I was reading an email this morning about a child's perspective of what love is. My favorite quote is this: "When someone loves you, the way they say your name is different. You just know that your name is safe in their mouth." This got me to thinking about my previous week, my life, and my loves. I say loves with pride, because I am fortunate that I have been in love before and I know I will again. But this child's statement puts love in a simplistic form that can be easily understood.
Think about it, when you say the name of a family member (or pet) you somewhat say it with a smile. When you hear your name come from the lips of someone who loves you, you can hear the smile on their face as well. If you were to hear your name from someone in passing you can definitely feel the unfamiliarity of the word as it escapes with their voice. A name holds power, a name can strike fear or infuse strength, the way the name is said is magical.
For this child to say "you know that your name is safe in their mouth" is moving to me. I noticed it this prior week, how only the kindest and most moving people were given my name, and when the word came from their mouth it was captivating to me. Whereas people that I'd known longer threw around my name with a lazy flair, there was no love, there was no safety. I'm not worried about that, they can continue to lazily throw my name about in their own careless way, I'm not worried because it is their loss. They miss out on knowing the true me, and the bonus is that they've created a space where someone else did get to know the true me. I want my name to be safe in the mouths of those that I care about, and luckily in life you get to choose who is able to care about yourself.
This kind of goes along with my plan of dismissing the old who don't contribute in my life. Saying goodbye to the hi friends. And saying hello to the friends who take care of my name. On the same note I want to be able to say another's name with the same care.
Totally random thought: As we were on our flight home my roomie from the hotel witnessed a middle eastern male board the plane wearing a turban. My roomie proceeded to say "oh shit" and make some comments about this to another Oklahoman about the passenger. He looked at me to include me in the conversation but I gave him a blank stare. In my head I'm thinking why are you being an ass about him? Does he not have the same rights as we to fly the skies? I wanted to voice these words but I did not. I feel guilty because I did not. I know it's not my place to right all the wrongs in the world, and I feel good that I did not contribute in the beratement of another fellow human being. But I should have said something...and now that moment has passed and I will always live in the slight shame that I didn't speak up on something that I cared about.
I will never say something about another person that I would not want said about myself. I will perform no actions against another creature that I would not want performed against me. I will do no wrong to others when wrong is not what they deserve. These are my beliefs and what I strive to live by, but why can I not speak up for those who are living their lives like me, one day at a time.
As the final passengers finish boarding there is one guy who walks on with a box covered in a black plastic bag, the plastic bag is secured by massive amounts of duct tape so the box maintains it's shape. My roommate looks at me and we both bust out laughing. It's funny what events in our culture has made humorous given certain situations.
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