I’ve been doing a lot of driving lately, which means lots of time listening to the radio. Last week I almost drove my car off the side of the road as I searched for a pen and paper to capture these lyrics: “Love is an ocean wide. Let’s swim in the tears we’ve cried.” I don’t even remember if I liked the song. I just loved those words.
Swimming in love—in the painful, beautiful, peaceful, sometimes tumultuous ocean of love. I get that. I do that. I feel like love is expansive in my life, like it spreads itself out over my past and reaches promisingly into my future. I feel like love is something to dwell on, to soak in. I feel like love is something you can float on—not a quicksand that sucks you down but a salty sea, lifting and enabling.
I remember how much I loved being in water when I was pregnant. I constantly felt weighed down, heavy as lead, but in water I was weightless. I could move. I was free.
Love is freeing. Being in love, among love, allows for honesty and vulnerability. We can be who we are and do what we do, no reservations.
I love that the ocean in those lyrics is made up of tears, that the whole ocean of love is comprised of our most emotional experiences. And that instead of avoiding those parts of our lives we should swim in them. The times we’re most sad and the times we’re most happpy, those are our crying times. And, almost exclusively, those tears come from the heart—from a broken heart poured out or a full heart overflowing.