It’s 3:45pm, and my eyes are already struggling to adjust. The weather app tells me that sunset is an hour and a half away, but I’m not convinced. My classmates and I had a fika at this time only a few weeks ago, but we were basking in the warm rays of sun. Now, I’m huddled in the corner of a cafe, holding my chai latte close, and reminding myself that it’s not bed time yet.

When I was applying to Uppsala University, there were so many things I was excited for – the vast landscapes, a chance to see the northern lights, endless sauna sessions, and of course, ABBA music everywhere! But one thought made its home in the back of my mind: how would I, an Australian who comes to life in the sunshine, survive the winters here?

I won’t lie, I’m still nervous about what’s to come over the next few months. It will get colder. And it will get darker. But there are a few important steps to make sure I’m taking the path of least resistance!

Learning to Cope

My first step was to learn how to cope with the cold, dark days. Before I’d even made it to Sweden, I spent hours trawling through the internet for tips and recommendations to make it through! One bit of advice in particular that I can give is this: if you already know someone who lives up north (e.g. Canada, Scandinavia, Scotland), ask them how they get through winter!

There are of course some practical items that can give you some assistance through the darkest days. SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder) lamps are extremely popular in Scandinavia, as they simulate natural sunlight, and boost your mood and energy levels. They hold up signposts for your body’s internal clock, saying “It’s daytime now!”, when the sun isn’t there to do it. On the same note, I have a sunrise alarm clock, which additionally simulates sunrise and sunset on either side of your day. I find that it helps my transitions in and out of day time to be a lot more peaceful! And any Swede you meet will swear by Vitamin D tablets from your local pharmacy store.

However, there’s plenty of other ways to make it feel more like home in wintertime as well! Filling your room with fairy lights, lamps and candles can help make it feel more cosy and homey. But I would also recommend making the effort to find your favourite cafes to fika and study in, as it’s so important to spend time in social environments and around other people! The warm drink in your hand is just a bonus!

Learning to Rethink

Once I had the basics down, I realised that framing it in my mind as how to “survive” winter was actually pretty counterproductive! If you approach a task or experience, strong in the belief that you have to “overcome”, “survive” or “beat” it, you’re already starting on the back foot. Instead, I’ve been trying to think of winter here in Uppsala as something to experience, rather than endure.

So, in the past couple of months, I’ve been stopping myself mid-thought whenever a negative comment about the weather or (lack of) sun has popped into my mind. I’ve filled my Notion pages and Pinterest boards with cozy images of Christmas markets, northern lights and red snow-capped cottages. Some might call it delusional, but I would simply say I’m learning to appreciate Sweden for all it offers (okay, maybe both are true…).

This approach has made such a difference for me. Instead of comparing where I am to where I’ve come from – and let’s be honest, judging Sweden by the quality of their beaches and amount of sunlight isn’t exactly a fair fight – I’m reminding myself how fortunate I am to be able to study and live somewhere completely new and different to everywhere I’ve been before! On walks and bike rides through Uppsala, I admire how the seasons are changing before my eyes, how red the leaves are, and how the bright-coloured buildings look even more vibrant against the clouds. As I sit in one of the nations’ cozy cellar pubs, I look around at the pink noses of my friends, and am grateful to have people to cuddle up in the warmth and drink glögg with (warm, spiced wine).

Learning to Live

All of these moments – the autumn leaves, twinkling fairy lights and memories I’ve captured – have changed how I see this place, and more importantly, how I feel about moving here. But, the biggest thing I’ve learnt since coming to Sweden is that there’s one more step to take, past learning to appreciate the magic of winter here. I’ve started learning to live, in a slower, softer and more purposeful way.

As someone who in the past prided themselves in having an over-flowing calendar of tasks, appointments and plans, I’ve come to realise that that is completely unsustainable here. Life in Uppsala feels built for stillness. Locals embrace the comfort in their rituals: long fikas with friends, daily walks along the river, and cozy evenings at home once the daylight retreats. I’m learning to let myself rest without guilt, feel the fulfillment of a “quiet day” and an empty calendar, and let the natural light cycles dictate my routines a bit more.

Just as the landscapes around us change, I’m learning about my own rhythms, and how they intertwine with the climate outside. Cold, dark winter days give me time to explore my creative side – to read, write, draw, and play my guitar. My walks outside may be shorter, but I appreciate the crunch of leaves under my feet, and the sharp feeling of cold air in my lungs. I don’t see as many people, but the long evenings over a home-cooked meal bonding with a friend feel even more meaningful to me.

Learning to live in Sweden is not about shutting out the negative thoughts and feelings, or seeking out constant adventure. It’s about embracing all parts of life here in their entirety. I’m redefining what comfort means to me, and discovering it through new rhythms, surroundings and connections.

Most importantly, getting settled into life here is about seeing yourself as a part of the landscape, rather than just a temporary visitor in it. Australia still feels like home to me, but Uppsala is starting to feel like home too. Winter may be coming, but I can’t wait for it. It’s dark outside now, but I’m not dreading it. I’m ready to wrap my work day up. I can’t wait to go home, light some candles, and share my day with my partner over a slow dinner. Because this, too, feels like living.