#gluggaveður

[proteidaes]

Snow! ❄️❄️❄️

I just learned about the Icelandic word gluggaveður!! A word to describe a beautiful-looking day from inside that is actually too unpleasant to be outside in. What a wonderful and descriptive word!!❄️❄️❄️

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photoshop

[naturecpw]

Gluggaveður 🇮🇸 Window Weather 🪟 Temps de Fenêtre

[peneigh-dzredfohl]

icelandic | gluggaveður

This word refers to the kind of weather that is nice to look at through the window but not nice to be out in | like snow, for instance, which is best appreciated from indoors

Go ahead and add images, GIFs, and other things that make you think of window weather!!

[sarahs-delights]

Gluggaveður (n.):

window-weather. Window-weather describes weather that “is nice to look at through a window, but not nice to be out in.”

Weather that looks lovely from inside your house, but is horrible to be outside in. Literally 'window-weather'.

[ticklemonster818]

Gluggaveður 😌

[mhartford]

Gluggaveður at last; going to bed so I can rest for shoveling #minneapolis #minnesota #mnwx #snow #gluggaveður (at Howe, Minneapolis) https://www.instagram.com/p/B5WtQuNF190/?igshid=1kvgjg9oye60n

[justchiarajay]

Annoyance through the window

So, Misha.

I am annoyed with Misha.

I started to type out why, but it’s irrelevant. And really, you don’t care. But I am. Annoyed.

But here’s the thing. The annoyance is there, and I recognize that it exists. But I am also curiously removed from it at the same time. 

I was having breakfast this morning with the lovely roomie and a friend of ours, and I was going on, quite animatedly,  about Gluggaveður. As someone who studied linguistics at two different colleges, I’m a little bit of a word nerd. I especially love words that don’t directly translate into English. I love cultures that have words for things that we never thought of before!

But, getting slowly to the point, I realized that through the meditation exercises I’ve done this month, I was able to successfully remove myself from an emotion that is unproductive. I was able to acknowledge it, examine it with a curious mind, and then place it on the windowsill and close the pane. And it sits there, existing, but not existing.

It’s Schrödinger's emotion.

[justchiarajay]

Gluggaveður

Gluggaveður. What an odd word.

It’s Icelandic, and it’s one of those words that really has no direct English translation. Literally, it means “window weather” and refers to weather that is better experienced through a window. Raining cats and dogs? Three feet of show in the forecast? That’s some Gluggaveður.

It’s pronounced something like ‘glue ka vader.”  Come on, I know you were curious.

In mindfulness practice, we are always trying to observe any strong emotion or reaction, without giving it too much control over us. When something comes up that is unwelcome or unhealthy, it’s best to gaze at it with curiosity and then bat it away. Just like observing a roaring river is more peaceful than being in one, some emotions should be observed dispassionately, from afar. These reactions are the emotional equivalent of Gluggaveður. Sometimes, they are best observed from the other side of the glass.

Now, that is obviously easier said than done, and in the middle of strong feelings, it’s impossible for a new meditator to not be pulled into the distractions. You are sitting there, breathing in, breathing out, and suddenly you are in a spiral about why your crush hasn’t called you, or how much money that credit card bill is going to be, or what didn’t get done this week at work, or, or, or...and you know that it’s not healthy to dwell on...but you can’t seem to let it go. And so you do the only thing you can do.

You return to the breath. Five, seven, twelve, seventeen, a hundred times.

And eventually, you will get the space between you and the river.

Gluggaveður.