Johannes XXIX: The Unfiltered

Approaching a day like this as a predator of stealth oft would hunt its prey, a prey which it is very cautious of and whom it knows can potentially turn the tables against the predator

With days like this there is that which is expected, inflection, introspection, stock taking, gratitude for being alive amongst other things, a little bit of humble brag about what you’ve achieved.

*Enter Nebuchadnezzar* ------“Behold the works of my hands’’

All of that is bright and beautiful, but I have eyed the days leading to today, wondering where in God’s green earth did the time go.

It’s not like the time passed so quickly, giving one a near perfect recollection of each moment as it went by, it’s more like something else be it in cahoots with the element of time (I may never know), seems to have held an unwitting brother down. But somehow the years went by, and the memories all get mixed up and you really can’t tell the years apart.

If you were a man of all brawn, this might just be a minor setback as muscle memory soon comes to save you, but when your best feature has been a lucid mind, able to cut through all the noise and produce exquisite works, then panic becomes the norm. Beautiful works are still being created, but this man knows he was made for more. Only very few are able to see this man receding into himself and leaving an acceptable mask which he has trained to give the right responses on the outside.

With my all-time favorite movies like Interstellar, Inception and Predestination which all deal with some form of time manipulation, it may not be too hard for you to guess how much I would love a time machine as a birthday or random day gift. But even I understand that it would be an impossible task even for the most daring of lovers.

So what do I do?

I take one final shot at sleep, setting an alarm that will rudely awaken me and tell me that nothing has stopped in the world while I mourned the scarcity of opportunities I’ve had. It wakes me up and tells me that the earth has no place for those who bury their talents in mud and crushing grief. It wakes me up not to a bright and shining day, but to one of stormy skies, slippery roads and lions on the street and it dares me to make something out of it. It wakes me up to fully BECOME…..

And there’s nothing I want more than for the sun to shine again and for no more filters, but I’ll take this new day and run with it.

I’ll tell the dawn that I am here to give, to take, to create. Time has taught me that contrary to public opinion, perfection is attainable and sustainable. We oft think it means everything moving smoothly against all odds, but I’ve realized perfection comes in different pouches, shapes and sizes. It is that business owner who scored their first deal, that person who woke up and said No Mas to a system that had robbed them for too long. It is that child that finally learns his alphabets, the one who learns to walk, the guy who has experienced a great tragedy and thought of ending his life but changes his mind.

And to many more people doing *little* things here and there. Perfection as has been shown in pop culture is a myth. No one has it all figured out. No one. We are all just voyagers heading to better. In light of that, what we can celebrate are what have been tagged as the little wins, but which are really just a portrait of our perseverance. We can celebrate these pouches of perfection.

And that is the theme of the new day I have stepped into. To reclaim all of what the mind that can do, to find an environment where that mind can be fully tapped to great gain (a.k.a I need a job), to create at the level of immortal gods something that will outlast even time and to rise up each day and give thanks to the God of my journey.



That is my theme and I hope to pass it along to you, dear fellow voyager.