So, this. It needs a name. We give names to places. We give them an identity. Even though this is all there is and she knows of no other place, or even of the possibility that there could be anything beyond the here, she still feels that it needs a name.
How can anyone be here, if we do not know where here is, and what name it has? Here could be anywhere until it has a name.
Not only that, the woman too needs a name.
She knows she is a person who is separate, different to the nameless land she walks upon. She belongs to it in the way we all belong to our home place, but she knows, feels, that she is separate from it. This land, she knows, can exist without her, and she could – no doubt – exist elsewhere too. Well, she would think that if she knew there was such a possibility of elsewhere and that the land she walks upon, touches with her fingers and bare feet, smells and sees, has an existence that predates hers and will last long after she is gone.
If I choose to keep it.
After all, it is a world I created for the woman to walk upon, a place for her to live. She was the one I wanted, but I needed somewhere to bring her into being.
So I created this world.
It is not that hard to do, to take the essence of the real and to form it, shape it, so that a world emerges from where there was nothing.
Making a world is easy. Giving it a name is hard.
Names have meaning and names have power. It is not a light thing to do, to give something a name. Create an identity for it that it will wear for as long as the words to speak it remain, even if they just blow meaninglessly on its empty and deserted air.
She too needs a name, although she doesn’t realise it yet. For now, she has existence and she has meaning, more meaning to me than she yet realises. Before I made her real, she was just an idea, a notion, a possibility, existing only in that area beyond the material. She took shape in my mind long before she ever had a body. Now she has a body and existence. So now, I need to give her a name.
She needs a name because she will be the first, the first of many. This world I have bought into being needs to be populated. It needs to have purpose and direction. It needs a reason to be named.
But names are funny things.
I have bought worlds into being before now and they all had names. So did the people who populated them. But soon, inevitably, it slips out of my control. Then the people begin to name things for themselves. Once the people start naming things for themselves, they no longer need me. Even though they all give me one name or another and call out to me to intercede on their behalf. Not only that, they say they do those evil things they do to each other in my name.
So, yes, names are difficult things.