When I think of what it means to live well, I'm drawn to definitions that make me feel slightly uneasy. For example:

• Loyalty is how long you stay by someone's side when it's not in your best interest to do so.
• Happiness is a balance between expectations and reality. Short-term happiness is controlled by expectations, but long-term happiness is equally weighted with power (ability to shape reality) and wealth (stored power).
• Self-awareness is not just about knowing your values, but knowing how to compromise when your values come into conflict.

These have a way of cutting through the platitudes long enough for me to glimpse some ethereal truth behind the words.

Truth can be like direct sunlight — it's uncomfortable to stare at directly. Uneasiness is a hint that I'm searching in the right direction.

What ethereal truths, then, do I sense behind the word "marriage"?

Like many traditions, it's obvious that marriage once had sacred, powerful roots. But over generations, provocative symbols become mere fashion accessories; and divine rituals mere social courtesies.

Perhaps this is the curse of symbolism... What starts as a profound revelation, eventually, gets watered down until all that's remembered is Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny. Somehow, even the Buddha became a fat, laughing statue.

We need symbols because we can't hold ethereal truths in our hands. We can't gift revelations to our loved ones. So we attempt to stuff shiny trinkets full of meaning and emotion, and attempt to teach others about the treasures hidden within.

Yet like all games of telephone, something gets added and something gets lost. The shinier the trinket, the more likely it is it gets passed on. But also, the more likely it gets passed on for superficial reasons.

When I triangulate between the trinkets that adorn marriage, I quickly find myself at intersection of children and commitment.

Chinese traditions tend to be quite direct about the children part:

• Pig + piglets necklace for the bride: "Have a lot of children!"
• Gifts of gold and money: "Prove you can raise a lot of children!"
• Fertility-related food on the menu: "Have a lot of children!"
• Lavish dinner banquet for guests: "Prove you can raise a lot of children!"
• Matrimonial bed decorations: "No seriously, have a lot of children!"

Western culture has made its traditions more subtle, but the fingerprints are still there.

Why the veil? The white dress? That strange ritual of throwing of rice at the couple — of throwing seed?

As for commitment, I sense that there's more at stake than just the vows between a bride and groom. If that were the case, marriage could be a private affair. That fact that tradition dictates otherwise is a hint.

The couple's mutual commitment is just one tree — the metaphorical forest is the network of guests assembled around them. No matter what trinkets or traditions adorn the aisle, the unspoken subtext goes something like this:

We hereby stake our reputations on this public display of intent, and we invite you, our families and communities, to bear witness and to hold us accountable.

As a new family, our road ahead is challenging and fraught with unknowns. We burn these boats behind us, in order to leave no choice but to forge ahead with conviction.

Should we stray from the path, we ask you to hold us to our word. And should we fail, you have every right to judge us.

If human beings were perfect parents and partners out of the box, then perhaps such ceremonies would be redundant. We'd all be better off saving the cash, spending the attention elsewhere, and otherwise investing in the future ahead.

But of course, people aren't perfect, and — here's the uneasy part — marriage is a game you can lose. Many do.

Merely going through the motions provides very little benefit. But taken in earnest, with care and deliberateness? Every layer of tradition, every superstition, every prayer, every good luck charm — is another pair of hands at the barn-raising of a brand new family.

Perhaps a sufficiently skilled, motivated, and fortunate couple can do it all on their own. But for something so significant, why not take all the help you can get?

The road ahead is challenging and fraught with unknowns, but I could not be more thrilled to forge ahead — with my family at my side and this glorious community of friends around the world.