Next week I’m in the wedding of one of my dearest friends on the planet. She has asked me to read Sonnet 116, during the service – her favorite sonnet. It’s one of my favorites too.<\/p>\n
I am honestly frightened. I “rehearsed” it this weekend, by myself. I went through it, a couple times and found that I was unable to get through the first two lines without feeling an alarmingly huge lump of tears rise in my throat.<\/p>\n
I mustn’t be a crying bridesmaid. <\/p>\n
It’s not that I’m sad or anything. It’s just those damn words.<\/p>\n
“it is an ever-fix-ed mark…”<\/p>\n
It feels more like a visceral response (the tears) rather than anything connected to a specific circumstance … Merely SAYING the words brings up this durn lump in the throat.<\/p>\n
So my project for this week? To repeat Sonnet 116 (which I know by heart anyway) over and over and over and over … and cry if I need to … but perhaps by the 54th time I recite it, I will no longer feel this scary urge to weep. Repetition breeds familiarity which breeds calmness.<\/p>\n
Breathe. Breathe.<\/p>\n
“Let me not to the marriage of true minds admit impediments…”<\/p>\n
sniffle, sniffle …<\/p>\n
Repetition will save my ass. This is my hope.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Next week I’m in the wedding of one of my dearest friends on the planet. She has asked me to read Sonnet 116, during the service – her favorite sonnet. It’s one of my favorites too. I am honestly frightened. … Continue reading