What’s in a name?
One in 400 quadrillion. That’s fifteen zeros after the number.
Those are the odds of you coming into existence before taking into account all of the generations before your parents who had to similarly “beat the odds” to create your possibility.
Currently 8 billion and change of us have beaten those odds and remain alive. Estimates are that 117 billion humanoids have lived on planet earth to date. (For now, I will leave the Neanderthal and Denisovans heritage out of the mix, though my deep DNA testing – as I’m sure yours would as well – shows interspecies hanky panky in my past.)
One research study would suggest each individual knows about 600 of those alive by name, although it fails to define its use of the word “know” but hints that you would list them by prompted recall and include those with whom one interacts, not just has awareness of.
To identify me, I have been given the name Stephen Tucker. There are 2,100 variations of us on LinkedIn alone. If you Google the phrase “How many people on Facebook named Stephen Tucker,” prepare to scroll in your web browser for a bit. Clearly, while Stephen Tucker is my name, it is not my name alone. Yet when someone who knows me writes out their list of people they know named Stephen (or Steve to family and childhood friends), the Stephen Tucker they list is me.
A name has meaning apart from the 8 billion others not because of the letters it contains, but rather the relationship it represents. And that invites us to pause, to find a list of given names, list out people we know with that name, and reflect on the meaning and importance of that name and relationship to us. For example:
Brent - Brent Stanyer = Best bud in college. Best man in my wedding. Best estate lawyer (no bias here) in the State of Washington. I value Brent deeply, though I rarely talk to him.
Garth - Garth Brooks = Pretty much a stretch here but I did chat with him one-on-one for about 10 minutes one Spring day. It was all going well until someone else saw who I was visiting and came running over, causing him to turn and walk away, displaying the name Brooks on the back of his jersey and enlightening me on who I was delightfully discussing baseball with. I will always list Garth as “close,” though he never knew my name.
Jesus - Jesus Castellanos (you were expecting something different, weren’t you?) Jesus is someone I know casually … through church and family friendship. One of the most trustworthy people I know who many would distrust because they’ve been told to distrust Huawei, the company for whom he leads Central American operations. I call him friend. I’d be on his list.
Mariah - Mariah C. A most painful name for me that I will never forget. Mariah’s life ended tragically in a car crash. I was one of many who made decisions that day that culminated in the improbable accident that took her life. I spent less than five minutes with her inside that smashed car, but I couldn’t leave the encounter without knowing her name. I would do just about anything to get a “do over” for that day.
Sage - Sage Tollentino. My cousin’s grandson and 7’2” basketball player for the University of Cincinnati Bearcats. I’ve never met Sage but have watched his games and named our dog, in part, after him. But he’d be on my list. It's a DNA thing.
So what is in a name?
A one-in-an-8-billion someone I value who just happens to have that label.
Friendships. Family. Moments. Memories. Guideposts.
Chapters past, present, and to come.
Bonds that make randomness and lots of zeros behind numbers seem quite irrelevant.
And, 600+ relationships that bring meaningfulness to my highly improbable life.