learning curve

the godly union of souls in mutual forebearance with each other's infirmities, 

and mutual stimulating each other's graces--this surely is a fragment of true happiness 

that has survived the Fall.  --charles bridges

marge: homer, is this the way you pictured married life?

homer: yup, pretty much. except we drove around in a van solving mysteries. --the simpsons

with this ring I thee wed, with my body i thee worship, and with all my worldly goods i thee endow.

--the book of common prayer, 1928

what woman, however old, has not the bridal-favours and raiment stowed away, and packed in lavender, 

in the inmost cupboards of her heart?

--william makepeace thackary

so, i'm buying a wedding dress this weekend.  and ordering his ring.  and picking out a cake.  every time i think about that, i have to suppress this ridiculous giggle and squirmy feeling that starts in my toes and runs all the way up to the roots of my hair. i have these intense moments of emotion, where i tear up for no reason, or smile or laugh, or can't sleep. 

honestly, until about two, two-and-a-half years ago, i was convinced i would never, ever get married.  mostly i was sure of that because i was sure there was something really wrong with me, something missing, or not good enough, or bright and shiny and pretty or smart enough to be a good partner.  i had people i really loved and cared about and spent a ton of time would go on for hours about how being married conveys a sense of maturity and adulthood one cannot obtain outside of the marriage relationship.  and i simultaneously agreed and rejected that idea, because i was convinced that i was never actually going to fall in love or get married, and was going to be stuck in some kind of infant-adult hybrid life.  forever.

at some point, and i could almost tell you the date, i stopped worrying about who was going to ever fall in love with me, and decided i deserved to fall in love with myself, as much as i was able.  and once i started down that trail, it didn't so much matter to me if anyone ever wanted to love or marry me, as long as i was loving myself and my life in the best ways i knew how.  i laid down on the floor of my bedroom, and surrendered myself...to Jesus, to the Universe, and to my deepest self.  and i tried to be kind and good, and treat myself the way i treated the people i loved in my life.  i stopped yelling at that face in the mirror, and crying over her in the shower.  i stopped thinking mean things about myself, stopped putting myself in no-win situations (as much as i was able), and really, really tried to know myself in new ways, all the way down to my toes and back up, again.  i tried to see myself as a real person, just like everyone else, with all the same chances and challenges as everyone else i know.  and once i did that, i could have really cared less if i got married, ever.  because my completeness wasn't attached to anything outside myself.  and that was a pretty amazing day.  

and then, on this funny little sunday in may, i realized i was hopelessly, irrevocably, and magically in love with this incredible man.  he walked off my porch, and toward the parking lot, and i walked back inside my apartment, and like some strange and silent earthquake/tsunami/catergory 5 hurricane/wildfire/hailstorm/you-name-it, this altogether familiar and wonderful voice whispered in my heart of hearts "so...this is how this happens.  this is how it was always supposed to happen.  it took every single step both of you took to get here. be here, now. and don't be afraid.  none of this is accidental."  

and so all these thoughts/hopes/plans/wishes i had concocted as a little girl, staring out my window, looking at the pecan trees in our front yard, and imagining what it would be like to be bride found their way back into my head.  and like so much i've learned in my adulthood, the actual doing of the thing is much different than the philosphy of the thing being done.  i can read a book about changing a tire and understand how to perform that task intellectually.  however, and as much as i hate to admit this..., until i'm shredding the knees of my jeans on the pavement, swearing at lug nuts and ragging up my cuticles, and sweating like Secretariat on the homestretch, actually changing the tire, i really don't know anything practical,real or factual about changing the tire.  it's kind of been the same with planning a wedding.  it's been exactly the same thing about pondering and exploring and becoming a wife, someone's partner, someone's next-of-kin, someone's (G-d...So.Cheesy, but true) last call of the day.  and it's not always the way i thought it would feel, or smell, or taste, or look, or sound.  it's better.  because i'm not thinking about it, not imagining it, not dreaming it, not putting together my best guess based on stories i've heard or read or made up. 

 this is real life, every.single.second.  

and it's his, and mine, and ours.  

and i never thought i'd be all gushy and girly over stuff, that i'd be one of those girls who gets all sappy and teary, that i would ever ever ever in a million years be this gaga over a guy.  but i am.     i always thought i'd want some big fluffy white wedding dress, until i realized that was pretty much the last thing i wanted to wear when i marry this man.  i thought i'd want a wedding with everyone i'd ever liked to spend time with in attendance, and gardens of flowers, and a string quartet, and lots of candles, and the london boy's chior, but what i want most is just to see his face at the end of the aisle, and i sort of surprised myself by genuinely not caring about any of the extraneous crap.  but i was still rock solid on the idea of having a cake, because...i mean, come on...there is no dessert better than wedding cake.  and i wasn't surprised at all that i wanted to use my parents' wedding rings to make the ring i will give to him.  i was surprised that i cried when my mother gave them to me, and that i cried when i wore them to church the next day, and sang a hymn that was played at my parents' wedding.  that was mystical and magical and miraculous.  and was another still and familiar voice, whispering in my ear, saying, " this is how this happens.  this is happening.  this is now."  

so, this weekend, i'm buying a wedding dress.  we're ordering a cake.  we're ordering his ring.  and i know it'll be different than i think it will be.  and that'll be exactly what it's supposed to be, because it won't be my imagination, it'll be reality.

and when i hear that still voice, (and it's always a still voice, ringing inside me like a tibetan prayer bowl) inside my deepest self, and i am shaken and steadied by what it tells me, what it reminds me, what is says is real and true and now, i know that now is worth everything. 

and it always was. 

mil besos,

rmg