The Spiritually Confused World of a Socially Conscious Unsociable… Masked as a Minister.

Me at Birth. If I only knew what would happen 32 years later… (Also I accidentallly broke a green spray can around the picture. Thus the green specks…)

So let me get this out of the way. I’m 32 years old. Still considered relatively young to my elders, but deemed old as hell by teenagers. Knowing what is going on in the world specifically around police brutality, black on black violence, or the general safety and discrimination, I notice I am sad.

I’m sad because I want to know what to do, but not jump into a reactive scenario where I’m caught in circle work (busy-ness with no purpose). I hear conversations from adults my age and older, “These kids are just a mess. They were not like us. Sure, we did our dirt, but never anything like this.” I hear teenagers tells me most of the context around many killings and violence and usually say, “My family would beat my ass if I just let them run over me! I ain’t got no choice, I gotta fight!” Before I know it, the blame game begins.

Cops blame the community for allowing the violence. Communities blame cops for not doing there damn job. Pastors call out the drug dealers and gangsters for being the bad guys. The ones labeled criminals blame the clergy for being complacent and passive. They are tired of their God-talk while being hypocrites in their own action. Man call women hoes, thots, and Jezebels because a woman hurt their heart. Therefore, all women pay. Woman call all men dogs because of the men that see them as a means of pleasure and never a person full of love. Of course that discourse is very heteronormative. I apologize. If not that, black men blame the LGBT community for the “Attack on Masculinity,” as I read articles of continued killings on black trans-women. This is mostly due to a gentlemen thinking sex and now feeling embarrassed he objectified someone for a sexual favor, that he never conversed on who is this person who he wants to indulge in an agreed sexual encounter. Before you know it, a life is lost because of the lack of conversation around sexuality.

Now of course people assume that I am suppose to be a stereotypical notion of the people they know as Black, Male, and/or Minister. I should understand their concern about “The World” coming after Christianity. “Eric, you out of anyone should know that the world is coming to an end. The end times are here! God’s vegenance is upon us! That’s the reason for all these natural disasters, ISIS (ISIL), Boko Haram, and Hatred! God is just speaking and is about to destroy everything!”

And I am tired of this Shit.

So I’m sad. Maybe it’s my fault. I go into myself in crowds. I shut down in large groups in public during these conversations. Mainly, because I did not come to certain events to discuss controversial issues. Usually these conversations are not about dialogue more than trying to appear a certain way to others. So I shut down. It’s why in a crowd I stand out as an eye soar for not joining the social scene all around me. I shut down to stay away even while I am near. I shut down so not to explode about the stupidity of gab people use to be superior around others as they say they want to remain humble. I shut down.

Because if I expressed my true feelings, I would cry. Because to some of the people, I look as if I am simply being unsocial. It’s more because I constantly think about the context a person doesn’t know about to a story they assume they have all the facts about. If I even describe the context, they would probably think I made it all up. So instead, I shut down. Where some think I am intimidated around them. No, I just shut down to keep from crying. Where some think I’m being arrogant because I don’t show them everything about me just to be secretive. No, I just shut down to keep you safe from knowing everything about me. Because the moment I show everything, I don’t only risk myself, I risk your safety in a world you assume you know. So stay with the Blue Pill of safety to a world you want to remain ignorant in. Yet I digress and have exhausted this post.

I hear the underside of stories because people know that I listen. My confusion in their confusion with a generation that is not their own, is that many are already partial to what they hear, or assume what is the answer before understanding the scenario they hastily want to fix. They know Rome wasn’t built in a day, but want North Nashville to remain the same… without the complexities that keeps it oppressed in a manner of seconds. They want to pray for 2 hours at a church to pacify their body or minds, but not “get out in these streets” to build a relationship with another person. It’s easier to stay in the box. But you know what? Why stay in a box that is not feeding your soul, edifying your spirit, or giving you the power to do the impossible? Why assume you have to play by the rules of a game that is out of date. Why stay pigeon-holed (I might have made that word up or spelled it wrong) by gatekeepers that can barely stand any longer? Shit must change, now!

So… step out of the box.

Maybe a change agent is needed who doesn’t necessarily play for any organization’s team, but has cat burglar skills to get into a situation and change the outcome. Not for the purpose of taking value, but adding value without being seen doing it. Maybe a person is needed who can gather a group of those same people, others say are rejects, and have them being the ones who bring positivity to a situation. Maybe it just takes one person to make one choice that flips the world upside down for the better. Maybe it’s you? Maybe it’s me? But before we lose our souls, let’s lose the paralysis that walks hand in hand with our fears. You may not can lose the fear, but you can lose the immobility and transform it into movement.

So… step out of the box.

#VentureForth #TheEBVenture