At the gate....

I stand motionless...trapped in time between where I am, and where I want to be. As my tired hands clench the black iron spindles of the gate before me, the cold hollow bars mirror the restless and deceptively barren nature of my heart. Compelled without consideration for the immediate consequences of being here, my heart remains strong but unbalanced in its quest for fulfillment. Peering past the gate, scenes of dismay, sadness, and frustration crowd the stage and leave me questioning the essential rationale for my own arrival at this place. I remain. I recount the short lived joys just days before of seeing her stand before me, smiling and believing completely in this, in love itself, sanctioned or not by others who would certainly dismiss these emotions as folly and trivial reprieves from the reality of our present walk. As the dark clouds pass ominously overhead, they echo the ever changing present emotions of my soul...The stability of this moment continues to unnervingly vacillate between contentment, even joy, and then equally sorrow and regret.

As she emerges from the darkness and approaches the gate, my heart races with the immediacy of her presence, but protective of her intentions and the strings to my soul that lie exposed on the ground before us both. I am completely cognizant that she can see my vulnerability, but I continue to stand firm and confident in my stance, unwavering.....rooted deeply in my conviction, my essence and faith in this love. She mutters a few words about her day, and I can tell this journey has already sapped more out of her walk than expected. She turns to me with apparent sadness and simply says, "I am unsettled.....majorly unsettled......" My mind races to recount every recent statement, sentiment, even unstated thought that has flowed between our collective souls, and like a super computer scanning every available global database at its disposal, I return with no records, no files, no memories to justify nor validate her commentary.

Chalking it up to innocent but overwhelming stress of her path, I don't allow my mind to accept culpability for its presence, but secretly I wonder if perhaps the reality of her expectations in who I am now standing before her, have begun to alter her desire to be completely present. Perhaps, I am not worthy of her, of this, perhaps I was truly better off as a memory. It pains every last rivet of my mortal shell, but I knew the potential in what showing up here could produce long before I arrived. I turn my head briefly to avoid her viewing my fragility and as the tears cascade down my face, I know my attempts to hide the essential gravity of the moment are completely unavailing.

Knowing our own collective sensitivity and depth of exposure in this, she cannot help but start to cry outwardly, mimicking in unison, the feelings of true love gone lost for so long. I know inwardly it is easier to discount love and its promises, than stand boldly as it attempts to unravel, uproot and remold every last corner of your life for its own altruistic purpose. I touch her hand now balancing her weakened frame against the iron gate carved out between us. "Go, enjoy your evening. Get some rest, try to relax....." , I proclaim quite unemotionally. Selfishly...I want her to stay, knowing I would
stand here at her side forever, but also painfully aware this sanctity is fleeting and her journey is indeed overwhelming. As my fingers lift from their embrace of her delicately warm hands, I know that being here is the ultimate sacrifice.....the ultimate display of faith for us both. For we both are supremely certain it would easier to turn away from this, than ever having the perserverance of seeing it through. Uncertain of the future, I start wondering, pondering in silence what my purpose here truly is. As she turns away from then gate, I record every second of her departure as the waves of my soul churn....wanting so much for her to stay here with me every moment and everyday......but knowing that is not the reality of this conversation, at least today.

I promise to keep returning here...to this gate. For to feel her, even in these minute moments of fleeting joy, surpasses all alternatives. She is worth all of my sacrifice, as she is and has always been my
everything. There is actually no sacrifice in true love, only the innate, unselfish desire to be complete in this painful, burdening and relentless life....

"You will not be unsettled forever......I love you...." , I whisper to the wind before departing...

Garden of Hope.

Scanning the dew-covered grass laid out like carpet before me, I ponder what mysteries this day will uncover. I can no longer bear to live without hearing her voice, her words or feeling her soul move mine in some type of symbiotic Gregorian accord. Dismissed as chance or folly by some I am certain, my fervor in this doesn't disappoint, but rather enhances my existence...renewing my soul.

Walking along the water's edge of the placid pond just overstepping the reach of the sod, I try to imagine myself holding her hand and feeling her heart, albeit more tangibly than just words this time, but I know for now, this is but a desire. Shunning reality again out of sight like an unwelcome guest to this glorious celebration, I choose to allow my mind to relapse to more meaningful memories. After all, it is all I have left in this at this juncture. Memories, sacred memories that are as lucid today as when they were imprinted nineteen years ago... Just like my love for this moment, they have proudly withstood the abuse of time with an uncommon ease.

