What’s In A Name?

November 17, 2009
by Katherine Ari

I was named Mary Katherine when I was born. Most of my life I have been called Kathy. I always preferred Mary to be pronounced Marie. A few years ago while doing a regression therapy, I came to recognize that not Marie but Ari was the name I was drawn too. What Ari means is another story.

Over the years I have read about the meanings of names. Certainly numerology is about your NAME more than your birthday like Astrology. I could see myself as Katherine, a renaissance person like the queen. I am a person of many talents and always independent. But the name Mary is the universal mother, the mother of God or Jesus, always the mother. I did not want to be Mary. I resisted the image of “Mother Earth” though often others tried to say that was how they saw me. “No, no, no! I don’t want to be that.” I would answer.

I didn’t marry until I was 29. For most of my twenties I didn’t have any desire to marry much less become a mother. My astrology teacher in my masters degree program taught us to do charts and in my fourth house I either would not have children or have no trouble with children. That was ironic in itself because by then I was married and pregnant with my first child. The spiritual action of marriage had also brought about the biological urge to have children – though even to this day I am not really a baby person. I went on to have three children and we have an unofficially adopted son making it four. I would have had another but Doug said no.

We had our children and made a life in an old house in Douglasville, GA. The house was surrounded by numerous kinds of oak trees, elms, sweet gums, pines, apples, cedars, a redbud and a dogwood, a mimosa, and we tried peaches. I have always loved trees. I spent my childhood having trees as my only friends along with my cat living in the country without any other children for neighbors. I felt a bond and communication with them even when I didn’t understand I was communicating with them and they with me. I do not deny that I have hugged many a tree, cried under many a tree and let them help me with my pain, danced with them, and heard them cry when they were damaged or cut down.

Years ago when the children were young, we were doing some work with a Native American teacher. He taught me that each area of the forest or even our yard has a head tree. There are grandmother and grandfather trees. He challenged me to go around in my yard and determine which was the head tree. The head tree is not necessarily the oldest or the biggest but I would discover that there are different kinds of leaders among the trees. Each tree in a yard has a function that forms a little sub-ecosystem. On my own I learned how to tell the feminine vs. the masculine trees.

I know you are asking, “What does this part of the story have to do with names?” Keep reading.
On one side of my house in the driveway is a water oak, a 110-year-old Grandfather Oak. At that time, there was a red oak, a 200 year old Great Grandmother Oak on the other side of the house, the west side. In the middle of the back yard was another Grandmother oak. The two oaks on each side of my house were guardians of the house and I felt that the red oak was the head tree. I went to the other grandmother oak in the yard and I looked at her. I said you just want to be the tree that provides shade and love. You don’t want to be the “mother” of the yard, the grand - mother. And I felt she agreed with me.

One morning in 1991, I went outside with my little Maltese dog. The sky was very unusual. There was a storm coming in from Birmingham but the sun had just come up from the east. The colors were vivid, strange. Spring flowers were coming up in an area that was garbage when we moved to the house in 1984. Everything looked so pretty. I spoke to the Great Grandmother, the mother tree of the yard where all the baby birds and squirrels lived. “Grand-mother, you are so wonderful and beautiful this morning. I love you so much. I hope you will be with us for another hundred years!”

As clear as if someone were standing right in front of me I heard a voice say, “I’m leaving soon.” A rush of fear passed over me. “Where did that voice come from?” I looked at her and I knew, KNEW it came from the tree. “Oh no, I hope not. We want you around for a long time. We love you so much and you are so important to us!”

“Soon, Granddaughter, very soon.” This internal voice coming to me was so real and sad. I felt tears well up in my eyes but then I went on about walking the dog and returning inside the house.

I went back toward the bedroom to get dressed. It was about 8:30 a.m. and Doug came running through the house. “This storm looks really bad. We should move to the hallway – quickly!” We got the kids up, grabbed the inside dog. The wind was loud and strong. Two tornados were passing over our house and we heard a large boom. The house shook and then we heard rain running into the house. The shaking was over and all we heard was loud rain. We got up to look where the rain was coming in. “Oh my God, the red oak was not there. She had gone down. But when she fell, she went north and wrapped around the back of the house. Twelve other trees went down on our property, all going towards the east, the direction of the tornado. But if she had done that, she would have fallen directly on the house, destroying the house and killing all of us.

“She told me, Doug. She said she was leaving soon,” I told Doug as I cried. Wow, she told me. I heard her. She told me! I felt like I had lost someone dear.

I felt she was the leader of my yard and she was gone. There was a young oak that I thought would be the new leader of that side of the yard some day, but when she fell, he held her until the tree people could get her safely to the ground without hitting the house. He was damaged beyond repair and a few years later fell to another storm.

I was well settled into parenthood and home schooling my children. I loved being their parent and had even gotten to the point of liking other children. I was walking around the yard and I felt that the Grandmother Oak in the middle of the yard had changed. She was clearly the new feminine head tree in the yard. Feeling sure of myself and like I “knew” the truth I said, “Well, Grandmother, I see you have assumed the role of the mother of the yard now since the Great Grandmother is gone.”

With a gentle bit firm voice she spoke to me. “It was not me that was not ready to be the mother, granddaughter. I am now what I was then.” And as if she and I were saying it in unison, the next thought to come through my mind was, “It was me that was not ready to be the mother, the earth mother. And now I am ready. I am ready to embrace being Mary, the eternal mother. I WAS Mary. I am Mary – (but I am even more Ari). But that IS another story and the name means something different.

What does your name mean? Do you embrace it and live the full potential?