I have been blessed to never miss a moment with anyone who has ever entered my house. And it’s all because of my open-concept kitchen.
Unlike older houses with separate kitchens that stifle visibility, movement, and emotional flow, my open-concept kitchen allows the free sharing of information and ideas. My kitchen is salon and stage, a first date, a party. It’s an open book, and I am both author and reader. In my open-concept kitchen, I am omnipotent. My ubiquity is law. In this kitchen, I am queen, of not just the kitchen, but the entire first floor.
In my open-concept kitchen, I can see what my kids are doing from across the room. I can tell what my husband is reading. Through our open-concept kitchen window, I can watch my neighbors watching me through their kitchen window.
And I can see into souls.
It’s not just about sitting at my kitchen island with a glass of wine and speaking freely and easily with someone who is in the garage. That happens, to be sure. But it’s more than that. When you’re in my home, I can see you, feel you. You and I are one. I can practically sense the red blood cells moving through your capillaries. I can read your mind and feel your emotions. My kitchen is that open.
Some people value the concept of privacy. But privacy is like a good horse. It’s nice, sure, but it’s outdated. In our modern social media-driven culture, transparency is truth, and truth is life. If privacy is a horse, then transparency is like a Model S Tesla: modern, beautiful, electric. That’s what you want in a kitchen.
Now I’m in the process of making our bathroom an open-concept bathroom. Because there are things going on when I’m in there and I need to know what they are. I need to know all of it. I have that in the kitchen. And once you get a taste of that freedom, you won’t settle for less.
Right now I know that my husband is reading a boat catalogue, my son is staring at the individual threads in the carpet, and my friend Gretchen, who is here right now, has post-nasal drip. I can hear the squirrels scurrying about outside, gathering last-minute acorns. Through my open-concept kitchen, I know god.
Come over and eat a banana at my bar-height counter, and I shall know you, too.
