When I was younger I was constantly curious and abnormally creative. My imagination was seemingly much larger than my peer’s. I was always questioned about it and encouraged to use it for my art. Eventually I opted to rely on my skill set rather than my imagination and I am happy about that as there has still never been a shortage of creativity in my life and my hand skill gets better every year that goes by.
There has been growth as a result of gained experience, influence from others, failures, dead ends, successes, addictions left behind and a relationship with God.
Yes, I believe God has gifted me something most don’t have. If you are offended or bored by that, stop reading now.
So, what’s my point? Why am I talking about my artistic talent, the progression of that and its connection to spiritual growth? Because the same factors that have polished my art have polished my life.
My spiritual condition is no exception.
When I was around 16 and a half years old I was severely addicted to heroin. I did it everyday. I did lots of drugs but heroin was the focus. I was living on my own and had no one to really stop me. I remember so many times that I would be in Baltimore looking around at my surroundings and how exciting it was. I watched the people. I admired them. They seemed so unconcerned with anything other than where they were heading. I would watch the cars fly by and embrace the wind from them. One thing about the city that has always touched me is how early in the morning it goes from very peaceful to extremely loud in a matter of minutes. I watched the birds flying above everything and thought about how desirable it would be to live free like that. It was beautiful. Then I would snap out of that and make very destructive decisions. I remember the danger involved in doing what I was doing and how that was almost as desired as the actual drug I was getting. I gained a lot of experience on how to handle myself in that way of life. I remember people showing me the ropes, the same ropes I would later show others. I remember getting threatened by people. I remember weapons drawn. I remember my car intentionally rammed by another car and the circular burn mark their tire left on my driver’s side door. I remember my window getting kicked at a stop sign because “What the fuck you doing here, white boy?” I remember being chased multiple times for many different reasons. I remember cops abusing me. I remember so many things. I remember escaping by the skin of my teeth countless times.
I remember avoiding death more times than any teenager should.
I remember priding myself with the idea that I was responsible for my own safety.
I remember an absence of God. I remember ego.
Today it’s almost the opposite. I have been seeking God not out of pain (which has always been the catalyst in the past) but more out of curiosity. I think my creativity has shifted in me somehow and changed into open-mindedness. I have been revisiting the idea of God and who He is exclusively based on love fueled curiosity and imagination. I have been day dreaming of what it would be like to be even closer to God than I’ve been in the last 10 years. I used to think it was impossible to drift from my idea that I would never truly know who God is; only know He is real and it wouldn’t go any further than that.
I have been speaking with a friend of mine for almost two years about all things spiritual. About an old understanding of God with a fresh pair of glasses on and it has refueled an old flame. Not a flame that has dimmed, but a flame that deserves to be an enormous fire. The kind of fire that makes you shield your face with your inner arm simply from the heat. It’s exciting and just like I have grown my artistic skills after people told me I couldn’t get any better, I feel like I am growing my relationship with God in a way I never thought I could.