“All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances;
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages…”
— Jaques (Act II, Scene VII, lines 139-143), Shakespeare, As You Like It

If you’ve read some of the articles I’ve posted here on Eden Cafe, you probably know that my husband and I aren’t the typical couple. We are polyamorous pagan-types, with not much interest in organized religion or traditional relationship models. So when it came to getting married, we had a lot of decision to make about things that most people take at face value without a lot of questioning.

Did we want to sign a marriage contract that ostensibly committed to signing all our potential future children over as property of the Queen (we’re Canadians), and admit that any sex outside the confines of our relationship would be tantamount to infidelity, regardless of our own personal agreement, and not only reason for divorce, but essentially illegal? Short answer – no, we did not.

Who would we ask to perform our marriage ceremony? Who could we trust to perform such a sacred service to our specifications? Would our friends and family recognize our choice even if we didn’t sign a standard license or have an “authorized official” officiate? Could we cast a circle and invoke sacred space without freaking out our born-again Christian relatives? How could we convince our parents that an “open marriage” is just as real as a monogamous one?

All of this was beside the other things we needed to decide on – invitations, flowers, food, drinks, location – which we did as much on our own as possible, with an incredibly small budget. We sent our invitations printed on the backs of traditional Rider-Waite tarot cards (which came with descriptions already printed on them under the images), cooked our own Indian buffet and had a friend make the cake, my mother grew the spring flowers herself and created the bouquets, and we made gallons upon gallons of wine, beer and mead for an open bar. We chose an outdoor location in the northern climes of South-Western Ontario, a risk for our May 2nd date, overlooking the Niagara escarpment and the Beaver Valley. My mother sewed my dress herself in silver satin, and my husband wore a traditional kilt in his family tartan. Our friends who represented the elements and natural forces we called in, as well as our two witnesses, all wore matching blue velvet cloaks so they could put on whatever they wanted underneath. All told, I think we spent less on our entire wedding than the cost we were quoted by the only caterer we considered, and my wedding party didn’t have to pay anything other than the gas money to drive up for the two-day event.

After some discussion, we asked two very close friends of ours – a husband and wife who had been priest and priestess to our close knit group of pagan friends for some time – to do the honours of tying our knots. With their input, I wrote the rituals myself – a May 1st Beltane Eve celebration to honour the spring God & Goddess with our nearest and dearest, and the wedding itself the following afternoon. My husband and I each wrote our own vows, which we kept in confidence until we spoke them aloud that day. It was an event that was completely unique, totally self-made and perfectly us.

I have published the full wedding ritual on my own blog, (http://getsexsavvy.com/blog/?p=176) but today what I really want to talk about are the roles we chose to play in the day-to-day. While my husband’s vows closely paralleled the traditional:

“I do solemnly vow to love you fully and completely for all our days, to hold my esteem in your eyes above all others, to dedicate my life to service of the power of love, enthroned in you, to never let you go, in hunger, sickness or ill health”

… mine were a bit more centered around the idea of roles in our relationship, rather than specific acts or situations. My Vows stated:

“I do solemnly vow to be your anima, your goddess, your priestess, your muse, and to help you see these things in the faces of all others.”

Many individuals, especially in the kink community, devote themselves to specific roles of service or dominance when they enter into a lifelong relationship. My roles, while they are a testament to my dedication to my relationship with my husband, are not just about my service to him. They are, as my husband said in his own vows, my service to “the power of love, enthroned in” my partner. To each other, we are love incarnate, god and goddess, the divine masculine and the divine feminine in the dance of life, love, sex and death. Each of these roles not only describes my perceived roles, but the reciprocal roles that my husband takes to compliment our experiences.

Anima (and animus)
In Jungian psychology, the anima and animus are the two primary archetypes of the unconscious. The masculine mind is said to express its unconsciousness through the feminine personality (the anima) and vice versa. Couples are often counseled to be careful not to confuse the reality of their partner’s own personality with the project of the anima or animus onto the object of affection. By recognizing these hidden personalities in ourselves and each other, we are able to “take on” this personality, to mirror each other in times of great need and self-reflection, then put the mirror away so we can see each other more clearly for who we really are and what we truly desire.

Goddess (and god)
The concept of the divine feminine is vital to my personal belief system and my call as a sacred sexual priestess (we’ll get to that soon). One very specific role of priestesshood, is the ability to take on the face of the Goddess, to let go of myself long enough for the divine feminine to shine through me, to reach out and touch someone… literally and figuratively. There are many goddesses whom I can become, and there is The One, she who is the perfect match for the divine masculine in my mate. Together we strive to be the best, the most sacred that we can be.

Priestess (and priest)
Aside from the act of “aspecting” (putting on the face of) the Goddess, my role as a priestess is complex and varied. I am in very many ways still learning what this means for me – teaching, directing, healing, nurturing, tending, worshipping, praying, creating. As a priestess I am an artist, a writer, a singer, a dancer… I tend our gardens and make good food, I am mistress of my own fertile body and work to understand the sacred cycles of life and time. In the tarot, the High Priestess is the harmonizer, the keeper of women’s mysteries, and she who weaves and masters the dualistic nature of the universe, moving seamlessly between the physical and the spiritual in the same way that The High Priest of the tarot makes it his work to bring the sacred “down to earth”. These archetypes are master (and mistress) of their own domain, together we make the world in the image of our higher selves.

Muse (and artist)
In ancient myth, the muses were goddesses themselves, keepers of sacred knowledge, which they passed down to humans in poetry, prose, song and dance. Calliope is the muse of epic poetry, Clio of history, Erato of lyrical and sexual poems, Euterpe of music, Melpomene of tragedy, Polyhymnia of sacred verse, Terpsichore of dance and song, Thalia of comedy, and Urania of astronomy and astrology. In more general terms, a muse is one who inspires, who doesn’t create beauty herself, but makes space for beauty to become reality through another. Through my love and devotion, my husband finds his place in the world to bring about his own true beauty, his own great works. He is safe to write, to make music, to record history, to dance and sing, to laugh and make jokes, to write love letters and gaze at the stars. In the comfort of his arms, I am afforded the same freedom.

The Faces of All Others?
Well yes. That is what polyamory is all about for us, about learning that our true love is only the beginning, that our sacredness doesn’t negate that which is holy in the hearts and minds of others, but instead makes it even more special, even easier to draw out and to praise. The strength of our bond is not just the safety we each share to become our own true selves, but the comfort we can give to others to do the same. This path doesn’t end with us… we are only the beginning.