marrying to the beat of their own drum (and bagpipes. and a fiddle.)
We’re back in Houston after our whirlwind trip to Bath and, most importantly, Cornwall, and I’m pretty sure that I’ll be thinking about Ellie and Ollie’s wedding for the rest of my life.
As you know, at the end of 2021 I published a book about the intersection of joy and activism. One of the great learnings I had from writing that book was that we’re all called to use our skills and values and creativity to make the world a better place. Last year, I wrote a book about joyful aging (out this October), and one of the great learnings I had when writing that book is that we can each be the architect of our own evolutions, especially when we do so in defiance of the way society tells us we should do so.
In other words, we each have the power to create beauty and love and light, whether it’s in activism or aging. And, apparently, in weddings. Because these two young people gave a master class in what’s possible when you put your skills and values and creativity to work in creating an extraordinary event.
These crazy kids decided to use a circus theme for their wedding. You heard me. And the wild thing is that it worked.
Once the theme was set, these two — and their families — set out to create the entire thing, absolutely by hand. From signs, to tablecloths, to table settings, to the wedding cake(s!), every single thing was created by hand, by them. And they took a traditional wedding and added a bit of a twist.
For example, the processional included a full band.
And then, when the groom blew a whistle, the entire congregation made a joyful noise with tambourines and bubbles and noisemakers when the bride walked down the aisle.
Then after the wedding — get this — we paraded through the town. Like an actual parade, ending In a park with a traditional Cornish cream tea.
And then finally, we returned to the church which had been transformed for the reception, where we toasted the happy couple with — I’m giggling as I type this — hot chocolate.
And speaking of the reception, instead of a DJ, there was a traditional Cornish band in service of a troyl which, according to Wikipedia, is a colloquial Cornish word meaning a barn dance; it’s a form of céilidh, a Gaelic word meaning a social evening of dance, music and song. And instead of the usual reception where younger folks are cutting a rug to pop music while the older folks watch, everyone was up dancing, in full-on revelry.
It was amazing. And it was joyful.
Here’s to Ellie and Ollie — may they forever joyfully create and curate their lives together!
with my usual advice.