Last year, I shared this post of AWESOME tips from my friend C on how to host & entertain well throughout this busy season. There are practical tips, as well as a general mentality on how to host people so that they really feel cared for; entertaining not for the sake of looking good or putting on a show, but serving the ones we love.
One of the tips she shared was that long ago she bought a set of plain, white dishes that they use for hosting events. Great idea, but many of the comments afterwards referred to the extra space it would take, the extra stuff to manage, etc.
Minimalism is the new black (perhaps a cultural response to our over-stuffed lives), so the concept of hoarding extra, occasional items may be frowned upon. It’s very un-KonMarie.
May I suggest an age-old solution that we learned way back in kindergarten?
It seems like something we should be good at by now. We want kids to learn to share, and in fact we DELIGHT to see children working together or trading toys back & forth. There’s always plenty to go around, after all, and it would seem strange for children to sit each in their own corners of a playroom with their own set of the same toys.
However, when it’s me, I am MORE THAN HAPPY for that to be my reality!
I don’t want to go and borrow my neighbor’s ladder “all the time” (or is it the two times per year that I use one?). I’ve got to go over to there, when they are home, arrange for a timeline (how long will it take me?! I don’t know! The pressure!)
And shouldn’t I just own my own ladder? I’m sure that future issues will arise that will require a ladder; it seems like something that is a mark of being a responsible, grown-up homeowner: ladder ownership.
Sharing possessions, as adults, feels so… inconvenient. It feels dependent. And independence & convenience are two qualities that we value extremely highly in our culture.
I’ve resisted borrowing goods because it feels like I’m too cheap or too lazy to get my own; I’ve bought seldom-used tools or kitchen gadgets simply because I’m embarrassed by how it looks if I “keep” asking someone else.
A turning point came for me when I met a neighbor of ours with a backyard pool. He saw us in the sprinkler one day and said, “I have a pool! Come use it whenever I am home!” It took me about 2 years to take him up on the offer, but once I did, it was fantastic! My fear of feeling imposing (“Oh, we should just pay to use the community public pool”) was slowly overcome by 1) our neighbor’s easygoing generosity 2) the convenience — the pool is 6 houses away 3) the free-ness of it all: it only cost me making them one pie! (and, in fact, I often went home with lettuce & other spoils of their garden!)
Pride can be such an unhelpful companion, and I realized that by hiding behind my pride & fear, I was missing out on so much:
I can admit, at this point I may have swung to the far opposite end of the spectrum, as I’ve now borrowed everything from rakes to limes to coffee urns from my neighbors & family! But, though I joke about being the needy neighbor, I think that more than anything, it bonds us. It certainly provides me with more excuses to pop by and check in with how they are doing, or what is happening in their lives.
The most embarrassing thing I've ever borrowed is an artificial Christmas tree (to use as a prop for photographs of our holiday kantha quilts). Have you ever borrowed or lent something completely strange or surprising? Share in the comments below!
Somehow, impossibly, I travelled around the world one year ago!
I am deeply grateful to have taken a trip to Bangladesh when I did. I was at a stage of my life & business when the adrenaline had long worn off, and I was a getting a bit stuck in a cultural mindset trap: "I don't feel like doing this every day."
More details on that, I'll save for another day (or perhaps for a more intimate conversation!). But, let it suffice to say that my colleagues in Bangladesh do NOT operate from that mindset... it doesn't even factor into the conversation.
Being reminded of this, as well as seeing — in person — the inner workings and impact of the blanket biz on the production side... well, it was deeply regenerative for me.
If I had not visited in January 2020, I don't know when that trip would have taken place! Soooo thankful.
Here is one story of a woman artisan I met: Poli.
This season for dignify has challenged us with waiting. Blankets have been leaving our hands at the fastest pace ever (yay!) and we are trying to simply keep up. Add extra inconveniences & delays (from COVID, from customs checks, and more), and we have been really exercising our muscles in patience, trust, and gratitude.
Culturally, we are in a stage of waiting, as well. Waiting for vaccine rollout. Waiting for "normal" opportunities to return, for "normal" life to resume in our cities, our nations.