The Man In The Chevrolet Some Folks Toss Away Blessings Then Sit Around Wondering Why Life Feel Empty Author’s Opening Note Before yall read this reflection let me say something honest. Some lessons do not arrive wrapped pretty. They do not walk in wearing church shoes carrying a leather Bible and speaking soft like they know they holy. Nah. Some lessons pull up rattling down the street in an old Chevrolet sounding like somebody dropped a toolbox down a staircase. And somehow

Author’s Opening Note Before we get into this reflection let me tell yall something honest. This weekend I had one of them conversations that stay with you like New Orleans humidity in August. You know what I mean. Them conversations that follow you home, sit beside you on the porch, eat your leftovers, and somehow still got more to say before they leave. The kind that sit beside your spirit long after the words stop moving. Somebody called me over the weekend and somewhere d

Author’s Opening Note Before yall even step into this reflection, let me tell you something right now. Some folks gon read this title and clutch they invisible pearls so hard they might sprain a spiritual finger. Soon as they see the words wobble and wiggle together, they already loading judgment into the chamber like they the holy police commissioner of movement. Calm down Cheryl. Drink some water. Loosen your neck a little. Your blood pressure fighting for its life over som

The Flower Never Changed Everybody Ain’t Looking From The Same Window Author’s Opening Note Written by Kāteb Shunnar Before you even step inside this reflection let me go on and tell you something real. Some folks gon read this and immediately get defensive. Not because I am attacking them personally but because truth got a funny way of knocking over furniture inside people spirit. Truth walk in like that loud auntie at a family cookout. Ain’t even take her purse off before s

Felicity at Claiborne The Pot Was Never Meant for One Ingredient Written by Kāteb Shunnar Author’s Opening Note Alright now, before we get into this reflection, lemme gone head and say this first. Yeah. I know. I talk about New Orleans alot. At this point somebody probably sittin somewhere sayin, “Lawd, if Kāteb mention New Orleans one mo time we gon have ta put him on the city payroll and give him a brass band escort.” Man look. I can’t help it. I love this city. Not in that

When the River Almost Took Me but I Learned How to Float. A Reflection on Broken Places, Loud Voices, and the Quiet Voice That Still Said Stay Written by Kāteb Shunnar Author’s Opening Note Let me tell you something most people don’t sit with long enough to let it change them. In life, when everything start getting loud, and I mean that deep kind of loud, not just folks talking or cars passing, but the kind that sit in your chest and hum behind your thoughts, most of us don’t

The Quiet Strength That Raised Me What the Porch Taught Me That the World Still Ain’t Figured Out By Kāteb Shunnar Author’s Opening Note I’m gonna tell you straight, this one right here didn’t come easy. It came out in pieces. In pauses. In them quiet moments where I had to stop typing and just sit there, staring off like I was waiting on the walls to say something back. Because writing like this ain’t just writing. It’s remembering. And remembering… that ain’t always soft. S

Author’s Note: What you are about to read is stitched together from memory, spirit, humor, New Orleans air thick with gumbo steam, and the stubborn kind of truth you don’t learn until life finally gets tired of waiting and sits on your chest. Every word comes from a place of growth, bruising, prayer, and late-night front-porch revelations. Though the story is mine, I offer it to you the way Granny Celestine offered everything open-handed, long-winded, slightly aggravating, bu

Author’s Note Before you start reading, let me be real with you. This here ain’t some polished tale or a story cooked up when the world finally lined up right. Nah, this comes straight outta the thick of everyday life the mess, the noise, the steam rising from the streets and the kitchens, where folks keep moving and surviving and figuring it out as they go. From standing in the kitchen while things were still unfinished. From watching people I love carry more than they ever

Author Opening Note. Most folks do not know this but the Ace of Spades was once printed larger than every other card because card makers had to prove they were official and paid up. One card carried the weight of the whole deck. Funny how that works. One moment. One choice. One truth standing tall while everything else waits its turn. Life does that too. It singles out a moment and says show me who you are right here. Now before you step into this reflection let me speak plai

Author’s Opening Note Let’s sit down and talk for a minute, yeah? Really sit. Not the half-listening, phone-in-hand kind of sitting. I need you present mind, heart, the quiet spot in your chest that don’t get talked to much. We got some things to chew on, some things you might not want to hear, and some things that might just make you laugh when the world’s been too heavy. I ain’t here pretending I got it all figured out. Nah, I been stumbling, watching, learning from momen

The Mirror Don’t Blink A Story About What Follows You When Nobody Else Does By Kāteb Shunnar Author’s Opening Note Let me say this now before we get too deep in it, before you get comfortable, before you lean back thinking this just another piece you can nod your head to and keep it moving. This one might sit a little different on you. Not because I am trying to scare you. Not because I am trying to preach at you like somebody auntie after two glasses of sweet red wine and a

Author’s Opening Note Let me go on and say this before we even step into this thing together. Some of yall not gonna like what you about to read. And that is alright. I did not write this to make you comfortable. I wrote this because something in my spirit would not let me sit quiet and sip sweet tea like everything out here moving right. It is not. And deep down you already know that. See, we real good at pointing fingers. Real good. Olympic level with it. We can find fault

Author’s Opening Note Here’s something most folks don’t know, and if they do, they don’t sit with it long enough to let it sting a little. Fish don’t leave the tank because the water gets dirty. They suffer in silence until somebody with sense decides to clean it. Now ain’t that something. A whole life floating in mess, not because the tank is broken, but because nobody stopped long enough to do the work. Now let me go on and say this before you get comfortable and start poin

Author’s Opening Note Here is a little fact most people do not know about dancing. When a person dances, the brain releases chemicals that can calm fear, lower pain, and increase feelings of connection with other human beings. Scientists got fancy names for them chemicals, but around New Orleans we just call it “catching that beat.” "Ya heard me" When the rhythm hits your bones and your shoulders start rolling before your mind even agrees, that is not just movement. That is

Author’s Opening Note Here is something most folks do not realize about dreaming. Your mind can build a whole world while your body is laid out flat in a bed somewhere minding its business. In a dream you can walk miles, talk to people you never met, smell things that do not exist, and wake up wondering if your spirit went on a small trip while your body stayed home. Now scientists will explain dreams with long words and diagrams. They will talk about the brain sorting memori

Author’s Opening Note Before we wander too far into this story, let me say something plain so nobody feels misled halfway through. Some stories behave themselves. They walk in quiet, sit proper, and wait politely for somebody to turn the page. They keep their voice respectful. Mind their manners. This story is not one of those. No, this one strolls in smelling like fried catfish grease and wood smoke. Got a little Delta dust on its boots. Somewhere in its chest a lonely h

Author’s Opening Note Here is something most people do not know about New Orleans Voodoo. For generations, many practitioners baptized their children in Catholic churches on Sunday morning and honored the Iwa in their homes that same evening without seeing a contradiction. They did not separate the sacred into neat little boxes. They understood that spirit is too wide for fences. That alone unsettles people who like their beliefs color coded and labeled for convenience. New O

Author’s Opening Note Here is something most people do not realize about their own body. Your blood is salty. Not poetic salty. Not metaphorical salty. Chemically salty. The sodium moving through your veins is what allows your nerves to fire, your muscles to tighten, your heart to keep rhythm instead of stuttering off beat like a trumpet player who forgot the tune. Even your tears carry salt. Even the sweat that rolls down your neck in Louisiana heat leaves that faint white t

Authors Opening Words