It is of the same ilk as the Ohio State Marching Band, whose choreography depicts Superman righting a skyscraper. Any single member of the band stuck on the turf cannot visualize that his or her steps represent the superhero's right leg, or Harry Potter's scarf waving in the wind, or a dinosaur's lunch. But each marcher trusts the word of the bandleader. The result is a visual story that has been viewed fourteen million times. 

My marriage and perhaps yours is a series of isolated steps that abruptly change direction or stall in one place. I am barely three feet off the ground and lack the perspective of how the seemingly arbitrary bits flow together. It may not make sense to me to wait when I want to move, or hustle when my legs are leaden. But when I observe a single person from Ohio State, that is precisely what they do. 

This week is characterized by a collective urge to see the big picture. Where have we come? Where are we headed? We try to climb into the grandstands of our own brain to review the past year, and search for beauty or an overarching theme. But sometimes a year is too fleeting to see the pattern, just like a viewer with a short attention span could click on the band video, watch for twenty seconds and get bored. Someone who was riding a ski lift above Simon when he was barely an hour into his work could dismiss it as random. 

This week I spent an hour with a couple who have been married longer than me, have lived on two continents, raised four children and are present for their grandchildren. I sense that the pattern is more clear for them than the third couple who also sat with us. They have been married only a few months, and the steps, while joyfully taken, have not yet unveiled their pattern. 

It is a miracle what can be created when you trust the Bandleader.