"I have called thee by thy name...."

"I have called thee
by thy name,
thou art Mine..."

Recently my friend, Laurie Benson, asked her community of readers this series of questions:

Isn't it curious that we move through the world
with a name given to us by someone else?

How many of you don't like your name?

Or feel like it doesn't suit you?

I thought these were fascinating questions. Obviously, so did others -- since she had over 60 responses. If you know me, you know that I navigated this name wilderness for over 40 years before finding peaceful place to rest.

The story that leads to my own discomfort with my "given" name is not important. Suffice it to say, it was full of drama. But here is what I learned. And what I have practiced with our children.

My parent(s) did the best they could in giving me a name that would serve my childhood. But my evolving sense of "self," was between me and God. Eventually, when God called me by "my name," I knew it to be true and I answered to it. The social and legal steps I needed to take to legitimize that shift were challenging, but every bit worth it.

So why write this post. I think it is to help other realize that:

1] if you don't feel that your name is truly yours, you are not alone. That being said, it is important to be respectful of the love that your parents put into giving that gift (of a name that they loved) to you.  But don't feel that you have to move through the world with a name that doesn't feel like your own. For me, there was no greater moment than being publicly called by the name that I knew was mine.

2] if you have a friend that is considering a change in their name, try to be respectful of their need to make that change. It is not something they are doing just to be mean to their parents or to confuse their friends and acquaintances. It is important to them. Just because you feel perfectly comfortable being called the name you were given at birth, doesn't mean that they do -- or even should.

I grew up being called a name that I never felt comfortable with. I tried ever iteration of that name possible. In my heart I always knew that I was Kate. When I had conversations with myself, I was always Kate. I loved being Kate. Actually, I loved being Cate. The first time someone called out to me as Cate -- after legally changing my name, I felt like I had come home to myself within the context of my larger community.

So why did it take so long for me to do it? Well, I was afraid. Afraid of hurting my parent's feelings. I was afraid of my professional community making fun of me -- which, by the way, they did. I was afraid that my friends would think I was a flake -- which, by the way, they made perfectly clear they did. But, after the first few snarky, sarcastic comments, I realized that each "air quote" comment about my name, was really an opportunity to stand tall as Kate.  It was a gift to be able to defend her.  I loved my name and I knew who I was.

When our daughters were younger, they each felt the need to try on a new, or different version, of their names. We not only allowed them to, we encouraged them to know themselves and feel comfortable with their name. In each case they returned to their given name after a school year. It's interesting to me that, as a society, we are perfectly at ease with using a chosen (or assigned) nicknames -- for someone we know and love, but a full-on name change seems "weird" to us.

For me, it was as necessary as growing out of a children's sized clothing into grown up sizes. I never looked back. Even when a friend from the "old days" wants to remind me that I was once someone who went by a different name, I refuse to be goaded into defending my right to be who I am. I am Kate -- and in my heart, Cate. That is the spelling that I use when signing love letters. And by the way, putting that out there in this post, feels just as naked as changing my name to begin with. Same concerns: flaky, still not settled in her identity, rebellious. Think what you may, this is the most clear and settled I have ever been.

And although I love my husband, and our marriage, and his name. I do not use it when I think of myself. When I think of myself, or sign my name, I am Cate Mullane. Why have I waited to say this?  Because again, I am afraid of the social repercussions.  Another "change" feels like walking thorough the market square naked. I haven't wanted to have someone call me flaky or silly. I am neither. I am listening for what God, the great I AM, is calling me. I am His daughter, and He has said to me:

"I have called thee
by thy name,
thou art Mine..."

There is a name that is eternal in you -- because you are eternally you. You did not start with a mortal birth. You have existed eternally. You are immortal. If your given name reflects that sense of spiritual identity, "wonderful," I can't think of anything more amazing than to feel at peace in the garment of your name. But if you haven't felt that kind of peace, and you want to try on something that might be a better spiritual fit -- I hope you will call me and tell me who you are. I will never make you feel silly. I will respect you. I promise.

with my love,

Cate Mullane

"A path to spiritual sustainability..."

"This is the sound of all of us.
Singing with love and the will to trust.
Leave the rest behind it will turn to dust.
This is the sound of all of us."*

The relationship between the inner landscape, and Alan Savory's principles of Holistic Resource Management, have fascinated...and inspired...me for over two decades. 

My first introduction was through, then, Adventure Unlimited Ranches Director, Byron Shelton, whose enthusiasm for, and devotion, to HRM were contagious.

