I grew up in the church. The Black Church. The Bible toting-scripture quoting-laying hands-Pentecostal-speaking in tongue-bless ya'-church.

I know the scriptures. I know the stories. My mother had me there three, sometimes four times a week, if not more. Tuesday night: Bible Study. Wednesday night: Sewing Circle. Friday night: Holy Ghost Service. Saturday afternoon: Choir rehearsal. Sunday: Sunday School, Morning Service, and Afternoon Service.

By the time I reached an age where she felt I was capable of making my own decisions, she left it up to me to decide my fate: Heaven or Hell. At seventeen fast approaching eighteen I chose what most teenagers at that awkward age choose: freedom; freedom to do what I wanted when I wanted without my mother, my pops, or God interfering in the process. So, feeling completely liberated I set out to make some changes. I dumped the choir, switched religions and began anew.

Needless to say my moms was not happy, at times she would voice her dismay, but she ultimately realized, or maybe even trusted me to do the right thing. At eighteen, despite her never-ending coaxing, I resigned from the church. I had had enough. Enough of the preaching, teaching, and constant reminder: I was born in sin, I am sin, and unless I abandoned everything worldly right then and there, I would forever remain entrenched in sin. For me it was just too much; too heavy.

Soon I abandoned everything remotely connected to religion, including, God. For the life of me, I could not understand him or his quote, unquote prophets. In thier eyes I was sin, an abomination---an anomaly in the Matrix. A man, but yet, not quite a man.

In my own eyes however, I saw something different. I saw a man trying to make sense of a senseless world. A man who wanted nothing more than to be loved, accepted, and acknowledged; a man who searched and fought hard to understand and uphold the truth; a man, blossoming into an even greater man. But how, I wondered, could I ever fight the beliefs of a world filled with anger, doubt, and judgment? How could I ever converse with a god that did not see me, but only my SIN? How could I ever make it to heaven if my desire to love someone who looked like me, was greater than my love to embrace the opposite?

I asked these questions and many more...until one day I stopped trying to have a relationship with God through scriptures, and a Pastor, and started yearning to have a personal relationship with Him. If Adam could do it, why couldn't I? If Moses, and Abraham, and Issac, and David, and Job could, what made me so different? If they could talk to him, hear is voice and feel his presence, then damn' it so could I.

It took some work but I did it. I reached him, and he reached me. And what I have learned has forever changed my life.

I believe we all have the ability to contact God. I believe we all have the ability to hear his voice. To me religion and all its do's and don'ts, cancels that. It limits. It holds back. It says, "All your answers are in a book, and in a pastor." When God says, "All your answers are in me. Just ask, and it shall be given, seek and you shall find, knock, and the door shall be opened unto you."

Hear me when I say: A personal relationship with God is sometimes the only relationship we need...the only one that really matters. Everything else, is a bonus.

If there are questions you need answered, problems you need solved, issues that are burning your heart and soul, then I urge you all to go with-in, because if you don't, you will undoubtedly go with-out.

Toni Morrison warned me, then Iyanla Vanzant. They both told me: anything dead coming back hurts. Yet I constantly find myself revisiting situations that have long ceased to exist. It seems letting go of people and situations that we deem important is the hardest most taxing challenge in many of our lives.

Today, I face mine...

Naturally I resist change. I resist it with every bone and fiber in my body. I resist it because it forces me to deal with the here and now. And as I'm sure some of you can attest, the here and now is not often as glamorous as the before and the 'Oh my God its sooo bright', future. It often requires a great deal of work to cope with the current state of our continuing lives. So the idea of change, whether it's for my good, or detriment, creates a type of torment I can usually do without.

What are you talking about Chris?

I'm talking about letting go. I'm talking about facing the music and your situations and dealing with them as the circumstances warrant. I'm talking about freedom.

For example, about a week ago while having a conversation with a good friend about a subject that did not sit well, another friend joined the convo. For the sake of making this less confusing, let's say his name is Ernest. Okay, so Ernest comes over and begins chatting with us. Now Ernest is substantially younger than my friend and I but in no way any less talented when it comes to holding a discussion. Although capable, he does however, often lack the poise most adults develop over time. Instead of voicing his opinion and accepting the fact that not everyone will agree with his position, he insists almost, that you see it his way, because to him there is no other way.

