Happiness. Contentment. Joy. We all know what it means, and how it feels—not to mention how it doesn’t. (Remember 2020?) But how to achieve it? That question has bothered philosophers from Aristotle to Oprah.
There are dozens of ways to find happiness globally. It could be as simple as doing nothing in Italy, or finding beauty in the passing of time in Japan, or just drinking in your underwear in Finland.
This global primer will help you find joy in 14 different ways—all different cultural pursuits of happiness.
Aloha (Hawai‘i)
Translation: Love, affection
How the Hawaiians do it: Hawai‘i regularly tops lists of the happiest states in the U.S.—and much of that can be attributed to the spirit of aloha, or “being in the presence of and sharing the essence of life,” as Go Hawai‘i defines it.
“While I wouldn’t say that aloha translates directly as ‘happiness’ in Hawaiian, I would say that both words are layered and tangentially related in their interpretations,” says Charity Yoro, a poet who grew up on O‘ahu. “Aloha is both a greeting and a farewell, an expression of love for a person/people, as well as for the land (aloha‘āina). And the origin of aloha—ha being breath, life—calls to mind the Buddhist perception of happiness as equanimity. Happiness as temporal and enduring as breath.”
How to practice it yourself: As Go Hawai‘i puts it: “The spirt of aloha teaches us lessons of peace, kindness, compassion, and responsibility to future generations.”
Azart (Russia)
Translation: Taking chances, ardor
How the Russians do it: Helen Russell, author of The Atlas of Happiness: The Global Secrets of How to Be Happy, told Afar that azart means a “burning urge to lunge at everything life throws your way, to take chances, no matter the consequences. . . . There’s also a hint of suffering involved, the idea that you will suffer for your pleasure.” We’re talking sweating in humid bathhouses or engaging in intense, vodka-fueled conversations.
How to practice it yourself: As Russell explains, you’re looking for a combination of excitement, risk-taking, and suffering. “It’s not a comfy, cozy kind of feeling. [It’s] more like you feel really alive.” One tip: Do like the Russians and avoid small talk in favor of posidelki, or “kitchen talks,” which are more meaningful conversations. Try bringing up the current U.S. relationship with Russia with your argumentative neighbor if you really want to feel alive.
This type of contentment is also related to community spirit. The Russian word for happiness—schastye—is etymologically different from the Western notion. The English word “happiness” originates from the Old Norse hap or “good luck,” implying that a happy person is someone who has had good fortune. Numerous scholars have noted that schastye stems from the noun chast, meaning “a part,” indicating that the Russian idea of happiness involves being part of something bigger.
Dolce far niente (Italy)
Translation: The sweetness of doing nothing
Trieste, Italy, is a great place to practice dolce far niente.
Photo by Felix Bruggemann
How the Italians do it: They slow down and enjoy the moment. “We live in a world where we feel like we constantly have to keep busy,” Roman food tour operator (and author of The Sweetness of Doing Nothing: Live Life the Italian Way with Dolce Far Niente) Sophie Minchilli told Afar. “The more our schedules fill up, the more we feel important and purposeful. . . . Italians have a different approach to life. They have figured out a way of being in the moment with such joy and blissfulness that they don’t need to ‘look forward’ to anything else.”
How to practice it yourself: Find at least 10 minutes a day to stop and pause. Grab a copy of Bertrand Russell’s In Praise of Idleness. Or don’t, if that feels like too much hard work. In her book, Minchilli suggests prioritizing enjoying good food and good company. Where better to do that than in actual Italy?
Fika (Sweden)
Translation: Time out to eat and socialize
How the Swedes do it: They stop what they’re doing and grab a coffee with friends. “Swedish fika is about comfort and mys [the Swedish word for coziness],” says Filip Åkerblom, CEO of coffee roastery and café Lilla Kafferosteriet in Malmö, Sweden. “It is a cheap way of spoiling and treating yourself with sweets and coffee to keep the spirit and mind on a positive path.”
How to practice it yourself: Put the kettle on and shut the laptop. Fika is “bonding, coffee, chat, cake—being with [your] nearest and dearest,” adds Stockholm resident Abbie Connors.
