Recently enough, a few months ago now, I read an article lamenting the fact that we seem to appreciate houses that look as if they aren’t lived in. Show pieces as opposed to chronicles of a life lived.  After reading this article (and I wish I could remember the author to credit them), I realized that sometimes I present my life as an empty house. I was especially guilty of this in my journal, where I did not talk about my friends nearly enough. I vowed: no more. My life is a house lived in. Messy, eclectic, and gorgeous.

Since then, I’ve found an amazing amount of people in my life that weren’t just contributing to the mess of my house; they were cluttering it.  I’ve been able to make decisions that have enabled me to clean up my house of life, and, in some cases, bring in more mess.  It’s been wonderful.

I truly realized how rewarding it’s been the past three nights.  I’ve spent these nights in the empty lot across the street, staring at the shining city below me, talking to two of the people that are part of the beautiful disarray.  I’ve been on both sides of the moral support system, giving and receiving with two amazing friends.  Hours of talking and of doing nothing but needing and being needed.  What more could I ask for?  This, the friendship that makes life a little inconvenient and scads richer, is bliss.

The last few months have been life changing.  Just taking the time to look at the people in my life has made me so glad that I do not live in a house that is show-room neat.  Where would all my friends fit?  Where would I fit?  Where would the struggles of every day life be solved, conquered, or stored for another day?  Nowhere.  And that is exactly where I would be without the people that make up this life that I love.

I encourage you all: take stock of your house.  Is it empty?  Is it full? Are you trying to fool yourself and/or other people into thinking that it is show-room neat?  If so, what a pity.  Invite some mess.  Embrace the chaos and hodgepodge that is around you.

Then: go answer the doorbell.  We’re waiting to be let in.