A Love Letter to Love

Dear Love,

When you called me this morning Teyana Taylor began to sing to me.  “Wake Up Love” she said as your warm, calm tone filled my ears.  Ahhh, there it is, that security that my soul has felt since our first conversation.  I felt the protection in your voice, and it comforted me as I focused on hearing you with my intellect and not my insecurities.  You called me pretty early so I knew it was something important.  You even vibrated my smart watch to make sure I answered.  “Hello” I said more out of habit than of consciousness. 

I listened intently as you prepared me for the damage fear had left for me in the comments section as I slept.  I hadn’t been resting well and so in a fog of sleep deprivation, I listened.  I listened.  I listened.  I listened.  I listened and out of curiosity, went to social media to see what was so impressionable that it called you to action.

I first read the preface you had written to me.  You started your post by acknowledging the purity in my purpose.  You told everybody that I offered “simply reflections” and expected “no response”.  You told everybody, every single one of those 4,012 friends and however many friends they had, that I only asked that you acknowledge me.  My writing was my therapy, your ear a sanctuary for my pain, my thoughts, my story. 

Fear sat there like Huey Newton in that Black Panther poster, holding a spear in one hand and a gun in the other.  Fear was right there under your words, and it smiled me.  It had been expected me.  I was welcomed with open arms.  A feeling of darkness washed over me and I felt the familiarity of lack and self-doubt.  Fear hugged me with a stench of resentment and a strength that did not allow me to fall as my legs became weak.  I would only become a shell of myself believing that my vulnerability was my tormentor rather than my salvation.  I read the words that fear left for me.  Fear called me a liar, told me that I was not deserving of you or the table that you had prepared for me in the presence of mine enemies.

And as you do Love, you made an observation and spoke to my soul.    You sang me the words that Sister Michelle Obama had written for me to read when I was away at camp.   “Failure is a feeling long before it becomes an actual result.  It is vulnerability that breeds with self-doubt and then is escalated, often deliberately, by fear.”.  Equipped with the blessing of that remembrance you called me back.  I realized that my self-doubt had gotten on those automatic steps on its way up to meet with fear so that the fate of failure could finally take me out. 

A tear fell, “Love, I am afraid,” I cried. 

You kissed my forehead, my mind opened.  You touched my ear with your tongue, and removed the barrier of toxic wax that allowed only destructive sounds to enter.  You rubbed my lips with your words, “repeat after me,” you said.  “Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists.  Herein lies the peace of God.”  It was “A Course in Miracles”.  You embraced my reconstructed breasts and my heart became armored with the protection of my ancestors.  A warrior’s heart.  You knelt and massaged my feet.  “Your walk by faith will be long.  It will be hard.  No matter what, I will always be with you,” you said.

Love is God.  God is Love.  God called me this morning.  Herein lies the peace of love.  I am at peace and know my purpose.  I love this peace.  I became Puffy and remixed my sister’s words from “Becoming”.  Success is a feeling long before it is an actual result.  It is vulnerability that breeds with self-confidence, and then is escalated, often deliberately by Love.

Love, thank you for calling me this morning.  Thank you for waking me up Love.

With absolute sincerity and infinite gratitude,

Claudia L. Shivers