Today my dear friend Tony asked me to read the e. e. cummings’ poem I carry your heart with me at his marriage ceremony to Michele. What an honour!
We talked about how best to read the poem with all its unconventional punctuation. In the end we agreed that it was for me to do it in my way. “Speak from your heart” Tony advised, “speak to whomever you want to say the words.”
I readily agreed but thought little more about that advice until I remembered the work Ann McMaster my coach (always a good thing for a coach to have a coach!) had done with me yesterday.
I’d been telling her how sad I’d been as a little girl, and how the emotional pain I felt at that time is re-lived whenever I unconsciously go back to the early beliefs I put in place then.
We agreed that only one person can relieve that pain once and for all. And no, that’s not my partner. Nor my friends. Not even my parents.
It is of course me. It was my mind that took on those scary beliefs as a modus vivendi, and it’s for me to consciously reassure little Lou that all is well.
Suddenly it’s clear to whom I will dedicate my reading: that curious, cheeky, sensitive four year old. And how doubly fitting I do, given that this poem’s author would often pray for the strength to be his essential self.
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that’s keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)