Do Whatcha Wanna

Anyone even peripherally associated with New Orleans, especially around Carnival, knows that the official, or unofficial, motto of the streets is “Do Whatcha Wanna” by the Rebirth Brass Band. There is a reason for that, and there is a deep spiritual lesson in following it. 

First, the reason. There is literally no way on Earth anyone person could possibly do and see all the things that Carnival has to offer. Even if you stayed up all night for the finally five days of the season (affectionately known as Deep Gras to some), you will invertible miss something. Okay, I guess that is obvious because at all times in life, in every moment, you are missing more than you are participating in. It’s just that this particular time of year really highlights it in a special way. You really gotta learn how to choice your own path and.. do whatcha wanna. But this requires deep internal listening, and that is a big spiritual lesson, at least for some of us. 

It might sound silly if you haven’t been to New Orleans for Mardi Gras, but the FOMO (fear of missing out) is real. The exhaustion and mess is also real. Mardi Gras is a practice; it is a marathon, not a sprint; it is ritual in the streets and a celebration of joy and grief. The longer I stay in this beautiful, broken down, exquisitely frustrating city, the more I come to realize how this time of year is my actual New Year and it is a chance to show off my feathers—like, my spiritual feathers. All of this is to say, the more I have come into closer contact with myself, the better able I am to handle the chaos and flow that is Carnival. 

It’s worth mentioning for those that don’t know, that Mardi Gras is just one day, Fat Tuesday, and it is 40 days before Easter, which is determined by the full moon in April. Mardi Gras, therefore, is a different date each year. But Carnival begins on Twelfth Night (Joan of Arcs birthday, January 6th) and is 12 days after Christmas. So, the season is anywhere from 4 weeks to 8, something like that. Think of it, that is a lot of partying in the streets.. The glitter and costume drawers can come out for what feels like forever. By the time the last jeweled face has been washed off and the last King Cake has been sold, there are a lot of of very burnt out folks from all strata of life. Even if you choose not to participate in the season you are still having to make a very concerted effort and it doesn’t guarantee you won’t be side-swiped by a rouge parade on your way to work. Carnival takes over. 

This idea of do whatcha wanna has really stuck out this year to me because it is simple not an easy thing to practice. Do whatcha wanna might mean staying home and watching movies till dawn, or it might mean waking up before dawn to bike to the edge of the quarter where you gather with fellow sun-enthusiasts to walk puppets to the Bywater. Do whatcha wanna might mean dressing like an animal, or it might mean being an animal…very different implication in the context of Mardi Gras. There is no wrong answer here, but it can be a lot of work to know yourself and follow the spirit of your heart. 

I am truly in awe by what we get to do down here, in New Orleans. (I know it also happens elsewhere, but I haven’t been there so I can only speak to the swamp version). When I zoom in I am fixated by the intricate details of creativity and unusual constructions of what is considered clothing. When I zoom out, I am astounded by the collective agreement to honor joy and revelry and for the entire city to turn a focused and blind eye on the 500 people marching down your street in the middle of the night. I am astounded by the way community is mobilized to come together and see one another in tears and delight. And I am also astounded by the way people showed up this year to still recognize the insanity of the world—namely that genocide doesn’t stop just because we are having a good time. 

I got the privilege this year to witness the first wave of grief of two people who had just lost their friend. I sat next to them, near strangers, on the river while they threw their flowers to the water and wept. It is such an honor to see grief anywhere, but how much beauty it is to see it done in bodysuits with beers and glitter. I also got to feel the pain of a friend as their wore their grief in shark teeth on their belly. It is actually okay to sometimes feel other’s pain. And I got to send a small prayer to the Martyrs Altar, also known as the Mardi Gras Altar, that happens every year in the spaces between the cars and the quarter—a moment of shelter in an otherwise storm. And I got to see music being performed that helps exorcise demons from your soul. All this, and so much more, in a days journey. 

But I also question why we do this every year, because actually do we need to party like it’s our job? And do we need to suspend school and work for many? And do we need to trash the streets? Well, I actually don’t think we need to trash the streets, to be honest, and that is a huge source of sorrow every year, though I do think we need to party the night away because it makes our community stronger. New Orleans weathers storms on many levels but that is why we are here, that is what makes this city what it is. People know how to come together and when you see people in the streets night after night you come to learn that this is how we get to know each other. Every year I have one person who becomes my Where’s Waldo character. This is the person I see at every party and gathering. It is usually someone I don’t know well, but by the end of the season we become pals. This is how community is built and it’s really, really important. I have never experience community anywhere like I have here. 

In its essence, do whatcha wanna is just a fun way of saying, be yourself, or march to your own drum, or live and let live. Do whatcha wanna is also the equivalent of saying, hands off my uterus, or let me use whatever bathroom I choose, because in essence do whatcha wanna tells us that it is okay to be ourselves and make choices for our bodies. These aren’t far fetched ideas to strive for but somehow politics and mainstream culture wants to have a lot of opinions—and policies— about things they should otherwise leave alone. When our spirits get fed we have a lot less energy for trying to controls others and a lot more time for the beauty that can be created. Carnival has typically depleted me fully because I was trying to live into someone else’s version of fun. While I’m still exhausted from stimulation overload, I put a lot of the FOMO down this year and discovered I could see myself and everyone around me so much better. I stopped trying to extract so much from my experiences and just let experience wash over me. I was finally able to subvert bigger aspects of society that I find abhorrent and live more in alignment with what it means to allow life to move me, and not the other way around.