A Seat at the Table
When I was little my dad used to take me and my sister to 84 Lumber. Back in the day before Lowes, Home Depot, and big box hardware stores were the norm, places like 84 Lumber met the needs of the DIY ilk and contractors alike.
I remember two things about Saturday morning trips to the hardware store. The first is the popcorn machine! Immediately inside the entrance, a cart with freshly popped, complimentary popcorn was stationed! The kernels were an unnatural yellow created only from artificial butter-salt topping. It was served in paper cones and had a distinct taste.
Mixed with the taste of popcorn and the feel of the paper cone in my hand is the smell of lumber. To this day the smell of lumber transports me back to the 84 Lumber outings with my dad and awakens all of those senses.
One of the beauties of building a cafe in this part of the world is the option to have many things custom-made. Often these craftsmen don’t have a workshop space to make things so they create and build on site, as is the case with some of our seating. I love opening the door each morning, to check on the progress, and being greeted with the scent of freshly cut wood. It is also a joy to see the three or four carpenters work on their craft to bring these pieces to life.
A word, a smell, a sound, or a taste can transport us in time in a flash. Our senses are the closest thing we have to time travel! It is my desire for this cafe to be a place where memories are made, where new stories are created and old, almost forgotten, stories are shared. Where the smell of baked goods and coffee become part of women’s fond memories they share with others.
I desire it also to be a place where women can bring their stories to the table. Where each woman knows and believes she has a place at the table, a place of honor! Where women can come as they are, in the fullness of their being, embodying all their stories. Learning to believe, at their core, their stories matter, their lives matter. Their stories are not boring, not too hard to hear, nor too shameful. They are their lived experiences and what has formed them as individuals. And may each woman be celebrated as an individual.
Healing happens as we can sit and attune to the particularities of our stories. There is a special power when this happens in safe communities. May this space be a place where women can come to learn about themselves, their own stories, and the stories of others. May they come to know that while their circumstances and details of the stories might differ, the core longings - purpose, belonging, worth, love, and being seen are human and transcend class, culture, religion, and gender. These are at the core of the human experience.
May Lamprini shine light on stories that make a person unique. May we celebrate how these stories have shaped us, may we grieve how they have harmed us, and may each woman feel bravely empowered to co-author her future. All from the comfort of hand-crafted wooden benches, chairs, and tables.
