Where My Heart Lives
Louisiana.
I knew this place before I had ever been here. I dreamed it, imagined it, and longed for it. It had been my muse for blogs and tales; most of which I had never put to pen.
The first time here, I was sitting at the Rum House on Magazine Street. I was approached by an artist; a famous artist no one knows of. He stopped at my table and said of me, "You see a smile like that and it comes from a good soul." The then man of my life chased it with "She smiles like that when she's here." New Orleans. N'awlins. NOLA. I had come here alone and ahead of her wedding party because I knew the first meeting with me and this city needed to be private. We needed alone time. Just me and the City. Those days were some of the most personal spiritual days I have ever had with me.
I knew I'd be back. I hadn't been to Baton Rouge that first trip. I had seen N'awlins. I had sampled the bayous. It was one of the most magical places I had ever gotten my soul lost in. The music everywhere seemed to go right through my ears and into my bloodstream and bones. I suppose I was to be frightened of the VooDoo shops but I wasn't. I figured they were just mere plastic replicas of what this place kept hidden in the silt of the water and the moss of those incredibly beautiful trees. I had been to N'awlins but not the rest of what was waiting. I knew I'd be back. I'd let time decide when that would be.
Four years later, there was a storm known as the 'Unnamed Storm'. It flooded places that had never been under water and it swallowed 13 people. It was time. Time for me to return. I needed to be in that place that was more than the Hurricanes on Bourbon Street in brightly colored cups. I needed to be back and this time it would be for the rest of what was missing in me. I arrived in Baton Rouge and I stayed one day. From there I was sent to Lafayette and I thought "There is more than this too. There is something coming to me." I was finally getting to the beating heart of this place; the one that seemed to have me by an invisible umbilical cord.
I was asked to go to St Landry Parish to check on the shelter we had set up for those pushed out by the rising water. I ended up in Opelousas. I tripped, stumbled, and fell down over that pronunciation many times. I met the Mayor there. Mayor Reggie. I liked him not because he was the Mayor but because he liked Motown and he and I sang while we picked up case after case after case of drinking water and moved it around the Event Center there. The residents had nearly all gone back to what was a new normal for them and we stayed behind to throw water and sing songs from days gone and older than I am. I liked this Mayor Reggie. I still felt something pulling me though...
When I was asked to go into St Martin's Parish it was because we had thought that perhaps there were some ill feelings between the locals and our organization. I was sent in to help build a positive connection and make right whatever we had unintentionally done wrong. I was somewhat apprehensive. This wasn't my town. I was an outsider and I was about to walk into one of their holy places and try to connect. I was wearing my Buddha necklace with my sometimes slightly Baltimore accent and trying to make things right. Hell, I didn't even know what was wrong but I knew I needed to make it right. We all did. Three of us walked up to the door of the church on Hyacinth and Washington. We took a collective deep breath and prepared ourselves to be greeted in a way that was going to be uncomfortable.
It's difficult for me to even recount this without my eyes starting to tear. That hug. That hug from a woman I didn't know and hadn't met and that smile that was genuine and kind and real. She embraced me and thanked me for all we had done. There were no ill feelings here. To the contrary, we had made friends here and these friends were the heartbeat of Louisiana. They were what I felt connected to. I was in love instantly and I couldn't contain the smile on my face or the warmth in my heart. In that hug and in the bouncy happiness of the little girl who promptly told me her job was as 'Mascot' was exactly what I had felt before I ever got here. This little church and the people inside were exactly what I felt tied to before I had ever been here. I was starting to feel whole.
We spent less time than I wanted to there but we were returning the next day. Maybe the truth is, I didn't need to be one of the ones who were there for the delivery of clean up kits and water and bleach and snacks. I didn't need to be there before the truck even arrived; but I went anyway. I needed to be there because its where I wanted to be. I was so amazed by the folks that came in to help themselves and their neighbors. Their way of talking and loving each other and their willingness to let me be close enough to reach out and touch this realness made me feel like I was home in my heart. There were no race lines to dispute or 'overcome'. There was no 'us and them'. It was human to human and soul to soul. The ease of their speech and the beauty of their faces and the distance this seemed from the world outside made this exactly what I had searched for. I wanted to protect them and I wanted this place to never change.
