5 very Finnish ways to battle the winter blues

Every year, just as you’re getting used to daylight again, Finland decides you’ve had enough of it. The sun vanishes, the wind gets personal, and your phone starts recommending vitamin D like it’s flirting with you. While the rest of the world copes by panic-booking flights to Spain, Finns simply switch into survival mode, with a stoic shrug and an electric blanket.

These aren’t miracle cures; they’re small, stubborn rituals that make dark months feel almost… intentional. If you want to borrow a few, start by browsing Kotona for ideas. It’s a neat window into Finnish living, from calming interiors to rituals that keep people sane through 200 days of grey. Here are five very Finnish techniques to fight the winter blues without ever pretending to enjoy February.

1) Make darkness your personality

You can’t beat the dark, so you might as well accessorise with it. Finns master the art of “gloomy but chic”: black clothing, black coffee, black humour. Bonus points if your mood lighting could double as a Scandi noir crime scene. Adjust lamps, embrace warm bulbs, and let textiles do the talking. The goal isn’t brightness... it’s calm. When your living room feels like a serene snow cave instead of a bunker, you’re winning. For inspiration on turning small tweaks into big comfort, wander through Kotona.

2) Keep your sauna sacred

Nothing fights seasonal despair quite like voluntarily roasting yourself at 80–90°C. The sauna isn’t a luxury in Finland — it’s therapy, religion, and skincare in one spruce-scented box. Step inside, close the door, and feel every stress molecule evaporate. The post-sauna glow isn’t just sweat,  it’s proof you’ve briefly transcended humanity. Keep it simple: water, towel, silence. Add a friend if you must, but keep the small talk to “too hot?” and “löyly?”. Pair this with step three for the full enlightenment package.

3) Try ice bathing (and brag endlessly about it)

It looks unhinged until you’ve done it. Then you’ll join the cult. A brief plunge into near-freezing water sends endorphins rocketing, boosts circulation, and gives you a legally acceptable way to yelp in public. Start slow: short dips, warm layers, hot drink, and never go alone on sketchy ice. Before long, you’ll be the person who casually says, “Oh, I’ve been swimming, yes, outside.” It’s the perfect mix of suffering and superiority that makes winter survivable, plus a weekly reminder that you are, in fact, alive.

4) Redefine “going out”

When the forecast says “feels like minus twenty,” Finns don’t stay in, they layer up. The concept of “outdoors” here includes forests, frozen lakes, and, occasionally, just walking to the bin in full Arctic gear. There’s quiet magic to it: your breath forming tiny clouds, snow muffling every sound, and that moment when your eyelashes attempt to freeze to your scarf. Ten minutes counts. A short walk at lunch counts. Watching the sky turn from steel to pewter also counts. Small doses of fresh air help regulate mood, and in Finland, small doses are the whole point.

5) Lean into cosy chaos

Winter isn’t something to conquer; it’s something to hibernate through gracefully. That means candles, soup, wool socks, and accepting that you’ll spend entire weekends under a blanket arguing about which streaming service has the least chaotic subtitles. “Hygge” might be Danish, but Finns perfected the art of home comfort decades ago. Again, Kotona gets it, home isn’t just a place to survive winter. It’s a state of mind. Build small rituals: Friday soup night, Sunday bake, a midweek phone-off hour. None of these will change the sunrise time, but together they’ll change how it feels.

And yes... the happiness thing

People love to ask how a country with so little daylight keeps topping the charts. The short answer: realistic expectations, sturdy systems, and cosy habits repeated forever. If you need the receipts, read Finland the happiest country in the world. You don’t have to chase non-stop joy; you just maintain steady contentment, a good lamp here, a hot sauna there, and coffee strong enough to melt a spoon.

In the end, Finnish winter resilience isn’t about pretending the darkness is delightful. It’s about noticing tiny sparks of light, a sauna glow, crisp air, a comforting room that smells faintly of coffee and cardamom. Borrow a few of these habits and you’ll find that the blues don’t vanish, but they do get quieter. Which, in Finland, is the whole point.