....a name

Yogis,
I had an epiphany today.

Every since I started removing English Ivy in earnest on my side slope, native groundcovers have been arriving. Any time I see someone new in the yard I use my plant identifier app to ID it. It gives me common name, botanical name and whether the plant is native to my region..

As long as it falls in the native column, I do a bit more research and most often welcome it with open arms. Black snakeroot is one such plant.

Yet every time I go out and see her and try to remember the name, I can’t. I know the plant by sight. I know its growing pattern, how it spreads, what it likes. I know the plant but can’t remember the name.

The same thing happens every spring as I run the river paths. This morning alone I had to identify the names of 4 different plants that I have become friends with over the years. Each time I am like, ‘of course!’ but don’t ask me again next week.

I know the plants’ essence. I know the personality.  I just can’t remember the name.

It wasn’t until this morning as I did this process yet again that I had a flash of knowing. I am exactly the same way with people!

When I meet you, I am so focused on your eyes, your energy and the way you move. The name is arbitrary to my brain. A minor detail. I hear it, repeat it……and off it flies. The next time I see you, I do know you. I remember you. I don’t forget ‘you’, but have to pray I don’t need to use your name.

I heard in a podcast lately about how language can be a barrier in many ways to our empathy and connection to the natural world. Even at times to each other (think about if someone has a name you dislike from a past experience).

Every label we attach to something drags along stories, judgments and associations, instantly limiting its innate unlimited potential. Children don’t know the labels yet, giving them the freedom to embrace everything and everyone.

Eventually I do remember their name and yours,
SARAH