Last week I went to New Orleans for the first time. I think it’s the most under-celebrated city in the States. It feels like you’re being transported to another country. If it’s not already on your list, add it.

I went to do some heart searching. These things happen. New Orleans is an amazingly supportive place to do it. Any place with beignets (my detox went on pause for four days, but I had no caffeine and no alcohol except that one sip at the Event Apart party. Erm.) is close to heaven for me.

Just before NOLA, my business partner Paul came to visit Boulder from Berlin for two weeks. We wrapped up our taxes during his visit and took some time to re-evaluate where we’re at. During his time here we watched one of our main clients close up shop. That’s when we decided to do some re-branding. The design firm formerly known as Plunge Artist (which we had to explain to everyone) is now officially Paper Karaoke. It reflects our unhealthily goofy obsession with karaoke and current commitment to making more tangible items to sell (postcards and the like). We’re thrilled to be embarking on this project.

Paul and I love to work together. His somewhat hesitant idealism and consistent idea stream matched with my exuberance and get-er-doneness seem to be a perfect fit. The company just turned a year old and we have figured out one another’s quirks…in fact, our quirks seem to be what makes it work.

So there was that. Paul flew home to Berlin and the next day I flew to New Orleans where I spent some time reflecting on what it means to me to be in the startup world all the time. I think we’re always reinventing ourselves. When we stop being flexible enough to reinvent our lives, we die.

Of course I know that’s the liberal arts girl in me talking. And I understand that there are times that we honestly, truly, want things to stay just as they are. And then they don’t. Hurricanes happen. Lives get turned upside down with a single phone call. The mind that is ready for change allows the body to do what it’s supposed to do: move on.

I am reminded of a moment in Japan. I was in Shinjuku, Tokyo standing on the eighth floor of Kinokuniya bookstore. Panels of glass to my left, looking up at the bookshelves that touched the ceiling. As I reached for a novel, the building began to shake. I felt the rush of fear in my throat and began to look around for Patrick, panicked. Then I noticed the rest of the customers, most of whom were Japanese. They were flipping through their manga, talking to each other calmly, walking around! In this moment of unexpected turbulence there they were. Still. Completely unperturbed.

Could I be that still in chaos? I’ve done years of mediation and yoga and yet I still let the storms rile me. Awake at Work is a book about this. In it, Michael Carrol says:

“Most important, “No ground, no guarantees, just now” reminds us that we are free. By acknowledging that who we are and what we do at work is never fixed, we discover a basic freedom, because anything can happen next. Remaining open to a world that is so vastly unpredictable requires us to be exceedingly brave and to trust that we are fully equipped to engage such events. To be that free is to be utterly available to our lives — to trust that we have the ingenuity, good humor and curiosity to adapt and thrive, no matter what the circumstances.”

Another project I’m involved with, sk*rt, is going through a name change today. If you cruise over to the site right now you’ll be able to help them re-name it (and perhaps win something, too). I have seen the editors go from pretty pissed (and we are all _so_ pretty) to totally tubular about it. Witnessing a community mobilize and “self-actualize” is inspiring. We can do more when we do it as a group. I really believe that.

New Orleans seems to me a timeless state in a period of transition. After Katrina it had to reinvent itself. It’s done a marvelous job of that. You can find something to love about it whether you’re 80 and rickety or 20 and jobless. It’s got the most decadent food imaginable at every price point. If you go, you are bound to catch yourself smiling even when you thought you were glum. If I had to be a city, I’d be New Orleans. Drinking ginger mint juleps through those humid summer nights…