How to Shake Up 2023
Want to Shake Up 2023? Invite Someone Over.
If the past few years have taught us anything, it’s that our connections have become brittle, and we’re lonelier than we’d like to admit. We’re constantly faced with reasons to be wary. Our culture is factious. We are divided. These “times” have been unprecedented for so long, we might as well nix the “un.” On the other hand, we’ve worn ruts into our couches so deep, we worry we won’t be able to claw out. We try to convince ourselves we’re thriving inside our solitary lives, perfectly happy with the familiar faces and urgent debates on social media. Yet, our nervous systems hum a warning that we’re missing something, and that something is the unpredictable imperfection of face-to-face community.
We’re surrounded by people who share these low-key longings. It’s time to invite one of them over. I’m not talking about treasured family or best friends who know where the key is hidden and how we like our coffee. What I’m proposing is a new rhythm that feels a bit old-timey.
Not long after moving into our new community, my husband and I took a walk through an adjacent neighborhood. We stopped to admire an older home with white paint flaking off its stately façade. It was a diamond that had lost its shine, and it seemed to be in a state of repair. Shielding my eyes from the summer sun, I looked up at the balcony just as a man stepped onto it. “Want to come inside and see the rest?” he asked.
I was exhilarated by his simple, on-the-fly invitation to us, two strangers. Are we allowed to do this? Could it really be that simple?
The fifteen minutes we spent traipsing across his wooden floors, stepping over projects and power tools, changed me. He did not shoo us away or ask us to schedule an appointment. He didn’t cook us an elaborate meal or hand us a glass of perfectly chilled wine. There was nothing cool or fussy or contrived about it. He simply welcomed us in. He trusted that we wouldn’t bring harm or judgment.
It was obvious that he was someone who lives with his arms spread wide in optimism and welcome. I wanted to learn to do the same. I wanted to lean toward others in curiosity. I wanted to laugh too loud, late into the night. I wanted to leave the dishes in the sink and fall into bed exhausted and known.
This shift doesn’t come with a new set of rules to memorize. It’s about tossing the rulebook altogether. These are three simple ways I’ve learned to take the pressure off myself so that I’m more likely to wave someone in.
Don’t over-plan.
True connection grows best in the midst of our full lives. We don’t have to live and die by our schedules. Did you make more chili than you can eat? Call someone. Looking forward to watching the big game? Text someone. The stakes feel lower for everyone when it’s a last-minute ask.
Don’t over-clean.
Our homes are cluttered and messy because we are cluttered and messy. It’s all part of being human, so we might as well be honest about it. (This sort of honesty proves contagious.)
Don’t stress about food.
Repeat after me: It’s not about the food. Now is not the time to try to impress. If we set the bar at simple and accessible, we’re more likely to try. Frozen pizza and grilled cheese sandwiches aren’t classics without reason. A bag of microwave popcorn or a sleeve of Oreos is best when shared. A glass of water really is enough.
We can live by the blue light of isolation, scrolling our devices in order to feel something. Or we can decide that this is our year to take a tiny leap and learn to warm ourselves by the fires of each other.
Will it be a little awkward? Probably. Might we be rejected? Possibly. Will we learn that we can do it, that we’ll get better with practice, and that any small risks will be rewarded with the security and fun of knowing the people near us? Without question. Here’s to shaking things up in 2023. Here’s to us. (Clink!)
Excerpt from Start with Hello by Shannan Martin
, author of The Ministry of Ordinary Places and Falling Free, is a speaker and writer who found her voice in the country and her story in the city. Shannan works as a cook at The Window, a local nonprofit dedicated to feeding its community. She, her jail-chaplain husband, and their kids live as grateful neighbors in Goshen, Indiana. Follow her on Instagram @shannanwrites.
Photograph © LeeAnn Cline, used with permission
