:: how to be happy ::

okay, I promise nothing. e. e. cummings doesn't promise anything, either, but his poem "anyone lived in a pretty how town" offers some insight. 
       "anyone lived" is a sweet love story and a commentary-on-life, following a guy named anyone -- and noone, the girl who loves him. 
       anyone is rather a free spirit. he isn't like the other townspeople: he's lighthearted, he sings and dances ("...through life, swaying and sweeping, and always keeping cool..."). for this childlike delight, "women and men" care "for anyone not at all." this describes their behavior in general: they don’t care for anyone (the man) nor do they care for anyone but themselves. life moves in a circle -- sun moon stars rain -- as they plod along, sowing and merely reaping what they sow. I think the poem is supposed to begin in spring -- which might even figuratively represent anyone’s age. he is young. his life is just beginning.
it’s summer; anyone has grown. children are the only ones who understand him, because they haven’t lost their wonder of life yet; for that reason, some guess that noone "loved him more by more". but they grow, and like the people before them, forget what childhood was like. 
as the year progresses, noone continues to love anyone, to "laugh his joy" and "[cry] his grief". his ‘any’ becomes her ‘all’. time passes; others marry (as do they?) but others are willing to say their "nevers" and let go of their dreams, only dreaming while they sleep. 
why are children so "apt to forget to remember"? who knows. it is a secret that "only the snow can begin to explain"…but it happens. autumn passes; winter comes.
anyone dies.
noone, out of all the people, stoops to kiss his face, and "busy folk" -- who rushed, having other things to do -- buried them side by side. yet even in death these two "dream their sleep": the opposite of the madding crowd, who "sleep their dream". noone and anyone were happy, because they loved and because they hoped, in a way that none of the townspeople could ever understand. 
once again, it’s spring. "women and men(both dong and ding)" reap what they sowed; they live, they die; they don’t realize what they’re missing. and the cycle continues.
sun moon stars rain.

--

e. e. cummings was, I believe, making a point about the way we tend to live. somewhat of an outcast himself (at least, a man who polarized people), he could probably relate to his character, anyone -- who lived his life being himself, something cummings strongly desired to do. isn’t it true, though, that we tend to always be busy, always doing our duties and completing our tasks, without any consideration of the wonderful things around us? "sun moon stars rain"... when was the last time you sat outside in the sun, just letting it warm you? have you gone outside at night just to look at the moon? do you ever marvel at the beauty of the stars, or looked out the window at the falling rain? if cummings’s point was that we don’t slow down and appreciate life enough, I think he was right. there is too much to see out there for us to live life with our eyes shut.