More than just a name

What’s in a name, specifically, my name?

Yesterday at a memorial service, someone I knew well a long while ago could not remember my name. I was somewhat stunned, but masked it. Had my husband been with me, I am certain he would have remembered. Perhaps I was out of context. Several weeks ago in a water-aerobics class I have been attending for several years, although this instructor’s tenure is closer to a year, she played the name game pointing at individuals around the circle. She knew most names, but not mine. It instantly made me feel separate. I was surprised because we had had several deep conversations and sharing after class; I always call her by name. 

Both experiences touched some deep hurt and longing in me.

I noticed I know so many people at my little gym, know them by name and use those names. Not many reply back so personally. This, I observed, after the water-aerobics experience, and yet it did not bother me. I was merely watching.

When I met with an editor recently and I compared my spiritual journals to Carl Jung’s Red Book, she remarked: “His is about who he was, yours is the what.”

My spiritual director/shamanic counselor intimated that my desire to publish a book may be rooted in acknowledgment. Granted, he didn’t say that was the entire push. He also said I was be struggling with identity … who I am right now (my take anyway).

All of these moments strung together contain a message I am attempting to decipher.

My current work is more about WHAT is unfolding than the WHO as the editor suggested. She also urged me to articulate more clearly what the one take-away for readers is in my book.

When I blurted out to my counselor that I didn’t know what the next step was, he responded: “Yes you do. You have a map. You wrote the map. It’s all in your book.

So right now, I am content being the maybe nameless what and not so much the who. The what that God is shaping into the who I will become.

• How do I feel when I am recognized by name?
• Do I attempt to do that for others?
• How do I feel when I seem anonymous?
• What do I need to be acknowledged in my life?
• How comfortable am I in my own skin?




another
morning
at the gym


laps
are done


my
body is
showered
and clothed


and a
buddy
I haven't
seen in
months,
peers
around 
the corner
with a
BIG smile


she greets
me like
a long,
lost sister


I call her
by name


I sense she
has forgotten
mine


this time,
it doesn't
matter


because
she sees
me for who
I am:
more
than just
a name

BY THE WAY, THIS IS POST #100; WAHOO! A MILESTONE.