From Now On; I Feel Alive.

I don’t know what world we live in currently. It's a world of uncertainty, and fear, and it seems like no matter what I do; I just feel stuck. When I left home to move to New York City I made a vow. I, Beau Buckley, would make something out of my career, and I would one day live to see my wish come true. After all, I left everything I had behind to pursue my dreams. 

Is being a writer all worth it?  

I miss my friends. I miss my family. I miss my home.

So when I wake up one day and feel as if everything changed; I feel… free?

I roll out of bed to sit upright with my feet dangling enough to barely touch the warm floor beneath me. To my surprise, I looked up at my window and realized that I had left it open all night. The beams of the bright and golden morning sun are peeking over the tall buildings and beaming through my window, warming up my face. As I pull my head through the window, I look down at the busy streets of New York City and something is different. It’s clean. It’s bright. There are hardly any cars, and everything is calm. As I observe the faces of the people below me, I see bright and genuine smiles, matched with a bright pair of eyes. I feel myself forgetting to breathe as I concentrate so closely on the peaceful air that I was so blessed with so early on this fine Sunday morning. As I check my clock laying upon my mantel in my bedroom, it reads 9:00AM. This is the first Sunday that I didn’t sleep in and lay around in I don’t know how long! As I stand up feeling fully energized, I rush to brush my teeth, get dressed, and decide in a spur of a moment to rush down the stairs and pay a visit to my favorite corner coffee shop only a few blocks away. As I walk the streets of Manhattan, I feel light and I feel healthy. That is an absurd thing to be feeling in New York City. Don’t get me wrong, I love the city, but it’s obviously not what I am used to. Growing up, I was blessed with rolling fields of green on the land that housed my family for decades and decades before me. I often enjoyed using up all of my youthful energy running around, chasing chickens, cows, and even those silly fainting goats that I would find so much joy out of scaring. I miss my Mama and my Papa, but I know I'm making them proud,  I had to leave home. I had to. I wanted to make a better life for myself and even for them. As I reminisce on the beautiful property that is my home in the suburbs of Louisiana, I find that I arrived at that very corner which holds my most favorite coffee shop. And to my surprise, it isn’t very busy. As I walk inside I notice the leisurely feeling obtained by everyone. No one is rushing to work. No one is checking their watch, or even harassing the workers to hurry up on their coffee, just to complain when the taste is even a slight bit off. As I order my drink, I decide to get something very new; a tea! I have never been a tea guy, I have always looked toward coffee to wake me up when nothing else could; but this tea was the rejuvenation I had been looking for. I have never really been good with change, but I really like it. As I tip the barista, I  make my way outside to look for a place to sit, but as I do so, I hear the alluring sounds of the local cathedral bells chiming to alert the city that the 10:00 sermon was about to commence. As I stopped to think, I started to make my way down the block, sipping my tea, and into the church. I never went to church as soon as I moved to the city. I never wanted to get out of my apartment as a matter of fact, because… I just never wanted to be on the streets. It was too much for me at times.

 Truthfully, I just always feel like I don't belong here.

I grew up going to my Southern Baptist church with Mama and Papa. I grew up with a close group of friends who I would often sit and goof off with. I was lucky that I lived to see my teenage years with the way I acted in that small Louisiana church.

 As the 10:00 sermon began, I scooted over to make room for a family of five who I had just seen prior to coming here at the coffee shop. The two little boys in the family were dressed up in an arrangement of baby blue and turquoise in a plaid pattern with leather dress shoes; as the mother and the father held their baby girl dressed with a beautiful baby blue dress accompanied with a small baby blue bow as well. I smiled as this reminded me of my Mama on Easter morning as she would rush to get my siblings and I dressed as we ate the messy chocolate that the Easter bunny had left us the night before. Energized with sugar, my siblings and I would make it a competition to see who could make Mama blow up first. Would it be me? Would it be you? Would it be Dad? But alas, no one could ever make her blow up. She has always kept her little southern woman elegance. It was surprising to me how she could be such a perfect mother for me. 

My Mama; she was perfect.

As the sermon went on, we got to our closing song. As we stood up and sang, “Are You Washed In The Blood”, it reminded me of the faithful summer night, when the sounds of the cicada chirping outside were the only sounds you could hear for miles except for the church congregation crowding around me to pray. As old friends, pastors, pastors wifes, grandparents, my parents, family, friends of family, anybody; as they crowded around and prayed for me. They didn’t want me going to New York. They didn’t want to see me leave. They didn’t want to bid their ol’ Beau goodbye. But, they knew I had a big and bright future ahead of me. The day I left, I never quite felt the same after that. The holidays I've missed because I was working. The milestones in my sweet, small hometown that I didn’t acknowledge. Not even the mountain of calls that I hadn’t answered because I had meetings, or lunch dates, or was just too tired.

What had happened to me? 

As I snapped out of my thoughts, the pastor was already wrapping up his sermon. The words that the pastor said next are words that I will forever keep with me.

“The eternal God is your dwelling place, and underneath are the everlasting arms. Deuteronomy 33:27.”

Just as those words were spoken, I woke up in my very own bed to the sounds of the busy bustle of New York City. I sat up quickly in a cold sweat, scared half to death. It was all a dream.

As I checked the time, the clock read 11:00AM. I grabbed my phone and searched for the nearest times to fly to Louisiana just in time for the 4th of July. I was going back home.

Not much was on my mind when that plane to New Orleans took off, but at the same time, there was so much commotion within my head that I could hardly stand it. It was a feeling that I can recall all too well, but I could never explain fully. It was a feeling of starting your life all over again, even though I was going back to the place where I started my life.

As the plane landed, I ordered an Uber to come pick me up. I had grown accustomed to using those in New York when I couldn’t walk somewhere. You can only imagine my surprise when I found out that Louisiana has grown pretty fond of using them too; even with all of the empty backroads. I didn’t care what the fee would be, I just wanted to get home. I wanted to see my Mama and my Papa. I wanted to see my brothers and how much they had grown up. I wanted to see my family.

As the driver pulled up to my house, my two little brothers were outside setting up some fragile assortments of Tiki torches that were obviously purchased from the closest dollar store to our house. As I grabbed my travel bag and got out of the car, I paid the Uber driver. As he pulled away, the looks on my, now, grown little brother's faces were faces I would never forget for the rest of my life. “MOM!” They screamed. “MAMA! IT’S BEAU!” 

I hurriedly dropped my bags and lifted them both up in one huge, messy hug when they ran toward me. I could hear their voices cracking as they continued to shout my name. “Beau. Beau!” I tried to hold in my tears, but they were inevitable as they streamed down my face. When my brothers became too heavy for me to hold them, I lowered them both back down to the ground, with my eyes still closed so they couldn’t give their ol’ Beau a hard time for crying. As my eyes opened, I saw the bright and powerful silhouette standing in the small, skinny driveway of my home.

 It was my Mama.

I felt as if I couldn’t breathe anymore as I looked right into her eyes. In her eyes, the look of shock and disbelief glazed over as she covered her mouth with her trembling hand. I started to slowly walk toward her. It felt like I was floating. I couldn’t believe it. I was home. As my Mama and I embraced, I could feel her shaking and her eyes were flowing with tears. How was it possible that I had grown over the years as my mother aged and aged? As she held me oh so tight, and oh so close, I lowered my ear down to her mouth as I heard her cry out these words:

“Thank you, Lord. Thank you!”

For the first time in forever, at that moment, I thought:

“I Feel Alive.”