Getting Cozy to Relieve Stress and Anxiety
One of my mom's famous winter tablescapes, 2019.
Getting Cozy to Relieve Stress and Anxiety
All I want is to be cozy.
Being out in the frigid, loud holiday bustle feels overwhelming and being home feels like sanctuary. My body’s asking for sleep and snuggles and warmth.
The best thing I’ve done the last two weeks is read a 960-page mystery novel under my big blanket next to the Christmas tree. It was immensely comforting.
I’ve been coping with health challenges and recovering from too much travel. I’m anxious, depleted, and unwell. When that happens, my body tends to take the reins. It slows me WAY down. And when I try to push through, my body is FIRM with me. It gives me all kinds of symptoms until I listen. It wants me to take it easy right now. Really easy.
Doing less is the hardest thing in the world. I enjoy it in small batches, but letting go of productivity for longer periods sends me into full-on panic. Especially this time of year—when others are out shopping, celebrating, and being festive—opting out feels awful. Like I’m missing out, can’t cut it, and don’t belong.
It’s also hard because it means disappointing other people. Saying no to invitations and preserving my energy at work is often frustrating or unwelcome to others. I have such a hard time making choices that I want to make, rather than making choices I know others want me to make.
But my body knows what’s up. It’s much more aligned with the changing season than this backwards society. (Why do we ratchet UP the activity level as winter is starting?!) Even if my brain hates it, my body knows winter is for slowing down and getting still.
Very often I try to cope with anxiety by changing my thoughts. “It’s okay to stay home and rest,” I say. “I’m safe and everything is going to be alright,” I reassure myself. And it’s not that reframing negative thoughts isn't helpful, but reassuring thoughts can only get me so far.
When I’m feeling activated or unwell, my body needs more reassurance than my brain. Mantras and positive thinking don’t make me feel safe. Comforting my body does.
That's where coziness comes in. Coziness can help alleviate stress and anxiety.
While researching the book I’m writing about stress, I learned that the body’s massive vagus nerve monitors all our major organs and sends information about those organs to the brain. The brain then uses that information to respond, invoking a feeling. It also works in reverse—we experience an emotion and the vagus nerve tells the physical body how to respond. But it’s that body-to-brain messaging that I’m most interested in.
An agitated body can tell the brain to feel scared and hide from the outside world. A study that artificially (and non-invasively) increased the heartbeats of mice showed that inducing a fast heartbeat can lead to anxiety. The little mice, with their pitter-patter hearts, acted more cautiously and nervously when there was a hint of danger. They were less likely to take a risk in order to gain a reward, and they stuck close to the wall instead of going out into the open.
Just as an agitated body can signal anxiety and contraction, a calm body can signal connection, love, and expansiveness.
You’re likely to be familiar with this dynamic. Perhaps you’ve taken a medication that made your heart race, and it made you feel nervous. Or you consciously slowed and deepened your breath and noticed feeling calmer. Altering your physical state has a powerful impact on the way you feel.
Coziness feels good. When we’re cozy, we feel warm, connected, still, relaxed, regulated, grounded, soft, slow, quiet, content, and safe. Our cozy bodies are in the ventral vagal state—which means our nervous systems are settled, and our bodies have more capacity to heal, digest, and cope.
And the best part is: we can manufacture coziness.
We can create cozy physical sensations and environments for our bodies, and then let our bodies tell our brains to relax. We start by soothing the body. Then we can notice how it softens our thoughts and mood. For me, the change is powerful.
A big part of creating coziness is reducing stimulation. Even if you aren’t feeling truly anxious or unwell, you are still likely to experience overstimulation this time of year. The blaring Christmas carols, crazy traffic, exposure to loud revelers, and onslaught of marketing is enough to make everyone want to hide under the covers. We all need a little peace and quiet to counteract the stimuli.
Here are some ways to create coziness and feel calmer:
Make your body comfortable.
Sit in supportive positions, get up to stretch, tend to aches and pain.
Stay warm.
Use heating pads, fluffy blankets, socks, hats, and mittens to conserve your body's energy.
Put on comfy clothes.
Wear things that feel soft and loose and pleasing to your skin; ditch the rest.
Reduce stimulation.
Dim the lights, lower the volume, take breaks, stay home.
Create a calm environment.
Light a candle, diffuse a scent, play soft music.
Add beauty.
Buy flowers, build an altar, tidy up the mess.
Do things that feel good.
What do you love but don’t indulge in? Read, bathe, bake.
Hold onto something.
Snuggle a pet or pillow, palm a smooth rock, squeeze a stress ball.
Soothe your skin.
Apply moisture, texture, and scents that calm.
Imbibe comforting things.
Homemade soup, herbal teas, your favorite childhood cereal.
Engage in gentle motion.
Caress, hug, cradle, rock, sway, stretch, stroll.
Snuggle someone.
Nuzzle up to a cozy being and mirror the rise and fall of their breath.
If you’re like me, a second layer of anxiety may emerge when you get cozy. That second layer is the little voice that says, “This is selfish/indulgent/a waste of time” or “I haven’t earned/don’t deserve this.” That voice is trying to keep you safe in a society that doesn’t value rest. But part of the revolution is to acknowledge that it’s uncomfortable and then keep resting. We must practice coziness, but more importantly, we must practice letting ourselves be cozy.
So if you’re running around making yourself sick trying to be productive or social right now—and it’s just not serving you—I invite you to get cozy with me.
Your turn:
Imagine one hour of your ideal, blissful coziness. Where are you exactly? What are you wearing? What are you surrounded by? What’s the lighting like? Is it quiet or is music playing? Do you have anything or anyone with you? Are you doing something?
What helps calm you down after an overstimulating social event or encounter?
What negative thoughts come up for you when you prioritize coziness and rest? Can you reframe your coziness as an act of healing for yourself, those around you, and the world at large?