Some elements are compatible, others incompatible. If in prolonged close contact with each other, when compatible there is stability; when incompatible, an electro-chemical, alchemical process caused by electron transfer between the two elements alters their structure and produces transformation. So too it is in marriage.
The Alchemy of Marriage can be seen in terms of compatible and incompatible neurosis. Most of us are garden-variety neurotics: fixated, habit-prone, anxious, superstitious, aggressive, etc. My late wife Norma used to say there’s no escaping the pathology of the family; psychic and emotional experiences create alchemy that transforms us, too.
When neuroses are compatible, relationships are easy and stable. The challenge of incompatible neuroses produces tension and instability. Thus, marriage takes two forms: easy and challenging. One might assume challenging marriages don’t last, and yet, easy marriages fall apart too. Easy can become predictable and boring; desires wander and commitment fails.
Challenging marriages force couples to confront their incompatible aspects, which although emotionally intense and sometimes difficult, can also deepen the bonds of a loving relationship through greater understanding of difference.
Norma and I had a challenging marriage that lasted fifty years. Our commitment to staying together never failed, and through time we gained the deepest possible understanding of each other. The Alchemy of Marriage changed us: I became softer, and she became bolder.
We often wrote to one another. Some excerpts will illustrate what I am explaining.
In 1985 she wrote:
“Let’s go to a cabin Larry, a place like we used to go, so tucked into the forest it’s hard to tell where the trees and the cabin begins.
I know just what it will be like. I will nest, search for space to put my things, settle in. You will twirl your mustache and look for the magic. I will kiss you, then you’ll take me outside to show me the passion flower vine on the side of the cabin. And you will explain to me how each flower bud takes months to grow, and then one day opens into an exotic flower, delicate pink and green in color but stark and strong in its design, and that it blooms for one day only, then dies. Like passion, you say. Your will lead me back inside and you talk of the flower and its design, the symmetry, the miracle of form.
I want to talk only of the mystery of passion, the meaning contained in one small flower. We crawl into the creaky bed, but the flower continues to bloom. In the morning the flower has closed, and we return to our lives, responsible and successful in the world’s eyes. But later in the day, a cool breeze will drift in my office window, and flowers will open inside me.”
In 2002 I wrote:
“The other night my wife’s palm got read at dinner
And I found out she’s a ‘Gina Lollobrigida.’
That came as no surprise to me.
Sure, living with Gina Lollobrigida can be a lot of work sometimes.
Every once in a while I even wish she was Donna Reed,
Calm, steady and with the dishes always done.
In the long run though, I’d miss Gina Lollobrigida too much,
And if I were married to Donna Reed
My palms would begin to show signs of the young and dangerous Fred MacMurray.”
The Alchemy of Marriage: we two bled into each other and became a new element.
