Hospitality is the attitude and practice of providing the atmosphere and opportunities, however risky, in which strangers are free to become friends, thereby feeling accepted, included, and loved.
Steve Clapp
In a year where gathering in person around the kitchen table with friends has not been an option, I’ve spent a lot of time reading and reflecting on the importance of gathering. In this pandemic life, I have not missed large events, parties, and busy schedules. As an introvert, I am often content to be alone. I have, however, greatly missed gathering with friends. I have missed inviting friends for dinner or lingering over coffee.
Growing up, our home was always a welcoming place, the door always open, and it was not uncommon for a last-minute guest to join us at the dinner table. My parents could create an atmosphere where strangers became instant friends. So naturally, I assume hospitality was my thing until I got married and had my own house.
As someone who thrives in structure, I liked everything in its place, and spontaneous was not my natural bent. My husband did not naturally find himself to be someone who enjoyed lingering at the table, and while we longed to have an inviting home, we quickly discovered it didn’t come naturally. Did you know that little things like clearing the table too soon at the end of a meal can send messages like, “we’re done here, time for you to leave”?
A friend who was spending a few nights with us arrived at our house to find me in jeans and a sweater. “Where are you headed?” she asked. The answer, I was headed nowhere. So she wondered then why I appeared in going-out clothes. I had not thought about it; I came home from work, changed out of my business attire, and put on my jeans. At that time, I didn’t own comfy clothes. You know the hang-out around the house yoga pants that never do yoga? Not in my wardrobe because honestly, I didn’t know how just to hang out; I was always going and doing.
I began to learn that providing an atmosphere for others to feel comfortable, invited, and loved was not about how I decorated my home or the food I served. It was an attitude that includes the learned art of being. I had to be comfortable to provide a comfortable environment. If I wanted people to feel comfortable coming into my home, I had to live more authentically in my home. I needed to get some comfy leisurewear and stop staging my house as if it was going on the market to be sold.
It might feel odd to talk about hospitality when most of us still live where we can’t invite others to come and linger over meals at our kitchen table. Yet, if you think about it, now is the perfect time to do some housekeeping. Not the clean your house type of housekeeping, but considering what story you and your home tell others. When we are not intentional about what we want to say, we can send unintentional messages to those who enter our home.
If, like me, hospitality isn’t natural to you, but your heart desires to create a welcoming space, it’s possible. And, you don’t have to have a messy home or wear leisure clothes all the time, although you can if you want to. The learned art of hospitality starts with your heart, mindset, and intention about the story your home tells others.
Julie Hurlow, Transcendence at the Table
A hospitable space offers sincerity of love
by saying over and over again,
“you are welcome here.”
Five things I tell my new friends:
- If you come to my house and it’s clean, know I didn’t clean it for you. I am my best self in an uncluttered space.
- Also, know if I come to your house and it’s not clean, there is no judgement; I love being welcomed into your ordinary everyday life.
- If I invite you over for dinner, feel free to bring nothing or everything that needs to be eaten up from your refrigerator. It is what it is; this is real life.
- When you come to my house, it’s come as you are. If I wear real button pants, it’s probably because I needed to feel like a grownup. If you can not adult today, you are welcome to show up in those yoga pants that have never done yoga.
- If you visit often, you will need to learn your way around the kitchen; this is a help yourself zone. I forget to eat, and I lose track of time, so if you are thirsty or hungry, help yourself.
Oh, and PS, the tissues are in the hallway bathroom.
Welcome to our beautiful chaos.
