‘What’s your name?’
It’s one of the first questions a person may ask and the answer rattles off our tongues as easily as saying hello. Yet the label that identifies us and helps distinguish us from the other X billions around the planet is something that is mostly taken for granted. A name may have a meaning handed down through history. For example, Jacob means ‘heel’ or ‘deceiver’, Peter ‘rock’ or ‘stone’. To those who have bestowed the title, perhaps the meaning is more personal; a grandparent’s name, a famous film or music star, a celebrated man or woman from the past. We hear it from birth and it infuses with our identity so that to slander the name is to slander its owner. But do we ever fully own our name?
A name is a gift. It is a privilege also but who has ever earned it? When I create a character in a novel much time is taken to choose the right name. Some have a special significance and offer a clue as to their role or destiny as the story unfolds. Others are personal to me alone. Some deserve their names through the trials they face, some are tarred by the decisions they make.
My own name fell from an unanswered cry. It was neither desired nor despised but came as a result of a lack of mercy. The people who gave me my name are ignorant of their actions. It was not born out of love but loss. Silence was my father and to have a voice my mother gave me this name. Because of it I can now declare my soul. The name has set me free from a prison of forced solitude and ensures balance has the chance to be redeemed.
Never dismiss your name. Regardless of what it means or who has given it to you take it as your own and shape it to your will. After all, it now belongs to you and that means everything.