This solstice, Dana and I celebrated our 6th wedding anniversary. In my heart I've been married to Dana since February of 2001, but the party we threw on June 21, 2003 was powerful event, and worthy of commemorating. I can honestly still feel the energy of those three days echoing in our daily lives.
Marriage is hard. I think a lot of other folks who are or have been married would agree. It takes daily service, sacrifice and compromise. There are countless benefits to marriage, and I've read some science that says marrying the right person can be a giant factor in lifelong happiness. I'm no expert, but I do take my marriage seriously, and I've learned a lot of good lessons from other non-expert friends.
The legal marriage in which I currently participate is an unjust and discriminatory institution. It is absolutely immoral and a violation of basic human rights that American laws deny legal marriage to same-sex couples. Therefore, for the sake of this discussion and in honor of all same-sex couples, I reject the American legal definition of marriage, and I substitute this one: Marriage is the ongoing act of staying in love. This is hard work, and is very, very different from falling in love. Falling in love is mostly chemical, instinctual and situational, while staying in love is practical, challenging and dynamic. For Dana and I, staying in love takes an artistic balance between independence and communication. It takes independence for us to each be out in our communities, serving and being served, and thereby growing as individuals. It takes communication for us to be able to come back together to share what we've learned. This is where intimacy and trust come in, because they allow us to process our days (yes, communication is a daily practice) sincerely. When done well, this gives both Dana and I a stereoscopic view of our lives, and validates our individual growth. This part's hard: intimacy and trust take courage, and the willingness to try again when we mess up (and messing up with my wife HURTS).
Partnership, though. That part's easy, and for this I count Dana and I very, very lucky. We like the same kind of movies and the same kind of vacations (psychological horror and outdoor adventures). We both believe in leftist politics and are very religiously tolerant. All that's just icing on the cake, though. Partnership is easy because Dana and I can stand to be around each other for a very long time. That's the magic, and it's the part I completely can't explain. I like her more today than I did the day I met her, and I find her more and more interesting every day. Although she and I both have alone time built into our schedules, we still haven't found a limit for how long we want to hang out. This magic is worth the world to me, and around it we build a very happy marriage. The marriage itself is far from perfect (we fight about money and sex, just like all of you), but the love at the center of it all IS perfect, and that is more than enough for me.
We went this weekend and backpacked into southern Washington, near the Cowlitz river. It was muddy and about 20 degrees cooler than expected; there were mosquitoes and teenagers (seriously, like 30 of them on the trail). We loved every minute of it. Why? The forest was virgin, and had trees in every state from sprouting to great and tall to rotting piles indistinguishable from the dirt. This is one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. The air is rich and fragrant, and the mushrooms and witches' butter are bright oranges and yellows against the million shades of green and brown. And Dana and I were together, with everything we needed on our backs.
This is, of course, how we met: backpacking the summer I was 15, she 14. On that trip, I fell in love with her strength and sense of adventure, her self-reliance and obvious love for her friends. We ate a fish we caught ourselves for dinner (the rest of our crew was pretty squeamish about this), and we walked and talked a lot, never getting sick of one another. Our best days are still like that: adventure, play, companionship.
So marriage is hard, but partnership is easy. I stay in a constant state of gratitude for this. With just partnership, and never the challenge of marriage, we might never be inspired to grow personally. Without partnership, the sacrifices of marriage might not worth it. As a very rich man, I serve and am served by both marriage and partnership daily. I intend to die peacefully in my sleep, old and in bed with my wife, and that is the strongest, most sincere way I know to say, "I Love You!"
No comments:
Post a Comment