T.Notes#58: Lately i've been thinking...

 Sixty-nine million words,

Fifteen life changing decisions,

Seven countries,

And i still haven't found what i'm looking for.

Lately i've been thinking

About what the pinnacle of satisfaction looks like.

When do you know

that you have achieved what your wandering heart is searching for?

I have watched myself every night

stare absently at a boiling tea kettle,

nibbling cotton candy to quench my hunger,

whilst my faith fizzles back and forth like careless steam,

and reckless thoughts of flight teases my mind again.

Lately i've been thinking...

That the idea of being deeply spiritual

is a beautiful thing

But it can also lead you

into some very messed up life decisions.

God save our souls.

I read about how every decision we make becomes part of the story of our life.

They say someday you would like to sit

with your kids or spouse and tell your story.

But you will pause and wonder which chapters are better censored or erased..

Lately i've been thinking...

That it is easy to find laughter.

To find an idea that tickles your soul

And just let it rip - laugh out loud and long

And by God, do it all over again.

So last night we roasted Corn and "Boli'

on a garden spitfire grill

Whilst it snowed outside in Canada

Making mockery of our laughable attempts to recreate childhood memories.

Lately i've been thinking...

That the Bible is full of reckless promises

Never will I leave or forsake you.

You don't even know me

Or do You?

Yet here we are..

Returning every day from your rented life,

To crawl through murky waters

of your own errors and cruel intentions 

To find a sit at the foot of Kings.

Lately i've been thinking...

About how it is easier to worship my emotions

But if you stay long enough

I promise you will hear a quiet voice,

Saying this is the way you should go.

But what about OCD traits which have rudely taken over our minds

Yet time after time,

The same stupid obsessive introspection

Will pull us safely from our own worst inclinations

Lately i've been thinking...

That i still haven't found what i'm looking for.

But hope is the untiring expectation

That joy will come someday.

So I beg you again to consider

That the skies will not fall

The heavens will not cave in.

Oh I wish that you'd breathe

And save room in our wandering

For hope and for tomorrows.

Lately i've been thinking...

Dear Jesus, 

This mind will not let me be

So I have been thinking...

That you play that same song on repeat

Every night tossing on your bed

As if battling with your desperate soul

To accept the uneasy notion

That just maybe

God is intentionally good to you.

Lately i've been thinking.

T.Notes#57: The ones who wandered and wrestled

 =Lagos=

I lost my faith🥀

=Lagos=

I lost my faith

in a crowded hospital parking lot

Clutching final medical results for a dear one

And screaming my lungs

like a badly written script.

=Flight=

Sometimes we take flight🦅

It is not absurd

When life forces you to lose faith

in simple things like

Prayer, hope and a God of justice.

We are only human.

=Accra=

We found a local banku joint🍻

And allowed the day idle away

until the canteens closed shops

and the kitchen stewards exchanged cutleries for stilettoes and flavored condoms.

These are the days of our lives.

=Punta Cana=

Heaven pardon our intoxicated nights🎭

Reggae dancehall, Konshens,

cheap alcohol damning every boundary of decency.

Skin, sweat and inhibited sexuality of total strangers mangled into each other. 

=Paris=

Days we'd go any length to feel alive🐂

As if holding our own lives by its cuffs,

acting out and daring heaven's attention.

Whilst the local choir reminded us in the morning that we were bruking off our souls closer to damnation.

=Wandering home🏚=

Dad used to talk about

making it to heaven

on a broken wing and a tired prayer.

With our multitude of questions abandoned 

this side of eternity,

Doubts and anger exchanged for wonder.

=London=

I found my faith on a rainy monday🦋

It returned bandy legged, sensibly cynical

and no longer demanding the heavens

for my share of the miraculous.

An unsensational type of faith

In an assuredly quiet and sturdy sort of way

=Today=

I am that guy🍃

Who is looking past your kodak charm

To fall in love instead

With the stunning bookcase behind you

Wondering if you read Tozer

And if you are also broken like me.

=Remembering=

If heaven reads a blog✒

Tell Dad that i am the wild one

who wandered and wrestled..

And after all is said, done and broken

I think i am still hanging on

Four years and counting

On a wing and a quiet prayer.

This is remembering.

