Ceremony and the Writing Life

People engage in ceremonies more often than they think, little rituals, or patterns of movement that I would call "ceremonies".  Cigarette smokers are a fantastic example of this.  The way they open their pack, or how they light their cigarette can take on an almost meditative quality.

My writing life is much the same it seems.  There are certain things I need, certain movements I must engage in before I can really get the fingers dancing over the keyboard.  I must have my coffee or water sitting next to the keyboard so I can take a sip as I read over the last line I typed.  I find that I have to know that all my emails are answered before I can free up the mental space to think about something that isn't work.  I oftentimes must have some kind of music playing in the background.  So, as someone who actively practices ceremony, I find it interesting when I have to sit down and write one. 

I had to officiate another wedding this weekend.

This one wasn't a close friend or family member, like most of my weddings are.  This one was an acquaintance, a friend of a friend, and I was a little unsteady on how well  it was all going to work out.  It's nerve racking to come up with the words that will solidify and commemorate a moment as important as a wedding.  These two people were young and full of all the expectant energy of a young couple who is determined, but a little scared, of the future they had chosen for themselves.

They were so earnest, so determined to see it happen.  They young groom prepared all the food for the wedding himself.  He worked for days before the wedding to make sure everything was right.  He was up at six in the morning preparing, setting up, arranging the paper flowers his cousin had made from coffee filters. 

The wedding party was a young lot, rowdy, and bawdy.  Their humor didn't extend much beyond drinking, fighting, and getting laid.  I remembered much of the lines, or at least variations of them, from my own youth and I worried a little bit about the couple.

I shouldn't have.

The bride was emotional even upon arrival, but it was obvious it was because she was so happy.  When I told the groom it was time, his face grew a little dark, but serious and steadfast.  As I walked out of the side room and toward the aisle, I could hear the soft footfalls of the groom and his attendants.  They were dressed sharp in their suits and smiling at the expectant family filling the rows of folding chairs.

The dj started the music and the bridesmaids appeared in the doorway at the head of the aisle.  They, like the boys, were a little unsteady and they rushed down the aisle a little too fast, but they were smiling in their nervousness.

When the bride appeared, she was gorgeous. The groom lit up.  As the bride's eyes glistened with tears, her father handed her over to the groom.  The young couple stepped up in front of me and held hands.  This is one of my favorite moments and the thing that makes me say "yes" when people ask me to officiate.  There is a moment, just after they've arrived at the alter where they will get married, when the couple is aflame with their love for each other.

I pause, inhale, and whisper to the couple, "You ready?"  Almost always they briefly glance at me, suddenly aware that they are not alone and they chuckle.  The groom nods his head earnestly.  And so I begin.

The bride and groom chose to use traditional vows, the "repeat after me" kind.  And when we got to that part, I was surprised by how loud, how strong, and how earnest these two repeated their lines.  There was no doubt, no hesitation, and I suddenly saw them as their older selves.  I was able to see this couple as they would become, a manifestation of their potential as expressed on this day where they created their family.  There is no better seat in the house at a wedding than the one I have. 

I'm proud of these two and I wish them nothing but the best in the future.