wedding in seven weeks

A wedding isn't a terribly big deal for Timon and I, since we already got married last August, at city hall in New York. Prior to that, we had a very successful honeymoon. I'd been saying fairly regularly over the past few years, "Oh, lets get married!" to Timon. But before that could make any sense, we both felt, for different reasons perhaps, that it was important to make sure that we would be able to change together, to become new people, explore new aspects of ourselves, and that hopefully, but not definitely, our partner would not only accept, but encourage this growth and development. And furthermore, that our partner might too change and grow.

I realize now that this intense desire to change our lives, externally first followed by the internal realizations, lies on a fundamental bedrock assumption that change is always positive, that who we are becoming will always be closer to our true selves, a more honest, bright, stripped-down-to-essentials seat from which we observe life. This doesn't mean that the future will always be pleasant, or obviously good. Rather, it is the most difficult events that I want to be sure of, that I will have the inner resources to face pain and suffering, both my own and others, and to at least learn something from this pain, since its here. Once I accepted that basic premise, when I was 18 or so, that yeah, life fucking sucks a lot, for everyone, everyone, I began to get a little curious about what else was going on within this suffering. There are other things to know, but one never goes for very long before being reminded, oops, that hurts, don't it.

Anyway, what I want in a partner is someone to help with the process of exploration, who also wants above all else, to really know what's going on, and who also has the self-awareness to live with what we find.

So Timon and I felt pretty sure that we each at least have the intense desire to know what being alive is about, and then also a kind of cockiness that we can survive learning it. But still, before we could get married I think we both felt that we needed to go through something intense together to see how the relationship held up, did the relationship also yearn to explore and grow, did our partner want to know for themselves? That is so the key point, that the other person wants, needs, and will go through with life's experiences whether or not the partner is there with them. We aren't so dumb as to go searching for pain, oh no, that comes plenty on its own in much more creative ways than I could presume. In my experience there are two ways to have controlled out-of-control experiences. Hallucinatory drugs, and travel. Both throw you into varying degrees (depending on the amount of the drug and the country) of utterly strange and unfamiliar situations, and then you get to observe first hand what you're made of. So being of the healthier persuation, Timon and finally had the opportunity to spend 3 months in Tibet.

Up and moving to another place for a fairly significant amount of time was something we both wanted, being curious people, and it also was an unspoken test of "us". That blog can be found here. What I discovered: that Timon and I love so many of the same things, want the same experiences. That we both love camping in harsh conditions for weeks at a time. That we both don't mind being dirty or eating the same freaking meal for 14 days in a row, often twice a day, if it means being out in the world. That we don't assume poverty=misery or money=happiness, but that all four of these things are intricately related in subtle but vital webs. Also, and most important and clear very immediately, I realized that our essential dynamic was so much the same in Tibet as in New York that at first I felt a teeny bit disappointed, followed by a kind of awe. Our relationship, as it stood distinct from either of our individual selves, was alive and functioning whether or not we thought we were in control of it! I'd only ever found that kind of reliance on myself before - as I traveled and lived and changed my external circumstances, I found that a part of me was constant and was in fact very very reliable, despite my inability to articulate it. To suddenly discover that something else in this world held a crumb, a pinpoint (but so very bright a pinpoint!) of reliability is a marvel to me.

So with this knowlege in tow, we returned from our summer abroad to Manhattan, lovely Manhattan with its incredible food and outrageous expenses, and within three days we took a cab to city hall with Josh (it could be no other) and suddenly we were married, and it was August, and I was 27 and giddy with delight. What a pleasure to try on my new identity in a city who will take you however you are, a city that adapts to your life changes faster than you can, to a city that embraces every day as a new evolution in your relationship to the world. And then we told our families, and then we moved to Westchester to be a teeny bit closer to nature, and then we planned a party.

And now that we're married, I still feel great delight in saying, "Oh, lets get married!" to Timon, to somehow express that momentary awareness that all is well with us, and lets just sail off together somewhere new and adventurous, partners. Marriage is an adventure, or rather, life is an adventure, and marriage is having a good first mate to share the details with.

And now I'm getting more settled into the wedding idea, envisioning myself unstressed and relaxed and throwing a good weekend gathering where people are young (at least youthful!) yet adult, sophisticated and laid back. I'm feeling that I can pull the hostessing bit off. Funny, but my clothes are what really let me feel settled. I can just put on my costume of casual classy new england beach wear, and then I can play the role easily. I guess my mom being a drama therapist is paying off.