.png)
THE BOUNDARY OF PRESENCE
Posted by Lisa Long on May 18, 2026
"So this Viking Jew will keep trying. To shut the laptop. To silence the phone. To gather with my people. To protect the boundary. To let candlelight win.."
– Lisa Long
I recently read about the Swedish tradition of fredagsmys, literally “cozy Friday.” Every Friday night, families intentionally slow down. They dim the lights. They eat simple comfort food. They put away work. They gather. The goal isn’t perfection, it’s presence.
The article connected it to the Scandinavian idea of hygge (for those “Frozen” fans there’s a song all about this in the stage version)…candlelight, warmth, softness, togetherness. Creating a pocket of calm at the end of the week.
As I read it, I laughed a little. Because in theory, this is Shabbat. I recently explored my ancestry and learned I’m 93 percent Northwestern European (80 percent Irish and 12 percent Scandinavian). When I told my husband, he started calling me “The Viking Jew.”
By day, I’m this community’s CEO. My weeks are full of budgets, personnel issues, security concerns, donor meetings, crises that don’t politely wrap up by sundown Friday. Add to that being a mom of two busy teenagers with their own full plates and Friday often turns into “Fall Down Friday” with little intention of what that “fall down” looks like.
If I’m honest, the hardest part of Shabbat isn’t theology. It’s logistics. It’s the emails still coming in. It’s the one last thing that needs approval. It’s the practice or game that runs late. It’s the mental list that doesn’t quiet just because the sun is setting. And yet, as I read about hygge or fredagsmys, I’m reminded the world is discovering what Judaism has insisted upon for thousands of years: that human beings cannot run endlessly.
I’m sure that, like many of you, I need to be reminded of this boundary, about needing a signal to exhale. Hygge may look soft in its blankets, candles, and warm food. I have to remember that stopping isn’t weak; there is strength in deciding to stop. Shabbat is the ultimate act of resistance in a productivity-obsessed world.
As a CEO, I solve, respond, anticipate, fix. As a mom, I manage, coordinate, show up, drive, remind, organize. Shabbat asks me to do something countercultural…stop. Not because everything is done. Not because the inbox is empty. Not because there’s nothing on the kids’ schedules. But because the sun has set and time itself has shifted.
I need to remember that this is not weakness, it’s discipline.
So, I embrace being called “The Viking Jew,” thinking about how my European ancestors likely gathered around fires on long winter nights. Families circling close. My Jewish ancestors did the same. Candlelight pushing back darkness. The intention of fredagsmys elevated to holiness.
Maybe blending my cultures means recognizing that while many societies value cozy Friday nights, Judaism turned that instinct into sacred architecture. But hygge reminds me that the sensory experience matters. The softness matters. The warmth matters. The table matters. The teenagers rolling their eyes but still sitting down matter.
I will not pretend that we observe Shabbat perfectly in my house. There are sports schedules and community obligations that lead me to fail at keeping this boundary. In a role where people rely on me constantly, maybe I need to use Shabbat as the one time each week when I am
reminded that the world will spin without my email reply. The Federation will survive until Saturday night. This time belongs to something bigger than my to-do list. And, as time continues to speed up with college on the horizon for my kids, they need my presence more than my productivity.
Maybe that’s what both hygge and fredagsmys are trying to teach in their own cultural language: that warmth and rhythm and togetherness are not luxuries. They are survival tools. Judaism simply went one step further and made it holy.
So this Viking Jew will keep trying. To shut the laptop. To silence the phone. To gather with my people. To protect the boundary. To let candlelight win.
|
|
Read past LISA'S LONG VIEW columns HERE.