Who Do You Think You Are?: An Interactive Journey Through Your Past Lives and into Your Best Future

You Are Not Your Name

Imagine you are attending an enormous conference, held in a gigantic room like a hotel ballroom, and hundreds of people are lined up to enter. As you get to the door, you see a table with a bunch of markers and name tags that read, "Hello: My Name Is ___________."

Before you enter the room full of strangers, you write your name on a tag, allowing you to identify yourself to potential friends or colleagues without having to say a word. How relieved are you that you can wear that name tag? How glad are you that you can easily read the names of the others at this conference before you begin a conversation?

By writing down your name, you have claimed your identity and displayed it, giving yourself a human presence among the crowd.

Our name is the first way we create an identity. It begins at birth, or even before, while our parents are imagining us and who we might become. In many ways, the process of thinking of a name for an unborn baby makes it real-the fact that you are about to create and raise a human being.

This is true whether a baby is planned or unplanned. A child is born into this life and given a name. Even though we have lived many times before, our name is often what first gives us our humanity. Because you have lived before, in past lives, you have had different names in other times, in other places, and in other bodies. And when you died, you left behind that name, along with that body, to continue on with your journey into your next life.

But when you were alive in that past life, your name was the way you connected to your own sense of self, or your identity, just as it is now. Names reflect background and culture and the way parents and family want their children to be seen. They are often a direct line to your ancestors, perhaps once belonging to a beloved grandparent, aunt, or other family member, chosen to be revered in this new child. Some people even have the same name as their father or grandfather and are referred to as "junior" or "the third."

Different cultures around the world have unique traditions around names. In China, it is the custom to have the surname (or family name) come first, before the given name of the individual. In Spain and Latin America, babies are often given two surnames, one from the father and one from the mother. This practice ensures that the mother's family's name will continue to live on in the child (and makes for some very long names!).

Many names contain a reference to a specific culture, helping maintain an identity within a tribe, group, or ethnicity. In South Africa, the Zulu often give a child a name that represents the circumstances around when or where they were born, such as the place of birth, what was happening in the tribe or family at that time, or the day of the week. These Zulu names can include the intentions or wishes the parents have for the child, their life, and their expected place in the community.

Names often hold definitions or meanings, and many expectant parents spend time poring over baby name books, looking for just the right one to set the tone for the life of their child.

Think for a moment about how you got your name, if you know the story. If you don't know it and have a parent or family member whom you can ask, I encourage you to have that conversation.

What was the inspiration for your name? What is the meaning of your name?

Take a minute to think about your own feelings in connection to your name. Do you like your name? Can you easily identify with it? It is not uncommon for people to either change their name to something they feel is more in alignment with who they are, or use a middle name or a nickname instead. Ask yourself if your name represents who you are, right now, in your current lifetime.

Naming a child after a positive association-an idea that can translate into feelings of positivity about themselves or their path in life-is something nearly every culture on Earth does. I named both of my children based on my own positive associations with their monikers and chose names with meanings that I felt would set them both on a path toward happiness and success.

Many names come from nature, inspired by flowers, trees, and herbs. Others are chosen because they describe desirable qualities, such as strength, integrity, or faith, with the wish that the child will take on those characteristics.

Many religious traditions choose a name that represents a saint or religious figure in the hopes that the child will emulate them and even receive their guidance and protection. This is why names like Mary, Joseph, Joshua, Moses, Jesus, and Mohammed are so common.

Names are often considered sacred, and the act of giving a child a name is sometimes marked by a ceremony or ritual. In Jewish tradition, a baby is given a Hebrew name in a formal ceremony attended by family and friends. The belief around this ceremony is that the baby's soul is not fully attached to the body until the name is given. Only then does that child's soul commit to that body to live its life. The name represents the life the child's parents intend for them. For boys, this naming ceremony is performed eight days after birth; for girls, there is no specified time, but it is usually done in the first weeks of life.

Islamic tradition has a sacred naming tradition, too, usually performed on the seventh day of life. In Japan, baby naming also happens on the seventh day, when the father writes the name and date of birth on a piece of paper and posts it for everyone to see. In the Gambia and Senegal, naming is celebrated with a big feast, during which the spiritual leader or tribal elder repeatedly whispers the name into the baby's ear. This takes place the eighth day after birth.

Several Native American traditions view names as fluid, able to be changed at any time. This is an acknowledgment of the idea that a person's name is an embodiment of their potential, or the trajectory of their journey, which can change as a person grows and evolves. For example, if a tribal member overcomes something difficult or achieves something great, they may earn a new name that describes this new version of themselves. This tradition inspires each individual to look toward who they are becoming in the future, rather than bearing the name of an ancestor and carrying the weight of the past. I love this idea because we are all continually evolving and growing.

I have heard many people share special stories about how they chose a name for their child. These accounts include seeing or encountering something unique and unexpected, such as an animal or a stone. One mother, while on a walk in the woods, found what she thought was glass but later proved to be a piece of amber. She considered that a special moment because it seemed like something she was meant to find. When her daughter was born, she named her Amber.

