Day and Night

My wife and I are so very different from one another. They say that people grow more alike through the years together, but frankly I cannot imagine there being enough years remaining to me to satisfy the demands of the yawning chasm between us. Rather, the gulf is not yet done with growing.

We are opposites, as perfectly so as day and night. I am cerebral, she is intuitive. I am poetic, she is practical. I am forgiving, she is vengeful. I am slow, she is fast. I deliberate, she decides. I am calm, she is a fury. I wear my heart on my sleeve, hers is guarded by seven fiery angels.

Her dream car is a Mercedes. I will take anything that runs. She wishes to expand. I would rather shrink. She feels identified in the world by the things she possesses. I feel incurably alienated.

My wife knows what she wants, and therefore what is lacking. I have pretty much what I want at all times. She is an extrovert, I am an introvert. She has scads of friends, I have two friends--my first ex-wife and my wife's ex-husband.

She dreams. I ruminate.

She is young. I am old.

She does not love those who do not love her. I love even my enemies.

She makes a profit. I break even, if I'm lucky.

She is beautiful, and I am homely.

She is healthy, I am sick.

And more amazing than what I have already written above is the fact that I really have not even started yet.

(P.S. -- We dress alike)

What's In A Name?

One's name is only a generally understood term, a practical designation. There is no question of a permanent individual implied in the use of the word.
--Milindapanha (Questions of King Menander)

What's in a name? That which we call a rose By any other name would smell as sweet. --William Shakespeare, Romeo and Juliet

Though I call myself Richard, as do others who mean in a general way to attract my attention, I feel no particular ownership of the name, any more than if it were a number. I would ascribe, in fact, more sense of belonging to others who possess the same name, in that a superficial marker of identity would gain at least some meaningful power in the absence of applicable information. With the accumulation of particularizing data, however, knowledge deflates any meaning formerly possessed by name itself.

About whom, then, do we have more knowledge than ourselves?

Perhaps this is the reason that couples often give one another new names. Perhaps this is why the American Indians sought new, more personal identities in vision and experience. We are not who we were first labeled to be, but we are most essentially who we have become.

If we say, for instance, You have soiled my good name, if we speak of forgery or defamation of character, we are addressing a matter of value perceived on the basis of knowledge and familiarity--something particular, something defining. We do not speak of a name in and of itself. The name Richard, therefore, cannot in mere utterance be misused, for it has, in itself, no value of meaning whatsoever.

There are thousands of Richards, thousands of Roberts, thousands of Sallys and Vals; and yet at the same time only one of each.

We must weigh the intent of expression against the content of that which is being expressed.