What is Your Door Saying
Hanging on the front door of the Stitzel-Weller Distillery are five keys. These keys were once used each morning by the original property owners as they walked the grounds, unlocking the different facilities on the property. When they finished, they returned to the front door and hung the keys back up as a symbol of hospitality; a quiet signal that the place was open, and so were the people inside.
Pineapples are said to have a similar history. While I couldn’t find one legitimate historical reference to confirm it, countless blog posts repeat the same general idea: pineapples were once expensive and exotic, and placing one on your porch was a way of saying guests weren’t just welcome but were celebrated with the very best the host had to offer. Visual representations of openness have always been part of homes and businesses. Even a simple welcome mat lets people know they’re invited in (except at my house, where our mat reads: in this house we eat beans).
The keys on the door at Stitzel-Weller aren’t accidental. They’re intentional. They communicate something before a single word is spoken. It made me wonder: when people look at me, do they feel like I’m approachable? Do they feel welcome? Celebrated?
Take a moment to think about the image you’re presenting to the world. Are you inviting people and opportunities in, or is there an unintentional do not enter sign hanging somewhere you didn’t notice? I’m not here to tell you to change anything but rather just to notice it because if we aren’t being intentional, we may not realize the message we’re sending out, but it’s going out regardless.
I recently heard the quote, “What you aren’t changing, you’re choosing.” Often attributed to Laurie Buchanan, it reinforces the idea that when we aren’t intentional, we’re still sending a message - it's just not one we chose on purpose; if we aren’t being welcoming, then by default we’re choosing to shut people out.
If after reading this you decide you want to be more intentional with your message to the world, remember that we don’t necessarily need five keys on a door or a pineapple on the porch. Sometimes the smallest gesture - a softened tone, a returned text, a moment of eye contact - is its own kind of welcome. Those tiny signals, the ones we barely notice ourselves, often open more doors than we realize.
