I do not think of myself as hospitable. I think of myself as cluttered, bohemian. [is that even a term?!?] I am a full-time mom, full-time teacher, artist, homemaker. I used to do this all with a partner, but now I do it alone. it is the adjustment of taking on all the chores vs. splitting them, of making cleaning fun because we laughed through it – hard.
a few weeks back a close friend said that I had the gift of hospitality. “are you kidding me? I think you’re confusing me with my mom,” I said. “no, no, seriously you have that gift. you always have coffee, biscotti, and an extra stool in the studio.” wow. that warmed my heart.
then just last night, two people dropped by. two of my students, who are grown up now & engaged. we shared a pot of coffee. the girl says, “I love your place. it’s so homey.” through my eyes it is a cluttered abyss of legos, shoes, paper clutter, etc. through her eyes it was homey. she genuinely felt comfortable here.
we are a family of readers which contributes to the clutter. on my coffee table you will always find my big, blue dictionary, and a few gem & mineral resource books, magazines, novels [my escape hatch]… you may also find a stack of art journals with glue sticks, scissors & magazines on the kitchen table.
I recently read something ann voskamp wrote: “homemaking is about making a home, not about making perfection. a perfect home is an authentic, creative, animated space. where Peace and Christ and Beauty are embraced. {perfect does not equate to immaculate.}”
I am learning to be myself & accept who I am. I may be a different sort of homemaker, but I’m okay with that.
