When I was in the UK right after college, Tom and Joanna Gillium took me in like one of their own.
I was their 22-year-old adoptee getting thrown in the Ford Transit van with their 5 kiddos, and it was terrific.
I dropped stuffed animal bombs over the stair railing with their five year old, Tim. I played ping-pong with Hugh. Felt completely lost trying to keep up with Rosie and Ali quoting Ali G at the lunch table, and felt even more lost when their eldest, Ed, tried to teach me about football. ⚽️
They fed me lunch almost every Sunday, took me along to Kensington Gardens to walk their dog Buxton, hooked me up with a room in a beautiful house (while my rent went to charity), and got me a terrific pub job where my love of cooking took off.
They were a major influence in my life and cultivated my value for hospitality and folks getting together to eat.
One summer, they invited me to spend some days with them at their family’s house in the North York Moors.
What a stunning place. We hiked, we ate, we drink whiskey in front of the fire, and we had a terrific day by the sea in Runswick (which I mistakenly called Bruswick for many years). Most of that village got to hear my primal howl when I breached into the water — still frigid in August.
I noticed by about day three of my Yorkshire holiday I started to get twitchy.
I felt guilty about all of this rest and leisure I was enjoying. And I looked at my sweet Gillums, and I wondered how exactly were they able to rest they way they did. It looked that way to me, anyway.
But I noticed it then — I couldn’t chill the boop out.
I still haven’t earned my merit badge for hammock swinging.
Last Friday we went to hang out with the family of one of Noah’s preschool friends (what if we could love and hug each other like 5-year-old besties ps? — so sweet).
Dad Brendan’s from Massachusetts, Irish heritage, and Mom Gabi is from Brazil. There were other Brazilian friends there, and ridiculously good food.
When we arrived I was frazzled, stressed, tired, and real prickly, thinking about all the work I wasn’t getting done.
After we left, I said, “We clearly needed some Brazilian friends.”
How can you be stressed with delicious steak, a beer, and bossa nova playing?
This lesson is showing up for me. It walks in gently and invites me to rest. I usually refuse the invite.
But it’s so crucial. I’m seeing this. Maybe.
And there are glimpses recently that when I do RSVP yes, work-related blessings from surprise sources fly in the door. Funny.
This week we’ve been invited to visit our friends at a beautiful lake in New Hampshire.
I’m DETERMINED I’m going to RELAX :).
Seriously, though, pray for me, saints. I miss moments of beauty, wonder, thank-you, and wow on a regular basis because I think that person is really waiting for my email reply.
I’m not that important, and what terrific information.
Anne Lamott wrote, “Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes… Including you.”
I’m gonna take her advice. I’m inviting you to as well.
(And don’t do what I do here — relax with a PURPOSE — I’m gonna relax so I can….. See? I need help. Lordt.)
I’ll keep you posted.
In the meantime, in the next few days, where can you dedicate some moments to genuine turn-off-your-phone rest time? I’d love to hear what you cook up. I need recipes.
And do remember there’s only one you, and folks need to hear the story only you can sing.
Love much,
Dan
PS I wasn’t the only one influenced by the Gillums’ value for hospitality; their daughter Ali made a whole business out of it. Check her out.