The Messy Revolution

It’s Monday at 1:10pm. I’m sitting at Pizzicato, scarfing down the lunch special and working furiously on booking our upcoming summer tour. As a professional musician, business owner and mother of 2, I feel like multi-tasking is as native to me as walking or breathing, or at least as required. And although, some might tell you that working all the time is bad, it’s been my dream to be a professional musician since I was 4 years old. Believe me when I say, THIS doesn’t feel like work. All these emails, cross referencing, following up and every other minute of work, feels like a privilege. Especially considering that I make music with my best friend (who happens to be my hubs) and some of my favorite people (who happen to be amazingly talented).

Munching on a veggie slice and working on our website, I hit up a dear friend (and fellow musician), Jeremy. Recently he held an event called Chili and Cinnamon Rolls (learn more about this tradition here) at his home. It was kid friendly and I was planning on making it, but as things often go, two kiddo meltdowns later, we ended up at home instead.

I was genuinely bummed though. Lately, Jeremy has been hosting a lot of fun & casual events at his house. Everything from BBQs to just-because dinners, it seems like once a quarter he has been opening up his house to a hodgepodge of friends from different circles.

So, I text him and tell him how sorry I was to miss it. As the conversation continues, he tells me why he’s been holding these events. He said, he went to Europe twice last year and while he was there, he saw that most people live communally. Whether or not they have roommates, they lived shared lives. They have dinner together, their homes are open. “Life with company,” Jer says, “is a lot more fun.”

I grew up in Alaska and living communally was, simply, the way life was done. You don’t lock your doors, you watch your friend’s babies if they have a job interview, more nights than not you can expect a guest at dinner, and when you go to Safeway, you’ll know most people you see in the aisles. In America, this may be as “small-town”as you get - which I always loved. I loved how people took care of each other and lived a shared existence. Alaska living isn't for me or for our family, but there are so many aspects of it that I miss every single day.

While Portland is my favorite city for many reasons (food, beer, wine, music, city planning, I can go on), one thing I’ve noticed about the Pacific Northwest in particular is that we tend to live very solitary lives. Yes, some of us are extroverts and introverts, and that influences how much time we can deal with people. But, this PNW isolation feels deeper than just two ends of a spectrum. Here, it can feel like people just want seclusion all the time, afraid to seek out anything other than their day-to-day routine. And when we do open our homes, our houses are perfectly clean and organized, our children are put to bed, and we apologize profusely for any one item that is out of place. Could it be that our desire for seclusion has something to do with our fear of imperfection? If we invite people in, will that shatter the illusion that my life is perfectly put together? In our current social-media age, we all live in an era of perceived perfection. Does that influence our desire to connect in real life?

I miss seeing people’s messy homes, where life is lived. Life is messy and loud, especially when you’re raising kids. I miss the intimacy of experiencing that with other people. In Alaska, you had no choice for your neighbors to see your messy truth. My sister-in-law, Sari, queen of casual hospitality and a lifetime Alaskan, would always invite me or other friends over to just sit and chat while she scrubbed her floor, did her dishes, or cleaned up after dinner. I miss the immediate intimacy of sharing not just in someone's time, but their actual life.

I finished up my slice feeling inspired by Jeremy’s desire to open his home, create a space for people to hang and still keep it casual and imperfect. Whether or not Jer knows it, he’s acting revolutionarily in our isolated world. And it made me ask the question, how can I join the open house revolution? Or maybe better named (in my case anyway), the Messy Revolution? Here's my house at this exact moment. There's dirt on my floors, backpacks strewn about, music equipment out, our halloween costume making supplies on the floor and what you can't see is my bowl of delicious Nutritional Yeast Popcorn and empty coffee mug next to me. But there's also a very happy boy (Coop, 10) on the couch and a badass girl (Bailey, 8) practicing her new electric guitar a little too loud at the top of the stairs. And I love my life. This is a good life.

I read this cool article last year about this idea of hosting crappy dinner parties that hit on this point a little too. http://www.thekitchn.com/5-rules-for-hosting-a-crappy-dinner-party-235815

Ooh, in case you were interested, here's that Nutritional Yeast Popcorn recipe:

4 cups air-popped Amish Midnight Blue popcorn (or your choice)

2 tbsp melted coconut oil

1 tbsp Nutritional Yeast

A dash of Trader Joe's Seasoned Salt

XOXO-

Jen Deale,

Boss Lady @ Camp Crush / SBP Smoothies / Bailey & Coop