My friends’ wedding in Sonoma was tasteful, sweet, and smooth, like the wine of the region. It was a simple Catholic ceremony, with a few readings and words of inspiration from the pastor, followed by a modest reception that focused on the bride and groom and their relatives and friends, rather than the food or setting. I don’t know why I expected something more grandiose, but after having been to more than a handful of weddings in my 20s, I became accustomed to the celebration of love being ostentatious. Whether it was about the dress, or the venue, or the food, or the vows, or whatever else, most weddings I’ve been to have been more extravagant than humble. All of have been beautiful, nonetheless.
However, that’s maybe why I am starting to think that love is, more than anything, about humility. And being humble is a conscious choice. Therefore, to love is a choice.
When it comes to romantic relationships, lust and infatuation are obvious reactions to being physically attracted to one another. Love, which often lamentably comes much later in a relationship, is the choice to accept the other person entirely, and to resign one’s dispositions and projections. Love is friendship.
I don’t know if my friends had or have any lust in their relationship, and, frankly, I don’t care to know. What was obvious after their wedding, though, was that their life is full of love. They didn’t need a huge party or the best catering. They didn’t want an outrageously tall wedding cake or fancy venue. In fact, it all seemed like somewhat of a forced formality, maybe due to tradition and societal expectations.
The moment they chose to, and continue to choose to, love each other was and is a moment they decide to put aside their individual inclinations in order prioritize a unified perspective – one in which they’re both still looking at their own unique destinations, but doing so side by side. The ring, the ceremony, the reception, are nothing but a celebration of these moments, and should be just as humble as love itself.
