Hospitality as Meditation

To invite someone to dine, is to be responsible for his happiness in every detail.

                              --- Beaudelaire 

Not sure why I poured myself - heart, soul, and body-wise into making sure every detail was just right for this celebration for a friend whose first memoir was just published. There There Now, by Carol Wolleson is a fun and well-written read about her coming of age during the sixties and seventies in San Francisco.

I was thinking about the why of my exacting preparation Saturday night while listening to some of my favorite radio shows and futzing in the kitchen over cruditeé and dips, Chile Cheese Squares and chips, sixty heart-shaped tea sandwiches with cream cheese and watercress, cucumber, green onion slivers, and red pepper, and butter and radish sandwiches. Everything I did felt like an expression of love and gratitude for the new community I landed in so late in life that I thought I wouldn't be able to fit into anyone else's available time slots for an extra friend. I'm so happy to have been wrong. 

Everyone the author invited came. The party turned out to be lovely. Carol read some selected chapters, twenty-five of us toasted her with champagne and ate Madeleines she'd requested alongside all the other food I'd prepared. Some guests also brought offerings of wine, fruit, plants for the hostess, and cookies. It was so much fun, I'd like to make another party for when my book is complete. 

Spending six-and-a-half hours on Zoom Video Conference Calling Saturday, my three Southern California Writing buddies and I read aloud from our current work. Their books are past completion. They should be OUT THERE, NOW and in the hands of people who really NEED their messages about how to survive being bullied and how to survive those fuster-clucks Life throws at us. I want to be present for Jaimi's book launch and for Kelly's. I hope Ellen, who is a therapist, may take up her writing mantle again, but I don't think she's yet ready. She's still carrying a full client load. I observed for myself that working with clients for the bulk of each day's hours left very little creative juice flowing and available for writing. Being creative in the treatment room is very different from being creative on the page, but it is creative work nonetheless. It requires us to be present in the moment no matter what's happening with the client, within ourselves, or in the field that is created between us.

Maybe creativity for most of us flows from just one outlet at a time. For the few Renaissance People among us, who can create in every moment in any discipline, rules do not apply.

A friend, who is a singer-song-writer and visual artist, is so multi-talented that he can walk by his garage workbench day or night, wave his hands around and a brand new guitar pops out. THAT'S a Renaissance Man. His latest CD is a gem and features the mellow and bright tones of some of his newest guitar babies. He plays masterfully while singing at the same time. Amazing. I recommend it: Barry Dow...   Not For Hire.

Watching a trailer for Incredibles 2 one morning before carpool, with the nine-year-old granddaughter, we giggled at the versatility of young Jack Jack who can self-immolate and survive, use laser vision to cut through anything, and move himself through barriers of any kind. Jack Jack is a fantastical sort of Renaissance being, but still... SUPER creative!!

To create a hospitable surround for the purpose of cultivating inner peace, outward calm, and communion with others is not such an easy task. Turns out that what brings peace to one may bring boredom to another, and vice versa. 

In the same way anthropologist Michael Harner created a distillation of shamanic practices from all over the globe, and taught what he called "Core Shamanism" to cultures who had lost touch with their ancient traditions, practices and rituals for healing, I wonder if there is a distillation of just right furnishings that promote the peace I seek. Oh, yes. It's called Feng Shui. (I hear my husband's joke in my head about being given a book on Feng Shui but not knowing where to put it.) 

Still, I don't think placement of mirrors or little hexagonal windows or beaded goo-gaws will solve all the problems of the world or of human relations; Feng Shui is not a one-size-fits-all. Perhaps, then the proof is in the belief?

I was certain that the time spent thinking about each person who was coming and addressing her particular needs was time well spent. Not thinking for each one, but rather about her. A couple of guests had need of a foot perch for recent owies, so I put out stools. Others needed specific supports for back comfort so I made sure there was a variety of chairs. Still others needed to know what was in each food, so as not to trigger allergies. Calligraphed signage was fun to create. We all needed a secure place to set down our tall, wobbly and elegant champagne flutes. My tasks were based in being conscious, and so became my weekend meditation. In the middle of Sunday's prep, my beloved flew home from camp for a few days. After retrieving him from the airport, his help and that of a few gal pals who came early to help set-up, put the solo endeavors of the two previous days back into community. The team rallied and all was put out and arranged artfully in a timely way. This is very different from how I used to operate. In the past, I took on way too much to do in a way too small window of time and then feel frazzled. Maybe maturity plays a roll here, but I think mostly it's meditation spreading like a balm over the sea of my life, affecting all I do; slowing it down, allowing for precision and true enjoyment of each task. I mean, what's not to like about using a heart-shaped cookie cutter on a good white sourdough bread? That's not Renaissance, but it is hospitality... and meditative!