The Rhythm Beneath the Work

I’ve created a lot of things in my life. That sounds more impressive than it probably is, so let me immediately undercut it before anyone gets carried away. I’m not saying I’m some kind of creative genius. I’m saying I’ve spent a lot of my life making stuff, starting stuff, building stuff, and occasionally looking back and thinking, “Well… that got weird.”

For a big chunk of my life, I played drums and guitar, so I created music. Some of it was good. Some of it was probably only meaningful to the people trapped in the room while I was playing it. In business, I launched new products, explored new territories, helped start new branch locations, and built things that had strategies, sales goals, spreadsheets, and all the other thrilling adult arts. In my life as a spiritual leader, I’ve developed curriculum, helped faith communities reimagine themselves, and started several faith-based communities.

So creating something new isn’t exactly new for me. But Just Love – Greater New Orleans has been different. It has been harder. Slower. Messier. Less controllable. More humbling. And, honestly, far more rewarding. Because for the first time, I don’t feel like I’m creating something for people or even around people. I feel like I’m creating something with people, co-equally. And that changes everything. Nothing we’ve started through JL-GNO has come from me sitting alone in a room, drinking coffee, staring into the middle distance, and receiving a fully formed vision from the heavens. Which is good, because mostly when I stare into the middle distance, I just remember emails I forgot to answer.

Everything we’ve started has come from listening.

Someone said foster families needed space to breathe and be cared for, so Fostering the Families began taking shape. Neighbors showed us that book access was uneven across parts of the city, so Little Free Libraries (now Curiosity in the Wild) started becoming more than boxes; they became small signs of trust and welcome. People were hungry for honest questions and real conversation, so Curious Krewe began. Older adults needed a table where memories, questions, and wisdom could be honored, so Seasoned Curious Krewe emerged. Churches in Central City were already caring for unhoused neighbors, and instead of duplicating that work, we joined them through the Good Samaritan Initiative. Through the Greater New Orleans Interfaith Association, interfaith friends kept showing us that care for the city gets stronger when we stop working in silos, so those relationships deepened too.

In other words: JL-GNO didn’t begin with answers. It began with curiosity. That is where this whole Spirituality with Skinseries has been heading.

We started by asking what spirituality even is. Not vague vibes. Not a candle beside a journal you forgot existed. Not just belief or emotion or ritual. We defined spirituality as the honest, ongoing way we make meaning, relate to what we consider sacred, and let that relationship reshape how we live with ourselves, our neighbors, and the world.

Then we talked about meaning, because meaning does not magically fall from the sky fully assembled. It is built slowly through service, story, and belonging. We talked about what happens when the story breaks through grief, moral injury, and lament. We talked about religion as a tool, table, or trap, and then about what religion is for at its healthiest: helping us remember who we are at our best and calling us back when we forget.

And after all of that, we arrive here: A healthy spirituality has a rhythm. Not a formula. Not a program. Not a five-step plan with matching tote bags. A rhythm. For JL-GNO that rhythm is simple, but far from easy.

Curiosity. Care. Connection. Collaboration. Circling Back.

Curiosity is where we begin, because listening comes first. We ask before assuming. We listen before solving. We pay attention to stories before we design solutions. That sounds simple, but it is shockingly rare. Most of us are trained to diagnose quickly, respond quickly, fix quickly, and then move on quickly so we can feel useful. Curiosity slows us down enough to see what is actually there. That matters because people are not projects. Neighborhoods are not problems to solve. Communities are not blank canvases waiting for our brilliant ideas. They are living stories already in motion. Curiosity is how we honor that.

When curiosity is honest, it grows into care. Care is what happens when empathy starts moving. It is dignity, practical help, and consistent presence. It is a meal served with eye contact. A housing voucher offered without condescension. A foster parent receiving support instead of another round of applause that does not actually help them. A book placed where a child can reach it. A conversation where someone is not just tolerated, but heard. Care is love getting a body.

But care, if it stays healthy, does not remain transactional. It deepens into connection. Connection is where trust grows. It is where people are not simply served, but known. This is where names get remembered. Stories get repeated. Inside jokes form. People start checking on each other. A guest becomes a neighbor. A volunteer becomes a friend. A gathering becomes a community. This is also where spirituality starts to feel less like an idea and more like oxygen. Because we are not healed by concepts alone. We are healed in relationship. Around tables. In circles. On sidewalks. In the repeated miracle of someone showing up again.

And then connection, if we let it mature, becomes collaboration. Collaboration is where love gets organized. It is where we stop pretending one person, one church, one nonprofit, or one brilliant leader can carry the whole thing. Collaboration says, “What are you already doing well? What are we doing well? What can we do together that none of us could do alone?” This is why the Good Samaritan Initiative matters. This is why interfaith work matters. This is why we are trying to serve as a connector, bridge, encourager, and light coordinator rather than duplicating what others already do well. Our renewed strategy is helping us remember that JL-GNO is not trying to become a catch-all organization. (Thank the Heavens, because that way leads to madness, burnout, and way too many Google Docs).  The goal is to become more focused, aligned, and sustainable around a repeatable rhythm that helps neighbors flourish.

And then, finally, we circle back. This may be the most important part, because it keeps the whole thing from becoming rigid. Circling back means we return again and again to curiosity. We ask what we learned. We ask what changed. We ask who was missing. We ask whether the care we offered was actually helpful. We ask whether the collaboration deepened trust or just created more activity. We ask whether we are still listening.

Because love is not a one-time response or a place we can arrive at or some skill we master. Love returns. That is the rhythm. Curiosity listens. Care responds. Connection deepens. Collaboration organizes. And then love circles back to listen again.

For me, this is not just an organizational strategy. It is becoming a way of understanding spirituality itself. A spirituality with skin does not stay in the clouds. It lands on the block. It asks better questions. It notices real needs. It lets compassion move. It builds trust. It shares resources. It partners across difference. It learns from what happened. And then it begins again. And, beautifully and inconveniently, it changes us in the process.

For me, and for Just Love, this rhythm is rooted in the Christian story...but it is not only illuminated by the Christian story. This is what following Jesus has come to mean for us: not closed fists or easy certainty, but curiosity, compassion, connection, and love of neighbor. And while we are grounded there, we stay wide open to wisdom, friendship, and partnership across traditions.

That is why, beginning in May, we are going to slow down and spend time with each movement of the rhythm. We will start with Curiosity, because that is where love begins when it does not want to become arrogant. Then we will move into Care, because listening has to become embodied. Then Connection, because dignity grows best in relationship. Then Collaboration, because love has to organize itself for the common good. And then Circling Back, because if we do not return, reflect, and listen again, we will eventually confuse activity with faithfulness.

So here we are. Still creating, but differently now. Not creating for people. Not creating at people. Creating with people. And maybe that is one of the most important things JL-GNO has taught me, and continues to teach me: the work gets better when it is shared. The vision gets clearer when it is listened into being. The rhythm gets stronger when more people carry it.

That is the invitation. Come practice the rhythm with us. Bring your curiosity. Bring your care. Bring your questions, your stories, your faith tradition, your philosophical worldview, your gifts, your doubts, your stubborn hope, and your casserole if you have one (because we need it!!!). We are not trying to build something flashy. We are trying to build something faithful, useful, honest, and alive.

A spirituality with skin. A love with rhythm. A community that keeps circling back.

Wishing you grace, peace, and every good,

Sam