Hospitality we need.

Hospitality; it's a concept I find more and more people have a rather alien apprehension of. It's no longer the norm to just pop in on someone for a cup of coffee. We can no longer expect people to put things aside and just waste time the high quality kind of way: in good company and friendly chit-chat.

Since I have something to say about it, I thought it would be appropriate to define what hospitality really is, so in order to get it right, I found the proper defenition of hospitality online.

It refers to the relationship process between a guest and a host, and it also refers to the act or practice of being hospitable, that is, the reception and entertainment of guests, visitors, or strangers, with liberality and goodwill. 
Hospitality is also known as the act of generously providing care and kindness to whomever is in need.

The Bible say something about it too:

In the New Testament, the Greek word translated “hospitality” literally means “love of strangers.” Hospitality is a virtue that is both commanded and commended throughout Scripture. In the Old Testament, it was specifically commanded by God: “When an alien lives with you in your land, do not mistreat him. The alien living with you must be treated as one of your native-born. Love him as yourself, for you were aliens in Egypt” (Leviticus 19:33-34, emphasis added).

I got this thought in my head that I had something to say about hospitality, so I told a friend that I was thinking about writing a blog about that.

"What will you write in your blog about it?"

Well, I hadn't written the text yet, but from the top of my head I told him that I wanted to write about how easy it is to invite and be friendly and welcoming to people you know really well and have close relation to, and how spotless you feel your house must be for others to see.

"Ha!!", he replied, "Let your closest friends see you really live, but those who are outside the circle see you live in a pristine world".

How very facebook. That is the image we like to give on social medias, unless someone stage a cluttered house, carefully arranged in an effectful way, and post a picture of how terrible their house looks.

I don't have to stage clutter. It is the natural state of my house, but then again: I would rather be caught dead than post a picture of it.

Yet, in the midst of unfolded laundry, toys, books and you name it: in my chaotic place you will at times find all kinds of people drinking coffee or tea, and enjoy the fact that someone has a house messy enough to tell a tale about.

And the funny part of it is, they don't seem to care too much, any of them.

Some times, when my boys have had friends over, and the house is extraordinary untidy, I can literally hear them plan how to tell their family and friends about my poor housewife skills, spicing up their story with embellished descriptions on the state of my house.

I would never keep anyone stand on the porch, just because I am afraid of the inevitable talk. Let them have their moment of relief and friendly haughty laugh.

At the end of the day, I am confident my house is clean enough to stay healthy and messy enough to stay happy, and at the bottom, on the surface of the floor, you will find it is spotless and impeccable clean.

My house is very happy based upon the mess.

I remember vaguely when my parents, on Sunday afternoon, announced: "We are going to pay a visit!" Most often we went to relatives, but also friends of my parents.

Back in those days kids didn't have their own agenda, we lived by the rules and the doings of our parents'.

We went for impulsive visits, often after having been on a hike in the morning and had dinner (tea).

Some times we were the ones getting visitors, and there was always a cake or some other homemade treat served with coffee. 

My mother baked the week's bread and cakes every Saturday. I have no idea what happened to the cakes on the Sundays we didn't stay at home.

We kept up this social life, even after having a phone became common: It was important to see, and spend time, with other people.

Today, with all the health-gurus, and the rules of what to eat and when, and even more important: peoples' constant dieting and attempt to cut back on this or that, people don't bake anymore. We tend to buy something sugary instead, and that's fine, but we shouldn't think anyone expects more than your company. A mere cup of coffee, tea or a glass of something cool is quite sufficient... if you want to offer something.

There are countless reasons to why we don't pay visits anymore, not to the same degree we did before, anyway. We are entertained in our own home by digital and electronic gadgets and medias, apparently we don't feel the same need for company anymore.

Another reason is that people are busy. We work, kids need a lift here and there (and some times everywhere), we need to keep our house and garden, and days go by and time just doesn't seem to add up. The recipe to the classic time pressure and stress mess.

In an ideal world, we wouldn't sacrifice spending time with friends and family. In an ideal world we would still plan and agree upon doing things together.

I am sure I would never regret doing that, but there is a good chance I would regret I never did.

I often get the question: "How do you do it? How do you find the energy to invite people into your home?" Truth is I very seldom do, but I always invite people who ring the doorbell in.

I don't have more energy than other people, I have come to terms with my limits, and feel comfortable with the consequences. I have to admit I suffered from a stress attack before I settled for far less than a perfect house.

Just like everybody else, we have special occasions when we want the house to sparkle. And we do fuss about cleaning everything; floors, door knobs, windows... you know: a thorough, total, old fashioned "cleaning the house".

But we don't do it every day just because we fear someone should see the state of our everyday house.

In many ways I have escaped the merry-go-round. I do not deliver instamoments in form of three courses, or perfect displays. (I love candles! They are everywhere in my house, but that's not the same thing.)

I can't live up to the expectations, and my health tells me I can't even try. So I create my own standards. And I am actually a tiny bit, secretly proud, to be breaking the code of "good housewifing".

In a society, where the image and the deceitful lies prevails the community, it is easy to forget that friendship and fellowship are about letting people into our lives and homes. Vi need to be together, talk with one another, laugh together, play, share and listen to one another.

Our time is becoming a time for hundreds of contacts and likes. We have fewer friends and close relationships than before. We are afraid to let our masks fall; to show who we really are has become somewhat of a hazard. 

Our kids think they are with friends when they sit alone in their rooms, gaming with their friends who sit alone in their rooms.

While we waste time on social medias in order to post funny quotas, like strangers' dinnerplans and ignoring the rules of safety online, our single socks and dirty dishes pile up. We tell about the scandalous kitchen floor, but don't take time to sweep up the crumbs. We settle for telling about how good we feel about having done it.

We tell the world about our wannabe selves, forgetting that when we are sure about who we really are, it doesn't matter if things are a bit thrown out of gear.

Instead we keep up appearance diving into different sizes screens.

In Norway vast amount of money is spent every year on redecorating and nick-nacks. But many of us never show anyone our displays, other than to create instamoments and facebook likes.

I find it sad. Our most widespread disease is lonelyness. We miss the parts of the conversations which we replace with emoticons.

We are made to have companionship, to be affected by others face to face. Being together makes us alive and present.

I think our entire society will be a better place if we dare to step back, to leave our mobile phones, tablets and computers alone and pay eachother a visit.

I hope dropping by will be in fashion again. I hope we have not lost the art of real fellowship. I hope we get brave enough to pay eachother visits again. I hope we can get past the wall we build between us and those we perceive as different. I hope we become generous enough to invite those who cross our path for our own sake. Otherwise, we will turn into a people in need.