I used to float, now I just fall down
I used to know but I’m not sure now
What I was made for
What was I made for?

You know, when I first watched Barbie and saw the context this song is played in, and heard this song in general, of course I couldn’t take it at face value. I try not to take anything at face value. So I genuinely asked myself, what was I made for?

The truth is I’m not sure we’re made for anything, and I think that’s the sort of pessimistic part of me. The part that wants to say the world is stupid and it’s all for nothing.

That part of me wouldn’t be the true me though.

The true me says, we are all made for something. That’s not to say whatever craft we choose in life is the end all be all of what we’re supposed to do in our short time here. I do believe because we have such a short time here, and none of that time is guaranteed, we should pick something we really fucking love.

So, What was I made for?

Unreasonable Hospitality.

I can’t fucking believe I am fortunate enough to live in a time where an artist like Billie Eilish puts out a beautiful song that makes me think about my purpose, and even more, Will Guidara puts out a book called “unreasonable hospitality” to help me realize exactly what my purpose is.

Last night I was talking with a friend about the whole agoraphobia shit I’ve been going through. They said they couldn’t believe that my family really approaches the topic like it’s a choice for me, not because I’m not someone who loves being in the house, I am. But because in their words, I love what I do more than anyone they’ve ever met, so to be in a position where I don’t get to do that thing couldn’t possibly be a choice.

It was probably the kindest thing anyone has ever said to me. For a moment I felt seen, and I felt heard. I think most of the people in my life don’t give a bollocks about hospitality, or restaurants, Michelin stars, etc, etc. So when I talk about it with most people the conversation fizzles quickly, they don’t get to see the true way that it sets me on fucking fire. Which is both unfortunate and unfair. I deserve to be heard, I deserve to be able to talk with huge enthusiasm about how grateful I am to have found something I love to do. Most people don’t root for you in that situation because they hate what they do, or because they took the safe route instead of taking a chance on whatever really sets them on fire.

I’ll never take the safe route, I’ll always go for it in what I want to do. I want to open a restaurant some day, a small intimate, moody space with really good food, great wine, technically perfect service, and most importantly, unreasonable hospitality. I want to own a place that makes each guest feel seen and heard, even if only for the duration of their dining experience.

This is what I was made for, restaurants, taking care of people, bringing people together. Nothing brings me more joy than cooking for people, making drinks for people, pouring a wine I know something about for people. It makes me feel connected. A type of connection that I’ve never found anywhere else, it makes me feel like I belong.

This moment of realization has been both so amazing, and so disappointing. It’s so amazing to really pause for a moment and see how much you love everything about what you do. It’s so disappointing to realize the people around you don’t care to hear about it, don’t care how much you really enjoy this thing, how this thing puts you on top of the world when you do it. Even when you’re at your lowest, feeling down, feeling out, ready to give up, ready to end it all, this thing that you’ve spend 10 years of your life doing, some days it’s the only thing keeping you here, and the people around you don’t want to hear about it.

I could go on and on about hospitality and why I love it, but like most people in my life, I’m sure none of you give a shit.

If you don’t want to talk about hospitality or give a shit about how I feel about it, at least do me a favor.

Think about what you think you were made for.. sit with it, feel it for a while. If you’re comfortable enough, I’d love to hear what you’re made for.

Where the skies are gold not gray,

J.