A Friday night outdoor wedding with more than a hint of rain. 

This was my thinking as I scanned my schedule last Friday. I had a small time window between work and picking up the “package.” The package being my mother-in-law. I realized I still had to try on my dress, find shoes, get gas in the car, write the card, eat lunch, and run an errand. Kinda wished I had thought this all out earlier in the week. 

I wandered around the house muttering “umbrella” so I wouldn’t forget to bring one. 

I tossed out the suede shoes for another pair that could tolerate wet grass and a heavy downpour. My skirt fit loosely so I packed a big safety pin in case there was wild dancing and it was at risk of falling down. (No one needs to see that.) With amazing efficiency, I was only 15 minutes behind schedule. Which is on time for me.

The package acquired and looking lovely, we hit the open road.

There’s something about heading to the shore that triggers a massive relaxation in my being. I put my bare feet up on the dashboard and enjoyed the ride. Even a threat of rain couldn’t dim my anticipation. I was heading to a big party to celebrate two lovely women who, like many, postponed their wedding a year due to COVID.

I hadn’t seen this extended family in almost a year. Not in person, that is. 

Arriving at a beautiful vineyard, I was transfixed by the lovely gardens and neat rows of vines. The day was warm and the sun was peeking through the clouds. Weather nerds were on their phones predicting the downpour had shifted course. We were not to be blessed by the holy water from the heavens. 

I imagined there were other blessings in store. 

As we claimed three rows together, I delighted in seeing everyone. It warms my heart even now, this pleasure of face to face contact, kisses, and hugs. I hadn’t realized how much I had missed all of them until I was in their presence. I’m moved by weddings, funerals, warmhearted stories, and hallmark commercials. Often to tears. So, I was already primed to flow a drips with the joy of settling in with these lovely people.

Here’s the thing about two brides. 

I knew these lovely ladies. I knew they each would walk down the aisle and profess their love and commitment for each other. I anticipated that wonder. I took that for granted. 

I had not considered, perhaps, how different such a union is from the prevailing societal expectations for weddings and marriage. 

Since high school, my friends, colleagues, and extended circles have always included people who favor same sex relationships. That was normative in my experience. And I’ve had plenty of conversations of their experience in the world, different from mine, which opened my mind and heart more fully.

These conversations weren’t only about sexual preference and the courage to live true to oneself.

As friends, the conversations were about everything.

 I wonder now if perhaps my comfort level actually left me insensitive to how deeply the dominant view of weddings as heterosexual was buried within my psyche. And our societal psyche.

The entrance of the bridal party took my breath away. 

Two by two, beautiful ladies in dresses of their own choosing walked down the grassy aisle. Alternating to reveal themselves as friends of this bride or that bride. There were a lot of bridesmaids and they just kept coming. Two by two.

Making a visual statement that resonated deeply within my body. All ladies with the exception of two brothers. All walking together as women. Together as men. Making a point. Priming us for the entrance of one gorgeous bride. And then another. 

This was a blessed union of two women. 

I saw that. Really saw that. And how different this was from just about every wedding I had witnessed with the expected male and female pairs leading a single bride down the aisle. I recognized that the last wedding of friends, who were a long time couple, had walked in by themselves. Just as I was used to seeing them walk into many gatherings over the years.

It was a welcome shaking of my stored inner photo of what weddings looked like.  

Here, I was greeted by a solidarity that boldly and beautifully stated the truth of the day.

A seemingly long time ago, a pandemic arrived in our towns. We entered quarantine a bit shell shocked but hopeful for a temporary respite. When the date for “normal” was pushed back, we engineered creative solutions to our circumstances.

Outdoor visits, neighborhood singing, zoom game night, food drives, and even old fashion letter writing.

Along the way, as the summer’s warmth faded and quiet holidays passed, the gray cold winter zapped more than our vitamin D. We became less likely to reach out to friends and our social circles shrunk.

We turned further inward. Seeking comfort in the known.

By week’s end, our brains were fried by screen time and colleagues voices in our air pods. The kids were tired and parents’ nerves were frayed. Play dates, travel, dinners out, and de-stressing at the gym became dim memories.

Eventually it became easier to shrink to the confines of our restricted lives.

Perhaps the Scottish writer, Donna Ashworth, captured the zeitgeist of these lonely winter months.

We are spent.
We have nothing left to say.
We are tired of saying “I miss you” and “I cant wait for this to end.”
So we mostly say nothing, put our heads down and get through each day.

And then the light returned. A promise of Spring. A bit of warmth.

Still, so many remain tired. Feeling tumbled about like a seashell in the surf. The grief of personal and shared losses dampens our capacity for optimism. Our social recovery has been slow. We seek to define the unknown. To package it in terminology we can stomach.

As if the “new normal” is in anyway palatable.

We share a longing for contact with our species, yet a pervading discomfort remains. Leaving us hesitant. Tentatively peeking out the proverbial front door, we wave to our neighbors but don’t yet invite them to dinner on the deck.

It’s no longer just a fear of contracting COVID or placing others at risk.

A general malaise with a side of withdrawal is lingering in our population. From mild uneasiness to full blown experiences of depression and anxiety, the withdrawal from social contact becomes self protective.

