Meaningful Connection

On keeping the door open, no matter the mess inside

To accompany this letter, a playlist for you, as you make magic in the kitchen this season. Songs To Cook Dinner To

Dear Reader,

Little pleasures are on my mind this week as holidays grow nearer.

What is there to delight in?

For me, it’s the anticipation of gathering together, often over something delicious, clinking glasses in acknowledgement of one another and the miracle it is to be here, together, now. It’s the cold that creeps down from over the mountain and through our open windows (the privilege of late November in the tropics). Pull the comforter up tight, Winter is here. It’s a new cozy pair of socks (yes, I’ve been raiding my own shop). It’s living strictly by twinkle light and candlelight after sundown. It’s early bedtimes that gift waking at dawn-break to see the first hot pink flash of first light. It’s the invitation to settle into more intimate relationship with home and the magic mundanity required to tend to it, and even more, the seasonal inspiration to make it a shrine to warmth and love.

While many a holiday host, parents of small children, and parents to small businesses jump into the end of year rip tide, I’m savoring the slow. Relishing in the quiet moments. Cherishing the precious few, intentionality, and quality time. While teasingly accused by my partner of being one to prioritize form over function (one, I have strong Libra placements in my birth chart, I can’t be helped, and two, I wish to defend that I strongly value a balance of both), this week I’ve been reflecting on the presence of meaningful connection even in not so beautiful or plain places and presentations.

I devote my life to seeking pleasure through beauty — a definition up to personal interpretation and one I’ve certainly revised throughout my years. I am lit up by a thoughtful arrangement, an inviting table scape, an interesting palette of color, a quality textile, the right lighting, and visual layers of interest. But in my advocation for the accessibility of simple pleasures and connected living to all walks of folks, with that comes the understanding that these delights and vital experiences very much can, and do, exist in the full spectrum of environments.

Yesterday afternoon while driving home through town, plantation-era homes lined along the road’s edge, I passed a silver pole tent erected in a front yard, silver tarps strapped tight along three sides to protect from wind. Surely, inside was a row of plastic folding tables and white chairs. While not my personal flavor of a beautiful dining environment, I know without a doubt, that generations of family — related and chosen — will gather tightly in this tent later this week, filling the space with laughter and story and plates full of food made by many hands. If we could all be this lucky.

Even in the continued construction on our casetta, it can feel impossible to entertain the idea of entertaining. But it’s not done. The best reply being but who cares. One of the everyday things I treasure most about cultures not my own that I’ve observed from traveling through Italy and living here in Hawai’i is that the door to meaningful connection is always open. Even when there are dishes in the sink and the lawn isn’t mowed and the laundry is still on the line — come on in. Because time spent together takes residence in the memory more than the imperfections of the place we make them in. Put out the invitation. Call your people in. Light the fire and everyone bring a dish. Something good is sure to come of it.

Additional good reads for the week —

The Power Of The Table

Perhaps The World Ends Here

Wishing you warmth, however you gather this season —