As the days continued on, I found myself working alone. I drove for days from parish to parish giving information and assistance and arranging deliveries of needed supplies. As I drove I began to silently and deeply absorb what I saw around me. The water lines. The water lines on houses and trees and areas where land was still under water. The debris along the roads. I saw beds and sofas and clothing and toys. I saw everything that people had earned and gathered and treasured sitting on the roadside discarded and all I could think is how people outside the state lines aren't even aware. They don't remember this is even going on. They are watching these football players not stand for our anthem. They are seeing political morons argue and attack each other and I am watching more rain fall on grounds and sugar cane crops that have already reached their limit and overflowed.
It's September 11th. I think of what we were like on the 11th fifteen years ago. I remember how we vowed to stand together and care for each other. I remember black and white holding hands and hugging. Hugging. Like I was hugged in that church. Me being white and those amazing people were black. But none of us cared. We were humans loving other humans and as I drove today and I looked at the debris and the mattresses and the constant reminder by lines of waters now rescinding of the lives that were loss- I think of the foolishness and the pettiness and the lack of love and humanity and it brought me to tears today. What happened on September 11th brought us together but what happens today- every day- throws us apart to the point that we now pay more attention to how we can scream and attack each other over ridiculousness while loving, genuine people fight for a place to live and recover from this horrific 'Unnamed Storm'.
I needed to be here. For my soul- for my blood- for my creativity. I needed to be here and I needed to connect. I want to take the entire country and bring them into this church and let them be loved. I want us to go along the bayous and the levees and see why there are more important things going on than the fighting and hatred. We have lost our way. We have lost our understanding of each other. We need to get back to a place where not agreeing meant you simply did not agree and wouldn't end up being an internet hate fest.
Today, I drove along the levees and the fields of sugar cane. I looked at the bayous and I fell in love with the trees that extend branches down to the Earth with moss and softness. I spoke to people and I LISTENED to them. I breathed easier into the world and I inhaled a peace and tranquility that I needed to drink and cleanse my soul. I have been surrounded by people and yet have felt alone. Not alone in a lonely way but in a way of quiet and reflection. I am tied to this place. More so now than ever. I worked hard these two weeks but I did so like I was in the eye of the hurricane which still haunts this place of clarity for me. Louisiana is my soul laid out in beautiful voices, faces of humanity, and a taste all its own. I will long for this part of me for all my days. I will leave for now but my time here is not done. This is not the last time. I will be back again because this is where my heart lives.
.
I knew this place before I had ever been here. I dreamed it, imagined it, and longed for it. It had been my muse for blogs and tales; most of which I had never put to pen.
The first time here, I was sitting at the Rum House on Magazine Street. I was approached by an artist; a famous artist no one knows of. He stopped at my table and said of me, "You see a smile like that and it comes from a good soul." The then man of my life chased it with "She smiles like that when she's here." New Orleans. N'awlins. NOLA. I had come here alone and ahead of her wedding party because I knew the first meeting with me and this city needed to be private. We needed alone time. Just me and the City. Those days were some of the most personal spiritual days I have ever had with me.
I knew I'd be back. I hadn't been to Baton Rouge that first trip. I had seen N'awlins. I had sampled the bayous. It was one of the most magical places I had ever gotten my soul lost in. The music everywhere seemed to go right through my ears and into my bloodstream and bones. I suppose I was to be frightened of the VooDoo shops but I wasn't. I figured they were just mere plastic replicas of what this place kept hidden in the silt of the water and the moss of those incredibly beautiful trees. I had been to N'awlins but not the rest of what was waiting. I knew I'd be back. I'd let time decide when that would be.
Four years later, there was a storm known as the 'Unnamed Storm'. It flooded places that had never been under water and it swallowed 13 people. It was time. Time for me to return. I needed to be in that place that was more than the Hurricanes on Bourbon Street in brightly colored cups. I needed to be back and this time it would be for the rest of what was missing in me. I arrived in Baton Rouge and I stayed one day. From there I was sent to Lafayette and I thought "There is more than this too. There is something coming to me." I was finally getting to the beating heart of this place; the one that seemed to have me by an invisible umbilical cord.
I was asked to go to St Landry Parish to check on the shelter we had set up for those pushed out by the rising water. I ended up in Opelousas. I tripped, stumbled, and fell down over that pronunciation many times. I met the Mayor there. Mayor Reggie. I liked him not because he was the Mayor but because he liked Motown and he and I sang while we picked up case after case after case of drinking water and moved it around the Event Center there. The residents had nearly all gone back to what was a new normal for them and we stayed behind to throw water and sing songs from days gone and older than I am. I liked this Mayor Reggie. I still felt something pulling me though...
