In the birthday card I gave my husband this year, I couldn’t help but mention that when we got engaged and then married, he could not have known the people we would grow to be.  Yet here we are thirteen years later, eleven of which have been in marriage (as of tomorrow).

I heard a statistic that if you make it past the first seven years of being married, it’s like making it over the hill.  Then, of course, you hear of all these marriages that crumble into divorce after up-teen years together, even 20 or 30 years.  What makes a marriage stick?

*Warning: These are non-clinical hypotheses, just a lay-woman’s view.*

Marriage takes a constant flow of energy.  Hopefully this energy is given and received, given room for expansion and contraction, and allowing room for growth and change.  Oftentimes, this means we have to work at it, we have to give a little push or pull.  Some of us need lessons, as if learning to dance; each learning how to lead and how to follow.  As long as we’re willing to work together in our relationship, it can thrive amazingly in any circumstance.  It can look beautiful and effortless, even be so.

There are times, however, when the flow is broken.  It can be tragic or necessary.  When I say necessary, I mean as in cases of violence (physical or emotional) or cases of distrust.  Some say time heals all wounds, but some wounds are too vulnerable for constant exposure and need to be out of a situation to be given opportunity to heal.

I consider myself blessed to be in a loving flow of energy with my husband.  Even as we’re growing into who and what we want to be when we “grow up” and feel some of those growing pains, we’re in it together, aware of each other as individuals and as a whole.  We are dancing, however awkwardly.  (Given our height disparity, this is a particularly funny image to me!)

This same philosophy on sacred marriage can be applied to any relationship, however large or small.  If we can be conscientious of the flow of loving energy with others, our capacity of respect and growth is amazing.  But sometimes the seemingly smallest infringement creates a dam to the flow, and sometimes even humility isn’t enough to mend.  Sometimes paths have to diverge, change course — often for the better.

Marriage is work and not work.  Marriage is sacred, and like all sacraments, there is a great underlying Mystery at its core.  What better ground to dance upon and with and through than that of Love?

Here’s to many more years of beautiful music.

Like “don’t sweat the small stuff,” “one day at a time,” and “just do it,” there are slogans that some of us live by and work with.  In the current chapter of Finding Water that we’re reading, one of the mantras is “easy does it.”

Have you thought about how or when you use this phrase?  When I say “easy does it,” I really mean, slow down, do this slowly and carefully, and don’t rush it.  I only ever use it in the circumstance of some physical exertion.  If I think about what it says . . . what does it really mean?

Julia Cameron makes a case that it means if you show up daily to your artist’s work, do a little at a time, don’t obsess about it, don’t become all-consumed by it, then you will get it done eventually.  Taking it easy gets the work done. If I apply my meaning of the phrase to artistic endeavors, I mean the same thing.  Slow down.  Don’t rush the process.  Show up to do the work and let the creativity flow through you.

This doesn’t mean that every time we take time to do something artsy that it will be brilliant, but it also doesn’t imply that we have to be in the “mood” to create.  The more we create, the more we make ourselves available as creative channels, the more likely we are to have the strokes of “brilliance” and to see the Divine reflected in our works.  Days or years later when you reflect back on your work, you might be amazed that you really did that, that you really were a channel of the Divine, of Spirit, of Creativity.

I hope that, like me, you can accept the challenge of assuming a mantra like “Easy does it.”  Pick a hobby/craft/art that you want to do, need to do, but don’t make the time for because if you got in “the zone,” you might neglect everything and anything for your art.  Now, make a contract with yourself that you will set aside, say, 20 minutes a day to devote to your “hobby.”  Take a mommy-time-out if you need to.  I am today to write this. I told my kids it’s still quiet time until I’m done writing.  We have to teach by example, my friends, and then we have to respect their time in return.  Don’t expect it to be easy the first few times, either.  (I counted four interruptions from three kids.)

Twenty minutes a day, consistently if you can.  Be open.  Have fun.  Let’s give Creativity some room to move.

It was my pleasure to be at a weekend women’s retreat this past weekend, to go away to a mountainside campground, share a cabin with amazing women and experience the presence of Love.  Episcopal women really do have some great times, and I think it’s made even better by the depth of conversation.  We’re really not all that much into small talk.

The term “legalistic” has come into my consciousness these past couple of months, particularly in contrast to “spiritual.”  Why is this so?  What do I have to learn from this distinction?

According to Merriam-Webster, one who is legalistic is one who adheres to moral legalism,  “strict, literal, or excessive conformity to the law or to a religious or moral code.”  Whereas, one who is spiritual is one who is “relating to, consisting of, or affecting the spirit.”  When I looked up the definition of “spirit,” I could not in good faith attribute any of them to my interpretation of Spirit.

When I think of someone who is religious, perhaps it is because their seeming focus tends to be more heavily on the legalistic side of the see-saw.  I believe, however, that a “strict conformity” to anything has a tendency to build a box, to close some in and to keep others out.  I know few who are truly legalistic.  Most on this side are religious, “manifesting faithful devotion to an acknowledged ultimate reality or deity . . . or devoted to religious beliefs or observances.”  This person probably knows creeds and
scripture by heart, can recite what they believe at a moment’s notice,
without hesitation.  Ah, how I admire that knowledge, that assuredness.

When I think of someone who is spiritual, I think of my experience with them, how freely the energy, the Spirit, flows between them and me.  Their very life seems to be caught up in Spirit, ever-present in all they do.  But there can be haze; it is ever-changing.  As with Merriam-Webster, the person experiencing Spirit has a hard time describing what exactly It is but knows without a doubt what the response is to it, whether it be laughter or tears, joy or uncertainty.  Indeed, it compels us forward in all we do.

Of course, I tend to find myself more spiritually inclined.  My see-saw has plunked to the ground on the spiritual side and sits there, perhaps at times stuck in the mud.  Would it be ideal to get a good balance going, to hover in the air as the scales are balanced, enjoying it as if laughing with a friend, knowing that there’s really nothing to do on the stuck see-saw except someone get off, hopefully gently?  Is it better to go back and forth, appreciating the other’s strength and weight, watching closely to technique lest you miss something that might enrich your own experience?

As with everything, we have to be aware.  We have to be open to each other.  We have to learn and grow.  At our core, we are all spiritual beings.  Sometimes we need beliefs to help explain ourselves, but all the time, we need to live with and through the Spirit, the Love. 

Skip the small talk.

(photo by *Claudine from everystockphoto.com)