T.Notes#56: COW (Chronicles of a wrong decision)

 I analysed the Situation,🤓

I took my Shot,🔫

Now i am Screwed.🙆‍♂️

I call this one, COW🐴

aka

Chronicles Of a Wrong Decision🐮

This is a blog of note. It will be brief, honest and uncoded.

Exactly one year ago, i conducted a careful long term analysis of my career prospects. It was honestly going great but the prospects for future pay increases was starting to flatten, which is not in line with my needs. Plus i was conscious of meeting a certain salary target before a certain age.

So i whipped out my honestly impressive CV, concluded a few rounds of interviews and accepted a senior role in a bank. There was a good deal of providence involved in the whole situation, but let's leave that for now. P.S, I really like the defination of providence - protective care of God or of nature as a spiritual power.

From day one stepping into the place, I knew i was going to dislike it and that view has not really changed. I dislike the extreme notice-me politics, i dislike that there are only a handful of black people in the bank.  The WHOLE  BANK - Five black people! I dislike working till 2am everyday and being told we have not met the target.

The only thing i like is the money and the supposed prestige. My linkedin community think i am a big deal but that is so far from the truth. It is a title and it sounds great yes, but the reality beneath the title is a hot mess. I have learnt not to covert anybody's life because you don't know their discontent. I am also thankful for working from home since covid broke out. It has lessened my migraines.

I started feeling boxed into a corner. I hate feeling cornered and i extremely loathe office politics which indicated that i might not do so well here. Born nigerian, i am not wired that way - we are either direct to the point, to your face or there is nothing to say. So less that one year in role, i whipped out that CV again which suddenly did not look impressive anymore. Infact it looked pretty desperate in my opinion. Why do you want to leave your current role less than one year in? Oh, i realised it was a COW decision.🤷‍♂️

It got crazy to the extent that i'd accept any job, even a junior role- just get me out of this place fast! However this time, we are in the middle of a freak pandemic; everyone is looking for a job, so the prospects for me was never going to be good. So after twenty rounds of desperate interviews, nobody was convinced about my blagging on why i will not jump ship again. 

So here we are and I'd love for this story to have a happy ending, but it does not. Sometimes life does not have happy endings or maybe i am simply in that 'in-between' part of the story before it all makes sense. At the moment it does not and my middle name feels like COW. I realise i should be thankful, yes i know that. But there is a certain type of internal turmoil that exceeds explanation or spiritualising. You can't fake happiness.

You know that narrative about how Noah entered this big ole boat and God shut the door, literaly boxing him in - that is how it feels. Shut in with the wolves, snakes and crazy monkeys. I used to imagine if Noah could have opened that door himself to bail out at some point, because it seems like i surely can't in my case. Besides, someone once said 'who the Lord has blessed, no man can curse.' So the reverse is quite likely to be true. An gross exaggeration but you get the point.

So where i am now, you ask? I know that my discontent has given alarming free reins to my excessivess. I am also writing motivational quotes and praying everyday to maintain my sanity. And i stay active like the rest of us professional liars on linkedin. I do believe that all things work together for good. I also know that when we become mere men backed into a corner, you have no choice but the knuckle up and fight. This is what i feel like we are all doing - literally scrambling like rats for the bigger pay cheque. It is not the way to live a life but C'est la vie.

In closing, words can save lives.

Here are some fine words by Kike Oniwinde

Which totally made sense to me:

There is beauty in discomfort,

There is beauty in the process,

There is discomfort in creating comfort.

Remember that,

This is bigger than just you.

T.Notes#55: August (All i've got)

Last night we masked our emotions

under the pouring rain,

as it finally dawned on us

That we are never going to be different.

I pleaded to know how you felt

But you drowned out my piety,

With red wine and that bitter sweet

Leandria Johnson song,

All i got.

Maybe wild souls were never made to be tamed,

Created by design

To amuse the heavens

With their wild wanderings and errors.

Do you remember when we raised our fists to the heavens

And made honest threats to God?

We swore that if he ruinned us

He'd pay dearly for our agony.

God bless our foolish souls

I saw you naked the first time in three years

Alone in a boutique london hotel.

We spoke honestly about our imperfections

About private flaws that only heaven and ourselves know about.

So here we are,

with our mastered theater of external perfection

Whilst grappling inside with

a fckd up mind, failing health

And burnt out spirits buckling under the weight of trying to rise above the impossible.

