No-menclature
“Don’t say my name!”
“Well, what do I do when I need to get your attention? Say ‘Hey, you!’?”
“Yes.”
I live with Rumpelstilskin. I’d rather he not tear himself in two, so I must abide. Still waiting for the reams of freshly spun gold, though.
A relationship that goes the distance requires both tension and affinity. I’m happy to be seen, he is not. For someone that doesn’t want to be seen, hearing your name can feel exposing. One time, I told him a theory I read that cats don’t like loud music because they’re afraid it gives away their location. He laughed?
Alan Watts once recounted the story of a Buddhist teacher who held up a matchbook to his students:
“What is this?” the teacher asked.
“It’s a matchbook” they replied.
“No, it isn’t.” Then he threw it at them.
“That’s what it is.”
Just as a map is not the territory, a name does not encapsulate the person. It bears contemplation whether a name is too much and not enough. Too much because of the power we wield and not enough because of the risk of misunderstanding. A name can unlock a memory, carry associations and connotations that bear no resemblance to the person standing in front of you.
[Redacted] has been standing in front of me for 10 years.
A relationship that goes the distance requires both tension and affinity. Affinity prevents the seemingly innocuous from becoming the profane. I, too, feel my skin crawl at the sound of my full first name. We all have our quirks.