How We Turned a No-Marriage Pact into a Spiritual Union.
When Yoni and I first spoke, I made it very clear to him: I wasn’t interested in a one-night stand.
If we were going to date, it was with the understanding that this relationship could lead to kids.
As I said it, I could practically hear my mother’s voice screaming in my head, “That is NOT how you find a husband!”
To my surprise, Yoni didn’t flinch. “I love kids,” he said.
But then, with equal seriousness, he added, “But I’ll never marry you.”
Now that was unexpected. I grew up believing that love, a good relationship, and kids naturally led to marriage.
But Yoni was resolute: no marriage.
We danced around the topic a bit. I joked, “So no big wedding party, then?” He agreed to a party, and when I asked about a white dress, he was on board with that too.
So, I agreed to his terms.
That was Monday. By Saturday, Yoni had moved in. True to his word, he never proposed.
I used to joke that after 20 years together, he’d beg me to marry him, and I’d say no—why ruin a good thing?
But life has a way of surprising you.
In 2002, out of the blue, Yoni announced that we needed to “work on our relationship.”
It wasn’t because things were bad, but because he wanted Amma, the Indian Saint and Guru, to bless our union.
We often attended her three-day meditation celebrations when she visited Holland.
Amma, known as the “Hugging Saint,” was said to bless couples if she felt their souls were compatible.
Yoni was skeptical about whether we’d get her approval, so he suggested we work on our relationship for a year.
And what better way to do that than by creating a project together?
We launched a website, “no-problem-marriage-counselling,” where we shared advice on relationships, love, and sex.
Eventually, it evolved into a book called The Art of Lovemaking.
That year was incredible. Our already great relationship deepened and became even more passionate.
A year later, we felt ready to ask Amma for her blessing.
In 2003, we joined the thousands of people at her festival in Holland, slowly inching forward in line for our turn to receive a hug from Amma.
When we finally reached her and asked to get married, she hugged us and immediately said, “Yes.”
The ceremony was set for the next night.
We had just 24 hours to prepare.
Yoni needed special clothes, I had to buy one of Amma’s saris, and we had to make four garlands of rose petals—one for each of us and a big one for Amma.
Our friends, who were there with us, jumped in to help.
We worked all day, excited for our 9:00 p.m. ceremony, which was set to coincide with a meteor shower.
But as things go with Amma, time flowed differently.
The night sky was indeed lit up by meteors, but the procession of hugs stretched on, and our wedding didn’t happen until 4:00 a.m. the next morning.
By then, we were exhausted, Thom was passed out, and Yoni and I were running on fumes.
As we sat in front of Amma, everything felt surreal. I remember a shower of petals, Yoni circling around me seven times, me circling him seven times, and the chanting of sacred songs in the background.
It was hazy, magical, and perfect.
Driving home, it hit me: It was exactly 10 years after Yoni had first moved in with me.
I had joked that he’d beg me to marry him after 20 years, but in the end, he did it in 10.
Life has a funny way of bringing things full circle.
