Alex, love the photos! I am dying to know who the other person in "we" is in this story. Oh, and your essay inspired me to suggest to Ben that we wing our Friday night date night in a similar way to how you wound up at Chick-fil-A: let's just wing it! (HAHAHA--Chick-fil-A and wing in the same sentence. Totally unintentional there.)
Alex, my friend I believe you are discovering the secret of life that infuses joy and happiness into one’s soul. No one can tell it like you! Delightful spontaneity. I love this! Thank you.
"meaning doesn't come from perfect circumstances or ideal locations or flawless execution. It comes from presence."
For me these words were the biggest take-away. It is also how I spent time with my individual daughter's. My collection of so many memories, so often stem from spontaneous moments we spent with each other. I needed to stain our Adirondack chairs, my 5 and 7 year old wanted to help. None of the afternoon was planned, but, oh my, what laughter and memories remain.
My shaman teacher was adamant about the difference between ritual and ceremony.
He described ceremony as planned, organized, structured, and meticulously curated to the tiniest of detail. He offered traditional weddings as examples, and labeled them as stale, lifeless, boring, and mundane.
He described ritual as open, free, spacious, and intentional. He explained that the only ingredients necessary were intention and space holding for an opening to take place. He used words like sacred, abundant, vibrant, and vivid.
My first wedding was a ceremony with the big white dress, the first dance, the reception line, and every detail planned. That marriage died an ugly divorce a decade later.
My second wedding was a series of five natural rituals where we set an intention to open a space of connection between us and let nature (earth, water, air, fire, nature, mineral) lead us into unknown territory. What you describe here is what happened. the beauty of nature. depth of conversation. simplicity met with intimacy. This marriage is flourishing in ways I didn't know my garden of aliveness could grow and surprises me every single day.
Thanks for giving me the another topic for a Hobbit & Owl article!
Alexander - I rather like how you put words to that choice point: brakes or aliveness. What stood out to me is how the whole evening built on one “yes” at a time. It’s easy to forget that most of what brings meaning isn’t in the big plans but in the everyday moments when we don’t over-manage. Your story made me think about how often I cut myself off from that kind of momentum without even realizing it.
Alex, love the photos! I am dying to know who the other person in "we" is in this story. Oh, and your essay inspired me to suggest to Ben that we wing our Friday night date night in a similar way to how you wound up at Chick-fil-A: let's just wing it! (HAHAHA--Chick-fil-A and wing in the same sentence. Totally unintentional there.)
Alex, my friend I believe you are discovering the secret of life that infuses joy and happiness into one’s soul. No one can tell it like you! Delightful spontaneity. I love this! Thank you.
"meaning doesn't come from perfect circumstances or ideal locations or flawless execution. It comes from presence."
For me these words were the biggest take-away. It is also how I spent time with my individual daughter's. My collection of so many memories, so often stem from spontaneous moments we spent with each other. I needed to stain our Adirondack chairs, my 5 and 7 year old wanted to help. None of the afternoon was planned, but, oh my, what laughter and memories remain.
"meaning doesn't come from perfect circumstances or ideal locations or flawless execution. It comes from presence. "
Being present counts for a lot.
My shaman teacher was adamant about the difference between ritual and ceremony.
He described ceremony as planned, organized, structured, and meticulously curated to the tiniest of detail. He offered traditional weddings as examples, and labeled them as stale, lifeless, boring, and mundane.
He described ritual as open, free, spacious, and intentional. He explained that the only ingredients necessary were intention and space holding for an opening to take place. He used words like sacred, abundant, vibrant, and vivid.
My first wedding was a ceremony with the big white dress, the first dance, the reception line, and every detail planned. That marriage died an ugly divorce a decade later.
My second wedding was a series of five natural rituals where we set an intention to open a space of connection between us and let nature (earth, water, air, fire, nature, mineral) lead us into unknown territory. What you describe here is what happened. the beauty of nature. depth of conversation. simplicity met with intimacy. This marriage is flourishing in ways I didn't know my garden of aliveness could grow and surprises me every single day.
Thanks for giving me the another topic for a Hobbit & Owl article!
Alexander - I rather like how you put words to that choice point: brakes or aliveness. What stood out to me is how the whole evening built on one “yes” at a time. It’s easy to forget that most of what brings meaning isn’t in the big plans but in the everyday moments when we don’t over-manage. Your story made me think about how often I cut myself off from that kind of momentum without even realizing it.
"The sacred hides in the ordinary, but only when you're present enough to recognize it." Yes!!! ✨✨