Friluftsliv (Norway)
Translation: Outdoor living, or outdoor activity
How the Norwegians do it: Even when temperatures plunge to Ice Age levels, Norwegians ensure that they’re getting outside. In fact, the snow, wind, and rain seem to add to the pleasure, as if connecting with the elements requires giving yourself an icy lashing. Norway is home to an embarrassment of perspective-altering landscapes—craggy mountains, beautiful fjords, and dramatic coastlines—making roaming outdoors all the more rewarding.
How to practice it yourself: You may or may not live next to a remote wilderness or a waterfall steeped in myth, but you can replicate some of that friluftsliv almost anywhere. Mere minutes among trees with a phone left at home can help: One study found that a 90-minute walk in nature delivered lower levels of negative self-thought and a decreased level of activity in the prefrontal cortex, where anxiety and stress live; even just viewing a nature scene can have a positive impact on recovery from stress.
Gemütlichkeit (Germany)
Translation: Coziness, contentment
The German concept of gemütlichkeit involves feeling like you belong in a community, which these dancers in Dusseldorf seem to have down.
Photo by Felix Brüggemann
How the Germans do it: Gemütlichkeit is a bit like hygge, a feeling of warmth and well-being, perhaps best exemplified by a Glühwein in a Christmas market—but it doesn’t require booze or snow. It’s often used to describe cozy rental homes, but it’s not just about place, either. It’s a feeling conjured by an environment, within a group of people finding a contented stillness.
How to practice it yourself: You can gather favorite items in a snug spot and shut out the digital world, but you’ll still need to slow your mind down to achieve peak gemütlichkeit. Remember, a key element of the concept is the sense of belonging to a community; why not seek it out on a trip to Germany, to visit one of its many festivals in the summer or Christmas markets in the winter?
Gezelligheid (The Netherlands)
Translation: Conviviality, community, fun
How the Dutch do it: Gezelligheid is another somewhat nebulous term, but it’s essentially about good times as a group—or, as author Chris Colin defines it: “cozy conviviality.” (Given the Netherlands’ proximity to Germany, it’s perhaps not a surprise how similar gezelligheid and gemütlichkeit are.) Dutch citizen Willemijn Pfeifer told Culture Trip that, to her, it’s “talking and laughter and people having fun together.”
How to practice it yourself: Gezelligheid, Colin says, “emphasizes homey atmospherics: Pillows. Old postcards on the wall. Cat in your lap. The recipe is ever refinable. Soft, warm lighting can nudge things toward the gezellig. A long winter outside the door helps. The right music helps. Pace helps, too—the slow living trend is de rigueur here.”
Take time for family, too, although Pfeifer warns that “a situation is only truly gezellig if everyone feels relaxed and comfortable in their surroundings.” So maybe lay off politics or religion when you do meet up.
Hygge (Denmark)
Translation: Comfort or coziness
How the Danish do it: The primary principles of hygge—which became a global phenomenon thanks to the omnipresence of Scandinavian design—are atmosphere, presence, pleasure, gratitude, and togetherness. It’s about savoring the simple pleasures that bring joy. “I think the best short definition of hygge is the art of creating a warm atmosphere,” says Meik Wiking, CEO of the Happiness Research Institute and a New York Times best-selling author about happiness. “It is about finding comfort in togetherness, relaxation, and simple pleasures.”
How to practice it yourself: Giving thanks isn’t just for Thanksgiving. Find a favorite pair of pants (hyggebukser) and a cozy spot (hyggekrog) and really be present and grateful as you indulge in the small pleasures. Need a little more guidance? There are all manner of resources available for how to achieve hygge, including an award-winning 2018 documentary film, Finding Hygge, that digs into the concept.
Joie de vivre (France and French Canada)
Translation: Joy in life, ebullience
Strasbourg, France, is an ideal spot to find joie de vivre, whether picknicking in Orangerie Park or dining in the Old Town.
Photos by Felix Bruggemann
How the French do it: The familiar French term dates back several hundred years (and was the title of an 1884 novel by Émile Zola), and the French are pretty practiced at it by now, with coffee, croissants, and other clichés supplementing a lifestyle that benefits from having one of the highest amounts of paid time-off days in the world. (According to one accounting, 36 days a year, tied with Spain for second, behind Austria.) The Canadians have mastered joie de vivre, too—via ice hockey and canoe sex, in addition to maple syrup and destination-worthy cuisine.
