What Turning Twenty-Eight Means

Since I got out of court last Tuesday, I have just about been celebrating my birthday.  Getting my visitation agreement amended was the best way to set off beginning a new year.

I enjoyed the last six days.  I got what I really needed: some me time.  Me time to do what I wanted.  On Wednesday, I went to the Kanye West Concert.  However, the real reason for going to the Yeezus concert was to see A Tribe Called Quest, who were the opening act and performing their last concerts as a group ever.  My friend and I wound up missic Tribe.  They kept saying that they felt bad, but I told them I didn’t care.  The little things mean the most to me, so the reason why we were late actually wound up being the best part of my birthday.  On Friday, I spent my birthday seeing my grandmothers in Queens during the day and that night having drinks with my good friends.  Couldn’t ask for much more.

Around 3 AM, I spoke a few words to a friend of mine that I think solidified that twenty-eight would be different.  This isn’t the time to say what that was, but there is a major difference between thinking something and actually declaring it out of your mouth.  It brings the words to life and you have no choice but to follow through with your words.  It’s one of those moments that no matter how things turn out in my life, I’ll never forget that conversation on the corner of 126th and Lenox Ave.  Ever.

You know how people ask if we feel different after our birthdays and the answer is usually “no?”  I woke up the next morning feeling different.  Was it just another day? No.  I felt the urgency to begin setting goals and planning how to achieve them within the next 264 days.  I thought about Cydney, the life that I want for her.  I prayed for those in my inner circle and something I don’t normally do: I prayed for myself.  I asked God to use me and my abilities to the best of my capacity.  After that, it was back to writing and taking the first steps to my next destination.

I think that I am my own worst enemy.  Being cynical is what holds me back.  While I believe and hope that positive things happen, I usually expect the worst.  I’m usually able to predict how things will happen based on probability and see things and circumstances through.  But I think that my mindset of knowing that things will turn out otherwise is me not having enough faith.  

James 2:17 is the verse that says that faith that is not accompanied by action is dead.  I think that work accompanied by little faith has the same consequences.  I’m pretty sure that I don’t have as much faith because I don’t actually speak much into existence.  I just think it and treat my thoughts like they’re something I’ve said out loud.  Friday night changed that.  It wasn’t much, it was something I have thought for a few months, it wasn’t something they hadn’t known already.  Nonetheless, I have a sense of urgency that has heightened. 

After the celebration comes the work.  Stay tuned…

 

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