Names of Gods

“Yours is the name of a god, did you know?”

I have never been a philosophical person. I live life as it comes to me and never care much for the reasons behind it: I’m alive, and I am happy with that knowledge. What is the use of philosophy but to justify an unhappy existence?

She, on the other hand– She loves philosophy, loves to play with the theories of the universe, of nature, of life, of gods; especially gods. She has a certain obsession with the connection of theology and philosophy, spouting constant nonsense about gods walking among us, disguising themselves as humans and surveying the world they’ve made. Sometimes she speaks of the God of the Catholics, othertimes the Greek deities, even Norse; sometimes she simply refers to Nature and all its processes as various gods, all doing their own work to create order and disorder inside the universe. No matter what God or gods it is, she is obsessed with the subject. I think it’s ridiculous– intriguing, but ridiculous, and our current conversation proves it.

“‘Soulis’. An ominous name, if there were any. A very strange god, your namesake.” I look over at her with the flattest expression I can manage, but she isn’t looking at me; she’s never looking at me, not really. Whatever ice I can manage in my personality, she amplifies it tenfold in her own, all business and stone.

“Well, that explains a lot, now doesn’t it?” I make my voice as flat and exasperated as my expression, but she ignores my voice, still staring at everything but me.

“It is a very special thing, to have the name of a god. It means you have a special path in life, that you’re worth more than just a family and a mundane existence as a human. With a name like yours, you’re meant for something so much greater.” Finally she turns to me, gazing at me with those knowing eyes. Instantly, I feel small beside her, like a child trying to measure up to its mother as she teaches an important lesson. It’s my turn to look away. I know it is ridiculous, but still I look away.

I can feel her smile when I do. Anger boils up, but I push it firmly down.

“You think what you want to. While you’re waiting for miracles, I’ll live me life.” I stand up, turning my back on her like the petulant child she wants me to be. I know her eyes follow me as a walk away and I force myself to ignore it.

“Soulis.” She calls my name and I stop. I always stop, even as I question why. “Sometimes, it is more than simply a name.”

I walk on. She can keep her her suspicions, her philosophy and her gods. To me, it will always be just a name.

~ by eeratka on February 22, 2007.