Conversing about the small things

I have suddenly felt the urge to leave here. To travel the world - if not my very own dwelling. I feel the need to seek solace in another place. I have a meek happiness in the place where I am at now. My family is my love, church has suddenly become a cozy cushion I call home, my friends are those arms that I don't mind have wrapped around me. I know that God is everywhere (omnipresent), he dwells everywhere. My fear is not that he will leave me, but instead that I will leave him.

So far it has become a struggle for me to hold on to him. Again, not that he is leaving. I doubt him at times, when in my heart I know that there is no room for doubt. There is no place for doubt or fear. Faith sometimes takes more work than the word allows you to know. Faith is a word that is easy to pronounce - it flows like water, but a word that is hard to turn into a verb. I struggle sometimes to turn it into a word of action and not just an element of description.

I know that if I embodied the true "faith" that I needed, then I wouldn't feel so defeated at times. I do not believe this way all the time, but there are times. I do think that in my small monument of pleasures I can seek and find all that I need already in my space. I think that somehow I have everything that I need to survive in this world - this world catered to the celebration of someone else's downfalls.

I have also come to find out that my space is too small. I mean every space that I own is entirely too small. My room, my car, my desk, my mind, and even my personal space. I find myself backing up when people are standing too close to me (my idea of too close). I find alone time with myself relaxing and peaceful. When I am in my space with myself only I am able to search my own heart with a fine toothed comb and I never come out of that space or that place empty handed. I don't mind the social hour with friends or family - I find amusement and love in them.

I can assume that my heart is lacking in other places. Though I find myself pushing away the idea of male companionship. I find them most repulsive. Maybe because none of them are what they can be. None of them are what they should be and I truly think that I am disappointed in them at this time in my life. Where are the self aware black men. Aware of their surroundings, their history, their futures, their mistakes, their accomplishments, their spiritual being. Where are they? Too many of them are seeking refuge in sex. Sex that is ultimately deemed cowardly. To hide in the essence of someone- else's truth and use it and dare not to love it is mere cowardice. REPULSIVE!

Then again it could just be me, with a high standard. Not just for men, but I guess for everything. So high I could barley see it myself.