I swam fifty lengths of the pool today in thirty minutes, breaststroke. Lap fourty-one I looked up to see my husband looking at me. Back from Durban for Aunty Jacqlyne and Uncle Hamish's wedding tomorrow. I felt happy to see him, and exasperated too. He feels so far gone when he leaves that his arrival home is confusing. Like a botched game of peek-a-boo that I'm not entertained by anymore.

"How many more laps?" he asked me after greeting.

"Nine more" I replied.

"I've come to whisk you away"

"To where?"

"Home. Our daughter needs feeding, she's not happy."

I finished my nine laps and stepped out. There was no milk at home because she'd gobbled all I had before I could pump. I showered, sensing how much emotion my husband's presence had evoked, and went to greet him.

Marriage, hey?

One person is a complex thing. A whole human navigating life on earth with a myriad of emotions and stories within. Two people doubles the complexity. Add marriage to the mix, a chosen tethering to a journey the waves of life together, and everything that is incompatible with that commitment arises.

Why does life work that way?

Commit to truth, and all the lies come creeping, to be spoken.

Commit to togetherness, and all the fears of devotion and unity rise, to be processed.

Commit to love, and all that is not of service to the essence of that love appears, to leave and make way for the purest kind.

I love the idea that the very purpose of marriage is to create a space so potently charged with commitment, that no matter the intensity of the issue that lurks, we stay to contend. To rise into a life where bigger battles are won together, and deeper victories are felt. Marriage itself is in service to our transformation as humans. Deep togetherness is part of the divine human plan.

The deeper the commitment, the deeper our capacity to solve issues and rise into health.

So what do I want?

How deeply do I wish to commit to it?

And how willing am I to contend with the issues that arise as a result of my rooting?