Stay of Execution: Unsorted Thoughts About Weddings

People want to know what to do, and what is happening. People are very afraid of "doing it wrong". Tradition helps people know what is happening, and what their role is, and what will happen now, and that reassures them and lets them relax into the experience. There are lots of things people worry about: what they're wearing, where they should sit for the service (and when), where they'll be sitting during the dinner, who they'll be sitting near and whether they'll have anything to talk about. They worry about their gift, where they should put it, whether it's the right thing. The people connected with the wedding worry about whether everyone is having a good time, whether the procession went well, whether the sound system is okay, whether the temperature is right.

At a good wedding, the bride and groom have stopped worrying and have delegated all this worry to others. The job of the people around the bride and groom is to keep them unworried. And that job is to absorb everyone's uncertainty, and to project calm reassurance: there is a plan, this is your part in it (and your part in it is vital), here's how to do it, relax and don't worry about anything else. That job -- absorber of uncertainty, provider of structure and direction and reassurance -- is distributed among the best man, the attendants, the person in charge of the venue and the food, and the officiant. And it's exhausting. It's kind of like being a coach, actually. There's all this watching of people and their energy, and a sort of redirection of that nervous energy into something specific. All while being alert to problems, and trying to solve them before they emerge, and always projecting this kind of calm, warm, welcoming reassurance.

I like playing that role. I think I'm pretty good at it. But it wipes me out, and I can't really explain why. Maybe because it requires the opposite of transparency, and that's tiring. I'm on high alert, the kind of attentiveness that is looking, looking, watching, trying to pick up on and solve small crises, noticing anxiety, etc. But I'm pretending to be relaxed, calm, utterly in the moment, focused on one person. It's hard to maintain that duality for a long time: an inner insecurity or state of alertness for potential problems, and an outer aura of calm confidence. It also requires me to be an extrovert with a capital E. That's reasonably natural for me: it's a comfortable role. But I need to recharge with a ton of alone time or one-on-one time.