One advantage of getting married in your sixties is there’s no parent or parent-in-law creating havoc with their insistence you do it this way or that. There’s no one insisting you invite great aunt Betsy whom you haven’t seen in a gazillion years or that cousin who farts at the dinner table and never eats with his mouth closed.
The guest list is ours to create. So are all the decisions.
Perhaps that is the issue.
We have no one else to blame or judge or complain about. We’re on our own and with less than three months to the big day, there are still a lot of decisions to be made, together. Ah yes, together.
Perhaps that is the challenge. Our intent is to make the decisions together and sometimes, we don’t agree.
Disagreement does not equal rejection.
Tell that to two people embroiled in a disagreement about the ritual they are creating to symbolize their two families coming together. While we both agree on the ritual we’ve created, we didn’t quite agree on how the ritual would unfold.
“I don’t think we should direct it so precisely,” C.C. said.
“I think we must,” I replied.
And the gloves came off.
Now, there is nothing pretty nor inspiring about two mature adults arguing about something that is really not all that important. Either way works. It’s just a matter of perspective.
Fortunately, C.C. is a man of deep heart. He knew when to walk away from the conversation and come back when the waters were less turbulent.
And he did. And the seas calmed.
It did get me thinking though about my victim’s voice.
There is a tape, a litany of sorts, that fires in my head almost instantaneously when in a heated conversation. “I should have known better.”
I don’t initially hear it. It is an auto-response that leaps into the fray whenever I am telling myself the story about how I am being attacked, discouraged, frightened… It has nothing to do with the other person or what is being said, or even what is happening in the here and now. It is always about the there and then, something deeply seated in my psyche’s memory bank of the past that is triggered by present experiences. And it is always from the position of my victim’s voice. My place of, “See I told you so. You can’t trust anyone, or anything. Not even the universe.”
My victim’s voice leads me quite quickly, (can you spell lightning-speed?) to that place where all I really want to do is run away, hit eject, blow everything up and ditch it all to go sail around the world, alone, thank you very much.
The advantage from where I sit today is, I recognize my victim’s voice. She can still create havoc but it is not as long-lived, nor as destructive as it was in the past. Today, when she fires up her tale of woe is me, I am better able to turn her off, to redirect her thinking to what is true and real and loving and caring in front of me. My victim’s voice would have me believe the lie, I don’t deserve happiness, joy, love, or even to shine. The truth is. I do.
We are less than three months away from the wedding. Over the weekend we picked out our wedding bands, bought the fabric to line the tent and I spent some time creating examples of centrepieces for the tables.
We also weathered a storm and though the seas got wild and choppy for a bit, we weathered the storm and are now sailing on calm waters again. The skies are clear and while there’s still lots to do between now and April 25th, we’ve got our boat loaded with what matters most in calm and choppy seas; compassion for one another, a deep understanding of who we are, individually and together, and a willingness to always flow back to where it all begins, and ends, Love.