We keep getting married

Kevin and I have considered ourselves married for years, but we never made it legal. We also wore family heirloom rings until we both lost them in quick succession. Our relationship, like all relationships, is us. It's unique. We feel secure in it so we engage in the traditions that serve and shed others.

We had some time this past Saturday afternoon so we decided to venture to Manayunk, eat, and wander by the river. It had been awhile since either of us hung out down there. We forgot that the town is sporty! Holy cyclists and quinoa in my salad. Tres healthy for Philly.

After downing our avocado and sprouted mung beans we headed towards a Tibetan shop we spotted on the drive into town. Kevin has a lot of time while landscaping to listen to podcasts. Some days he just listens to silence, or his tools, or the neighbors. Others, he listens to a motley assortment of his latest obsessions. Recently, he's taken in a lot of dharma talks by Tibetan Buddhists. He was quite excited entering the store.

For those of you who know the shop, you know it mainly sells clothes, jewelry, and flags. I recommend you support it! Kevin had been hoping for some books. He was shy, and ready to slip out silently, but I asked the shop-keeper if he had any books in stock that we hadn't seen. He answered slowly and sincerely that he did not. Kevin opened up, explaining his practice of using work time to take in guidance that steadies him. The shop-keeper nodded solemnly.

"This is good. You need to practice. Reading only is limited. You have to practice what you learn. For you, you should practice the feet mantra. Before you wake, before you walk, you recite five times the feet mantra so your steps are respectful and intentional. It also prevents harm to insects. If an insect is accidentally killed in your work, this will offer them a quicker, easier death. You can google it."

The last bit was hilarious, but also our reality. Half of Kevin's dharma talks are from podcasts or associated with various apps. Our access to teaching has shifted dramatically.

The shop-keeper continued offering advice and insight from his own long-standing practice. I liked him. He spoke slowly. He made eye contact. He was considered.

I picked up a $2 pendant to hang from the rear view mirror. I wanted to compensate him for his time and teaching. Kevin began examining the rings.

The shop-keeper asked us if we were married and we nodded yes. "That is the most important practice. With one another, you must practice respect and compassion. You must always be most compassionate and respectful with one another. This will create happiness."

Kevin began testing the rings. "I'll replace the wedding band I lost. I've been wanting to."

I suddenly regretted the rear view mirror pendant.

I couldn't find a ring that fit. Kevin's was ill-fitting, but we both agreed the moment made it special. If he loses it again, no matter. We'll likely stumble upon another unexpected teacher hawking jewelry.