When I was asked to go into St Martin's Parish it was because we had thought that perhaps there were some ill feelings between the locals and our organization. I was sent in to help build a positive connection and make right whatever we had unintentionally done wrong. I was somewhat apprehensive. This wasn't my town. I was an outsider and I was about to walk into one of their holy places and try to connect. I was wearing my Buddha necklace with my sometimes slightly Baltimore accent and trying to make things right. Hell, I didn't even know what was wrong but I knew I needed to make it right. We all did. Three of us walked up to the door of the church on Hyacinth and Washington. We took a collective deep breath and prepared ourselves to be greeted in a way that was going to be uncomfortable.
It's difficult for me to even recount this without my eyes starting to tear. That hug. That hug from a woman I didn't know and hadn't met and that smile that was genuine and kind and real. She embraced me and thanked me for all we had done. There were no ill feelings here. To the contrary, we had made friends here and these friends were the heartbeat of Louisiana. They were what I felt connected to. I was in love instantly and I couldn't contain the smile on my face or the warmth in my heart. In that hug and in the bouncy happiness of the little girl who promptly told me her job was as 'Mascot' was exactly what I had felt before I ever got here. This little church and the people inside were exactly what I felt tied to before I had ever been here. I was starting to feel whole.
We spent less time than I wanted to there but we were returning the next day. Maybe the truth is, I didn't need to be one of the ones who were there for the delivery of clean up kits and water and bleach and snacks. I didn't need to be there before the truck even arrived; but I went anyway. I needed to be there because its where I wanted to be. I was so amazed by the folks that came in to help themselves and their neighbors. Their way of talking and loving each other and their willingness to let me be close enough to reach out and touch this realness made me feel like I was home in my heart. There were no race lines to dispute or 'overcome'. There was no 'us and them'. It was human to human and soul to soul. The ease of their speech and the beauty of their faces and the distance this seemed from the world outside made this exactly what I had searched for. I wanted to protect them and I wanted this place to never change.
As the days continued on, I found myself working alone. I drove for days from parish to parish giving information and assistance and arranging deliveries of needed supplies. As I drove I began to silently and deeply absorb what I saw around me. The water lines. The water lines on houses and trees and areas where land was still under water. The debris along the roads. I saw beds and sofas and clothing and toys. I saw everything that people had earned and gathered and treasured sitting on the roadside discarded and all I could think is how people outside the state lines aren't even aware. They don't remember this is even going on. They are watching these football players not stand for our anthem. They are seeing political morons argue and attack each other and I am watching more rain fall on grounds and sugar cane crops that have already reached their limit and overflowed.
It's September 11th. I think of what we were like on the 11th fifteen years ago. I remember how we vowed to stand together and care for each other. I remember black and white holding hands and hugging. Hugging. Like I was hugged in that church. Me being white and those amazing people were black. But none of us cared. We were humans loving other humans and as I drove today and I looked at the debris and the mattresses and the constant reminder by lines of waters now rescinding of the lives that were loss- I think of the foolishness and the pettiness and the lack of love and humanity and it brought me to tears today. What happened on September 11th brought us together but what happens today- every day- throws us apart to the point that we now pay more attention to how we can scream and attack each other over ridiculousness while loving, genuine people fight for a place to live and recover from this horrific 'Unnamed Storm'.
I needed to be here. For my soul- for my blood- for my creativity. I needed to be here and I needed to connect. I want to take the entire country and bring them into this church and let them be loved. I want us to go along the bayous and the levees and see why there are more important things going on than the fighting and hatred. We have lost our way. We have lost our understanding of each other. We need to get back to a place where not agreeing meant you simply did not agree and wouldn't end up being an internet hate fest.
Today, I drove along the levees and the fields of sugar cane. I looked at the bayous and I fell in love with the trees that extend branches down to the Earth with moss and softness. I spoke to people and I LISTENED to them. I breathed easier into the world and I inhaled a peace and tranquility that I needed to drink and cleanse my soul. I have been surrounded by people and yet have felt alone. Not alone in a lonely way but in a way of quiet and reflection. I am tied to this place. More so now than ever. I worked hard these two weeks but I did so like I was in the eye of the hurricane which still haunts this place of clarity for me. Louisiana is my soul laid out in beautiful voices, faces of humanity, and a taste all its own. I will long for this part of me for all my days. I will leave for now but my time here is not done. This is not the last time. I will be back again because this is where my heart lives.
.
Beyond beautiful.
ReplyDeleteCyndi, thanks for sharing, you are amazing!
ReplyDelete