Meditative Prose
Sunday, 30 November 2008
Circular Cloud
When Sarah and I first moved to Vermont, I had this uncanny sensation that I could feel myself growing up, the way a tree must feel in a particularly good year when it adds a thick ring to its circumference. It seems like a such a little thing now, after more than two years, but graduating from college and moving away to live with my love changed me. Something broke then, in a good, freeing way. It was the last stage of childhood: no longer walking hand-in-hand with my parents, or helped along by an institution like Bucknell, the training wheels off and the final push given. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and exactly what I needed to continue growing.
Now is another time like that. A few weeks ago, I stepped into a local jewelry store looking for an engagement ring, and half an hour later came out with one I knew was perfect. I carried it around with me for a few days, took it to work and showed my giddy (female) co-workers. Contained in its little box, hidden away in my backpack, it was like an ember burning in the back of my mind, especially when I was around Sarah. One night, sitting on the futon and listening to the unexpected rain outside our open windows, I almost gave myself away smiling.
That was the moment, but I didn’t know it until it had already passed. Instead, the ember burned brighter, until one night I couldn’t get to sleep, couldn’t stop tossing and turning. Sarah knew something was up and pressed me, until finally I hopped out of bed, fumbled around in my backpack for the little wine-colored box, and proposed in my underwear. That is how it happened — probably not how either of us had imagined it, but the important part (“Yes!”) was perfect.
We have been living together since our senior year of college, when Sarah basically moved into my dorm room. Our new apartment is not much larger than that (and actually, when you include the common spaces, it is much smaller) but the circumstances are completely different. We are financially self-sufficient, handling the stresses of working full time and paying bills, while our core of joy and love has grown. We have surrounded ourselves with simple, beautiful things, filled our shelves with our favorite books, and settled into our little nest. By any measure, we live very comfortably.
But the time for fast growth has come again. We have dreams that need attending to. The next stage of our life together is beginning — I can feel it. There is no reason to dally: we hope to get married on the summer solstice this June. We don’t have concrete plans beyond that, but we have a shared vision that is urging us onward. Some of the books on our shelf might provide a hint at where we are going: for starters, there’s this one and this one. Our shared vision also includes some little ones padding around barefoot, and all the joy and responsibility that comes with them.
To paraphrase Thoreau, we are growing like corn in the night. Wedding plans, as well as a website, are in the works. I’ll keep you all posted. Until then, be well and enjoy the coming of winter!