How did I stand to go for nearly two decades without a muttering, a sign nor a single word of this perpetration on my soul, but now, I long each day for one of those simple gifts. As routine as looking for the sun at dawn, I seek out her soul. Like a hummingbird who has finally discovered a colorful new patch of Verbena hidden in the desolate landscape, I return each day for my renewal and my spiritual feeding. I also long to continue planting the flowers as much as I enjoy taking from their harvest. For it is when we give, we are so truly blessed in our offerings.

For now, I will continue to believe in the sanctity of this moment, this adventure that validates the very sinew of my soul. The essence of love itself and its eternal opportunistic gift. I know not what tomorrow holds, nor if these flowers will ever cease their consistent bloom, but I know I will keep returning....longing for their embrace, their nourishment, their presence in my life. Likewise, I will keep planting, keep believing that this garden of unconditional love, support and solace will lead to a future rich in promises for what lies ahead.....

As I turn away, I pause to allow the sharp wind to glide across my face...I never want to leave, however I am not certain of my place. Looking down and across the fields extending from this garden, I see heavily worn trails and various footprints... I now realize that neither one of us ever truly left this place....we only arrived at different times without speaking.

I smiled...
Until we meet again, I will continue to carry your smile on my soul.
Faith and Smiles always.

Selfishly Unsettled...

Her words rang through my mind like a morning alarm clock without the luxury of a snooze button anywhere in sight.

"I am selfish for wanting this... for stepping out of bounds, for creating turmoil in your life....", she proclaimed boldly with obvious regret and discouragement in her voice. The position I was now placed in emotionally was neither envious nor redeemable to even the slightest degree. How could I quantify her remarks into something that would even begin to rationalize my feelings? My soul dropped with her pleadings of sacrifice and dismay like a child being admonished for lying about their favorite flavor of ice cream. It wasn't fair. Not here and not now are you going to interject reason into this love story. My heart raced and without careful pretense I responded, "Selfish? Are you selfish for wanting to be happy... to be loved by someone who has always cherished you? To have meaningful conversation in your life?.."

Pausing sharply, I knew I had probably said too much. Her reaction to my words was immediate and unrehearsed. I had overloaded the circuits of disciplined routine and crossed the proverbial line of emotional stability. As she walked away in obvious grief, I could hear her quietly sobbing to herself, "I am so confused......Why does something so right have to happen now?" I knew aligning her true feelings with the reality of what was present was a risky juxtaposition, that I didn't foresee. Before my words were released to the air shared between our souls, it was over. Apologies for what had transpired between us were the only remaining participants left to play out the performances on this tired stage.

As the mortar of my essence began to crumble, I held onto the promise of what this truly had become. This was more than just romantizing about the past, more than reliving something good in midst of the routine of marriage. This was truly that elusive second chance in life...to reconnect, rediscover and reinvent your life with your one true love. One last opportunity to play out that hand that was stripped away so unmercifully two decades prior, so unjustly. We both knew that this moment wouldn't be without tremendous cost. The obvious challenge remained. Who would be willing and able to burden the expense to reap the reward of its harvest.

Did either of us trust in the power of love to that extent any longer? Did we truly believe in this?

I knew the return of her presence in my life would be as much about my own pruning as it would ever be about my prosperity. I tried to look away, partly to hide my own tears. I knew that this was all too much to shoulder and perhaps losing her a second time would indeed become the darkest finality of sorrow in this lifetime. I pleaded outwardly, "Don't walk. Don't rationalize this away...." ---- I had just exposed my own desperation. I was naked, alone & vulnerable. However, I was at peace with this moment of humility with her, as she had already seen my truest self and loved me anyhow.

I was torn. As much as love prepares you for its bounties of richness and beauty, it also requires nothing less than every bit of nerve, sinew and sacrifice that is contained within your soul....I knew this, but I was still not prepared for the moment playing out before me. Gazing over to my love now sitting on the grass in a solemn but gentle peace, I wondered what she was thinking. I gazed inwardly at my own soul and pondered, "Was I ever worth any of this to anyone? How could I be worth so much to her now?"... These discounted thoughts of self-value entered my mind, as tears carved out transparent rivers of sadness onto the ground below me.

