Friday, April 16, 2004
Stolen Fire
eh.
She reads my mind, again.
Jaw drop moment. Close jaw, grind teeth, get on with it.
Okay, at the risk of sounding horribly unoriginal, this, I swear is the piece I've been burning to write all day. Honest. Cross my little beady eyes... err heart i mean.
*****
What's in a name?
A name. Granted at birth. A birthright.
But what exactly is it to us? What significance does it hold?
Is it a token of our parents' affections? Or a marker of their hopes and ambitions for us? Their hopes and aspirations - On us. Branded for life.
My name. X******** - a true tongue twister. (She sells sea shells by the sea shore looksh shpectacularly shilly in comparison) Especially in the united kingdom where fate has funnily enough thrown me now for coming up to a decade. Funny, that. The whole extended family on both sides bears trendy christian names, even mum and dad. 'cept me and my bro. Gee thanks, mum and dad.
Funny that, for an english-speaking family. And funny that we're actually baptised as is, in full jawbreaking hanyupinyin. Least I am. My bro's name is intuitively pronounceable, even to the foreign tongue. sigh. thanks, mum and dad. or actually, grandma.
The ex used to believe that our birth-names made us who we are. Hence Beautiful-Sound : so, so in love with singing. She was always singing her parents' praises, oh, so, so grateful to her father whom she was so madly in love with, she carried his picture as a teenaged youth in her wallet to gush over to her friends - isn't he cute? isn't he handsome? (eh. pause. must be a girly thing, move swiftly on)
And what of myself, "Reflect Nobility" (or somesuch)...
She thought I was too noble. (balderdash! bollocks!! and other rude words beginning with the letter "B"! cue sesame street theme)
Well, pah. What then of my silently reclusive sibling, "reflect glory"? Or perhaps his time is yet to come.
I think not. I can't believe that a birthing "gift" to us shapes us inexorably in the days that follow, free willl be damned. That like it or not, destiny steers us to fulfill our name's sakes.
I do not - will not believe in predestiny.
Names are merely something concrete with which to remember our Namers. Whether we resent them or no.
We came of dust. We were born of them. These were the first words they said to us.
(Well, most of us, anyhow. Some unlucky souls are baptised in fire, rather than water.)
- or perhaps, they give other people something concrete to remember us by.
Are "chosen" names any less significant?
We assume monikers online. For many they are exquisite masks of perfection. Names we aspire towards and yearn to be in our dreams, in our virtuality.
(Silversurfer. Beautifulgal. Belgarath)
For still others names become masks of deception. Masks to hide behind. Names of Power behind which their insecurities are concealed. Small man syndromes manifest themselves predictably in toweringly tall names.
Still others craft names that sound pretty, but mean little. (Aesvalone : what's that anyhow? A brand of abalone?)
Some craft names that carry hidden meanings - DrGoat - or not so hidden mesages : re-minisce. Pieces of the puzzle.
(And on IRC, G-------- / D-------. The canine. The faithful friend.)
Then there are the names we choose to wear in daily life.
Christian names, acquired for some in later life rather than at birth. Chosen by themselves.
Confirmation names.
Names, chosen simply because. To be recognised by law.
I chose.
L- The Physician. Someone I already am?
Or someone I can only aspire to strive towards. Big shoes to fill.
I'm not sure why I chose it. But I know it was important, somehow. Shame. Gareth sounds so nice. Or Luca. sigh.
What's in a name?
Which are the names that are more significant to us, in this life.
The names chosen for us at birth, stamped into our souls before the beginnings of our existences. Or at least before the flowering of our sentiences.
Or the name - the mantles that we, mulling over at length, finally decide to wear.
And which are the names more significant, to the people around us - our friends and acquaintences? The Words they see, smell, and feel us by. The shapes they associate with our souls.
Where do the two meet?
It's a tough call, innit.
*****
A rose, by any other name...
Would a stranger's eyes have been any less intriguing because of the name s/he wore?
