The Mini-Sabbatical: Carving 3 Hours Away from My World – Part II

In each of us dwells a wanderer, a gypsy, a pilgrim. On the second day of my mini-sabbatical – three hours carved out of a regular Thursday – I set out once again to do a pilgrim’s job of  exploring a new land.

In order to have this time out of a work day, I was the first to arrive in the Marriott’s 19 Floor Club for breakfast. I sat in the corner with a great, free Wi-Fi connection to accomplish three of my five work tasks for the day.

Instead of setting out for three hours in the late afternoon, as I did in yesterday’s pilgrimage, I’m exploring from 11AM-2PM. Once again, I’ll follow the rules I’ve made for myself:

1. I am totally electronically disconnected.
2. No talking. I focus my energy on observation.
3. I am alone. I’ll meet my husband for a late lunch.

The entire three hours is spent on Royal Street in the French Quarter in New Orleans.  Here are my discoveries that emerged from my determination to see deeply, hear attentively and absorb with my heart and soul:

• While my work world puts me in touch with talented, smart people, I just might trade them all to work with any one of the groups of people streaming out music, vocals and entertainment. Call it genius, aptitude, forte, or endowment, but every two to three blocks on Royal Street produces a small cadre of mostly young people who completely rock. From Dixieland to tunes of the 1940s, the music isn’t just okay or very good. It’s fantastic. Teamwork is visible as each band showcases every individual.
• And talk about branding! While tap dancers twirl on small wooden planks in front of some of the bands; another had a young couple who do the jitterbug like something I’ve never seen.  Then there’s the vocalist who stands and delivers after she has soloed on a clarinet and a saxophone. Each group tries to deliver a little something different.
• Above the obvious talent and competitive air, I observe happiness in these street performers. The air is cool with a strong breeze, the sky is blue, and here are people who – for now – seem to be where they want to be, doing what they want to do. I wonder: What are the dreams they have for themselves? Where will they find themselves in 10 years?
• The street talent isn’t the only thing competing for my awareness. Look up and the window boxes are full with flowers and greens unknown to me (and I’m pretty good with my pots at home). They are astounding. In the evenings, water pours from these second and third story arrangements – dedication and attention to beauty.
• The sleeping man in the doorway still clutches a bottle of vodka. Everyone walks by, but we all sneak a glance as we pass. Did his life take a turn because of one bad decision? He looks like a nice person.

Close to the main drag of Canal, Royal Street bustles for blocks before it all peters out to become a more or less regular pedestrian street.

Part of the pilgrim’s journey is to learn about one’s self as he or she observes the encounters of a new world or experience.  So in the quiet of the last few blocks, I wonder:

When I was the age of that tap-dancer, what were my dreams?

Where have they gone?  Do I need to revive them or start dreaming anew?

Once again at the end of three hours, I am renewed. For this short while, I entered a world very different than the life I live. The experience asks me to consider important questions – not answer them. Not now anyway. That’s work to be done a later time.