To further condense a rather long-overdrawn story, Ernest and I ended up exchanging more than our customary share of heated words. By the conversations end I had vehemently instructed him not to speak to me again. I meant it. I felt bad, but at the same time I meant what I had said. A few people who had gathered insisted that we make up, because to them, there was no sense in throwing away a friendship over a disagreement. Usually, that was enough for me to extend my hand and initiate a truce, that day however it would not happen. Instead I offered apologies for my behavior and bid him adieu.

Moments later while walking the streets of Manhattan an anger, like never before engulfed me. I grew hot just thinking about our little exchange. My mind wandered back to all the little nuances I had accepted from him prior to this little skirmish: the numerous times I asked him not to fire a make believe gun at me every time he and I came into contact, to, the innumerable occasions on which I asked him why he was so violent, to which he would reply boldly I am not, while simultaneously acting-out violent karate gestures. The man had pushed one too many of my buttons on several occasions and I had almost lovingly accepted him back. Why?

This is the question I would ponder and ponder until finally it hit me; there were parts of me that still found it hard to let go. Parts that feared the ramifications of such actions. Parts of me that believed people come into your life for a reason, and so you should never, ever, under any circumstances whatsoever let them go---are you crazy? You may never know when you might need them! Letting go means severing ties, burning bridges---which could ultimately forfeit your future! And god knows its better to suffer now than to suffer later…right?

As soon as I realized what was happening, and what I had unconsciously been doing all along I took inventory.

I had been going to the same barber for a little over ten years and felt it completely impossible to change shops or barbers despite the frustrations I felt each time I went. Some innate feeling in me kept me thinking changing would be detrimental to all I knew! This feeling alone kept me going twice a week to a barbershop that was out of my way, and wasted sometimes up to three, even four hours of my time. Soon I began to hate Tuesdays and Fridays because those were the days I had to go to the shop. Literally, I would rush home from work to make it to the shop in time to beat the evening rush. The tension that would build up in me every time the train would experience delays was enough to send me flying into a hysteric fit---I had to get to the shop! I had to get my haircut! I couldn't fuck up!

And then there was my best friend. For years I called him that. Years. So the thought of not having him in my life in that position was way too daring, for I dared not think the impossible. He and I were friends, that's it, end of discussion.

But what about the time he called you ugly to your face, in front of people with the most condescending tone you'd ever heard from him? Chris, you guys are friends, that's it. What about the time he tried to avoid paying his portion of the bill at your birthday dinner while sitting across from you? Chris…stop it now. Or the time, he promised to take care of the issue regarding that other bill? Chris… What about the promises he made to all three of your sisters, and then broke them all, after you referred them to him? Chris! Or what about when you comforted him on all of that shit he acted as if he had no dealings in it whatsoever! Chris listen---you guys are friends---so what if sometimes you feel as if he thinks he's better than you---the point is you're friends, okay! And no matter what, you'll always be friends.

Iyanla once said to draw a line, and then police that line, and do not under any circumstances allow someone to treat you less than the tolerance of that line. I had unknowingly made a habit of allowing others to fall below the line and almost immediately forgiving them. Though the art of forgiving is just: fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on me. Forgiveness requires acceptance, but acceptance almost never equates to stupidity. I had to learn the difference between forgiving and moving on, and forgiving, and playing the fool.

Another mantra states that: people come into your life for a reason, a season, or a lifetime, when you figure out which it is, you will know exactly what to do.

Consciously we know the drill. We know that nothing lasts forever. We know that even our days on this green earth are numbered. We know that no matter how hard we try to stop or prolong the inevitable from happening, happen it must. Happen it will. But, it's not our conscious mind that causes all the problems, no on the contrary, it's the subconscious that's causing all the hell. Somewhere buried deep in all of us is a trait that says: without blah, I am nothing. Without such and such, I can't do it. On my own, I will surely fail. This subconscious beast keeps us fearing our own success. This hideous creature stops us from believing: so long as I have faith, as small as a grain of mustard seed, I too can do all things.

Change is not the enemy, stagnation is. Change pushes you forward, while stagnation holds you back. Change encourages growth, while stagnations croons: you're fine just the way you are. Change says: I can, while stagnation says: trust me, you won't. In the end, change is the only way out.

