Thoughts for the New Year

I blew a thick layer of dust off my writing desk well before dawn’s light. It’s been a long time; too long in fact. I’d always considered my writing desk a sanctuary of sorts. For months, I’d eluded that sanctuary. I ran my fingers along the edge of the desk as I processed my innermost thoughts. It was time to face the block that hampered me for months. Leading up to my daughter’s birth and several months after, I struggled to write anything meaningful. Each writing session ended in defeat, or so I thought.

I could hear my daughter’s coos from across the room. Her loving eyes were fixated on me. It was her genuine curiosity and gummy smile that fueled me— it gave me the reassurance I needed to continue my life’s work. Temporarily distracted by her newly discovered feet, I began to dig deep. What will this year represent? What do I want to accomplish? How will I impact my family?

Outside of my window, haze from the barrage of fireworks lingered in the desert sky. It’s become an unofficial symbol of a new year in the Valley of the Sun. Bright ideas, resolutions, and excitement for what was to come were certainly in the air. A new year brings a renewed focus and an unquenchable optimism that drives each of us to become the best version of ourselves. I no longer burden myself with an endless list of goals and aspirations. Several small compounded steps will ultimately get you where you want to go. I’ve chosen to keep life as simple as possible. Life is meant to be lived to the fullest without self-imposed pressures. It’s a beautiful experience despite its challenges. May we all reach the promised land of our deepest hopes and dreams.

Line in the Sand

I find solace in quiet hours. I’m an early riser as well as a night owl; this has been the case for many years. I do my best work in these moments. There’s peace in the freedom of thought; I withhold judgment of myself. Tonight as I sit at my writing desk, I’ve set out to express my thoughts with intentionality and authenticity.

We’re in an interesting moment in history. Some would argue, the best of times. If our scope were solely on the advancement of technology, I would agree. However, we’re more complex than this. I often ponder what our world would be like today if social media hadn’t become so engrained in the culture. How would we process our deepest thoughts, intimate moments, and our life as a whole without the ability to share with great scale? Virility has become a drug. Attention-seeking behavior is the norm. Clicks and likes are the gold standard.

Has social media exposed a chink in our proverbial armor? Has our collective desire to be seen destroyed the development of critical thinking and authenticity? Where do we go from here as a world that’s deeply entrenched in cyberspace? Please understand, my intention is not to group all people within a single bucket. I’ve met so many wonderful people. To be able to share my writing with the world has been blissful. There are many people who use social media responsibly, but I’d be remiss to say the toxic aspects haven’t appeared to outweigh its benefits.

While social media has certainly expanded our ability to connect with others beyond our geographical boundaries amongst other positives, it has also introduced a host of issues that have changed the landscape of our world forever. Today it is too embedded in our society. I believe it has exposed and exploited our human weaknesses. What would our world be like if social media were to shut down for an entire year? In many regards, I believe it would introduce an opportunity for society to reset.

From tide pod challenges to eerily vulnerable moments shared with strangers, where should the line be drawn in the sand? I don’t believe much can be done now, we’re in too deep.

Dear Black Women

You’re here. Please come in. I’ve been waiting for you, Queen. Have a seat. I’ve prepared a big comfortable chair just for you. Take off your shoes and relax. Stay awhile. In fact, don’t worry about taking off your shoes, I’ll do it for you. Please, let me cater to you. You just rest your feet and your mind. It’s an unfair world, isn’t it? There’s so much going on, but for the next few minutes, my attention is on you, and you alone.

Are you hungry? Do you like wine? Good. Let me pour you a glass of my finest Chardonnay. You’ve had quite a day, huh? I bet. You’ve endured much, yet still, you rise. You are the definition of strength and virtue.

Black women lend me your ear for a moment. I promise this won’t take too long, although if I were to fully express how I felt about you, we’d be here all day and night. It takes that much time to express how incredible you are. This world hasn’t been fair to you and we, Black men, haven’t always been fair to you, either. This is an honest statement, albeit painful to admit, but nonetheless true. We haven’t always protected you as we should’ve. We haven’t always supported you. This is a crime against you. Black women, you deserve more from us in 2021; you deserve more from the world.