I guess what i am trying to say is,

I have been trying to get these words,

These narratives entirely flawless for You.

Here they are now

Thirty-something years late and just as flawed as when we first began.

I think...

I think these words are ready now

I think i am ready now.

Where do we go from here?

God knows we can't fall any harder.

And the vessel that he made of clay

was marred in the hand of the potter;

so he made it again into another vessel,

as it seemed good to the potter to make.

Jeremiah 18:4

Written to a late night

background of

Leandria Johnson,

All i got.

These are my T.Notes

T.Notes#54: Taming the Shrew

When something goes wrong,
My default response is to throw a tantrum,
blame God and make rash decisions.
I am working at it.
I want to be like Obama
Unfrazzled, calculated and smooth.
But my blood pressure is like a reckless danfo driver.

A Nigerian military regiment
invaded the Newyork stock exchange.
They marched to my desk wielding big guns,
gave a smart salute and announced to the surprise of all my collegues,
That my father, the president had sent a chopper to get me home urgently.
Aye, put a respect on my name!
All hail the chief!
Daydreams.

I expect God to be my commando warrior
To keep all these madness far from me
Bless me only with beach holidays and margaritas.
Is that even a biblical doctrine?
Instead it seems like heaven is on a long holiday.
Sending me postcards from the Bahamas
Talking about learning to trust in God
Whilst the world and my mind is gone bonkers.

When i finally became a man
I realised how lonely the masculine experience actually is.
It is not good for man to be alone
In his mind or space.
The problem is, men don't talk.
We work, worry, grunt, drink beer and play with adult toys.
Anything to escape that five minutes of painful introspection.
So we trade precious time for five minutes of wonder.
I think men need God more than we realise.

Do you remember that quiet night,
You noticed the neighbour's curtains slightly open.
Curious, you turned off your own lights,
Peered closer and discovered wonder.
This is how i feel about a good blog.
A gentle unrestrained access into an untamed mind.
I need a good blog
One that does not indulge me.

I love when you surrender your mind to a diary
Like a child discovering watercolor in a kindergarteen art class.
And then you become the audience
of your own wild thoughts.
Like lighting a blunt on a lazy saturday,
Fireflies playing on the radio,
And a local girl weaving your afro into bantu knots.

This post is about learning to find quiet.
There is a charming restaurant in the Philippines
It is called "Van Gogh is bipolar'
It welcomes clients to celebrate their imperfections, embrace their flaws,
And light a path to discovering wholeness.
I still haven't found what i'm looking for.
I'm still searching.
I will be found by You.

These ideas are like tiny birds flutterring above my head.
Ignored till they become like pesky badgering woodpeckers.
The penny finally dropped.
I think too much.
I analyse everything,
I worry excessively.
Someone said I simply need to turn off my brain sometimes.
Be still my soul.
But first, let me worry about what i'd do with the silence.

I spent last night memorising famous shakesphere quotes, listening to @BessObarotimi,
And analysing stock market activity
All so i appear wildly intelligent for a client engagement in the morning.
You have brought me to this place
So i look up to you to sustain me
I trust you to sustain me
You lift my head.
My scraggly bantu braided knotty head.

This post is about writing postcards to Jesus
I have a few concerns.
A widowed mother with a failing health,
Mortgages in an economic recession,
Playing russian roulette with a raging pandemic,
And heavy obligations of career decisions.
It is difficult not to worry.
it is tough trying to be like Obama.

These are my T.Notes.

T.Notes#53: Till i see you

My name is T.Notes
I still like good old fashioned
Anonymous blogs
And the quirky people
You meet through them.

I have a reckless obsession
For fine words
Delicately pieced together
To exhibit the wonder of a naked soul.
Can i walk with you.

To those of us who journey
I hope that you find a place of rest
In your wild places.
Away from the unfaithful mob of your own self and life's treachery.
A respite from the tyranny of our wandering minds.
Do you also find beauty in Jeremiah nine?

Sometimes a simple word
Gathers itself gently off the pages of the bible,
Creeps into my soul,
Finds home in an unattended hollow space,
And starts to bud.🌹
Don't leave me.