Without warning, she lifted her head and gazed at me. Piercing my soul, I felt her eyes telling me she was still here.

She was still in this with me now, ready to believe in this dream --- as least as far as it would ever take us both. Bracing the forces of fear, resentment and rejection, I walked to her. I took her hand and we both smiled.

We had passed the first test of true love returning...

How we would fair in the next arena of battle was yet unknown...

Rain in the well.

This well has been dry for quite some time. As I gazed inwardly I felt my heart move slightly with the notion that my barren soil, just received a drop of rain. This cannot be happening... This land was forsaken, sold to bidders who didn't cherish its existence, its heartbeat long since departed from its tired, arid veins. I cannot shake the moments that have brought me back full circle to the technicolor reality of the past. The most meaningful and moving corners of my entire life archive were now being summoned to the present. Within the walls of its deceit, I felt displaced in time to a place where my life's course changed so drastically...so abruptly, so unwillingly, so permanently? Rekindling these memories, I feel as if an old 8mm reel camera springs to life... its wheels still vibrant and obedient, but what scenes will be left on the tape to play and who will be watching this performance? More importantly, how will it end? Can I handle another failed repeat performance of this act that just kept spinning without end in my soul for the last 20 years?


Living torn, knowing that I cannot change the past, I sit contemplatively trying to understand the moments that define my recent days... If I stay here at this well, will the rains continue or is this just a sick, hallowed oasis in my own mind trying to deceive my last bit of sanity? Hold the tape. Not this memory, not the most cherished set of recollections I have ever known...I know the risk in placing these reels on the projector of my life, but like the proverbial moth, I cannot ignore this flame either. I just cannot look away. Perhaps, I secretly believe in the omnipotent power of love and the beauty & calmness that still resides in this place.


Perhaps, I am just mad...


Perhaps there is one more performance left...


Perhaps we better be careful. This slope is mighty slippery.


Give me your hand...


...................................................................................................................


It is just a walk, it is just me...

Moment.

Driving without intention nor destination, my mind continued to race. Cycling through the myriad of memories presenting themselves upon the stage of my frontal lobe, as if someone tossed a hundred Polaroids into the air without care, I was captivated in the moment. I hadn't heard her voice in nearly two decades and the now the veil of silence had been lifted, albeit for a moment. I felt instinctively that my sight had been restored in some discounted way that I cannot explain. Cherishing the purity of the moment, and not the quantitative value of the experience, I smiled.

There are no ordinary moments, I pondered to myself.


I feel that my life is reaching a crossroad, and while I am not certain to what degree my path will be altered, it is still the journey that matters. My heart has not been whole in quite some time, but I have no one else to blame at this juncture. I never envisioned that I would ever be complete, not in this lifetime with the decisions I had already made. I never believed that I was ever truly understood and valuing the richness of your own worth, must came from within before the patronization can ever truly matter, if it ever should at all.


The future doesn't matter, as I have no definitive plans ---

Every second and every word. That is all I remember.

Cheers.

Saints - Declaring War on New Orleans?

Resolve and the perils of declaring war on the city of New Orleans.

My ancestors first arrived in the port of New Orleans in the late 1700s. The earliest one on record was Victor David from Bordeaux, France whom at age 16 founded his own mercantile hardware store in what would be considered Jackson Square and in spite of the many challenges of the day, managed to excel in his trade. The Victor David house still stands as a historic moniker, a testament to his ingenuity & ambition, next to Le Petit Theater and just a stone toss from the nearby St. Louis Cathedral.

 On the other side of town, in Bayou St. John, my grandfather thrice times removed, Christoval Morel, was an established attorney of the day and taught sword fighting in what is known now as the bloody oaks of City Park. He was what you might consider a refined scallywag, a true swashbuckler shrouded in linen suits, and in actuality was the legal counsel for pirate Jean Lafitte himself, the most gloriously renowned adventurer ever to grace our Cajun coast.

 To say that adventure, mystique and penchant desire for rebellion is in my blood would be an understatement.
It was indeed known that the King of France presented the Fleur de Lis to the Morel family in their home in Bayou St. John and this symbol, this icon talisman, would later become our own personal seal of identity not only for ourselves, as New Orleanians, but also bestowed upon our professional football franchise, established in 1967.

