I'm not a social media guru. Most of the content I've ever produced somehow makes it way around the world fueled solely by the people I love. It's not uncommon for radio silence to make its way to all of my platforms--particularly when I'm exhausted from my day job.
Every now and then, however, I've learned that it's important to remember who I am, and why I'm here. Most of the time, that comes from being encouraged by something I've written or said.
Hearing and reading your own lessons learned does something. I can't quite put my finger on it, but sometimes, it's just what I need to keep moving forward.
How do I know this? I found a link today to a "Who is Cynae" video I did--something that I had totally forgotten about (shout out to one of my favorite cousins for doing his thing on the video editing).
If you're questioning why you even find the time and energy to keep what you do, I encourage you to grab your phone, hit that camera app, and record your "why." It may not mean too much to you now, but I guarantee when things get rough, and you feel like just giving in to the 9-5 trap of life, your words will spark something in you that will make you keep going just a little further.
Don't quit, ya'll. Keep creating.
There is a moment where vision stops short for those who have never embraced truth.
Just as the rotted apple falls, it clings to the nearness of its tree.
Reality overtakes them who reject its color.
That which is plainly evident to the masses is effortlessly within their reach.
But you, beautiful you, find yourself in the oft' unspoken.
All is clear to you, as it is and will be.
Your light of detail welcomes the everlasting
and there you are
as you should be.
Unapologetic to the easy--
standing firm on the foundation the complex.
May the detailed strokes of your gifted brush withstand the common.
May your heart submit neither to the standard nor the unnecessary chastisement of the simple.
Beautiful you, dear beloved-
never shrink to the madness of the small picture.
How many times have we watched the casket close?
How many times have our hearts nearly stopped beating because of the stillness of death?
We grieve out loud today.
The cameras are gone, now, though.
The horse-drawn carriage has come to a standstill.
We have now left him in his resting place,
And the departed has now begun his new journey.
And we are left standing.
Heavenly Father, please do not let this be another day that comes and goes.
Please don't let this simply be a beautiful funeral program put on display, only to be hidden in between the pages of a shelved book.
Down through the years, the casket has closed on so many others.
But there were no cameras.
Their caskets were sealed to the rhythm of weeping and wailing.
Lowered silently into the ground, the departed took their places in fresh graves dug next to ancestors of their own who were slaughtered in the name of hate.
And their story, seemingly, ended there.
They say this time is different, God.
Lord, have mercy on our souls because we've placed this man in a golden box
We've got t-shirts and hashtags
We've even got media coverage.
We've got allies, now God.
There are words--promises-- to make this seem like it won't be in vain.
And Dear, Lord, I want to believe.
We're crying, but we're marching.
We are weary, but we're moving.
Our hearts are heavy, but we are pushing on.
The names of those lowered, silently, into the earth are now lifted by the unity of our voices.
The energy of those murdered at the hands of injustice, surrounds us.
The notes of the hymns sung throughout the ages allows our ancestors to see this moment through our eyes.
They've been resting; waiting
for this day
for this hour.
for this minute.
for this moment.
May the "God of our weary years..." and "silent tears" meet us here.
Right where we all stand.