Some people remind you
In a summery holiday sort of way
That boys still like girls
And girls still fancy boys
In an uncomplicated sort of way
Like velvet chocolates and cocoabutterskin.
This too, is fine.

Somedays there is this deep sense of utter nothingness
It is irrespective of my devotion.
So i steady my heart
Into the refrain of old untiring songs
You are too good to me, Audrey Assad

The control freak in me find it utterly frustrating
That you simply cannot predict life
Some days will knock you off your carefully laid out plans.
In the end we must all bow to acknowledge something...or someone...
Pause.

Mama said good girls don't twerk
And good boys do away with
A pornographic worldview.
Ode to those of us who journey
Breaking sweat and nails to ascent into a dreamy City on a hill

I guess what i'm trying to say is
I'm not sure how you can ache for something
That you don't fully understand
Or hope for a redemption that you cannot see.
But here we are, waiting till i see You.

T.Notes#52: Somewhere in between Prose and Subtlety

My most honest prayers
Are not the ones i ramble in desperation.
Instead it is in these carefully crafted words,
Soulful truths
Nested inbetween prose and subtlety
I hope God reads my blog.

I have been trying to organise this page,
This life...
To determine a singular purpose
A contribution of sorts to humanity
What is your blog about? I dunno.
Untidy memoirs of a beautiful mind
From a deeply flawed man
Who could tell.

Once on a lazy breezy wednesday
I vividly remembered being groped as a child
By an older female neighbour
At first it was uncomfortable
That is as far as most men will tell.
I like my toast slightly burnt
With a drizzle of cheese.

I try to refrain from obscenities when i read the bible.
So instead i try to speak in tongues.
Curse words is what happens
After language has failed to articulate the depth of our emotions
The harvest is past,
The summer is ended,
And we are not yet saved.

You were over there,
I was over here.
Beautifully creative minds
betrayed by these bodies.
Unattended desires
Buried beneath white cotton sheets.
Like a fleeting daydream,
We was here.

Somedays I want to take a long break
From myself, and the consequences of this incessantly wondering mind.
Last night i walked with a slouch
Then a barely audible whisper suggested,
Don't you dare give up!
Hold your head up!

I guess what i am trying to say is
I want to pray tonight,
I ought to pray tonight.
But everytime i begin to,
I see myself.
I know myself.
And this is why the gospel is beautiful.

T.Notes#51: Waiting to exhale

I shared a virtual beer with the boys last night.
We spoke about deep-seated worries and unattended fantasies
Then the ardent atheist amongst us asked if someone would pray.

For sleepless men who stayed up alone,
To keep vigil over a tidy pile of household bills and stress medications,
Whilst glued to watching continued fallouts of a pandemic beyond our control.

Men who'd forgotten how to exhale,
Instead literally holding our breath daily,
Waiting for anything that resembles good news to calm our nerves.

We spoke about sensual distractions whilst waiting for God.
I heard that every man secretly wishes his woman were a little bit sluttier
With wiles to command the attention of gods and kings whenever she rose regally to her knees.

My neighbour will be pregnant soon.
I often wonder if to remind her that the walls are paper thin at night
Or if to give her a thumbs-up for the quality feedback she gives to the good man.

The realities of sex after marriage
Hit most men like a ton of bricks
We eventually all learn the art of subtle negotiation
And how to caress a midnight can of beer.

But shit is fuxkfd up still.
Kay has been a dutiful barber for twenty years
Until his account went into overdraft yesterday
As social distancing rules crumbled his modest empire.

They say God helps those who cannot help themselves.
I never really accepted this.
Afterall our super power lies in fixing things
Until these days of feeling like grounded super heroes
Powerless to affect any of our preferred outcomes.

They say men have been conditioned from childhood to mask our emotions
To live a life of half-truths and deception.
This is manhood
A fine mess of best intentions and depravity
It is complicated.

There once was a King who lived at the edge of madness.
When his demons came to play,
he'd hurriedly call on a young lad to play gentle music to calm his soul.

Last night i dusted off an old album,
Caressed a cold can of beer and said a sincere prayer
To the tune of Fred Hammond.

God is our refuge and strength,
an ever-present help in times of trouble.
This is manhood.
These are my T.Notes.

End

T.Notes#50: Knowing

I asked how they met.
She blushed and admitted
that he'd sent her a direct message,
asking the color of her underwear.