How to practice it yourself: An observational study from University College London found that “the maintenance of positive wellbeing . . . [was] systematically related to subsequent mortality.” The happier live longer. Find things that spark joy, whether it’s a visit to a recently reopened historic cathedral or a tour of a champagne cave in Reims.
Kalsarikannit (Finland)
Translation: Partying alone
How the Finns do it: It’s “a Finnish way to party by yourself,” say Finnish media relations reps Anu Huusko, Päivi Heikkala, and Minna Gurney. “You don’t have to dress up; your underwear or nightgown is enough.” Kalsarikannit is a fun alternative to another Finnish way of life: sisu, meaning courage or grit, which entails never giving up even despite hard (and freezing) conditions. You might say the Fins are determined to party in their underwear, no matter the temperature.
How to practice it yourself: The days of pandemic lockdowns are, thankfully, a long way in the rearview mirror, but that doesn’t mean the occasional night home alone won’t do you some good. Get a bottle of something nice (be it a beer, wine, or spirit), slip into something comfortable, and toast to yourself.
Meraki (Greece)
Translation: Doing something with love and care
How the Greeks do it: As Hunter S. Thompson (and others) have said, if it’s worth doing, it’s worth doing right. Dr. Myrto Hatzimichali from the University of Cambridge told the Guardian that meraki means “taking pleasure at your work. Doing something with joy, attention to detail, putting the extra mile.”
How to practice it yourself: Meraki could mean putting a bit more effort in at your job, or just really leaning into any new hobby or craft project. You don’t need to be an infamous gonzo journo to find satisfaction in a task well done.
Saudade (Brazil, Portugal)
Translation: Nostalgia, longing for a happiness that once was, happy melancholy
How the Brazilians do it: The Portuguese term saudade is another quasi-untranslatable term, but this one is a bit different from the rest. Rather than appreciating what you have, it’s about becoming aware of what you don’t—or never did. Portuguese poet Teixeira de Pascoaes defined it as “the action of desire on remembrance and of remembrance on desire.” Brazilians, meanwhile, consider it—in the words of 1940s writer Osvaldo Orico—“more happy than sad, more imagination than pain.” Perhaps the most classic Brazilian expression is in the famous bossa nova song “The Girl from Ipanema,” where the singer describes watching a beautiful woman walk by without ever speaking to her.
How to practice it yourself: Saudade is about realizing what’s important and finding meaning in life from that—about indulging in a bittersweet nostalgia. In a way, it’s that awareness of what’s not there that drives many of us to travel so extensively.
Ubuntu (South Africa)
Translation: “I am because we are”
How the South Africans do it: This concept first entered the U.S. consciousness when coach Doc Rivers made it the motto for his 2007–2008 NBA champion Boston Celtics. President Obama then brought it to a wider audience during a tribute to Nelson Mandela, saying it was “a word that captures Mandela’s greatest gift: his recognition that we are all bound together in ways that are invisible to the eye; that there is a oneness to humanity; that we achieve ourselves by sharing ourselves with others, and caring for those around us.” In Malawi, known as the “warm heart of Africa,” the same concept is known as uMunthu.
How to practice it yourself: Pop your social media bubble, reach out across the aisle, think collectively. Maybe you can increase someone else’s happiness while augmenting your own.
Wabi sabi (Japan)
Translation: celebrating transience
Hanami, or flower-viewing, is a popular practice in Japan (particular during cherry blossom season) and an example of wabi sabi.
Photo by Geoff Haggray
How the Japanese do it: Wabi essentially means “simplicity,” and sabi “the beauty of age and wear.” Taken together, the idea is to accept and celebrate imperfection and transience.
How to practice it yourself: While we can’t control external factors that exert stress on us, we can take a moment to rest and recharge. In Japan, that can take the form of forest bathing: a walk among your nearest trees or in another kind of natural setting. Stop and look around—observing the changes of the natural world offers a way to tune into wabi sabi.
This article was originally published in November 2020 and was updated in July 2025 with new information.
