New Orleans

Just realized something about New Orleans . . . it's an incredibly mesmerizing area . . . suggesting pleasures which as of yet have no name and are simply waiting out there, beckoning us to indulge, to relax, lanquidly float toward nirvana. It is as if perception switches from one viewpoint, which may include poverty or violence, to another, arising from needs and desires. A rewriting of the script. And this happens over and over, within a few days, or a week, or immediately if one is receptive. It is difficult or impossible to distinguish between the two, if indeed you’d even want to do so.

It’s as if the entire place is a pipe dream. It doesn’t even matter. After being in New Orleans, there’s a siren song forever in the heart and soul which never will die. A taste, a scent, a few wistful bars of music . . . remembering breezes which truly feel soft to the skin, swaying palms, meticulously restored ancient architecture, muted clinking of flatware and dishes surrounded by scents of food too delicious to describe, sounds of flowing water, the call of a bird. It comes back, beckoning, rolling forth and surrounding the senses, creating longing.

Go, move with the flow without considering change. Accept with grace that deep yearning for comfort. Balmy air, sweet scents, fresh food, music, soft rain on the porch steps. Know these are cherished notions. . . treasure can only be experienced, not possessed. Being present within a gorgeous creation, in quiet enjoyment. That's the truth of it all. It won't stay, and indeed, what makes us imagine we'd want it to? No hanging it on a wall, packing it into luggage, locking it into a room to be admired for centuries. It becomes part and parcel of a brilliant, colorful, intricate life tapestry. New Orleans . . . a sublime gift for the soul.