Rest is Resistance

Today for the very first time in a long time, I rested. Really rested. I did not leave this room at all today. I sat mostly in silence, with my prayer journal occasionally with slight music. I prayed, I reflected, I laughed and I called friends who I haven’t checked up on in a long time. These past 8 months have been a real whirlwind, my dreams started coming into reality. Last year Dec 23, 2019 - my life flashed before my eyes again when I was involved in a car accident with my grandmother. This is not the first time I ever encountered with death, but I knew at that moment, life is so short. 2020 has been a raging metaphor of that. I’ve had some great W’s but also some great loss - family passing away tragically, conflict, disappointments of not being casted, witnessing political change, getting arrested with two friends who stood by me and all my black brothers and sisters. I have held on to faith tightly. In spite of my positivity, it’s faith. I do my best to be authentic as much as possible, I fail and lose all the time. I desire to live out the gospel, I fail miserably. I welcome and embrace all uncertainty and I fail miserably.


I was asked last night by my great friend @this_land_is_ur_land how’s my heart. Candidly my heart has been filled with joy, pain, sadness, resentment and confusion. Sometimes I deal with acute imposter syndrome - despite everything that I have been blessed by God’s grace to accomplish, there is a voice in my head that says “you don’t deserve this and you don’t get enough respect as you should.” The ego creeps up and I do think, selfishly that I don’t enough credit for all I have done. I would like to think that for my young age, I have done some pretty dope stuff. Again, that’s the ego - because quite frankly it’s not about me, it’s about the gospel. That’s why I do my absolute best to give flowers to everyone I can. Whether it’s two seconds or 24 hours, I want people to know that I see them and value them; because of who they were created to be. They are a literal reflection of God. I will never paint myself to be a perfect man.


I will never be perfect, I don’t want to perfect. Again, I have failed multiple times and think that I wear my emotions on my sleeve too much or that my dreams are too out there. But again, I must always check my privilege - my advantage as a Zimbabwean-American, Christian, Heterosexual, able-bodied and mentally sound male. I count my blessings. All I want to do is to shed my privilege - to listen to those whose labels by society leave them “outcast” - to lift their voices the best way I can. Not alone, but in unity.

I end this to say, as a spirit having a human experience, how I end my conversation with my great friend @mxrysee “maybe I’m just crazy”

Obediently yours,

Tanaka Isheanesu Tava

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