Identity #6: What's in a name?

Isn't it interesting that, in a warm and supportive community such as Blip, we discover all sorts of things about each other's identities, but for the most part have no idea of "real" names?

Don't get me wrong, I love the anonymity of Blip and enjoy the safety and security of being able to hide behind a nickname. But I also love the fact that a few of the people I have come to connect with in this safe environment know my name. It's good to be known.

I don't think my parents chose my name for any reason other than the fact that they liked it, but I don't know for certain. But I do know that now it's as much part of me as my labels, my fingerprints, my retinal patterns, my inner child and my potential. If not more so, because my name, and what it means to people who know me, exists independently from my physical being and will, I guess, last for longer.

In 1863, Charitie Bancroft paraphrased from the prophet Isaiah when she wrote a hymn I think I'd like at my funeral (not that that's imminent, as far as I'm aware!):

My name is graven on His hands,
My name is written on His heart.
I know that while in Heaven He stands
No tongue can bid me thence depart.

That's the kind of identity I'll settle for.