Let's Talk Lavender
Stillness. Story. Self.
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Let's Talk Lavender
Fridge Magnets and ....connection.
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Good you're here. Let's talk lavender. Today we're going to contemplate fridge magnets. Mm-hmm. Fridge magnets. What comes to mind when you think of fridge magnets? Well, if you think of today's kitchens, uh stainless steel seems to be very in. Most modern, supposedly attractive kitchens have clean lines, usually granite, maybe marble, and the high-end ones, stainless steel, matching appliances, all very social media-y and Instagram-y, everything sleek and quiet. It looks clean and very, very orderly. And now dig around in your memory for a minute and find that person who had a fridge, usually an old one, covered in fridge magnets. There would be something to look at when you sat in their kitchen, catching up while they cleaned up or made food or did something useful. There'd be promotional fridge magnets from new businesses, the jaunty new pizza place down the street, always with a discount code. There'd be the boring fridge magnet with poison control numbers and some stern, usually quite judgy advice. The weird one shaped like a chef's hat or a whisk or a dog that no one remembers putting there. And then they'd be the magnets from trips, places visited, cheesy ones from Vegas or Cancun or Hawaii or Vermont. Vermont always in the shape of a cheese wedge. And then there'd be photos tacked to the door, held up with the fridge magnets, smiling people, blurred cheek kisses, heads thrown back in the light of a camera flash. Pictures of marshmallowy babies, self-conscious partners, childhood friends, that distinct aura of lifelong friends in the noisy dark at a table with an empty bottle of wine between you. Or they'd be taken out in your grandmother's little yard, everyone squinting into the sun. One glance at this fridge, and you could tell so much about a person. Mostly, you could tell that they loved and were loved. And that's all you really need to know about someone. There's always somewhere to go from there. Oh, you went to Vegas. Was it fun? Oh is that your child your friend from childhood? Oh is that your niece? Is that your nephew? Whose dog is that? He's so cute. We love golden retrievers. Quickly you know they're dog people and you love dog people. Quickly, you know they go to social events and have fun and friends. They celebrate things and people. And you love that in people. Maybe there's a coy snapshot of someone cozy under the blankets, shyly glancing up but captured and put on a fridge. And you love those people. Hmm What is this? What does it mean? It's a little window for you to peek into a visible little window into their world. Tiny lights reaching out with golden threads for you to grab onto and create a connection. And all you have to do is reach out in that cozy kitchen and ask one question. But no, someone decided that connection and life and personal histories and stories were messy or even unhygienic. They needed to be whisked out of sight and the fridge door wiped clean. And the rest of us followed. Sure your kitchen is clean and bright. But at what price? Where's the life? Where's the love? Everyone lives their lives digitally now on their phones. Pictures on their phones, messages on their phones, histories on their phones. Even voicemails are becoming rare as people text anonymously and silently. No human voice or tone. Just information, which is often misconstrued or misunderstood, as we all know too well. What tone did this message have? We find ourselves asking over and over. A thousand pictures from Disneyland all hidden on your phone. And not one silly one for strangers and new people and families and friends to see and to enjoy or to make fun of, teasing you gently in a way that makes you feel loved and seen and appreciated for your cheesiness, your silliness, and your humanness. So why not put a little of your life and love on display? Put the mementos on a pinboard. Anything. Get creative. Put them somewhere. It doesn't have to be a big place for others to see, to reach out, to comment. Give people an avenue for connection. Give them something to start a conversation, to ask a question, to reach out to the real you for real connection. Think about that today. Find one thing, one place where you can show off a little of your life and who you really are. Your quirks, your kindnesses, your joys, your uniqueness. Because these are the things that everybody wants and craves. These are the things we're looking for. We're not looking for sterile kitchens with perfect glasses of wine standing around awkwardly. We're looking for glimpses of humanity, glimpses of commonality, glimpses of sameness, glimpses of similar things that give us joy. Glimpses of shared hilarity, glimpses of humor, shared humor. But don't always make people have to dig through sterility and blankness to find it. Find a spot. Leave it. Just leave it there. See what happens. A tiny little corner of your desk. Your cubicle at work. A few personal things in your car. Get the Star Trek keychain, the silly patty on your desk, the orchid, the photo frame of all your besties. Or if you're feeling really bold, fridge magnets. There's so much to love about you. You have so much to share with another person. Your light, your humor, your sensitivity, the beautiful, unique way that you show up in the world. Your incredible ability to love another person and just by being yourself make them feel worthy and joyful and alive. And for them to make you feel like you belong. What a grand thing indeed. And just remember, those avocado green and shag carpeted kitchens of the nineteen seventies were once considered the height of sophistication and taste. What will you think of your trendy kitchen in twenty years? Hmm. All right, love. Let me know how you're doing. Have a great day.