The power of a name

To name something is to take away its power.

Rumpelstiltskin. The Doctor's real name. Awkward moment. Irrational anger. Fear.

I have a hard time remembering names, even the names of people I've known forever or see every day, I still forget their names sometimes.

My mom talked to me about how some people say things that she doesn't like, the kind of things I hear people say and feel angry about. What does one do in that situation? How is it resolved? Ignoring it? Probably not the best option, that leads to festering. Name the effect in your own head? Acknowledging anger helps, but isn't that more like a symptom of something else? Name what just happened that led to the feeling? That one is usually difficult. Saying how negative someone else is being, it puts both the other person on the spot, and you in the fire. Though when you name it properly and justly, can the fire really burn you? Does the same angel protect you who protected Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego?

Maybe she will if you know her name. Maybe she sees that you know it in your heart.

Either way, the thing that was named has become a fixed point, and lost its ability to follow and lead you in quite the same way. Nailing a moment or feeling down with its own name; I am willing to call that power.

Letters

I don't write letters anymore. By that I just mean I haven't written one in quite a while, maybe almost a year or so. I used to write them more.

I wrote one to Stephen Speilberg letting him know he should remember my name because I have big plans, and once they are achieved, he will be very impressed. I wrote a letter to the woman who did the voice of Cortana in the Halo video game series after seeing her in a play in Portland. I said "I was pleasantly surprised to see Cortana playing Elizabeth Bennet."

Yep, I'm a silly little boy at times.

In addition to letters telling people to remember my name because I am going to be big someday, I also wrote letters telling people to remember my name because I wanted them to have it. Love letters. I miss writing those, or maybe the excuse to write them...or just everything about them.

There's something powerful behind writing down words, especially by hand. Maybe it's the whole real world part of it, or the fact that it cannot be deleted, or the other fact that very few things in the real world show evidence of being touched by a human, especially people.

Maybe it's the idea that all that time and physical effort, although it's generally simple, has a very specific audience of one person. Emails can be copied and sent like nothing, and blogs...well, not that more than a dozen people have ever glanced over mine, but it's not very personal to anyone other than myself. A letter though, is a private work, generally a labor of love in some form, which is a special kind of special that only seems rare to those who don't see it often enough. --I think that's where we all are right now.

Who names streets?

That's an honest question. Who names streets? I want to name some. Like Electrica Way, or Gumbo Jones Terr. or Steve.

A life by any other name

Last night I was having pizza with a friend who asked me about my experience dating a specific person (let's call her Lady Jesus). This was kind of a surprise as I had not realized I dated Lady Jesus. I thought about it for a bit. When I first met this girl we talked for quite a few hours about all sorts of things. It was nice. Then the next few weeks we saw a couple plays together and generally hung out a bit. Then we didn't. It did follow the general form of what's known as "dating" but it was never really named.

Did I date Lady Jesus? Can something be some thing without being named that thing? Apparently it can, at least to someone else. If you believe that yes, a rose would smell as sweet if it were called a Snordgutzel, then must also think a thing can be whatever you do or do not name it.

Apparently, unbeknownst to me I had lived unintentionally. Life happened on its own accord without me forcing my overthinking on it or invoking any word-prisons on it. I guess I'll take it as it is; a series of semi-intentional dates, a natural story arc that never really ended, but rather faded. Though I should stop trying to name it now, because those life moments without names exist just the same.

Just like Lady Jesus.