Marriage Material

A lot of the things that I want to say about getting married are being waved away by congratulating people. They dismiss the process and its Ok. Perhaps the experience isn’t as deep as I think it is, but perhaps the experience should be taken to its limits because nothing lived marginally in life is worthwhile; sometimes full immersion is the better bet.

So surely congrats are in order, but also some major dramatic text must follow; knowing me.

The Good old rant

I close my eyes and I can hear the voice of Alan Watts, mixed with the voice of one wedding planner. One is telling me that nothing really matters, as long as you remain true to yourself, and the other is telling me this is the most important and defining time of your life. Nothing will ever be the same again. So you need to add flowers and light, and hang angels from the ceilings, or else; doom.

Except this is the third piece of dramatic text I have written, and it still feels too awkward to write; let alone share. Usually my words flow seamlessly, they come out un-calculated and relevant. Most of the times I feel like I’m making sense. Now I don’t.

I’m not making a lot of sense because despite everything, and despite my ability to withstand and accept and embrace imperfections, I cannot let this be imperfect.

I’m not making sense because statistics make me uncomfortable and the odds are not to my favor. I care about marriage and divorce world averages, and I also know how fickle human beings are.

I’m not making sense because teamwork takes effort, and a lot of time I like to do my work alone. Because I pride myself on being nauseatingly diplomatic, but also stubborn in my methods.

I’m not making sense because I could be dramatic and inconvenient, my moods will upset and undermine others’ feelings if left uncensored.

There is so much that doesn’t make sense, and I suppose will not. There is so much intertwined in one person’s struggle, so how do you navigate another person’s?

The Awareness that something isn’t right

My ego gets weirdly awakened when I write those things: Labeling and victimizing, assuming and judging. A recipe for disaster. So, the alarm must go off. Something must be uncovered because our egos are never right.

The Transformation mentality kicks in

I always felt an instant reward, a cognitive rush from turning something abstract into something meaningful for me, and for others. Transformation is beautiful, turning one thing into something else naturally is a very rewarding experience.

So I stop myself here, and I try to recalibrate my thoughts, perhaps lining them in a different way will smoothen out the transformation. Perhaps removing myself from fear, control and dreadful stress will open up my sight.

Shifting into marriage is a transformation; a brilliant one. Making a choice that one person versus everyone else is the partner you want to do life with is breathtaking. Literally.

In transforming material from one state to another, a lot is lost; and that explains the feelings of sorrow one develops. But with loss comes novelty and the space is created for new material to become what it must. So being aware of always leaving space for ourselves and for the other is incremental to reach higher levels of happiness.

So who are we in standing in the way of transformation that is natural in every way possible?

There is love and hope in our unison, and there is space for struggle, the singular kind and the compounded one. We build together what we must, and we let go of forced living. One must learn to be free continuously, and if we keep on learning; then marriage must be the space where people learn how to free themselves and each other. It must be the space for people to work against fixed cultures and dive into creating better quality of life for themselves and those that surround them. I think that is the purpose of picking a partner: growth, creation and soft nourishment of each other’s unabashedly brave spirits.

 

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