Ceremony as Dialogue
A ceremony, to me, is never a performance. It’s a conversation.
Every partnership has their own rhythm — a quiet language that exists long before the day itself. My work as a wedding celebrant is to listen for that language and help it take form. When we see ceremony as dialogue, it becomes alive: a conversation between two people and the world around them, between love and lineage, the ordinary and the sacred.
Before I write a word, I listen — to how people describe each other when the other isn’t in the room, to what makes them laugh, to the small stories that reveal how love really lives in them. From this listening, the shape of the ceremony emerges — not as a template, but as an act of attention.
Some ceremonies begin in silence, others with laughter, music, or community. Once, a wedding opened with a kazoo-led processional — the whole crowd humming their joy into being. Another began with a collective breath before we called in the directions — East, South, West, North — to honour the elements that hold us. In one, we paused to look into our palms as I read Thich Nhat Hanh’s words: “If you look deeply into the palm of your hand, you will see your parents and all generations of your ancestors.” In another, the couple turned outward after their vows to make a promise to their community — a “vow to the village” — thanking their friends and families for lighting the way.
Each time, the form changes, but the feeling is the same: the ceremony becomes a mirror of how love actually moves.
The most meaningful ceremonies don’t just centre the couple; they invite the community to witness and participate — through readings, shared vows, stillness, or song. Love, after all, is relational. A ceremony should be too.
No two ceremonies are ever the same. What unites them is that they are co-created — owned fully by the people who stand within them. Because a truly inclusive ceremony doesn’t tell anyone what love should look like; it helps them name what it already is.
As a London celebrant, I help couples and communities create modern, creative, participatory ceremonies that sound and feel like them — joyful, grounded, and real.
If you want a wedding that feels less like a script and more like a conversation, let’s begin there.
