Thursday, December 8, 2016

I Do


Going nowhere...isn't about turning your back on the world; it's about stepping away now and then so that you can see the world more clearly and love it more deeply.
LEONARD COHEN

This was in my very-cluttered in-box, this morning, from Gratefulness.org  It reminded me of my favorite song from "Godspell," "Day-by-Day:"


Day by day, oh, dear Lord, three things I pray
To see thee more clearly
Love thee more dearly
Follow thee more nearly, day by day

Day by day, day by day
Oh, dear Lord, three things I pray

To see thee more clearly
Love thee more dearly
Follow thee more nearly, day by day

The song's simplicity and repetition, makes it a chant. And a chant is just what I need sometimes, to help sort me out, drown out all the noise and internal mind chatter, and just settle down.

The quotation reminded me that while I'm a big fan of "going nowhere," sometimes you gotta go somewhere. Got home last night from a 7-day, 6-night "honeymoon" with my husband. We got married in Hawaii 25-years-ago this month, and felt that was worthy of the money and multiple preparations it would take to pull off a get-away like that.

It was.

I won't go into how 25+ years ago I became engaged, but was not formally proposed to. There, in Hawaii, my husband dropped to one knee, pulled out a simple, elegant, platinum band, and asked if he could have the great honor of 25 more years together.

He placed the ring atop the other rings, making a trinity. The past. The present. The future. The good. The bad. The ugly. The richer/poorer. The sickness/health. The better/worse.

My hands ain't what they used to be. 25-years-ago someone suggested I could be a hand model. Today, they are veiny, heavily spotted with age, the knuckles so large I need an "arthritic clasp" to get one ring on. I've never loved my hands more. My hands tell a story. Our story.

We left 85-degrees, yesterday, and returned to 35-degree Portland, where school has already been cancelled, and snow and ice are on their way. We got into our car at the airport, and a tire was flat. Same tire that gave us trouble before we left. Same tire I said needed to be fixed before we go, because I didn't want to come back from a great trip, and have a flat tire waiting for us. Same fight, different version, we've been having for 25 years. 

There isn't a doubt in my mind we'll continue to play this out until death do us part. We are two very different people, with very different approaches to just about everything, with a few exceptions. We are, at our cores, two people who trust and love one another, and take our vows very seriously.

Those lyrics can apply to marriage, too. To see each other more clearly. To love each other more dearly. To sometimes lead, sometimes follow, and sometimes walk along side of each other, through this thing called life. 

Our vows, a chant.