My mind is a whirlwind these days.
I am doing everything to distract my compulsive thoughts
Because I know I am not coping.

I know
That i have f***ed this up
So here we are
In this place, waiting for redemption

How do you manage that deep sickening feeling of regretful decisions?

T.Notes#49: Maria

I once lived with an eccentric old friend
who kept an archive of private diaries for over seventy years.
A reckless collection of trysts, musings and quiet uneventful mondays.

We would often reminisce about skinny dipping in caribbean nude beaches,
Relaxing massages overlooking an indian summer,
And accidentally finding Jesus whilst searching for our own delights.

The last time we spoke, we discussed her financial asssets and private emotions.
She said to me,
When they tell you my time is up,
Don't leave these words unattended.

If you must, then burn the whole thing to the ground
every single word!
I'd rather no audience into my mind
When i am no longer able to defend my best intentions,
lest these pages accurse me into the grave.

I agreed, albeit under the influence of late night prosecco,
and wandering thoughts about
if heaven is only for the simple minded.
Those who believe and persist without question.
Or if there is room for those of us tossed back and forth with storming doubts,

Those who wage daily wars to uphold their own redemption
Living in anxious fear to find out in one eternal moment,
If their unrighteous miniscule faith was enough to bring them home to rest.
Or if their many loose ends shipwrecked faith.

There were days when we tired of waiting for God
So we turned to soulful ballards to attend our discontents
Nights like Lauryn hill, Sade Adu and Jorja Smith.
This too, is fine.

Sometimes the best we can do is sit and repeat the words of a simple song,
Or an easy prayer over and over and over again
Until a random unintended interlude, when it all finally rings true.

By the way my dear friend Maria is well and symptom free,
holed away from covid-19 in a fine retirement home.
Guzzling the occasional jagers,
chatting shit on soulcast
And still checking her blog stats
For that one audience reading from heaven.

These are our T.Notes.

T.Notes#48: Known

Deep inside every person,
is a private sanctum
where dwells
the mysterious essence
of his being. (Tozer)

Try as we may to bare it all,
To lie naked in oneness
in person or in virtual space

We find still only one
who can enter that deep-in core
to establish residence there.

The biblical scriptures
Call that mysterious human entity
as,
The spirit of man.  (Tozer)

This is my simple untheological attraction to Christianity
Yes, psalm 139 gets me.

T.Notes#47: South Kensington

There once lived a cockroach who desperately wanted to be human
So he could see the world and enjoy dinners with exotic beauties just like humans do.

One night he met a witch at a local pub
She listened to his discontent and agreed to grant his wish.

In return for one chaste day as a noble man,
he would be her slave for life,
But he must never fall in love with another - he agreed.

He woke as a young charming nigerian prince, complete with the subtle curse of man.
Tipsy with anticipation, he hurried off in pursuit of satisfaction and found a young Eyptian girl in the city.

Drunk on a cocktail of infatuation
He was mesmerised by her eyes and wanton beauty,
Her skin glistened like a patchwork of mixed exotic heritage.

He whisked her away to a plush hotel
And wasted the day loving* her mind,
talking nonsense* about ancient religions and unattended desires.

As the day drew to an end,
The witch's warning about unpermitted affections taunted his mind.
But by the curious tug in his heart*, he admitted his reckless feelings to her,
not disclosing his bewitched predicament.

She said she was open minded
And would wait for him every night.
The mind is such a delicate beautiful thing -  how easily we taint its innocense

That night he returned to resume duty as a homebound slave.
Knees bent like a dog,
Neck leashed and bowed adoringly to patent red boots.
It reminded me of worshiping the devil.

The witch asked him if he was happy for his adventure.
He admitted he may have found love
But she smirked at his naivety.

Men are such simple creatures,
Their affections as fleeting as a flimpsy skirt blown carelessly by the wind.
She leaned in close with a naughty wink,
Come let me show you.

Enraged at his infidelity
She sat on his head, pulled out her magic wand
And turned him back into a cockroach, then flushed him mercilessly down the toilet.

Dizzy but undeterred, he hurried down the sewer to declare unrestrained love for his Egyptian beauty
But all she saw was a disease infected cockroach.
She screamed in genuine alarm at the sight and stamped on him till he died.

The End.

Ok that was a rubbish story.