This piece was written in celebration, respect, and admiration for all Black women. You’ve gracefully fought and continue to fight to be heard, valued, and taken seriously. Your issues have been put on the back burner for far too long. Your cries in the darkness often went unheard. Today, I want to do my part in changing that. Your thoughts, feelings, and issues matter. You deserve more than you’ve gotten. I hope by the end of this piece, you’ll feel the sincerity of my heart. It’s also my hope that you’d feel appreciated.

Black women, I just want to talk you up for a moment. Is that alright? You’re brilliant and in a league of your own. You’re making moves and voices heard. You’re doing all of this with class and excellence. You’re creating businesses and jobs. I applaud you, especially since corporate America hasn’t given you a fair shake. You’ve created your own seat at the table. You’re the definition of motherhood. You heal. You inspire. It’s true that everything you touch turns to gold. I’ve seen it with my own eyes. Your impact on the culture is unmatched. There are so many examples of your brilliance, it’s literally woven into the fabric of our lives.

Your beauty is deeper than your outward appearance; while we could bask in your glow all day, words cannot fully express all that you are. There’s something about your smile that makes everything alright. The calmness of your voice makes our deepest pain easier to bear. When you speak, nature listens. When you move, things change. The essence of God is within you. Every shade of your Blackness is majestic. You cannot be duplicated. You’re alluring. You’re the definition of graceful. Every inch of your body is heaven on earth. You bring people hope with your smile, and your presence lights up an entire room. Please don’t ever let anyone make you feel inferior.

There aren’t enough words in the English lexicon that could be used to adequately describe all that you are. I stand with all of the other men across the world who see you, hear you and strive to do a better job of being what you need. Black women, we love you. Black women, we support you. Black women, we honor you. Black women, we need you. You’re powerful beyond measure.

But, I Don’t See Color…

As a Black person living in a country that’s hyper-obsessed with political correctness and faux wokeness, you’re bound to confront problematic ideas sooner or later. We seemingly stand in the crosshairs of tone-deafness daily. Everyone has an opinion these days. Race, being one of the more polarizing topics, is a surefire way to ruffle feathers. I intend to do so today. Let it be known, I don’t write these words out of spite, but out of a pure desire to express authentic thought.

I’d like to make myself clear from the onset by stating I do not believe all white people are intentionally racist, I do believe, however, many are ignorant to the real trials and tribulations we face on a daily basis. Even those who call themselves allies, don’t fully grasp the scope of the modern-day Black experience.

White supremacy is an exhausting topic, yet I find myself knee-deep in it quite often. Living in the desert has been an incredible experience, but it doesn’t come without its fair share of uncomfortable moments. More often than not, I’m the only Black man at neighborhood events and gatherings with neighbors. Sadly, awkward conversations are the norm. For example, someone thought it was appropriate to tell me how wonderful Martin Luther King was and how they don’t see color while we were eating. This happened unprovoked.

I take pause when I think of people who find this behavior acceptable. It’s intellectually dishonest at best. I’m sure that lady believed what she said, but in reality, we all see color; I know I do. Here’s the deal: It’s okay to enjoy our presence without inelegantly waving your anti-racist banner. We have to normalize creating boundaries around “the talk.” You have a right to end interactions that do not feel natural. It’s not our job to teach anyone about the Black experience, nor should we have to accept these strange attempts to empathize with our struggle. It comes off as disingenuous and we see that. Our experiences should not be used as a platform for virtue signaling.

All shades of Blackness are equally and uniquely beautiful. Being different is something that should be celebrated and not seen as divisive. It’s okay to admit you see color; we didn’t believe you anyway. Authenticity these days is fleeting, I know. It’s a fact of life as the nation at large continues to believe racism is a thing of the past. You can be our friend, support the fight for equality, and still, embrace what makes us different.

A Beautiful Beginning

A new year represents a beautiful chance to start over. It’s a beacon of hope that we look to as we turn yet another page in this book of life. It‘s a chance to reset, shed the weight of what didn’t work while simultaneously dreaming of what we could accomplish this time around.

