top of page
Writer's pictureZuogwi Earl Reeves

They say he Got up notes on Resurrection.

Im going to keep It a Bean with you. I've been struggling to describe my 32nd year in anticipation of my 33rd. I woke up on my 32nd birthday, being told several times that I was a nobody and I would pay for my opinions. 32 would be a total year of revelation. It's been a rollercoaster of emotions like I've lived a lifetime in just the last 12 weeks. Some days felt endless, leaving me emotionally exposed and exhausted. I was mostly angry or sad. In contrast, others brought moments of clarity that made the world seem crystal clear, only for the fog of confusion and dismay to return just as swiftly. I've been carrying all of this with me, and now, facing this blank page, I can feel every bit of it yearning to be expressed. The disappointment, the grief not just of those who have passed away but the friendships I had to mourn. My anger was kindled by my mistakes and discovering Judas lurking, hoping for my permanent demise. Yet, through the lessons, time taught me that all good things come to those who stay true. True to themselves, Honest, pure, and unafraid to Be othered because of their truth. It's remarkable how time can warp and twist like an ever-winding rollercoaster. One moment, I'm standing still, wondering when this season will pass, and the next, I'm engulfed in a whirlwind of memories, as if I've lived through years in the blink of an eye. It stretches in some places and compresses in others, leaving you unsure where you truly stand. There's been joy and sorrow, and in the midst of it all, I've been grappling with the weight of it—striving to find equilibrium. To exist, to belong, to set a marker, to find my footing, and to carve a path to reality. As I sit here, reflecting on the year, I can't help but unpack some of the highs and lows that have shaped this journey. 2023 was a year brimming with potential, marking the end of my two-year stint as a full-time graduate student, working full-time and playing footies with a doctoral program. I felt and still do that I could conquer anything that had come my way. It was a significant turning point, and I felt I was about to leap from the stagnant place into something new. It felt like nothing would be the same after listening to Joe Biden talking to almost 3 thousand graduates who woke up from a night of culminating the most toxic love affair with America's flagship negro institution, The (Da) Mecca, Howard, a place where people rub there head profusely on the stone of knowledge to make a difference in the world. Howard is a potent symbol of aspiration and transformation, A sacred Haji that wholistically encapsulated the plight of the Negro juxtaposed with every year with every stance, every corner, every landing, and every turn; it is a bison who answer the riddle asked by the man who saw visions and wrote These are they who have come over a great tribulation. I achieved a childhood dream—returning to Howard, where I roamed High School Student, walking those grounds nearly 20 years later. Even now, as I put this into words, I feel no shame in the pride it brings. It felt like a leap into the unknown, driven by the hope of freedom and the belief that it was aligned with my calling. I am surprised that after years of being told to get my degree, I need this information only to be told that I must also change my appearance, saying I didn't appear to be a man of God. My simple question? What does any of that Shit Mean? Why, in modern society where there are People who have appeared to be themselves being prosperous, but at your church, they need to look a certain way. The Leap into what I am called to do did not mirror the knowledge I had gained or the spaces I needed to be in. Even the places I interviewed all portrayed strange remnants of biblical capitalism. Institutions that mirrored a false sense of self and Presented a mirage. I am fortunate not to have been employed. I sat in a space of regret and witnessed, within three months, the dream I had crumbled. I was depressed for months and often thought I had made a few mistakes. But these disappointments have taught me valuable lessons, and I am now more enlightened and reflective than ever before. Those I once considered friends became the architects of my character assassination. I thought we shared respect, but they turned around and disrespected my essence. I learned that everything I had built was all a Myth. A great American myth is that Once you get this and kiss the ring, all this is added. The real issue, the real story, was the epic betrayal that felt like something written by Shakespeare or a biblical storyline. Somewhere between losing friends who wanted to conform to fit in a tiny mold for some conjured moment for exposure, which never sat well with me. It never made sense to tear someone down for a quarterly preaching engagement. At that moment, I knew I had gotten into a sudden sinkhole; with every move, I became more stuck. While I sat In that, a very dangerous rage overcame my body. I wondered to myself, Is this what death feels like? it felt like everything was coming to a hard stop. The walls Had closed In on Me, and I felt alive but also dead. I could dream, but those dreams felt nearly impossible. Mentally, I was on an Island with a Basketball named Wilson, and No one could see me. I saw myself standing there, staring at a vast, empty ocean, trying to find anything to hold on to. But there was nothing. I was alone; the only thing keeping me company was this overwhelming sense of hopelessness, Stuck in a loop of anger, disappointment, and confusion. I could see them all going about their lives as if nothing had changed while I was buried in reality. I was living a rerun of a terrible sitcom.


While in the funkiest funk of my life, I went to Cape Town, South Africa. When you land at the airport and head towards the city, you will see the townships people live in. Traditionally, the townships were where people were forced to move during apartheid. As you get closer, you see Table Mountain. Driving up, you see the clouds surrounding the Mountain. The driver said, "You see how the clouds cover the Mountain. We call it the tablecloth. "When I saw this, I realized throughout the space of creation that Even though I am fearfully and wonderfully made, the juxtaposing reality that I was also a tiny speck roaming the earth. Just that thought alone helped me redirect some of the emotions I felt. I was withdrawing from the floating death and the loud silence of exclusion. I took a deep breath, and for the first time in a long while, I felt the sudden smell of an earthier, salty smell; I felt fresh, and I heard a quiet whisper telling me to go and do more. I didn't just witness the tablecloth on Table Mountain from a distance. A few days later, I became engulfed in the experience. It was one day when I attempted to cleanse myself of the death that I felt around me. I went up to Table Mountain and told a friend I wanted to leave every negative emotion I had toward the last few months. I wanted to forgive the people who lay weight in makeshift courts, determined to crucify me. The day was clear, the sun high and unforgiving, not a single cloud in the sky. I made it to the mountaintop and looked over and saw trees. It was a sweet-smelling set Of flowers and animals; I felt I was breathing and more alive than before. As soon as I turned around, the tablecloth I saw had taken me whole. My head was in the clouds. I started to talk to God. You could not see anyone's head, just clouds, Legs, and shorts. I cannot say that the emotions went away; I cannot say that I saw my clarity. I know that I talked to God in the clouds. At the end Of the day, I did my form of a wudu cleansing in the Atlantic Ocean, saying Prayers to those we lost on the Atlantic floor and watching the sunset at this moment, knowing that a rebirth was possible.


This experience has been anchoring, a bridge of all the things that seemed quite impossible for the next eight months, which came with an amount of grief that I wasn't prepared for. Losing my 35-year-old cousin out of nowhere. Losing a loving professor. For the most part, and until this moment, it's the statement that it's all a part of God's will that leaves me often in a series of Questioning my existence. If it is a moment in which you are here and gone within a moment. Why can't it be God's will that I live more in the moment? Or God will that I enjoy pleasure, why not be married? Or maybe it is God's will that that whole experience of not getting a job or discovering how much people will do to drag you down. Can it be in God's will that I show up as my authentic self and be okay with people sometimes not liking me? I wrote all of this just to let you know. The pit, the whole, the lies, the two-faced, and the backstabbing all lead to your Rebirth into the gift you were made to be. At the end of it all, I’ve learned this: every lie, Judas, and pitfall leads to rebirth. And through that rebirth, we become the gift we were always meant to be. So, 32 wasn’t the easiest year, but it was necessary. And as I step into 33, I step into the full embodiment of my new purpose.



.

13 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All

Comments


Post: Blog2_Post
bottom of page