A few months ago, Brynja realized that she has more names than just the one, and now when you ask her what her name is she’ll rattle off the whole thing, Brynja Astrid Eivor Tjerngren. If you listen closely, however, you’ll notice that what she really says is “Brynja Asbjørn Eivor Tjerngren.” Obviously it makes just as much sense to share the dog’s name as to share Farmor’s. 🙂
We are born with no identity,
Except that bestowed on us by others.
We are somebody’s daughters,
Somebody’s sisters,
Somebody’s sons or brothers.
Somebody’s firstborn, or best hope,
Somebody’s own dream unfulfilled,
Somebody’s religion perhaps, or class,
Someone else’s strong wishes willed.
We grow into these things for a while,
These identity mantles we wear,
They help us define who we are,
Till they get far too heavy to bear.
Then we cast them off, often with struggle,
Throw them to the proverbial floor,
Deny that all these things define us,
For we know deep inside we are more.
So off we head on our own pathways,
On our journeys to find our true self,
To find who we are on our own,
When our history is left on the shelf.
But through troubles and time we discover,
Though we may stand on a distant shore,
We are indeed all those things that defined us,
But we also are more,
So much more.
Thanks, Ken! 🙂
Farmor and Asbjorn – I’d say she has two pretty good examples there. She DOES make her own rules.