As I sit to write this piece, listening to the amazing Ludovico Einaudi, I have to stop to feel. Feel the intense emotions flooding my heart. While I am deeply excited, thrilled, enthralled even, I am also sitting with the feelings of the unknown. The feelings of change. And while change is good, it’s scary.
In the Good Book, God told Abram, “Go from your country, your people and your father’s household to the land I will show you.” And I knew it was time to leave. I’ve always known I would leave, but now I’m actually leaving, and to be honest, I doubt I ever come back. I’ll visit for sure, but this is not “the land God is trying to show me.”
I’m leaving behind my friends and family to go somewhere I have actually never been before but have already fallen in love with. A final goodbye to the Mediterranean lounge that allowed me to feel away from home and write. My little brother’s eyes drooping as I tell him I’m leaving. The embrace of my mother’s hug. The memories of friends I shared so many fun nights with. Driving down the backroads I used to play on as a child.
Oh Baltimore, be good to me.
Oh Baltimore, may I get to know you intimately.
Oh Baltimore, I thank you for being a part of the next chapter in my life.
To Live the Poetry I Cannot Write
My perspective of this world is not dictated by the status quo, but rather by a spiritual connection to all of the never-ending possibilities. I desire to conquer every dream that has been hidden in my heart. There’s not a single thing I’ve prayed for that I haven’t received, and there’s not a single thing I’ve worked toward that I haven’t attained.
So for me, this isn’t about starting over, beginning a new life, or even a quote-unquote stepping stone. It’s the expression of pen to paper that I live by. The ability to write my own story and allow it to evolve in the most authentic, beautiful way it knows how. To keep God first, be a good steward of the many blessings He has already blessed me with, and know how to steward the ones that have yet to come.
Someone once told me, “You scare me. I never know what you are going to do next.”
I chuckled and responded, “Neither do I.”
Because life is not to be planned but to be lived, to be experienced, to bask in the art of the known and unknown, and to know that as long as you continue to put pen to paper, the story written will be one of a kind.
I said a while back that I will live the poetry I cannot write. I want to touch, see, and feel as much of the world as I humanly possibly can. So I vow to forever take a chance on art, take a chance on the unknown, take a chance on the known, and never let my pen sit for too long. For I have a voice worthy of being heard and a story worthy of being told.
I used to desire the perception of mystery, of many not knowing me, who I truly was, or what experiences I actually lived. Partially due to feeling judged. But more than anything, due to a desire to be understood.
So I wrote today, “There was a time I craved to be understood. But little did I know being misunderstood was more freeing.”
Therefore, I refuse to hide, apologize, or shrink myself into something understandable. For I would rather be misunderstood. I would rather bask in the art of craziness than dwindle in the simplicity of normalcy.
A Life Worth Living
Many discuss the difficulty of finding your purpose. Figuring out who you are, what you want to be. But I have always known my purpose, who I was, and what I wanted to be. I think it’s just as hard to express that certainty as it is for the one who is uncertain of it all.
So I pray that God continues to protect me, but most importantly, that I protect the courage it takes to walk out on faith and do exactly what I know I am purposed to do. I want to write until I take my very last breath. I want to express art in as many forms as I can learn. I want to reveal a true heart like Christ to as many people as I can touch. And may my courage to live life to the fullest give someone a little more courage to put pen to paper as well and write out the most beautiful story that has yet to be told.
I once said, “If I died today, and for whatever reason I get to rise again, return me as art, return me as the many images of God.”
May you see that God lives in both you and me.
For God gave us the opportunity to live a life of abundance.
A life worth living.
So per usual, I’m begging you to live.
Oh Baltimore, be good to me.
Oh Baltimore, may I get to know you intimately.
Oh Baltimore, I thank you for being a part of the next chapter in my life.
Oh Baltimore, may my art live on with you.
Pen to paper, forever and always.
[…] But as I’ve written before, one can be right but not justified. […]