I remember one sunny June afternoon asking Byron to walk me through the fundamentals of HRM.  He explained (or at least this is what I took from it) that the native grasslands did not need protection from the large herding animal, but thrived in symbiosis with it.

That the practice of fencing off our agri-delineated land,  so that it would not be trampled on by cattle, leaving it undisturbed and fallow, was actually depriving the land of its most vital relationship. A relationship that could transform our global landscape, and reverse the desertification of grasslands, pastures and prairies worldwide.

He went on to point out a beautiful, fenced off,  high country pasture.  Upon first examination it was lovely.  Filled with small clusters of flowering plants.  He explained that those arrestingly lovely flowering clusters were called forbes.  And that each forbe...although beautiful...represented a self-seeding cluster that was surrounded by arid, dry, cracked, earth devoid of organic plantlife.  And that, in fact, each cluster...however beautiful...would continue to grow smaller and smaller as it self-seeded.  Until all that was left was a pasture of dry, arid, useless soil.

He showed me how removing the fences, and allowing the large herding animals...cattle, elk, bison, etc...to trample on, and break up the hard, dry soil, would allow rain water, and snowmelt that washed through the pasture, to collect, penetrate, and rebuild the natural water table below the topsoil.

He also explained that when the large herding animals ate the nourishing grasses, their digestive system (including natural, efficient waste management) would spread the seed throughout the pasture in their dung,  thus providing a warm germinating medium, and preventing the seed from blowing away in the wind. 

I was fascinated.

This all made so much sense to me then...and it still does today. 

And its implications for other landscapes...community, church, family, and inner pastures...is truly transformative.

How often do we think that the best way to protect our principles, values, traditions, or dogmas, is to fence ourselves off from anything that would trample on our precious, beautiful, well-patted-down ideals?  We self-seed, and are thrilled with the beautiful flowering plants that begin to spring up.  But on closer examination, those flowering clusters are growing smaller and smaller, as their population within the pasture becomes less and less frequent.

How do we "save" those ideals we love so dearly, and care for with such fervor? I believe it is through rigorous spiritual biodiversity.

Mary Baker Eddy, advises, in Science and Health with Key to the Scriptures, that:

"All nature teaches God's love to man."

If we look at nature, and what the Savory Institute has tested...and proven...in sub-Saharan Africa, as well as in agri-communities throughout the world, we begin to learn that we must begin to take down our self-preservationist fencing...our boundaries between us and them. The pastures lives in symbiosis with the cattle, each providing an important counterpoint to the other's survival.

We must allow our much-loved, well-protected, and self-certain belief-based landscapes, to be trampled on...questioned, reasoned through, tested...so that the soil will be aerated, and ready to receive the healing, nourishing, refreshing waters of inspiration, and application. 

And, we must share the seed with those same large herding "animals," without restraint.  We must allow those precious flowers to be eaten --  taken in, masticated, digested...and yes, spread both on the wind, and through the process of elimination.

Our beliefs may get stirred up, but so will the self-certainty and cultural mis-interpretations that come with decades of self-preservation.

Over the last two decades...or more...I have used the principles of Alan Savory's Holistic Resource Management to govern the care of my inner landscape, and my sense of community.  I have learned to welcome "others" who challenge my self-certainty, I am not afraid to have my beliefs trampled upon, stirred up, and turned over so that I can receive fresh new inspiration and rebuild my inner water table.    I love it when the flowers of my pretty forbe-like communities of fellowship are devoured by those who are interested, not just in hearing about the beliefs that I cherish, but are willing to share their own in spiritual symbiosis. 

And sometimes, that leads to my beliefs being rejected...eliminated from their system of thinking...but through that process, the essence of those same ideas, if vital, will be shared more broadly, and foster new growth. 

These are just some thoughts that have been absolutely critical to the vitality and sustainability of my own inner ecosystem.   And I may have taken what Byron shared that day, and trampled all over it...but it has made such a difference in the way I see the world, and my place in it.

Today, The Savory Institute was honored at the esteemed TED conference as one of the "TED Ads Worth Spreading". 

I am not surprised.  Their "ad" produced by Foresight Media, under the direction of Laurie Benson, promises to introduce a larger audience to principles that not only have the potential of reversing devastating environmental problems, but giving thought leaders and spiritual pioneers around the globe a model for sustainable inner health and viability. 

Thank you Alan Savory,  The Savory Institute,  Joel and Laurie Benson, John and Alison Abdelnaur at Foresight Mediaand to Byron Shelton...

with Love, 

Kate
Kate Robertson, CS

*Please enjoy the Wailin' Jennys "One Voice"...it speaks to me tonight..