In a new book, The Book of Hygge (Ebury), Danish writer Louisa Thomsen Brits explores the concept of hygge, the Scandinavian philosophy of simplicity and good living. We asked her a few questions about this intriguing idea.

Why did you write this book?

In response to the privilege of being asked, at a time when hygge could easily be packaged as the next Scandinavian lifestyle fad. It has more history and longevity than that. Hygge is the language of belonging and comfort common to us all. It ignites relatedness with each other and everything else. It seems to be an appropriate time to revive that vocabulary.

The practice helps me find balance between engagement with the world and retreat from it and has kept me afloat through some tricky times – divorce, cancer, single parenthood and the days when I was certifiably bonkers after each of my children. It’s worth sharing.

We in the UK have never heard of hygge. That is strange because it seems like such a good concept. Why are we only hearing about it now?

Perhaps hygge has arrived on the back of recent interest in slow living and mindfulness. Elements of both exist in hygge but it’s a quality of mindfulness more akin to noticing, presence and uncomplicated pleasure than deep contemplation.

I think we’re tiring of the relentless individual pursuit of happiness and see something appealing and durable in hygge closer to a collective contentment and ease. Maybe we’re ready to take ourselves a little less seriously. Hygge moves to the rhythm of enjoyment, everyday life and the seasons. For those of us who have fallen out of rhythm with life, it’s an inexpensive, accessible solution.

How do you pronounce hygge?

Press your lips close together and try to smile as you make a “huuuew” sound with a blowing emphasis on the “h”. Then end with “gah” as you expel your breath and open your mouth a bit wider.

Is it a bit like idling?

Yup. Hygge is actively experienced but burdened by too much vigorous activity. It’s often found in idle pleasure – poking a fire, a slow bike ride, drinking coffee with a friend, lying on a rug in the park, going to bed early with a good book, lying spoons, staring at the sea.

Both idling and hygge are an art of living in the moment. Both are a kind of liberty that induces a sense of calm and contentment, a restorative pause in the middle of a fully engaged life.

How many hours a day should we hygger?

It’s not about the number of hours that we hygger but the quality of our engagement.

What is the first step for someone who wants to bring hygge into their life?

Delineate a moment, give it boundaries, set it apart from everything around it. Then open a magazine or a cold beer, start a conversation or stare into space. Light a candle and relax.

THIS IS AN EXTRACT FROM A LONGER PIECE WHICH APPEARS IN THE AUGUST/OCTOBER/NOVEMBER ISSUE OF THE IDLER.