Marriage 2: vows of freedom in both mind and soul?

Monday June 29^th 2009: Talking about marriage we do in various ways… with others. Do we talk about it ourselves? YES OF COURSE we do, before we marry; but how about after? What is there to talk about then? Could it be that we only talk about our marriage “after” when in crises? But what about the reverse, do we talk about it when we’re happily married too? Yes we do… in various ways, but it’s seldom that the sound of talk is heard.

…

The train Marianne and I are traveling on passes our town city hall rather immediately after leaving the station behind, a magnificent building with a high tower and all. I look at it as I have done so many times before, but this time my train window focuses in on the wall with its high narrow windows. The image like glues itself to my car window glass and drags along as we pass. It’s majestic and it reminds me of a church. Marianne is fully occupied by something else and we don’t talk much when traveling anyway, leaving space for each other and our minds to wander about. In that kind of race I think I’m the one walking and getting lost the most.

That building, that wall with its windows, “Which way?”, I mean about light, I mean the meaning of a building, “Which way is light supposed to pass, in or out?” I hadn’t thought of that before, what does it mean, what is this journey trying to tell me? Almost like a child I look out my train car window as it makes images of the reality we pass by. Almost like a movie these images shift faster and faster as the train speeds up. But that wall and its windows are still there hanging on like a transparent ghost following trying to reach out for my attention.

There is no one on the train, not that we know of anyway, but Marianne and me and still no train conductor in sight. Marianne is picking up something to read from a small bag she brought with her, while I’m stuck with my ghost image. This about marriage, the vows we make to each other, if any, what is that all about? In that room behind walls when Marianne and I married, there was light coming in through the windows, but something changed during this very short ceremony. The ceremony itself wasn’t it and I don’t think it matters if its big or small, not on this our journey anyway. But the change I felt was strong and moving. I felt Marianne present in a way I never had felt her present before and I felt a tear of joy building up in my eye like a sign of the moment. I don’t think that tear showed, but deep down in my soul the woman I am was crying.

I look over to Marianne’s side with her sitting next to me. She is still reading her book as in peace and harmony and I don’t want to break that spell. Out in society Marianne has to meet silent people wondering “Why? How can you marry a woman? You are not lesbian, or…? Are you?” Most people however have been positive and curious, allowing Marianne space to be herself as before in their presence. Curiosity is like looking out through a window contrary staring into a wall. The reason why Marianne and I married is out there outside the wall. We did say yes to each other as was expected of us and we did leave the room and the building as a married couple. But that one soul I so strongly felt emerging with Marianne standing by my side that moment, I felt like a beam of light reflecting at us, taking us with it and back out through the windows again.

This our soul of marriage is free and happy and we bring it with us wherever we go. All it takes is a little bit of curiosity to meet up with us and see. This our one soul and the vows that made it, is about love and affection. While our bodies use the doorway to come out,we as a pair, our soul, our beam of light passes through a window. What our bodies no longer are matched up for, that light passes through with ease. It was within where Marianne and I married the most and I believe that even God saw that and welcomed our light among others to forever shine as a star from his never-ending heaven in peace.

As in a fairytale one of the ghost image wall windows opened and, like a voice talking without a sound, I in my mind could hear it clearly:

Like colors shifting they merge into white,

for married couples they provide light in the night.

The institution we say a marriage should be,

like light guiding us, it to all of us is free.

Like a window your colors of life passes through,

it leaves your bodies outside, but not you two.

White is the light where your marriage starts,

all colors are equal you are as a pair one heart.

Then like in a flash of light, my ghost image vanishes and disappears. Marianne looks up at me from her book as if woken by surprise not having seen anything.

“What was that?” she asks me.

I smile back at her while pointing out through my window like showing.

“There, we passed our image but not our light.”

Marianne shaking her head returns to her book mumbling something about ”Hopeless” and “Silly” and I guess she means me. But she obviously reacted and, unconsciously or not, she felt that flash of light happen to her too.

The speed of the train is increasing and both Marianne and I can hear that someone is on his or her way coming through to our car.

…

I wonder, as you may too.