Your Daily Miracle: Your Given Name

Merry has started calling me "Momsies."  For a kid who is not generally sentimental, I find this pretty touching.  Elspeth, on the other hand, expressed her sense of self a year or two ago by switching from "Mommy" to "Mom."  Someone asked me once if I cared.  Nah.  I don't care what they call me--(wait for it)--as long as it's pleasant and loving.  I've had a series of names over the years, and I have been deeply fortunate to receive them as gifts and blessings.

I loved naming my children.  As each silent life unfolded inside me, hidden from sight, it felt wonderful to name those mysteries: You are Merry.  You are Elspeth.  You are Beatrix.  I felt as though I began to draw close to each of the girls in real relationship even before they took their first breath of this world's good air.  

And Martin and I named each of the girls after strong, independent women we admire.  Merry took her name from my mother-in-law, a woman who dedicated her life to the service and love of others (my father's name is actually Meredith as well!); Elspeth is named after Elspeth Huxley, author and champion of women's rights in East Africa (where I grew up); Beatrix is from Beatrix Potter, of course, a deeply intelligent and creative naturalist and author and artist as well as a fiercely autonomous woman who donated her land for the common good.  I love the heritage that each name holds for each of my smart girls.

And as the girls grow older and more and more explicitly themselves, I love hearing the names they choose for themselves: I am musician.  I am friend.  I am dancer, writer.  I am funny.

And we, and our community, name these precious children as well:  You are loved, inherently valuable, a wonder, brave, strong, compassionate.

Our love names children, seals them as they are sealed in baptism (another naming ceremony of sorts) with goodness and hope.  When Love names another person, the names are deeply true and speak to the real core of each of us, reminding us that we are valuable beyond measure.

But when Power names others, the names become deeply flawed and inherently cruel: Not Good Enough.  Shameful.  You're Nothing.  Power names to control, to dominate, to master.  Love names freely with open hands. 

As a writer, naming things and naming people is immensely important to me.  But I must always be careful, diligent, humble.  Because words, and especially names, hold immense power.  Once released, they can't be taken back--and it takes such care and so much time to replace a damaging name with a true one.

“We name mostly in order to control but what is worth loving does not want to be held within the bounds of too narrow a calling. In many ways love has already named us before we can even begin to speak back to it, before we can utter the right words or understand what has happened to us or is continuing to happen to us: an invitation to the most difficult art of all, to love without naming at all.” ― David Whyte, Consolations: The Solace, Nourishment and Underlying Meaning of Everyday Words

(I heard David Whyte for the first time on Krista Tippet's On Being--in this wonderful podcast, he reads poetry and talks about his work and spirituality as well as his close friendship with one of my favorite philosopher-poets, John O'Donohue, who died last year.)

As each of my daughters gained speech, they began naming things. (I actually used to tinker with the idea of teaching them nonsensical names for things but denied myself the pleasure).  

The world's origin myth revolves around naming things--animals and people.  And each of our origin stories center on names, too.  We want to know what things are, who people are, how to communicate, to get what we need and to give what we have.  

Today I named each of my daughters, not just by calling them by their given name and by many sweet nicknames, but I named in so many other ways too--by the tone I used when I spoke to them; by the words I chose; by the way we entered as a family into the world this morning.  And they took those names with them out into the world and likewise named others:  Friend, Teacher, One Whom I Enjoy.  

As the girls grow older and continue to go their own ways, I want so much to love them freely.  I don't want my own expectations to name them falsely, nor do I want them to feel pressured to grow into names that are too narrow for them.  I do want them always, deeply, abidingly, to know that their true name is always Loved, Worthwhile, One Whom Delights--no matter what they do, who they become, or what names they choose.