 Hurricane Katrina did not define who we were, it merely exposed our tenacity and our resolve to the world on a public scale. People of New Orleans are some of the most feverishly proud, deeply spirited & most resolute citizens of this planet. This culture is not for the faint of heart. It is bold, spicy and untamed - deeply rooted in its own twisted past of lore spanning a myriad of races, ethnicities & styles, but it is all New Orleans. Carrying a bite equal to its jazzy bark if shown disrespect to its intention, or its people. Its soft-underbelly is merely the gentile nature of its inhabitants. We would rather respectfully nod and share a drink than quarrel, but if your aim is to battle, we don't back down either.

 Fast-forward to 2012. The Saints. Some might consider the recent decision of the commissioner to punish our franchise, its head coach, players & management to be a coup de grâce to our 2012 football season. A heavy-handed way to extinguish any chance for a Superbowl victory at Home in the Dome. I believe this action just may grow to become larger than the aforementioned tragedies of Katrina, igniting the passions of the feverishly loyal, insanely proud & notoriously underestimated city and its hallowed gridiron gods.

This, my friends is our time for a WHO DAT NATION battle cry of epic proportions. This is US versus the world, not just mother nature, FEMA nor City Hall. Not just the 9th Ward, Garden District, Lakeview nor Marrero, this is all of us united. The entire nation of NFL rivals including the executives of this very sport have declared war on our team for transgressions of our recent past. Punishment should fit the crime and the allegations are indeed heinous, but our collective past never should have justified this level of damnation. This was personal, and we all know it. Roger Goodell could have cancelled Mardi Gras and received less incensement from the people of New Orleans.

If history of living as a true New Orleanian has taught us anything, it is that we always recover, we always get back up to fight another day. We have a deeper layer of grit, pride and determination than most and this is going to be unleashed in the upcoming 2012 football season on our opponents. Bounties? Nothing new for people descending from blood lines of pirates. Declaring War on our Saints? A epic showdown of rebellion and pride from a city more united than ever.

Goodell should have been more careful in his methods. You simply don't declare war on the people of New Orleans and expect us to surrender in peace. Blue tarps or not, our foundation has been shaken once again. Now "Let's make it Right" WhoDat Nation. Let's bring home the ultimate bounty in the Dome on February 3, 2013.


See you back on the ship.... Section 638.

Gaining Ground

You know sometimes when you travel, you think about the long road ahead, the inherent frustrations of the journey itself, and this makes you question the significance of the entire process. Most of the time, I admit, I feel remotely pessimistic about my own path and where this caravan of life is taking me.

Alas, there is a breaking point for me so far in 2012. I feel calmer, perhaps due to the fact that I am chronologically getting older, and just perhaps a tad bit wiser, but outside of those two imponderables, I finally feel that I am gaining ground in my walk. I sense the purpose of my step, perhaps the mortality in my veins in a more lucid light, but I am truly shedding my skin this year and it feels cathartic & hopeful.

Perhaps, my butterfly will finally emerge victoriously from this tired, aged & nearly broken chrysalis that has been my life for the last 20 years or so. I have to find a way to unleash my true purpose herein and cease my idling and I believe in earnest this is the year of that rebirth.

I cannot vividly recall a moment in time that felt so aligned with my own vision of my walk and my soul so prepared to be unmasked. Truth be known, I have felt shrouded from the light, content to survive inconspicuously in the darkness, never realizing that for true growth to occur, you need both sides of the proverbial coin ---- the yin and yang of life and the elements of God need to shower & nourish equally. Water without sunlight will not yield a good harvest.

Too long I have remained in the darkness, meditating, believing and seeking its truth, but now I need to allow God to enrich the fertile ground of my life in His glorious light, the light that needs no shadow, no shade & no allowance for abdicating my fears. It is time to position myself towards the greatness that God has intended.

Feeling a comforting warmth in my soul, I know this year will be uniquely special and if it is the end of all time, then so be it likewise, my Mayan friends.... at least, I will go out with a glorious bang of enthusiasm and contentment in my soul. I don't fear dying at this juncture, only not truly living.....

Cheers,
Andy