In the past few months, I have been up to many things. Some big and some small. But … mostly big. I've moved into a new home. I've flown off from Greece to the States and then flown back again. And, most recently, I've married the love of my life.
Two weeks ago, G and I affirmed our commitment to one another in a small, intimate ceremony at our town hall. We thought it would be sterile, devoid of meaning, merely a step on our way to "The Big Wedding" we still hope to have next year. But the day surprised us in the forms of beauty and joy and laughter. It shocked us both. In a good way.
Having lived together for two years, we have been slow to realize the change that has taken place, however. The day of our wedding, G had to head off that evening to teach. The next morning, we woke up as usual and followed our little morning routines. We have practiced calling each other "husband" and "wife," and more often than not found ourselves in a fit of the giggles. We love each other but it's not sinking in. Maybe when we have the big wedding, we think?
Then two days ago I was sitting at my dining table with my friend and upstairs neighbor, Tonia. We were practicing my Greek. As we went through what I had learned in my Greek lessons that morning, Tonia began to teach me about the history behind the words. This is something I love because I love words. It doesn't matter its origin, I have always been enthralled by how a word came to be and all of the baggage it carries with it when it reaches us.
We were practicing dialogue:
"Eisai pandremeni?" Tonia asked. (Are you married?)
"Nai, eimai pandremeni," I answered. "O G__ einai o syzygos mou." (Yes, I am married. G is my husband.)
Tonia said to me, "Look. See this word, syzygos. It is made up of two words joined together: Syn and Zygos. Syn means together," and I nodded my head because I knew this. It is where we get words like synthesis, synergy, syncretic (all Greek, too, by the way). "And Zygos is … like the scales," and she illustrated with the sign of Libra. "This is syzygos. It is balance."
The new world I had stepped into then opened up to me. Syn. Zygos. Together. In balance.
When Tonia left, I looked up the word again online. I discovered that zygos can also mean "yoke," as in two oxen who are yoked together to plow a field. To yoke something means to join two things together under a shared burden. I remembered the church sermons from when I was a child: Do not be unequally yoked, we were admonished. But … I don't like this imagery. It is that of slavery. No, I like the first that Tonia shared with me.
Zygos equals the balance of two scales. G and I are joined together, in balance, and to balance. Without the other, there is no balance. In Greek, both male and female are syzygos.
When G came home that evening from another night of teaching, I shared with him what I had learned and, as I did, I could see his eyes opening too. As with me, everything became clear for him in that moment.
Since then, we have not fallen into any more fits of giggles at the mention of the word "husband" or "wife" … probably because we aren't using them. We refer to each other as "syzygos." This is what we are.
Your comments on this post are welcome. Please feel free to share your thoughts.