It’s this expectant attitude, hope, and excitement that encourages us to rise to the occasion. I’m encouraged, and I hope you are as well. I believe our future is certainly greater than our past. I’m thankful for opportunity to go at it again.

At the beginning of the year, I like to review the year before. During this time I examine the things that went right for me, and also the areas I could improve. While I wish it were easy to celebrate the wins, I often gloss over those to focus on what I could’ve done better. Perhaps you can relate? I call it the folly of perfection. While we understand perfection doesn’t exist, it doesn’t stop us from attempting to live void of mistakes. I know the struggle well. Learning how to embrace ourselves just as we are while we’re in the process of becoming the best version of ourselves is challenging at best.

What are you most excited about this year? Have you laid out your plan of attack? Do you have tangible goals? I’ve decided to keep it simple this year. I’m focused on spending more time living in the moment, treating my body with love, and sharing the content of my heart with authenticity and passion. There’s no need to run ourselves into the ground. Take it slow this year. Be intentional with your relationships and your time. Be kind to your body and your spirit. Remember to breathe often and always give yourself grace.

May this new year present you with extraordinary opportunities, happiness, and the truest desires of your heart.

Finding Freedom

For many years I quietly accepted ideas that were not my own. Religion was ingrained in me since birth, practically. As someone who grew up in the church, the stories I read and the dogma preached was all I knew. I became a commander of the gospel in my youth. I learned to disregard other people’s point of view and would accuse them of needing saving when their personal views did not align with the views of my church. I still cringe when I think about it. I felt empowered due to my ability to recall scriptures on a dime and believed it was my duty to save everyone. I was heavily encouraged to evangelize by the church leaders. I felt that was all my life was worth to them.

I spent the majority of my teenage years in Youth Ministry. I was conditioned and pressured to be this thoughtless robotic Christian. I suppressed my own ideas and accepted the Pastor’s perception of the world. They forced us to sing and dance during praise and worship and if we didn’t, there was a lecture. “Isn’t God good? Why aren’t you praising him?! People are dying every day and you’re just standing there!?” There was even a youth service where one of the youth leaders tried to make us speak in tongues. I stood at the front while one of the leaders prayed for me. Nothing was happening, and I could sense his frustration. I strung a few odd words together based on what I’d heard others do, just to go back to my seat. It felt unnatural to be pressured this way. The immense guilt as a result of not truly conforming was always there, lingering. It was a heavy thing to shake. I’d often apologize for having my own thoughts.

The ministry put us in a box. We were mindless people who were encouraged to believe everything about us was bad. By simply existing, we were damaged. They dangled hell in front of us to keep us in line. It was a breeding ground for low self-esteem. The control was the worst. Everything had to be approved by the Pastor. I can remember people having to get his blessings just to move on with their lives. When I finally got the courage to leave to live my own life, I felt like the odd man out. I was the young man who lost his way. Many of the folks I went to church with were like my family.

Today, I embrace my ideas about religion without fear or self-judgment. It took me a while to get to this place. When you actually take a step back and think about it, the foundation of religion is built on fear. Maybe you’ve been feeling this uneasiness in your own spiritual life. There is such thing as spiritual abuse and it’s more common than you think. Spiritual marginalization occurs when you are ostracized for having your own thoughts and questions. I can remember my questions being labeled as unbelief because they were too difficult for the religious leader to address, thus labeling me someone who needed more Jesus. Spirituality is liberation, while religion is a prison.

This piece was written not to say believing in Christ is wrong. It’s a piece that challenges the idea that we are not capable of making our own decisions about our spirituality without manipulation. Many spiritual leaders mean well, but they do not fully grasp the impact, and or magnitude of gross judgment. May we all continue to grow, learn, and become at peace with ourselves. We all were truly fearfully and wonderfully made. Our spiritual journey is deeply personal. Never let anyone make you feel bad for questioning your beliefs. It’s your right to question what you believe. Freedom of thought makes life beautiful.

