Men + Myself + God

Tag: Jesus

Quickie: Iyanla, Fixes Lives

by P. Braithwaite

“Think love. See love. Invoke love from the attic of life. You are in good company, you know. You have lots of support and assistance. This is where Christ loves. This is where Buddha loves. This is where Krishna, Muktananda, and the archangels Michael, Ariel, Uriel, and Gabriel live. This is where the wise old grandmother’s live, the medicine women and the healers. This is where White Eagle lives. This is the realm of Spirit. This is the highest faculty of your mind. When you make it though all of your human stuff to this level of consciousness, you are keeping company with the masters. You, my dear, have become the light of the world — the loving light. I beseech you to do everything in your power to let your light shine.”

-Iyanla Vanzant

My Faith Manifesto

by P. Braithwaite

A few weeks ago I set out to create my faith manifesto because I’ve been putting off articulating my faith (both to myself and others) for a while. I’ve thought about it, the universe has given me quotes and fodder, but today the words poured into my head. They actually kept interrupting me while I tried to read, so I’m letting them out to share with you. Hopefully, in publishing my faith manifesto, I can move forward with my projects, find clarity around my spiritual partnerships, and essentially…stop apologizing for not being Christian anymore. Shit, today I stop apologizing for being myself.

A Manifesto on My Faith & Belief in the World

When I was a kid, there was a song we’d sing in music class, “…and they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love. Yes they’ll know we are Christians by our love. We are one with the spirit; we are one with the Lord. We are one with the spirit; we are one with the lord. And we pray that all unity will one day be restored…yes they’ll know we are Christians by our love, by our love. Yes they’ll know we are Christians by our love….”

I’m not a Christian anymore because, somewhere along the line, my experience of Christianity seemed to stray from this song. If my experience mirrored the song, I’d probably still be a Christian, but I’m not. Love is my only religion. Unity is my book of choice. My heart beats in synchronicity with The Source, The Universe, a God beyond my understanding…

And they’ll know we are Christians by our love…

In the wake of loss, and a bit of loneliness, I have discovered that I am following the path of the spiritual warrior. I am following the path of the mystic. I am following the path of the Shaman. I believe in communing with the unseen, I wave my wand and create beauty from ruin. I am a student of Ganesha, I am prayer partners with Jesus, I picnic with Buddha under the Bodhi tree.

And they’ll know we are Christians by our love….

I am typing to catch my breath. I am letting my fingers talk thru me. Today I am transcendent. Today I am free. Today I am unencumbered. From this place, I am certain I can heal the world. Do I need a religion? No. I am embodying the shoes of the mystic today. I am coming out of the closet as a believer in life, a believer in death, a believer in the seasons and cycles of all things. I believed in Santa Claus until I was 12; I am certain that I will believe in fairies and angels until I die. They will greet me when I die – along with my grandmother, Old Dirty Bastard, and Marie Antoinette.

I talk to plants. I hug trees. I hug hammocks and warm mugs. I believe God lives behind the eyes of every living creature. I believe, in another life, cats ran the world. I seek the face of God in everyone I love (and even those I hate). I am a writer – I read my poems to Rumi and Hafiz. They edit my lines, reorder my footsteps – my life is a thesis and they’re perpetual advisors. They wrote love poems to God, I write love poems to lovers: to men on moons who are gone but not forgotten.

I love lovers like they are God, and, today/in this moment, I vindicate myself — this is no longer my crime.

Today I become myself, and unequivocally state that I believe in humanity. I believe in the nature of life. I believe in the unyielding beauty of all that surrounds me – even when it’s dark and I’m scared as fuck. I believe in alchemy, in turning water into wine, and heartache into beauty. I believe that all things rise and fall like breath and heartbeats. I believe in resurrection, reincarnation…recycling…

And they’ll know we are Christian by our love…

I believe in Jesus — both the long haired white dude and the black man with dreads. I believe in miracles, and all courses designed to help us make them. I believe in community and in surrender, in the right to bear souls, and crosses, and arms, and great books.

