creating charm

The other day, I was scrolling through my Instagram feed, and landed on a post from one of my long-time favourite writers, Victoria Smith, who had recently returned from a vacation in Italy. She lives in a beautiful area of California, but she was still lamenting what she was missing now that she’d returned. "I’ve been in such a weird headspace since returning from Italy, and it’s not just jet lag,” she wrote. “I think I’m suffering from a lack of charm."

Boy, did I feel this in my bones. There’s something about coming home to your day-to-day life from somewhere entirely different, and realizing the dearth of whatever it was that charmed you when you were so far away. I especially feel it now: while Houston is many things — friendly, yes; cosmopolitan and diverse, for sure — it’s not particularly charming. Of course, there are charming places in the United States, but I am not living in one of them. And man, do I love charm.

This is one of the reasons that Marcus and I often pick up a small trinket or piece of art whenever we travel — it’s a way to bring home a tiny bit of charm to remember where we’ve been. But lately, I’ve become intrigued by the customs that make places so charming. For example, I’m charmed by the English custom of making strangers a cup of tea to welcome them to your home (and to be clear, this is customary in many countries of the world, Trinidad included), so we make sure to do the same here in our home (although the fact that Marcus is English and I’m Trinidadian makes this a pretty natural thing to do). But my mother tells me that when she and my dad lived in Norway, it was customary to light a candle to welcome folks in, and I try to remember to do this myself because it’s so charming. There are other practices around the world that I love, but haven’t adopted: Ethiopian coffee ceremonies are wildly charming, as are Japanese tea ceremonies. I love the Hawaiian custom of greeting people with a lei.

But there are all sorts of other things you can do, just because: I have one friend who, if we sit on his patio, always burns a stick of incense. It’s just a lovely addition to the birdsong as we catch up with each other. My friend Laura always has a bottle of champagne in her home, because if people drop by, “at some point, the conversation will turn to something that we all realize we should celebrate.” And when my friend Katherine receives houseguests, she always has fresh flowers she gives away as a parting gift.

Charm is defined as “the power or quality of giving delight,” and goodness, we just don’t do that enough. Charm is one of the sweetest ways that we connect with each other. It’s a sweet way to show love.

So my wish for all of us this week: may we find some way to create some charm, for us and for the people around us.