"A rose by any other name would still smell as sweet."
Playing around with the most fundamental piece of my identity, my name, is an interesting journey. I am amazed at both the acceptance and resistance I've met to the idea. While some have been quick to make the change and honor what it symbolizes, others are confused as to why I'd change my name, why it matters or just really can't see me other than by the name they've previously called me. And it's all good. I have given people permission to call me what they feel they want to call me, at least during this great transition period. In time, I think the new name will stick and it will become as natural as any other name I've been called over the years.
As many of you have watched the unfolding of the tall penguin over the past year, you have witnessed many changes to my thoughts, feelings, and behavior. I am amazed to find people placing me into new boxes, labeling me with new judgments and creating new files for who they think I am. The terms "hippie", "raver", "party girl", "goddess", "writer", "mother hen", "fag hag" and even (never thought I'd get to wear this one) "slut" have been applied to me in recent months. It always makes me smile to hear how someone perceives me. I sometimes play with this, giving people just enough information to make a judgment and find that they will only interpret me according to the information given at the time in that particular context. We all do this. It's human nature. But it's fascinating to watch.
So who are we? What defines who you are? Is it what you do? But that changes. Are you defined by what you did yesterday, are doing today or what you will do tomorrow? Is it your beliefs? They change too. What about your thoughts or feelings...are they a basis for defining you? Alas, these are the most changeable aspects of who we are. Passing blips on the cerebral radar. When all this falls away, who are you really? Is there some unchangeable part of you that always is? Is it possible to meet each other in that place, in that place beyond language and labels and judgment and doing and thinking and feeling? Is it ever possible for me to really be with you? Or are we to be forever caught in relating to the changeable, to the ever-malleable personas we create for ourselves and others?
I long to lead an authentic life. I long to touch that part of you that is the same as that part of me. To sit with all that is. To be. Just to be.