Rock My Heart
You’re showing your care of me
I bask in your loving arms
you’re wearing me down,
showing my heart your charms.
I was so defensive,
running away from you
afraid of your kindness
and what it might make me do.
Rock my heart,
Rock it gentle and O, so true.
Rock my heart
until I’m at peace with you.
Make it last,
take the future and take the past,
take the blues,
the present, the joy of you.
Your motives are pure and good
loving me like you should
because I’ve been made for this,
made for pure pleasure.
And I surrender,
I take what you’re giving me
I’m seeing it’s loving,
and deepest affection.
Love. Some have it, some long for it, some have it mixed up with attraction. Some dream about an illusive bubble feeling that exists only in the pleasure centre, and some, some have discovered that true love is also in the pain. So how then, is love patient, kind, without guile, gentle, free from jealousy or arrogance, forgiving, and happiest in raw honesty? How, in a world so crushed can love be safe? Do we not all love out of our brokenness?
Ah, no. Love is. It is not a series of things done, a checklist of behaviour, or an emotion to wax and wane. It is Being itself. The verb and the noun. It is both source and manifestation. The moment and all of time. Our acceptance or rejection of it, our redefinition or perception of it does nothing to alter the reality of its pervasive presence. Our response does nothing to change the Being, or the state of being.
So much of how we experience this world is based on our understanding of love in relation to us. Whether we deserve it. If we have earned it. If expressing it is a duty or a pleasure, or simply an extension of effortless flow. The hypothetical ideology we posses does very little to expose Love’s true value in our lives, and our interaction with others is really the only measure of its pervasive power in us. If I cannot accept love without assigning it an expiry date, or an unwritten condition of validity, if I anticipate it will leave should I be vulnerable and open… If I find no joy in love only fear the peace of it is fleeting, I know not Love, but only my wounds.
For many years I was immersed in a culture where love was only one characteristic among many of the Divine. The expression of it was associated more with false humility and self abasement than confident identity and enjoyment of life. One expected life to be difficult, relationships with others to be challenging, pride to require squashing, iron to sharpen iron, and growth to be measured by an external judge. Submission one to another was more about defining an authority structure and bowing to the office of leadership than constructive or illuminating conversation that brought mutual respect and understanding. It was no safe place for self discovery.
But Love is. And Love flows. And Love knew me too. >Love drew me out through relationships and beauty. Writing and Music from my own hand contradicted years of indoctrination and I began to see and feel. Peace, joy, patience, kindness, self control all became happy companions. I felt comfortable seeing people only in Love’s light… empathy and compassion walked everywhere with me. I had no trouble with love flowing out of me. I could give, but I could not receive. I was still expecting love to require sacrifice. Compromise of self. Denial of human need for the greater good.
Being loved and specifically seen or understood was an illusive persuit, and I thought, a ridiculous expectation. Everyone around me was so broken. Every relationship exposed it. Being in them rubbed my scars raw. And there is the rub. O, the necessary cultivation of hard ground that precedes the penetration of moisture and air and warmth required for seeds planted to germinate. I began to see as I was open and vulnerable, that those who needed me could see, and hear, and understand. Not only did the ensuing relationships bring freedom to their souls, but smiles, delight, delight at bringing me a smile. And delight paved the path to true pleasure. Like a seedling chasing the light, I broke out of the darkness.
I was made for pleasure! Life is made to be enjoyed. Anticipated with hope. Imagined with positive outlook. While my body experiences pain, it too was made to be loved and enjoyed. It was made for pure pleasure! I can see, feel the touch of another, smell pleasant aromas, hear music, taste food. I can be in this moment, engage with another human and feel no shame, be uninhibited by fear of vulnerability. I can communicate with clarity, contribute to the growth of another person and expect that the outcome will be positive.
Out of this growth came Rock My Heart. I wrote it in the context of romance because that is where the healing began to surface. All love is surrender to something given. It was my own hand and heart against my mind revealing that in this case, what Love asked was that I enjoy myself in it. Revel in it. Begin to understand the word resplendent in the context of myself. Shining brilliantly, Merriam-Webster says, characterized by glowing splendour. That is me awash in Love. Because Love is gentle, kind, and without guile. It will not boast or envy, or recall my wrongs and parade them about my conscious thoughts. Love will illuminate and accentuate the beauty placed in me and declared good, and I will reflect the glory of Love. I will reflect it most in utter defiance of that which should have broken me by allowing my healed heart to walk through Life with Love and enjoy all of it, with PLEASURE! O, Love, have at me, for in you, I am truly resplendent, truly at home, truly myself. Be free to strip me bare, for none has ever died from such exposure, only healed. Rock my heart, rock it gentle and O, so true…