A Call to Arms
I know what it looks like, but if my wedding band is heated it does not read, “one ring to rule them all, one ring to find them, one ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.”
My friend loaned me the book, Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns), by The Office writer and star, Mindy Kaling. I laughed out loud as I read it. Mindy and I have differing opinions about a number of things she discussed, but I couldn’t agree with her more on the subject of marriage.
She brought up her Shakespeare course in college and noted that his comedies usually end with a wedding. “But I think the actual reason Shakespeare ended them there is because he thought the journey leading up to marriage was more fun to watch than the one that begins after the vows were said.”
I’ve noticed the same. Minus a few exceptions, that describes most modern love stories.
There is a huge emphasis on the path-toward-engagement and wedding day. I’m not discounting the fact that soon-to-be-marrieds are in love and want to spend the rest of their lives together. It’s just that the focus is more on the Big Day than it is on the rest-of-life-together part.
I get it though. Marriage is work. And no one is really entertained by watching work in progress. But what if us married people actually liked our job, as Mindy suggests? What if we stopped being self-centered long enough to cultivate the friendships that brought us to the alter in the first place?
Mindy said, “Married people, it’s up to you. It’s entirely on your shoulders to keep this sinking institution afloat. It’s a stately old ship, and a lot of people, like me, want to get on board. Please be psyched, and convey that psychedness to us. And always remember: so many, many people are envious of what you have. You’re the star at the end of the Shakespearean play, wearing the wreath of flowers in your hair. The rest of us are just the little side characters.”
So to us married people, what do we say? Mindy and a bunch of impressionable not-yet-marrieds are watching.