Knowing Another Is Endless
Reflecting on a young marriage between many unknowns.
Last November, David Hoffmann brought us out to the Blue Mountains on a hike for his birthday. An ex-pat like us, he wanted to be somewhere cool and Autumnal to match his North American birthday climate. After a hike down to Wentworth Falls, he snapped these shots when we had ascended back up the trail.
Andrew and I joked that we felt like we were posing for engagement pics. Sweaty, dust-filled, exhausted engagement pics. Really, we weren’t posing at all. We were just enjoying the Blue Mountains, the vista, the climb, and the company.
August 12th, 2016 was our 4 year wedding anniversary. I felt compelled to share these pictures for a few reasons.
They’re unfiltered (read: they’re silly).
They’re the product of work.
Andrew and I each grew up unsure about marriage. When we were planning our wedding, he said: “You know, I’m not sure I was ever convinced I would get married.”
We decided to live our lives in the only way we know how to: by putting in the work, by sharing our journey with other people, and by never making it look easier than the truth of what it takes to build and rebuild love.
When we got married, we told each other that we wanted our lives to be the antithesis to marriage in the consumer culture: we wanted to reclaim the idea that when something gets broken, you work to repair and rebuild it. And the only way you can successfully do that is by being honest, being vulnerable, and expressing your needs and perspectives.
We’ve changed a lot in the past four years. We’ve changed lifetimes since we met back in 2002. Yet with the years stacking up, it’s easy to fall back on the assumption that we know each other. This person beside me has been here for over 14 years, and I’ve known him for over 14 years.
But the logical fallacy is the assumption that we’re the same people now we were then.
“Knowing another is endless. The thing to be known grows with the knowing.” — Nan Shepherd
We’re not the same people we were yesterday.
We’re nowhere near the same as the people we will be tomorrow.
That’s the point — and the immensely reverent challenge — of the whole journey.