the sound of rain, the comfort of home.

The Scandinavians have a beautiful word — lagom — which means “just enough.” Not too much, not too little. November feels like the embodiment of lagom: a time of balance, of doing enough but not overdoing.

So perhaps this month, before the lights and noise of December sweep us along, we can let ourselves live a little more slowly. We can honour the darkness instead of dreading it, rest instead of rushing, and remember that the best celebrations grow from quiet, thoughtful beginnings.

In the end, slowing down before the holiday rush isn’t about missing out — it’s about showing up fully when the time comes. When we give ourselves permission to pause, the season feels richer, the light seems brighter, and we find ourselves ready to welcome the joy ahead with open, peaceful hearts.