My resistance to shake hands and rekindle an ill-formed friendship was unbeknownst to me, my way of getting out. For as soon as I did, a new door opened. I was able to see first hand "the end" is not always as bad as people make it seem. The end actually gives one the opportunity to start something else. Think about it, as much as you may have loved that book you just finished reading, you knew once you finished it, you could start a whole new journey almost immediately.

That same theory holds true in life, when one relationship ends, another is almost always waiting in the cut. Will it be as promising as its predecessor? Only time will tell. The key is to give your all at all times, and remain grounded in truth. For therein lies the key to a stress-free, care-free fool-proof existence.

And if by some chance you find yourself repeating the same thing over and over again, relax, it's hard to master all of life's lessons the first time around. Mainly because the experience happens so fast. The objective however is to never give up, and never settle for less than you deserve. If you master that one principle, trust me, everything else will eventually fall into place.

I had to write this. I had to.

I am traveling along the road called Life, and on this road, there are many places to stop and explore.   Many of the attractions are pleasing to the eye.   As I pause, I take in the sights and begin to dissect them one by one, piece by piece, until the knowledge of how it operates fully resonates within my mind.

Once done, I move on to the next show.   But my journey is continuous, stopping only for the moment to learn more about the world, people and ultimately myself.

I stumble upon love early on in life and rush through the exhibit; never fully taking in its true beauty.   And as a result, I misconstrue the meaning.

The first exhibit taught me that God is love. And that he will never leave me, nor forsake me...and he is with me even until the end.

The second exhibit taught me that love is physical, and that though it cannot be seen, it can be felt.   I valued this lesson above the first, because my very first lesson in life taught me: if it can't be proven, it is not so.

The third exhibit taught me that love hurts.   I watched in horror, as innocent hearts were broken all in the name of love.   I watched as people lied in the name of love.   I watched as people suffered in the name of love . "Where was God?"   I wondered as I moved onto the next exhibit.

The final exhibit taught me that love can't be trusted, and that by any means necessary, I should protect myself from its harmful intentions.   For as soon as you let it in, it will destroy everything that you have built up.

The end all frightened me, so I armed myself with the right equipment to prevent love from finding me, filling me, and then destroying me.   And as I walked this road called Life, the exhibits became less and less interesting. No longer did they glisten. No longer did they appeal to the heart of me, for I had no love.   And without love I was nothing.

But then one day I stumbled upon this exhibit that shone like a rising star. As I approached the display, I noticed a sign that read: "Love for Sale".   Odd...from my travels, I had learned that love was dull, pointless and without merit.   But here, right before my eyes, love shone brightly.

I watched in amazement as people walking along the path entered the doors of the tent laden, yet exited free.   A new look appeared upon their face...one of peace, joy and happiness.   I looked down at all I carried, and I knew I would not make it far.   And if I did, it would not be easy.   Curious, I decided to further study this exhibit.

When I approached the tent, I noticed the sign had miraculously changed!   It now read: "Love for Trade".   What? Could this be true?   Even more curious, I decided to ask the retailer.

When I entered the tent, a tall slender man stood behind the counter smiling, while silmultaneously beckoning me to come.

"How may I help you young man?"   He asked warmly.

"Well," I began, eyeing him suspiciously, "I was walking along the road and I saw your sign which read: "Love for Sale".   At first I thought how odd...why would anyone wish to purchase something that causes so much confusion?   But then I noticed all the people flocking to this exhibit and my interests peaked.   When I approached the tent to get a better look, I noticed the wording on the sign changed; it read: "Love for Trade".   Is this true?"

"Yes it is.   What would you like to trade all that you have?" He answered.

"But I don't understand, what will you do with all this junk?" I asked, embarrassed that I had carried around all of this nonsense for years.

He smiled thoughtfully, and answered, "I will return it to its rightful owner.   No longer shall you carry around the weight of someone else.   Your time has come...love has set you free."

I felt the hands of love embrace me.    I closed my eyes as love began to unleash regret, pain, anguish, confusion, temptation, control, lies, anger and frustration.   All of the fear and doubt that filled my heart was replaced with love and patience.    My body felt lighter as my heart wept at the acceptance of peace.   Finally, I was free.

When I returned to the road, love had lifted me to a new level of awareness.   The beauty of what is filled my eyes.   Never had I witnessed such beauty.   Never had I experienced such peace.  

Now as I travel this road called Life I do so with love as my guide. Never again will I allow others to distort the meaning of love, for love is love. Free, and pure.

Won't you trade your baggage today?