I've also heard stories from expectant parents who claim that they received their child's name in a dream. Many cultures believe that when a woman is pregnant, particularly when the time of birth is near, the veil between the physical world and the world of spirit is thin. A mother-to-be may be able to touch other dimensions of reality and, therefore, is more open to receiving messages from divine sources, including being "gifted" a name.

We assign names to our loved ones as terms of endearment, or ways we show affection to those with whom we are close. Nicknames that come about after an event, a shared memory, or even an inside joke solidify and maintain strong bonds between people. I have several nicknames for both of my children, ones that usually make them laugh or feel loved when I use them. Terms like honey, baby, darling, dear, or love are usually reserved for the closest people to you. (I don't recommend addressing a stranger as "Hey, baby.")

My point is that names, and how we use them, matter. Our names are how we connect to ourselves and interact with each other. A name is much more than what you are called.

Your name is a source of personal empowerment. It is how you identify yourself. It is the "I am" answer to the question "Who are you?" Even though our existence does not begin or end in this life, and we have many lifetimes in many different forms, your name in this life is how you relate to your sense of self right now.

Most people enjoy hearing their name because it makes them feel seen, recognized, and validated. This is why successful salespeople and customer service professionals understand the power of using someone's name. It allows that person to feel as if they are being approached as a human being and not a number, case file, or demographic.

It works the other way, too. If you mispronounce or forget someone's name, that is the fastest way to make them feel as if you don't care about them. In fact, a tactic used throughout history to strip away a person's strength and connection to their humanity has been to take away their name. During chattel slavery in the United States, one of the largest crimes against humanity in all of history, many enslaved Africans and African Americans were recorded only by their gender and age in order to dehumanize them. Slave ledgers, which were the official records of the people an owner enslaved, generally did not include the person's given name, just age and gender or perhaps the last name of their enslaver. As a result, it is nearly impossible for African Americans to trace their ancestry to any time before the Civil War. By omitting their names, slave traders and owners found it easier not to see the enslaved as human beings with feelings, hopes, wishes, and dreams.

This dehumanization also happens when you force some-one to change their name, such as when Christian names were forced upon Native American children who had been taken from their families, well into the twentieth century. During the Holocaust, inmates at certain death camps were assigned numbers and not called by their names. When a person is made nameless, it is easier to pretend they aren't worthy of the same humanity as one whose name we know and speak. In fact, many memorials are simple but powerful lists of names, such as the Vietnam Veterans Memorial in Washington, DC, and the New England Holocaust Memorial in Boston.

One of the most incredible places I have ever been is the Temple of Apollo on Mount Parnassus in Greece. This structure was considered a sacred site for hundreds of years. It was the home of the Pythia, one of the most famous Oracles, or psychics, of the ancient world, and it has been featured in works by Plutarch, Ovid, Sophocles, Plato, and Aristotle. It was also the place you would visit when you wanted to free a slave. A slave became free after their master inscribed their name on the stone at the base of the temple. That action not only was symbolically weighted but also forged a permanent record that proved the named person was indeed free.

The characters and letters that make up the thousands of names etched in the stone there are still visible. Each name represents a person whose life was completely altered at the moment their name was written. So much humanity is inscribed on these stones. Stone represents permanence. We carve the names of loved ones on tombstones after they die so they won't be forgotten. We use names on other memorials, too, such as streets, buildings, bridges, and schools. If the name lives on, so will the memory or legacy of the person who carried that name.

When we want to remember someone who has passed, was lost, or has a legacy that should not be forgotten, we ensure that their spirit and what they represent to us lives on by saying their name. Speaking their name, we feel their presence even after they are gone.

We've established that a name is the key to your identity, your power, and your individuality. Now forget all that. You are not your name.

Regardless of what you are called now, you have lived before, in different bodies with different names. You have been many people, all with unique identities. That doesn't mean the im-portance of your name is diminished in any way. All of those other names also represented an individual, a journey, and a life. These past-life personas experienced love, joy, pain, disappointment, and everything else that comes with being human.

I'm sure you have some questions.

You are probably wondering why I made such a case for how critical your name is, only to tell you that you aren't your name. It's true that a name contains identity, humanity, a life, and because you have all of the above, I want you to know that you also had that same depth of existence in all your past lives. I want you to begin to think of your past lives as less theoretical or ethereal, and more in terms of discovering a person who you were-and still are.

I want your past lives to become real people to you. Those people had names, certainly. But who were they? What did they desire? What did they accomplish? What made them proud? What were their failures or limitations? Whom did they love? What did they value?

It is true that your past-life personas lived, well, in the past, in other countries, as different genders, within other cultures. We will get into the specifics of all that in much greater detail later, but for now, just consider the individuals you have been before.

Give your past-life selves the power, the individuality, and the humanity of having been born to a family who gave them a name. That doesn't mean you should demand that your family and friends begin to call you by one of your former names. That life has come and gone; it is in the past. You are living again, in a new body, with a new lifetime here on Earth, and with a new name.

Because you have had other names, that is why you are not your name. You have had many, many names. By thinking about your past lives as individuals who also had names, you give those people their dignity, individuality, power, and humanity. Perhaps by embracing your past selves in this way, you can better appreciate who you are right here and now.