'Till Death Do Us Part...July 15, 1999

'Till Death Do Us Part...July 15, 1999

When The Goddess and I decided to get maried last fall, we had a vision of the kind of ceremony we wanted: small, intimate, candle-lit at dusk, over looking the water, spiritual but not religious, Celtic. We planned to have only close family and friends participate and celebrate the joyous occasion, marked by the cooling breeze of a fall evening, punctuated by the imminent natural beauty of changing foiliage. Her mother is responsible for providing us the atmosphere, ambiance, reception, and more, our fathers are going to play their instruments, my cousin is going to sing, my neices and nephew are walking down the aisle with us, my sister is Master of Ceremonies, our best friends are our witnesses. To me, just invisioning the way it will be is an image that I would have difficulty conjuring up in a lucid dream. In the eyes of The Goddess, it would be perfect only, and I do mean only, by wearing her late grandmother's wedding dress. To me, having The Goddess in my life has already made it near perfect, with the exception of the pitter-patter of tiny feet wobbling across the floor, searching out Mummy and Daddy.

Alas, it is not solely vanity that motivates her desires. She was very close to her grandmother, who died only recently. Her grandmother was a very spiritual person in her own right. Even all those years ago, it seems as though she chose to wear something knowing on some mystical level that perhaps it will be needed again, perhaps she would have a granddaughter whose spirit mirrored her own, reflected in a distinct, elegant, nonconventional full-length piece of fabric. Nevertheless, while her grandmother may have been delicately proportioned, The Goddess is not.

I received a crisis call from her this evening. Through immense sobbing she told me that the dress did not fit. Although not a large woman, her shoulders are broader, and she is more curvacious than her grandmother was. She thought shedding a few pounds would make a difference. It has translated into disappointment in herself, triggered body image issues, and marred her childhood vision of uniting with her Prince Charming. I can share in her disappointment in its own right, but there is little I can do to ease her pain, as one's image issues can only be resolved on one's own. I told her that I was not marrying the dress, but the soul of the woman inside that dress. Beauty is something that a dress cannot provide. Beauty resides in the soul, to be radiated outward, touching off sparks of intense joy, delight, and pleasure in the beholder.

Blessed be, I am infatuated with her soul.

Despite the disappointment, I am confident that the spirits will take care of her with respect to what she will adorn herself with. I hope she does not lose sight of this. It is easy to get caught up in wedding stereotype hype.

I received email from my friend Alyx this afternoon. For a plethora of reasons, he has decided to give his marriage another try. The one reason that matters most of all is that he wants to. It is that simple. He has that right. Family breakups are tragic for everyone involved. However, it is just as tragic for someone to feel trapped in a relationship they no longer want to be in. Only that person knows in his heart what is the most self-caring course of action. Only when we are coming from a place where we are honouring our spirit can we do honour to those we love and care about. You, and your family, are in my thoughts, Alyx.

...Blessed Be