Thriving in a world of Chaos

It feels as if we’ve been holding our collective breath the entire year. If it ain’t one thing, it surely is another. I’m not one to feed into popular tropes, but is 2020 over yet? That seems to be the consensus. From the coronavirus, open racism and a myriad of losses, many of us are asking when will things get back to normal. Anxiety, uncertainty and fear has seeped into our everyday lives. Life, as unpredictable as it is, has been extraordinarily challenging for a lot of people. How do we cope with all that has and continues to happen in a world seemingly gone mad?

I won’t profess to have a perfect answer to the question but I do believe there’s hope for all of us that have been challenged by the events of this year. In the midst of this uncomfortable season in our lives, I’m daring to believe that no matter what we face, we’ll be able to stand on the other side of these trying times with more confidence, strength and resilience than ever before.

As we continue this journey through life, it’s important that we remember we’ve been through tough times before. You’re still standing. You’re going to get through this. You may have taken a few bumps and bruises along the way, but the next season of your life will be one of the greatest in your life. Don’t lose hope.

I’ve learned a few things as I’ve spent the greater part of this year in deep thought. One of the things I’ve found valuable is making sure to limit exposure to the news. There’s rarely anything good on the news these days. I’ve found peace by spending time with loved ones and consciously focusing on where I want to be. Dream big, I always say, you truly have purpose. I don’t care how much money you think you don’t have. It doesn’t matter how many loses you’ve taken. What matters is you’re coming out of this year with laser sharp focus and determination. Hold on, your change is coming. Believe you can still thrive in this world of chaos.

Lastly, focus on your mental health. Unplug from the internet and take a stroll through nature. Be kind to yourself. Listen to your soul today. Follow the still small voice on the inside that’s leading you to the calm waters of peace. Life may not be always be a walk in the park, but you’re on the come up. Say it with me, WE’RE THRIVING NO MATTER WHAT WE FACE. You’re going to be okay. You’ll be able to withstand anything that comes your way. You got this.

We're Tired: An Essay

As I pen this piece, I find myself in a state of doleful pensivity. Quite frankly, I’m angry and fed up. We were just coming off the heels of the unjust death of Ahmaud Arbery and Breonna Taylor— and now this. What is it going to take for Black lives to matter in America? This question has been a strangely perplexing one for me. I feel the anger flow through my veins as I continue writing. For far too long we’ve endured traumatic violence and systematic oppression with seemingly no end in sight. For anyone who doesn’t believe racism is alive and well, I’d implore you to get your eyes checked. The sheer amount of ignorance and callousness led me to step away from social media for a few days to gather my thoughts. I didn’t feel very positive. I felt a lingering spirit of melancholy that didn’t seem to want to leave me alone. I had to deal with those emotions in a healthy manner. While these events are traumatizing, these events also display the strength of Black people across this nation. We’ve endured so much to make it to 2020. From slavery to Jim Crow segregation, we’re still standing and fighting for freedom. I’m proud to be Black.

I could not bring myself to watch the entire video of George Floyd’s murder— it was too painful. I’m tired of seeing unarmed Black men and women dead in the street as the world looks on as if it’s just another day. I’m tired of people looking down on us as we demand justice. As a people, we’re tired of not being heard. We’re tired of having to tell our children to be perfect, so they won’t end up in a body bag. We’re tired of being overly cautious. We’re tired of hearing, “get over it.” We’re tired being called animals because we take to the streets in anger. We’re tired of being killed. We’re tired of our past being used to justify our demise. America, you were offended when we knelt, now you’re going to have to deal with our rage. You can’t have it both ways.

Folks who chose not to identify with our struggle, could not last one day in our shoes. It takes a sheer amount of ignorance and a lack of empathy to choose not to speak up when those who share this soil with you are murdered like animals. For those who laugh and jeer at the sight of Black death, I pray the lord has mercy on your soul. This hatred of Black folks is revolting, uncivil and unjustified. I had to allow these feelings to flow. I understand some will not understand the lens by which I view the world, nor will they understand what it’s like to be a Black man in America. I wear this dark skin with pride and honor, for I am grateful the good Lord saw fit to bless me with Blackness. The world sees this skin as a burden, but I see it as a crown. We will continue to demand justice. I pray this is an opportunity for unity and progression.