I believe in my ability to write, to teach, to give, and to share. I believe in public vulnerability.

I believe in peace and in pornography — in the beauty of destruction, the energy of anger, and the power of complete submission.

I believe God is happiest when we worship one another.

I BELIEVE this has taken me so long to write because my kind of faith is scary. It lives everywhere…in every single drop of life…in every mystery of death. I have gone on a witch hunt to find it. I’ve freed the witches, captured my faith, and now I set it free. It lives in crack houses, and prisions, and palours and churches…it lives everywhere I go and places I dare not.

My faith is much stronger than me.

Today, I declare that I believe in myself….and I believe in you, both you that I know and you that I don’t. I place faith in the you that you keep from yourself. I love you with all of my heart (my faith dictates that there there is no other way to love). You are not alone. I am not alone. Today, full of faith…I drop down in adoration and marvel at the center of myself — at the universal center that connects us all.

In the future, when asked by lovers and friends where I place my faith, I will smile and say, “I stow my faith in the spot behind your eyes. In the place where you can clearly see both me and yourself. That’s where my faith resides. That is where God lives, and at my best, that is the place from which I experience the world — the temple in our soul where humanity and God unite.”

Where is your faith today?

Jesus = Homeboy: Surrender, Transformation, and Other Sh*t like that…

by P. Braithwaite

[Happy Easter, ya’ll. Although I don’t identify as Christian anymore, I’m committed to taking my spiritual lessons where I find them. I have lots of reverence for Jesus and the spiritual lessons he imparts.]

So, I’ve REALLY been struggling with the concept of surrender. I know the dictionary definition (verb. yield – give in – submit – give up), but I’m not sure what surrender is supposed to look like.  The whole idea seems opposite of how I like to live (by controlling, managing, spinning, and intellectualizing).

When I imagine surrender, I think of someone just standing there: full of inner-peace, trusting in the universe. I see a naked superhuman hippie playing her guitar in the middle of a war. I think of ignorance and a lack of productivity. I know it’s wrong, but surrender seems like laziness, weakness and an acceptance of failure.That’s just not my style.

(I’m from NY…we like to think we get things done).

Anyway, I’d been struggling with this for weeks when, during Mastin Kipp’s Love Uni-versity seminar (which is awesome, FYI) he said, “No one surrenders completely. Even Jesus, on the cross, yelled out ‘why have you forsaken me.’”

With that tidbit in mind, suddenly surrender makes more sense. To surrender doesn’t require a superhuman sense of peace; it doesn’t mean that you are 150% A-OK w/ everything that’s happening; it doesn’t require a Zen mind, or a heart devoid of anger.  You can be pissed off; you can feel alone. You can be scared, insecure, and ambivalent in a moment of surrender. You can doubt your survival and you can even be angry at God, because surrender isn’t about being anything other than human. Surrender only requires that you admit: “I’m stuck. I have nowhere to go from here. I can’t get out of this on my own.”

Surrender is more about being honest than about “giving up.”

We (or at least I) resist surrendering because no one wants to be a sitting duck. This makes sense: sitting ducks get shot. The truth is, though, that life is one big firing squad. Whether we shake, move, or sit still… we’re all just “passing thru.” Each of us little duckies, one day, bites the dust. So if Easter can remind us of anything, it’s that nothing lasts forever; therefore, nothing can really hurt us in any lasting way. There’s nothing that we really have to “do.” Jesus was nailed to a cross and (according to my religion teachers), he rose again. Why would our path be any different? His story reminds us that pain, anguish, and isolation are passing illusions and transformation/resurrection/change is the only thing that is real. At the risk of repeating myself: Nothing hurts forever…

That much I know for sure.

So now I turn to you, my often-silent friends: What would you do differently if you knew you couldn’t be hurt? How would you surrender?  What is keeping you from transforming?

Happy Transformation Day, folks. (Save me a jelly bean or two.)