No other element is so well measured out like our time. And it is with good reason. We manicure our days. We schedule and report and record. After all, we don't get it back. And so we are constrained. We are these bodies stuck in time.
Very much the same calculus can be applied to love. And so many of us do. We strategize and arrange our rhythms. We look for love that will fit in with our preconceived tides.
This has gone on for hundreds of years. It's manifestations are as old as dowries and power politics and as new as Pinterest and gender-reveal parties.
We forget that before any of that cold logic, there already were rhythms. There was a vibration and a kind of love that seeks not to conform or to be understood. And out of love, it set this comedy in motion.
And, perhaps through luck or through some kind of yearning, you find another traveler that reminds you of this love - this messy, silly, obscured love.
And so it is with us - with Erica and Jeremy. We have become unstuck in time. With the two of us, there was no need for explanation of what we felt. Because it was as obvious and powerful as the movement of seasons.
We are brought to our knees at the prospect of this thing. This love that we are together. We have surrendered.
And who could blame us? If you knew that this love was displayed in front of you. If you became suddenly conscious of all that it represents, wouldn't you arrange your time to meet its rhythm? Wouldn't you release from your mooring that weak idea that you had to arrange your time?
Of course you would.
And so we invite some others of you to join us in some ceremony to mark this love. Not out of obligation or out of arrangement. But to reflect what we believe has been laid at our feet.