WHILE many spent last weekend recognising a political anniversary, I had a person one. I turned 25. Any question of how to spend the day was, thankfully, taken out of my indecisive hands: two friends decided it was going to be their wedding day.

Events like that remind you of the most important things in life. What counts isn’t wealth, success or fame, but having people close to you who you care about. It does also help if you’ve got a ceilidh and an open bar.

The ceremony was outside Dairsie Castle in warm Fife sunshine. It wasn’t long before the tears began. I found myself fighting them back a few times. Before the vows, close friends and family shared wee anecdotes. A few phrases stuck with me: the pal back from Australia crying while explaining what it meant for two of her friends to be in love; the groom’s brother describing him as a “lanky dork”; an emotional father sharing his pride.

This was the first time friends of mine have got married and it was more than enough to wash away any lingering doubts about what it is or what it means. Sharing stories. A booming jazz band. Wild dancing and thumping tunes. Romance. The clinking of glasses. Reunions. Reminiscing. Families joined together.

If you plan to spend the rest of your life with someone, why shouldn’t you celebrate by surrounding yourself with love and happiness to recognise that? While weddings can be old-fashioned, they can equally be revamped to be intelligent, egalitarian, and caring.

Personifying all of those three graces, the bride spoke of her original hesitancy about the history of marriage subsuming the role of women. That was important to reflect on, as were her words about her partner.

Kindness, she explained, is often a compliment thrown his way. But do we spend enough time reflecting on why kindness matters? Its calmness, consistency, and compassion? Speaking to some of his closest friends, I noticed small things: what he had said or done in fairly innocuous situations. In hindsight they spoke volumes about what it means to be kind, and consider others before yourself.

We spoke about chance meetings. I met the groom on February 22, 2013, in a cafe. I overheard two strangers talking about an independence event that I’d organised the night before. So in a moment of social exuberance, I introduced myself.

I’ve always found it fascinating how single, split-second events like that ricochet for years. Through a series of wonderful coincidences, I also ended up friends and then co-workers with the bride-to-be. She’s undoubtedly one of the smartest people I’ve had the fortune to know.

Amidst the small-talk, folk shared their own chance meetings from musical tours, university, flat-sharing, and festivals. Weddings have a powerful way of joining together an eclectic mix of happy strangers. Soon Anstruther Town Hall was shaking under the collective bouncing to Bruce Springsteen’s Born To Run, with the happy couple lifted up upon our shoulders.

As a political person, I’m perhaps guilty of giving way to sweeping ideas of hope and change. You find yourself emotionally invested in moments and movements that could herald a new world – Obama’s election, the student movement, the Arab Spring, the independence campaign.

But this weekend, as I reflected on another year, I found a far deeper source of hope. It is found in the kindness of others. It is found in the everyday relationships we build and how we celebrate them. It is found in these extraordinary people that surround us, what they do, who they are, and how they carry themselves. Their dignity, light, and love.


A shout-out for a kind-hearted councillor

Speaking of compassion and love, I think kind-hearted councillor Mary Lockhart deserves a shout-out.

Lockhart was elected as a councillor for The Lochs in Fife a month ago. This was a vote of confidence in her lifelong commitment to creating a better world through her community-focused, socialist, and peaceful politics.

She received a hefty dose of flak for speaking out in favour of independence from within the Labour Party. Despite that experience, she remains committed to her principles and public service.

So it was disappointing to see a good person like her become the victim of shady opportunism, as Tory and LibDem opponents misrepresented comments she’d made for the sake of a cheap headline.

Lockhart quoted Martin Niemöller’s poem "At first they came…", a famous portrayal of the dangers of staying silent when persecution does not impact us directly. Bizarrely this was twisted into claims she’d called Labour Party officials Nazis! Silly stuff.

Everyone I’ve spoken to has high respect for Lockhart. Having heard her tale of being arrested protesting against nuclear weapons, she certainly has mine. Keep going, councillor.