We’re tired of talking about the pandemic and its effects.

But what is left to say? As the world closed down and our lives grew smaller, our social world contracted. And even while the light returns and outdoors beckon, many are feeling less than interesting or perhaps downright antisocial. Loneliness, insecurity, or a vague sense of dis-ease has taken root within us.

I was at the hair salon (wearing my mask) and noticed the Victoria Secret fashion show playing on the flat screen.

I watched the show and looked at the salon crowd. Teens to seniors, mostly female, I couldn’t find anyone who looked like those models. Granted, it was not a fair comparison, as no one in the salon was in high heels and underwear.

Why were we watching this program?

I thought of my chats with hundreds of teenage girls, many of whom compared themselves to the models, youtubers, and performers they knew. Guess what? They couldn’t see the similarity either.

Here’s the problem: these wonderful young women all concluded the same thing. They were coming up short.

There was no consideration for a cultural norm of beauty that does not represent the population.Or that there are makeup artists, hair stylists, professional photographers, personal trainers, and air brushing involved.

The difficulty in our culture is that so many role models in the media are limited to their visual persona.

This just doesn’t translate to the lives of ordinary folks. The truth is, none of the ladies I’ve spoken with could have possibly come up short. They all broadcast beauty, kindness, intelligence, and talent. It often takes another person to see the loveliness of others. And humans are really good at dismissing another’s perspective – especially if it doesn’t match the cultural image of the time.

So, how do we create sturdy children who are able to own and celebrate their unique beauty, strengths, intelligence, and talents?

Especially with the influence of social media woven throughout every aspect of our culture? I think it is time for parents, grandparents, older siblings, teachers, coaches, and neighbors to hit the runway. Now before you get nervous about the idea of high heels, make up, and underwear, take a breath.

Ask yourself, “What am I modeling for young people?”

The author Robert Fulghum drops some wisdom with his famous statement: “Don’t worry that children never listen to you; worry that they are always watching you.” What are you identifying as important and living as a “professional model?” Remember, children learn what they live.

Modeling without a runway certainly doesn’t include airbrushing. It’s real, raw, and imperfect.

Actions speak louder than words. This invites you to lay down the teaching and preaching, and get really clear about who you are and how you live in the world. What are you really “saying” about personal attributes, love and respect, environmental awareness, approach to education, social attitudes, physical health, or playtime?

Yesterday taught me something valuable.

After an enjoyable and long day of working, I tuned into the highlights of the inaugural ceremonies and celebration. I’m aware of the potential of any significant change, such as a transfer of leadership, to raise or lower the human capacity to live well.

Curious about the prevailing message of the day, I surfed the highlights.

Grateful for freedom to choose what I watched on youtube, granting me the ability to avoid the “noise” of commentary. I saw evidence of a transfer of leadership – peaceful, solemn, joyous, determined. Historic for many reasons, including welcoming a woman of color as vice president. I watched the live evening events focused upon new opportunities, the need for repair, the goodness of people, and the benefit of serving one another.

Promoting the capacity to live and work well, together as a human family sharing a country.

To honor one another and those who have suffered. To reach for one another so that they may know to reach back. To commit to finding a way to tend, mend, and grow. To step up and sing together. To begin to continue to complex work of bridging instead of dividing people.

Words, actions, and songs reflecting the need for love, caring, and respect.

And sure, we need lots of intelligence, fortitude, courage, and faith in our capacity to rise to every challenge. All of this may be familiar as rhetoric so often heard in political speeches and well orchestrated programs designed to inspire unity within a county. And to call forth the agreement that some grit is required if true transformation is to occur.

I also wondered about those too angry or disheartened to tune in.

I thought of those I know who think very differently than me. About people who resist the new ideas, with these leaders’ underlying and far reaching ideals. Who feel threatened by what is to come and are disheartened by this new direction. I felt the potential for more division, more derision, and more misunderstanding.

And then a young woman poetically reminded us that our blunders are the next generations’ burdens.

Oh. A realization emerged. I speak of bridging while I remain divided. I’m okay with having a stance. I express my disagreement or condemnation of those ideas, ideals, actions, and rhetoric which I believe dehumanize people and divide us. With clarity, it leads me to action which aligns with my beliefs. And I’m okay with you having a stance.

I’m doing the same as everyone else here, regardless of “side.”

Today I was grateful to have some conversations with people on both sides. Some were happy. Some were wounded. Insulted. Disheartened. I sought to understand and learned that flames had been fanned by a deep insult. Grouping everyone together on one side and labeling them in a certain way. A group is not an individual. For her, it simply wasn’t true. 

“I want peace.” was the plaintive cry. I heard her pain.

My actions align with my beliefs. Or do they? If I speak with derision of someone’s lack of respect in how they conduct themselves, am I not disrespectful? If I make fun of another whom I disagree with, even on core fundamental beliefs, aren’t I diminishing their personhood? And on and on these questions arose.

Revealing my blunders. Contributing to the future ….. burdens that I scatter about mindlessly by my actions.

I’m mostly surrounded by people who think similarly to me. People interested in personal transformation. Spiritual seekers and yogis. Humanitarians. Those committed to bringing light, harmony, and improved conditions for humanity and the planet.

So, it’s easy to miss the obvious.