It started with, “Hey, let’s barbecue.”

Sometimes I think the sweetest part of gathering people is seeing what everyone brings to it. Recently, we had some friends over for a very impromptu barbecue. We just decided, “Hey, let’s barbecue,” and then we did it.

We started with food and an invitation. By the end of the evening, there had been singing, dancing, our own version of karaoke, dress-up, basketball, and time for the grown-ups to enjoy one another. Everybody found a way to be part of it. And I find that really, really sweet.

Come over. We’re cooking.

I love gathering people. Easter egg hunts, brunches, dinners, supper clubs—I’m into all of it. Give me a reason to bring people together, and I’m usually ready. But I have a soft spot for the invitation that happens almost as soon as the idea does. We’re going to cook. We’d love some company. Come over.

This time, we had smoked wings, burgers, and sausage with buns. I put out the basic hamburger toppings, made some baked beans, and did stuffed jalapeños wrapped in bacon on the grill. It all came out delicious.

We sang. We danced. We did our own version of karaoke. The little girls played dress-up, the boys played basketball, and the parents enjoyed being able to have some adult time in a safe space. The kids had something they were happy doing, and we got to enjoy one another.

I’m usually so into whatever is happening that I forget to take pictures. That was the case this time, too. I would love to have more photographs of these gatherings, but in the moment, I’m busy enjoying the people who came. So you’ll have to take my word for it: it was sweet.

“We decided to cook, but everyone helped make it a gathering.”

An ordinary day is reason enough.

There’s something lovely about sharing an ordinary day with friends. A barbecue can be the whole reason. You don’t always need a birthday, a holiday, or a date you’ve had circled on the calendar for weeks. Sometimes you can just decide you’d like to see your people and ask. “Hey, we’re going to barbecue. Want to come over?”

Make something you feel comfortable making. Leave yourself room to enjoy whoever says yes. And leave a little room for the evening to become whatever it becomes when those particular people get together. We decided to cook, but everyone helped make it a gathering.

A little something for the pot.

Thinking about that barbecue made me think of Stone Soup. In the story, the villagers each bring something to add to the pot. Somebody brings potatoes, somebody brings carrots, somebody brings something else. Together, they make a meal to share. There’s something really sweet about that to me. Everybody has something they can contribute, and all those contributions become something good for everyone.

At our barbecue, we weren’t all adding ingredients to the same pot. But people brought their company, their playfulness, their willingness to sing and dance and spend time together. That was part of what made the evening good. And the more I think about it, the more that feels like what I want to grow here at Le Fleurish Collective.

I love gathering people. I love growing things, sharing food, and seeing where my curiosity takes me. Those are some of the things I can bring to the pot. You’ll have your own.

Maybe you have a recipe we’ve never tried. Maybe you know how to grow something, make something, or bring people together in a way I haven’t thought of. Maybe you’re the person who gets everybody singing. I want to leave room for what you bring, too.

“I want to leave room for what you bring, too.”

I started LFC to bring more joy, meaning, and possibility into my own life, and to share what I discover along the way. As I imagine what this collective can become, I keep coming back to that pot of soup. I can get something started, and we can discover what it becomes as other people add a little of themselves.

That’s my invitation to anyone who wants to come along on this journey: let’s all put a little something into the pot and make something really good for everyone. We can start with, “Hey, let’s barbecue.”