Naming Yourself
Daenerys, Hippolyta, and the definition of your name
Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)
Walt Whitman
Most of us don’t play a part in naming ourselves. Even before our arrival, there are plans and expectations for what we might be, the role we’ll play, and the contributions we’ll make.
Throughout our lives, we’ll even collect names, kind and not-so-kind, that further define or describe us. If we’re lucky we’ll play a role in creating these names although most times we don’t.
Funny enough, some of the most affectionate names and nicknames we collect are related to our professions or accomplishments. Doc. Teach.’ Chef.
But what’s in a name? And what isn’t?
Daenerys
One of the trends I didn’t participate in, but really enjoyed was the naming convention people adopted from Game of Thrones.
For example:
Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the First of Her Name, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Protector of the Seven Kingdoms, the Mother of Dragons, the Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, the Unburnt, the Breaker of Chains.
It was entertaining to see people adapt their own names to this convention and fill these statements with meanings even if they were a little silly.
What I think this highlights is a newly evolved (as in the last 200,000 years or so) human fascination with defining ourselves and describing the legacy or history to which we belong.
For much of recorded history, humans have asked “Who am I and why am I here?” For all our indifference and doubt, we long for our days to mean something and for our lives to matter.
It’s like we inherently know that this animating essence we can’t touch, point to, or explain is meant to be directed toward something, even if that something is just NOT our 9-5.
In all this writing, I have intended to convey that this thing, this reason for being, is equal parts discoverable and buildable. Equal parts permanent and changeable.
The aim is for us to examine all the experiences and artifacts of our lives (inclusive of the nicknames) to determine that essence that is uniquely us and move courageously in the direction of new dreams.
On this journey, I have sought to encourage us all to realize who we are and redefine ourselves in the light of this state of being. I’ve been asking us to identify ourselves as we fundamentally are.
I’ve essentially been asking us to name ourselves.
Hippolyta
In one of the most impactful episodes of television I’ve ever watched, I learned a powerful lesson on the power of self-definition I’d love to share with you. I’m talking about episode 7 of Lovecraft Country titled ‘I Am.’
Lovecraft Country is a wild ride, so I’ll do my best to make it brief. If you’re interested, Lovecraft is streaming free.
In this series set in 1950s Chicago, a married couple, George and Hippolyta (played by the incredible Aunjanue Ellis), work together to create a guidebook, The Safe Negro Travel Guide.
The arrangement has them both working together to map out trips and organize findings, but only George goes out on the road “for safety.” Hippolyta, his wife, and a seemingly far more skilled mathematician and explorer, stays home to mind their daughter.
Throughout the season, we see Hippolyta show and express frustration at this arrangement and verbalize her desire to go out on the road, to no avail. Later, after George has died under mysterious circumstances, Hippolyta goes out on her own journey to continue the guidebook work.
After a strange series of events, Hippolyta is pulled into a portal, meets shadowy extraterrestrial figures, and wakes up in an empty enclosed white futuristic room. She dons the jumpsuit left for her and tries to figure out where she is and how she might escape.
When a large (gorgeous) female being opens the door to the room, Hippolyta asks who and what she is, and the being responds, “I am.”
When Hippolyta in a state of panic and confusion shouts “You can’t keep me here!” The being responds, “You are not in a prison.” Then leaves Hippolyta in this room where she runs familiar math equations in her head to make sense of her circumstances.
Later when this figure returns, as Hippolyta is attempting to make her escape, she reiterates to Hippolyta “You are not in a prison.” Then continues as follows:
“Where do you want to be? Name yourself … Name yourself. Where do you want to be? Name it. Who do you want to be? Name it. Name it.”
Hippolyta responds, “I want to be dancing on stage in Paris with Josephine Baker!” after which it appears her consciousness is seemingly transported into a version of herself in Paris dancing at the right of none other than Josephine Baker.
What follows is Hippolyta’s adventure through space and time redefining what it means to be Hippolyta.
She begins as a showgirl in Paris, then a warrior in an all-women army akin to the Agojie in West Africa, then back in bed with her late husband (as “George’s wife”), then finally as the comic book space superhero her daughter had created and drawn, Orithyia Blue.
In the conversation with her late husband, George, in this place outside of time, she shares with him that for so much of her life, she had been shrinking; that somewhere between childhood and her adult life she began shrinking and was already “so small” when they had met.
She enthusiastically expresses confusion eclipsed by excitement about her waking up in a world “Where I can name myself anything…”
And finally, in the presence of her loving, but somewhat inattentive husband she renames herself saying:
“I am Hippolyta. Discoverer.”
In this episode, we see Hippolyta grapple with culture, race, and identity and finally reclaim herself as the thing she’s always been, a curious, eager, discoverer.
No one knows how big you want to be. No one can see who you want to be.
Only you can.
And you are, in fact, in a world where you can name yourself anything. You are not in a prison.
The challenge Hippolyta had was that the roles she found herself lost in—of wife, mother, aunt, and stay-at-home partner on the guidebook—were roles she loved and, when given the opportunity, returned to.
However, she still traveled through life as a small, shrunken, quiet version of herself robbing the world of her gifts as much as she robbed herself.
Hippolyta eventually returns to Earth by naming herself “mother” with a fully furnished sense of self.
On this journey, I am not encouraging you to quit your current life and throw care to the wind. I am asking that you gently and curiously examine your life to determine if you are living the most fulfilling life that only your unique design can provide you.
Walt Whitman said “Do I contradict myself? Very well then I contradict myself, (I am large, I contain multitudes.)”
I am asking you to take stock of those multitudes, own your gifts, identify your propensities for excellence, and build, or rather reconstruct, your life on those things.
In this process of naming yourself, maybe you don’t change your name, but maybe you move doctor, teacher, mother, or friend out of the way for a while to redefine your name and existence for you.
You don’t owe anyone cohesion among your identities or consistency of being. We are each meant to be having our own experience of growth and expansion.
If something no longer works, fire it. Replace it. Rewrite the role. Especially if it’s yours. The only thing static is static.
When you introduce yourself and say “I am,” what are you affirming? What are you saying exists in the world because you do?
Are you affirming that you are an artist of life? A nurturer of children? A rider of motorcycles? An organizer supreme? A brewer of coffee?
Who are you?
It may shift from moment to moment and room to room, but what matters most is who you say you are. Who you define and see yourself as.
The thread running through all the scenes I’ve mentioned in my posts (Let Them Thunder, A Whole New World, Daenerys, and Hippolyta) is self-determination and a bold expression of self. This, though unintentional, is for a reason.
I want you to be as big as you can be. As effective as you can be. As “you” as you can muster.
That’s the only gift you have worth giving. To yourself, your communities, and to the world. There’s no such thing as two-of-a-kind when it comes to humans or souls.
Charge up your name with meaning and become it.
Become your own wellspring.
Of love, of writing, of organization, of corporate excellence, of whatever you choose. Whatever “it” is, however public or private, become the embodiment of it.
Where do you want to be?
NAME IT.
Who do you want to be?
NAME IT.
No more shrinking.
With so so much love,
Melvyn 🤟🏿
