Hygge isn't the only non-English word to embrace for living your best Wisconsin life

A few years back, the Danish concept of hygge swept across the world.

You probably know the idea: It's about slowing down and enjoying the quiet, cozy things in life. Think about taking a stroll to enjoy the fall colors or sipping a cup of hot chocolate on a frosty night.

Like almost everyone else, I found the idea appealing. But I also started noting other non-English words to help make the most of my time on the planet, particularly in this little corner of the planet we call Wisconsin.

And even though everyone in Wisconsin can benefit from some hygge in their lives, I wanted something more. Something more active, perhaps, that fits into the culture of friluftsliv — Norwegian, "open air living" — that so many people in the Badger state embrace.

Here are five non-English words that I've found over the past several years that I use to help me live my best Wisconsin life:

Sisu, a dose of Finnish courage

In June of 2015 I got a call from 75-year-old retired railroad worker Karl Pachmayer who had been at the Wausau West High School graduation ceremony that year and watched a graduate named Jason Lor walk across the stage to get his diploma.

Lor was born with cerebral palsy, and most of the time he used a wheelchair. But for this event, he wanted to walk. As he struggled to walk awkwardly, tentatively, across the stage, the crowd began to cheer, and it built with each step Lor took.

Pachmayer had moved to Wausau from Michigan's Upper Peninsula, where he had lived and worked with a lot of people of Finnish descent.

"The Finns have this thing they call 'sisu,' " Pachmayer said. "It means intestinal fortitude. And that's just what that kid had."

Sisu doesn't have a direct English translation. Pachmayer's "intestinal fortitude" is on the money, but I've also seen translations that go deeper. In 2018, the BBC defined it as "strength, perseverance in a task that for some may seem crazy to undertake," which seems very Wisconsin indeed.

However it's defined, I've found that thinking about sisu does wonders in helping you make the most of living in Wisconsin, especially when you're intent on making the most of every day, no matter what the weather or circumstances throw at you.

Wenji-bimaadiziyan, Ojibwe for 'from where we get life'

A couple years before the death of my father-in-law, Andrew Kolesar, he told me that he wanted to be buried with Catholic rites. He was about 90 at the time, so he often talked about his wishes upon death, but this surprised me. He wasn't a particularly religious person, and he hadn't been to a Catholic service in years. He told me that it just seemed right, because Catholicism was such a deep part of his upbringing, even if he didn't really believe in it.

I asked him what he believed in. "Nature," he said. "I believe in nature's way." We didn't really go deeper into the conversation, and I never asked him exactly what he meant.

Not long after that discussion, I was speaking to Dylan Bizhikiins Jennings, who at the time was a member of the tribal council of the Bad River Band of the Lake Superior Chippewa and the public information director for the Great Lakes Indian Fish & Wildlife Commission.

Jennings spoke about the concept of wenji-bimaadiziyan, a mindset that defines the natural world as "from where we get life." That means we take care of the environment and nurture it, even as we live in it and use it for our survival. Done right, nature does the same for us. I think that's what Andy meant, that nature isn't something apart from human existence, but that we are part of a greater whole.

Jennings since has been appointed to the Wisconsin Natural Resources Board.

Uitwaaien, the Dutch concept of letting your stress blow away

I'm a bicyclist. All too often, that means I am called to do battle with the wind. At least that's the way I used to look at it, until I learned about uitwaaien. It's a Dutch word that literally means "out blowing."

But the true meaning of the word is more conceptual, and if you look at it in a cosmic sense, is related to wenji-bimaadiziyan. The Netherlands, especially on the coast, is a windy place (windmills, right?), and they have embraced it with both arms. If you practice uitwaaien you go out on a blustery day and you revel in the feeling. And you let all your worries and cares blow away.

In some ways it is similar to shinrin-yoku, a Japanese word that means "forest bathing."

In all these concepts, getting outside, soaking in nature and taking the time to appreciate it provides physical, emotional and spiritual sustenance.

Wabi sabi, a Japanese notion of finding beauty in imperfection

I first learned about the concept of wabi sabi as it relates to fine pottery. When a piece of pottery cracks, Japanese artists repair the area with a lacquer or other substance that hardens to make the piece whole. Gold dust is often added to this repair substance, and in the end, the broken piece becomes more beautiful in its imperfection.

Wabi sabi gives me more courage (maybe even sisu) to try things, to repair things, to make things. This notion came from spending a lot of time with my grandparents who were farmers and Depression-era survival do-it-yourselfers. The problem is I'm not very good at a lot of stuff, and I want it to be perfect.

But nothing is perfect. Wabi sabi gives me permission to do it anyway, and appreciate the imperfection that comes from striving and creating.

Jakos to bedzie, the Polish belief that things will work out in the end

I grew up steeped in the philosophy of "plan for the worst, hope for the best." I'm not sure when or where I learned jakos to bedzie, a Polish phrase that translates roughly to "things will work out in the end," according to a BBC article. But I've come to believe it's a healthier outlook. Planning for the worst requires thinking about the worst, and that's a formula for a "forget it, I'm gonna watch TV" mindset.

The Poles, on the other hand, use their phrase to encourage risk taking. Give it a try, jakos to bedzie urges. You'll figure it out no matter what. I still haven't fully embraced this notion, because letting go of fear is hard. But when I have, say, when I decided to go backpacking after years of not camping, the results have been worth it.

Contact Keith Uhlig at 715-845-0651 or kuhlig@gannett.com. Follow him at @UhligK on X, formerly Twitter, and Instagram or on Facebook.