Shakespeare, a genius or a fool?
eh.
She reads my mind, again.
Jaw drop moment. Close jaw, grind teeth, get on with it.
Okay, at the risk of sounding horribly unoriginal, this, I swear is the piece I've been burning to write all day. Honest. Cross my little beady eyes... err heart i mean.
*****
What's in a name?
A name. Granted at birth. A birthright.
But what exactly is it to us? What significance does it hold?
Is it a token of our parents' affections? Or a marker of their hopes and ambitions for us? Their hopes and aspirations - On us. Branded for life.
My name. X******** - a true tongue twister. (She sells sea shells by the sea shore looksh shpectacularly shilly in comparison) Especially in the united kingdom where fate has funnily enough thrown me now for coming up to a decade. Funny, that. The whole extended family on both sides bears trendy christian names, even mum and dad. 'cept me and my bro. Gee thanks, mum and dad.
Funny that, for an english-speaking family. And funny that we're actually baptised as is, in full jawbreaking hanyupinyin. Least I am. My bro's name is intuitively pronounceable, even to the foreign tongue. sigh. thanks, mum and dad. or actually, grandma.
The ex used to believe that our birth-names made us who we are. Hence Beautiful-Sound : so, so in love with singing. She was always singing her parents' praises, oh, so, so grateful to her father whom she was so madly in love with, she carried his picture as a teenaged youth in her wallet to gush over to her friends - isn't he cute? isn't he handsome? (eh. pause. must be a girly thing, move swiftly on)
And what of myself, "Reflect Nobility" (or somesuch)...
She thought I was too noble. (balderdash! bollocks!! and other rude words beginning with the letter "B"! cue sesame street theme)
Well, pah. What then of my silently reclusive sibling, "reflect glory"? Or perhaps his time is yet to come.
I think not. I can't believe that a birthing "gift" to us shapes us inexorably in the days that follow, free willl be damned. That like it or not, destiny steers us to fulfill our name's sakes.
I do not - will not believe in predestiny.
Names are merely something concrete with which to remember our Namers. Whether we resent them or no.
We came of dust. We were born of them. These were the first words they said to us.
(Well, most of us, anyhow. Some unlucky souls are baptised in fire, rather than water.)
- or perhaps, they give other people something concrete to remember us by.
Are "chosen" names any less significant?
We assume monikers online. For many they are exquisite masks of perfection. Names we aspire towards and yearn to be in our dreams, in our virtuality.
(Silversurfer. Beautifulgal. Belgarath)
For still others names become masks of deception. Masks to hide behind. Names of Power behind which their insecurities are concealed. Small man syndromes manifest themselves predictably in toweringly tall names.
Still others craft names that sound pretty, but mean little. (Aesvalone : what's that anyhow? A brand of abalone?)
Some craft names that carry hidden meanings - DrGoat - or not so hidden mesages : re-minisce. Pieces of the puzzle.
(And on IRC, G-------- / D-------. The canine. The faithful friend.)
Then there are the names we choose to wear in daily life.
Christian names, acquired for some in later life rather than at birth. Chosen by themselves.
Confirmation names.
Names, chosen simply because. To be recognised by law.
I chose.
L- The Physician. Someone I already am?
Or someone I can only aspire to strive towards. Big shoes to fill.
I'm not sure why I chose it. But I know it was important, somehow. Shame. Gareth sounds so nice. Or Luca. sigh.
What's in a name?
Which are the names that are more significant to us, in this life.
The names chosen for us at birth, stamped into our souls before the beginnings of our existences. Or at least before the flowering of our sentiences.
Or the name - the mantles that we, mulling over at length, finally decide to wear.
And which are the names more significant, to the people around us - our friends and acquaintences? The Words they see, smell, and feel us by. The shapes they associate with our souls.
Where do the two meet?
It's a tough call, innit.
*****
A rose, by any other name...
Would a stranger's eyes have been any less intriguing because of the name s/he wore?
Shakespeare, a genius or a fool?
