Crayfish Boil
New Orleans, 2009

Walk quiet neighborhoods to arrive at a small couchsurfing sign at the gate leading to a courtyard
About 30 people are in back, ranging in ages and accessories

I’m learning that accessories differentiate us
Is it a thick tribal ear-ring in a stretched earlobe or a pea coat?
It is a tribal necklace or a delicate pearl?
Beneath all the accessories, we share the oneness

I play with my accessories, mix them so I’m even harder to read
Purple hairfalls with a pea coat, I stroll in

Dead crayfish are scattered on newspaper
Everyone gathered around them

A few potatoes and chunks of corn mix with the stinky crustaceans
I’ve heard of the amazing garlic but that must have been eaten immediately as I never stumble on a clove

“How do I eat one?” I am starved and can’t believe that I’m about to eat the critter that I taught about for years
A Chinese woman teaches me to break off the tale, pull out the meat and then suck the head
I first think I can also eat the head, but its soft
yellow mucus stops me, later I learn that it’s not edible, only suckable

I drift off to meet P, with his saw-toothed necklace and eyes that hold mine
He’s from Maidaira, a tiny island off Portugal
He tells me of a repetitive dream

“There were no highways at the time on my island.  But I would dream that it was night and I was running on an empty highway.  I knew I was home.  No cars passed me.  I would run until I would eventually get to a house with a woman standing in the window.  It was more like a silhouette of a woman.  

But each time I’d face her, I’d freeze.  I was not ready for her.  I could not go further and I’d wake in fear.”

Immediately I think of my repetitive dream of walking down a sidewalk in Europe, passing the same faces night after night, walking into a particular shop, and arriving at a building under construction with an operating elevator.  I’d get into the elevator and always panic.  I’d wake in fear.  One day, I rode the elevator into a lush garden with lion statues.  But each time, I’d wake in fear.”

Until one day, I found myself walking down that street in Edinburg, passing the faces as in my dream, walking into the same shop, and seeing the building under construction at a bit of a distance.  I had panicked in real life and ran away from that area of the city.  I would not have even found it had I not gotten lost.

He continues talking about his repetitive dream

“Now we have several highways on my island.  One night, my car broke down and I needed to get to a particular place.  I realized if I ran, I could get there quite quickly.  So I began to run down this highway.  It was empty.  No cars passed.  I became aware that it was just like the dream.  Then I saw the house.  I ran towards it.  In the window was the outline of a woman.  I froze.  I wasn’t ready for her.  I ran home.  I went there the next day, but the house had been leveled.”

He pauses in the story

We’re sitting outside on the edge of a sidewalk in warm sunlight

His long brown hair is thin and hangs off the edges of his face “It was not until later that a teacher helped me interpret the dream.  The woman represented the next shift in my spiritual path.  I would run to her, but then be afraid of what was beyond her.  I feel now like I’ve moved to beyond her.”

I too feel like I’ve gotten into my elevator
Walked past the lush garden with its lion sculptures
And am walking into whatever is next.

P’s pace is brutal
He shares one after the other
He tells me of meeting his female self on a plane recently
How she looked like him
How her name was the female version of his name, first and last
How they shared the world in common
He too is meeting his soul family

Then he talks about language, NLP
Using reprogramming to recreate our worlds
“Replace every but with an and.  It changes everything.”

I am tired so we exchange numbers
I hoop a bit with a young girl with thick tribal earings and braids
Chat about the meaningless
And I walk away alone back to the quarter.

We’re sitting outside on the edge of a sidewalk in the warm sunlight
His long brown hair is thin and hangs off the edges of his face
His accent is one I would not place.  I had not even known of his island existing

“It wasn’t until later that a teacher helped me interpret the dream.  The woman represented the next shift in my spiritual path.  I would run to her, but then be afraid of what was beyond her.  I feel now like I’ve moved to beyond her.” 

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