We don’t get to choose our names
But we can choose to serve them well—even with silly little poems (#34)
It turns out I am wrong, at least for the first statement of this post, for some of us have the will to choose differently. proves with her poem the inherent capacity we all have to reinvent ourselves and claim our name. In response to her prompt to contemplate names, I have a poem and a few introductory notes I wrote some time ago. I had them sit in the drafts folder, not sure whether I should share them or delete them. It turns out their time has come to face the light.
As a child, I didn’t like my name. I considered it peculiar and wished I had a more common name instead, such as Maria or Ann or something. I mean no disrespect to the Marias and Anns of this world, but please consider my age at the time I had these thoughts; six years old and starting school. I just wanted to fit in, not to stand out.
I soon discovered a variety of names far stranger than mine and my silly wish for a different name withered. In its place, grew an understanding—for names are mirrors—and love bloomed for every new name I encountered. There were no common names just as there were no common people, they were all unique.
Years later, as a teenager, I met a bard, who, when I introduced myself to him, smiled at me and said, “May you always have light in your life.” I returned the smile and thanked him. My reply was sincere, “I will try,” I said.
Sometimes I forget, I do my best though, to keep the light on. My name, by the way, means ‘luminous’ in Greek.
If I were to dream tonight I would dream of drifting clouds. If I were to be a cloud I would glow under the sun. If I were to be a sun I would be a hidden one. If I were to hide somewhere I would crawl inside myself. I would burn, inflate, and burst into countless stars ablaze and the myriad parts of me would become the void itself. In this dream I call my life in my waking state, that is, I am just the shine that sparks through the eye’s darkest hole.
Really wonderful - that opening stanza is so striking 💜 And then big feels all the way to the end. I didn't like my name (Richard), and then went by a nickname (Dick) for years, but my family always had other names for me: Rich, Richy, and so on. I used to hate Rich. And then one day a few years back, I started to appreciate all the varieties, and now I love all the various names people use, and am happy with whatever people want to call me. Naming is definitely a long and interesting journey, particularly with regards to the self. Love that your name means 'luminous' in Greek too.
I was just contemplating your name and trying to discern its origin/meaning. Thanks for shedding some light on the matter!
I love your poem. I can definitely identify with the feeling that life is one big dream, and that all of us are made of light in a way we will probably never fully understand (cue clichés about a knife being unable to cut itself, etc.).
I found your paragraphs before the poem to be quite poetic in their own right, which makes sense. Once you train your mind to write poetry, that poetic sense tends to lend itself to anything you put your pen to. The rhyme, whether "intentional" or not, between "withered" and "mirrors" is especially sonorant.