I’m going to go on ahead of myself like I always do today and take a less educated guess that some of you might be a bit curious as to who I might be.
Consider it a shot in the dark if you’d like.
But it should be noted before we get started that I am one of those strange types of gentlemen who does not have an ordinary name.
You see, my name depends entirely upon you. You are free to call me whatever you wish my name to be.
And by the end of this post I hope you all might begin to understand what it is that I mean.
WHAT I MEAN
Perhaps, you are thinking about something that made you smile a short time ago. Perhaps someone wrote you a sweet text message, a poem, or a story if you will, and you did not know what to think, but it made you feel inspired about yourself and happier than you already were either way.
That is my name.
Or maybe there was a thunderstorm one afternoon. It was very windy with booms of thunder and lightning crashing intermittently, and the rain was coming down in droves, and you decided you should sing and dance in it using your umbrella as a microphone to sing with the heavens instead of trying to keep warm and dry underneath it.
That is my name.
One could even go so far as to remember a time when someone asked you to do something for them. So you did it to the best of your ability. Then they told you that what you did wasn’t good enough, so you said, “sorry for my mistake” and proceeded to try again a little harder. Only this time did you wisely meet and fully exceed their lofty expectations.
That is my name.
Or possibly there was a time when you felt down and out of whack because someone said something to you that you didn’t want to hear. But instead of getting mad, you patiently sat back and knew they didn’t mean it, because they just wanted to see how you would react. And instead you reacted with unwavering compassion.
That is my name.
Perhaps you were playing a game of chess with your child at some point in time, and you let him win just to see him smile a mile wide and dance around the house like a chicken. Then you played the game again and crushed his blooming ego in four simple moves—a scholar's mate, they call it—just to teach him a life long humbling lesson.
That is my name.
Or there was a day when you were running very late for work, and you saw an elderly couple stuck on the side of the road with a flat, struggling with all their might to put on the spare tire, so you pulled on over to help them. You asked them to relax while you changed it with your own two hands, making yourself even more late for work. And after it was all said and done, they thanked you with some lemonade, a hug, and a great big smile, and you said you're very welcome, and went along your merry way knowing you had made their day, without a care in the world as to whether or not you would get in trouble for being so late.
That is my name.
Perhaps a long lost memory filled with happiness lingered about your soul one lazy Sunday afternoon and wandered aimlessly through your mind all the way down to the bottom of your heart. This loving memory made you shed a tear of joy when you were somewhat sad and very tired, then you took an accidental catnap in a hammock basking beneath the sunshine, only to wake up a little bit surnburnt. Yet your mind felt refreshed, your heart revitalized, while the hum of an airplane wandered aimlessly around the sky.
That is my name.
Or maybe you went for an afternoon hike through a wilderness of aspen leaves, and saw that that they were dying with the same colorful hope of letting something go that you had been holding onto for way too long, and you felt a glowing sensation move through your soul when you said a peaceful prayer of rebirth and forgiveness because you had a feeling that something new and amazing was waiting for you right around the corner.
That is my name.
Perhaps you stood by staring stoned into a raging river of thawing snow lost in the ambient sound of nature, and you heard a silent voice through all the mental noise shout your name from an ethereal distance, only to strike a secret chord that echoed in every corner of your heart before you realized the kinetic reverberation bouncing around deep inside of you meant that you had indeed, found yourself again.
That is my name.
Or maybe you were lying in bed recently, seconds away from sleep, and you laughed out loud at something, an inside joke you remembered that was between you and a brand new beautiful friend. And you fell fast asleep with your dreams and a grin, as you thought to yourself, what an amazing way to end my day.
That is my name.
Or you could’ve been having a delicious breakfast of mushy, overcooked spaghetti and tomato gravy, and for a brief moment you slowed down to savor it because it was so goddamn good that you almost forgot what you were eating. Then you said a delicate thank you to the universe above as the clock shone 11:11 against the morning sun, and then the phone rang but you ignored it, and continued forth devouring the spaghetti because it was that damn good.
That is my name.
Maybe it is possible that you woke up one morning many, many, moons way back when, and decided that you wanted to try your damndest to make the world a better place with written words. And so you tried day in and day out, sometimes with, and without a doubt, but you kept going because you’re as creatively stubborn as they come, and you know that something oh so cosmic and spiritual that is out of your control, and not of this world, had a good reason to make it so, a long long time ago.
That is my name.
It is just as well perhaps, that it could’ve been a late October afternoon, and you went to a patched together festival of pumpkins and seasonal joy, and while there you finally met someone special with emerald eyes that you were always meant to meet. And while you two were walking through a maze of corn stalks, talking about the inner and outer ways one must take to fully find and be themselves, you suddenly realized why—and with a wink to the sky—you still pray every single damn day.
That is my name.
There could even stand a slight chance that perhaps your ears might be beginning to ring, your eyes slightly watering, and your soul starting to tingle as you are reading this.
That is also my name.
Or perhaps it was around midnight one cold and snowy evening, and the fire within your heart raged and tolled like a well-seasoned pile of knotty pine burning away in an antique wood burning stove. And your entire being felt all warm, cozy, fuzzy, and full of joy on the inside.
That is my name.
And last but never least, maybe you went for an early evening run, one dark and lonely night down a deserted suburban street, and as the moonlight shone reflective in a puddle below you—that you had choice but to jump over—like a light at the end of some tunnel, an idea moseyed its way into your heartfelt creative process as you landed on your own two feet, all the while splashing stagnant rainwater everywhere. And again you knew that your very own illuminated reflection was indeed, the light at the end of that damn tunnel.
That is my name.
And so it is by now that I hope all of you ladies and gentlemen understand what I mean.
And this may sound strange to some, but it's true when I say that we’ve had the meaning of my name wrong for the past two thousand and twenty two years.
Because while my name is a feeling unlike anything our hearts and souls have ever felt, it is one hundred and eleven percent more so a selfless act of salvation, and one that should never seek anything in return, especially something as silly as what you all call...validation.
And in case you were wondering my name is…
Love
And I’m far from being done.
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