I think it relatively interesting that although my parents intended for my name to be Edward, the name Eddy is what stuck. It was never changed to Edward, and somehow it didn’t get shortened to Eddie. I subscribe to dictionary.com’s word of the day, and generally I don’t pay attention, despite receiving them in my mailbox. The service is usually late and they send two or three at a time, which I feel defeats the point of being able to learn a new word a day, and additionally they’re usually words with which I’m already familiar. Today’s word of the day is eddy.
To me, an eddy was always simply just a whirlpool or whirlwind. Maybe the dictionary definitions I read before were too simplified, or maybe I was too young when I first looked up my own name in the dictionary. But now that I see it again, I see something deeper:
eddy \ED-ee\, noun:
1. A current of air or water running in a direction contrary to the main current, or moving in a circular direction; a whirlpool.
2. A tendency or current (as of opinion or history) contrary to or separate from a main current.
I feel like my desire to bring about change isn’t something that should be contained to mere wishful thinking anymore. I know it seems a little juvenile or childish to suddenly be inspired by something as trivial as this, but who knows? No one knows what the future holds. In Korea and Japan this past summer of 2006, my dad and I had a lot of spiritual and religious talks, especially about Buddhism, and he told me about this eastern/buddhist ‘astrology,’ I’m not sure what to call it. It’s based on the time one is born during the lunar calendar. A monk told my dad he would first cross a small lake, then a bigger one. He ended up living in Japan, then ultimately here in the US. My dad told me I had an aptitude for being in a position of power/politics and that he was honestly disappointed when I first wanted to be a doctor. I got a little upset he didn’t tell me this before. But I guess it’s a good thing I came to my career route on my own instead of letting something ungrounded lead me. In essence, even something as abstract and insignificant like this can serve toward inspiring and giving strength.
Of course that bastard Shakespeare would beg to differ: What’s in a name? A rose by any other name would smell as sweet. But you forget, my dear William, we attach names we see fit for certain objects. Although someone like Frege might argue alongside you that these names are arbitrary designations anyway, a view like this completely neglects the historical linguistics of a language, and the tendency to ascribe more euphonous names to a beautiful object and so on!
Thanks dictionary.com. You sure made my day in more ways than you know.