Words of Love
Teacher, always teacher.
Photo- Marion Asld
“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)
I fear 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 the 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)”
― E.E. Cummings
First couple to arrive and survive. Skill right thurr.
It’s my turn to say goodbye. It’s graduation day, and there is the morning ceremony, a busy afternoon, photos in the rose garden and then a fancy dinner in the Kulturhuset. I have a terrible headache I am exhausted and depleted from lack of sleep and surges of emotion that rattle my being. After dinner there is dancing and writing in books. I dance some and write my last words of love. Then Irvine comes for his last hug and I can’t hold back anymore, I sob into his shoulder. Then Nil comes for his good bye and I am leaking tears from every corner of my heart into his hands that cup my face.
Danika had told us that morning before she recited, 'I carry your heart', about her Yippie goody bye about how she had been on a train and one of her Yippies was chasing it out while she sobbed in her seat. She described this feeling as a combination of the deepest sadness and most power she had ever felt. At 3:00 am I know exactly what she means. I’m trying to be brave in the face of good bye with no promise of a shared tomorrow. But I just can’t , and as I cry through different arms and faces I also laugh and my heart screams and shouts into my ear, ‘your alive, your alive, your alive.” I look out the van window and I am alive, in the fields of the Kulturhuset, in the sky of the early morning and into the highway that carries me away. I hold Levi’s hand so hard into the whitneness of my fingers and reach back to hold the roundness of Oona’s face. Linda comes to hold my shuddering body, and it is here that the reason for this whole year comes to me.
“Why am I here?” I think.
“To be cracked open. To come alive” is the reply.
Our best friend back home explains death to his two young sons, by telling them that it is a transformation a never ending unbroken cycle. We yippies came here to experience life but the other side of the coin is death. One cannot exist without the other, and I see now that this is the last and final lesson of my year here in Sweden. In our basic understanding of loss there is only pain, but I feel now that my loss is multi layered. In my tears I taste the unbound joy of the completing of a cycle, and the transformation of a silenced heart to that of one that cannot stop screaming, “I’m Alive!”.
I understand now that we are all here to quite literally “be alive”. YIP is just one way of falling into this becoming. I want to remember this always. I want to remember that I tasted my power and flirted with ever shifting boundaries, and that my heart is here to feel in order to guide.
Dear Kailea of June 2014, you are powerful, unstoppable and ready. The horizon may limit the eye but that is only because the eye believes in the boundaries that your heart will never know.
Dear Kailea of June 2014, I love you. I always will.
The International Youth Initiative Program
I am a Yippie class of 2013/2014. These are findings, thoughts and captured moments of mine from here in Jarna, Sweden.