#power names

[fantasynamesbymeforyou]

Sisu - m (Finnish) willpower, determination, strength

[fantasynamesbymeforyou]

Reutoz - m/f (Hebrew) strength of friendship

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

From Hebrew reut "friendship" and oz "strength"

[kiraqueendom]

Idk what it could be used for, but "The Pinnacle of Annihilation" is a badass name for a story or superpower or some shit.

[grimalkinsgrimoire]

Naming Names

I can't put my finger on why exactly I've always thought it's so important to have a "craft name" or "power name." It's just something I've always felt strongly about.

I did some accidental dream work on the issue once, years ago. I couldn't have been more than about seventeen at the time, or maybe even younger than that. I dreamed that I was in an expansive green field with an open blue sky through which clouds passed like gentle combing fingers.

I walked up an incline and into the sun. Somehow I knew I was supposed to go up. Soon, something came into view - an altar. It was made of dark and rugged stone. As I walked towards it, I knew that it was here that I would receive my name. But the dream never finished. I was never able to kneel at the altar and receive it.

Lately, I've had a dream that I feel is somehow connected. In this dream, I am emerging out of what looks like an earthen bunker. The earth is moist and dark, and I can smell it as I emerge into a pathway that slopes upward. As I start up the incline, I look up, and I can see that I am in the woods, and that the branches pleached above me are thick and green. A light breeze sways them.

I knew in this dream that the altar was there. But I never saw it. I never made my way up the hill.

A nagging pull has come into my chest. Who am I, in relation to my beliefs? I am not simply Grimalkin, plainly. There is something mystical and tribal inside my spirit that goes into hiding, but will only be denied for so long. When anxiety and depression flare, the mystical, the generative, hides away. But as Samhain approaches, that wild phoenix creature is stoking fires inside me, asking me questions that I do not know the answer to.

All I can do, I suppose, is make a serious study of it. There's little sense in pretending this part of me doesn't exist for the sake of rationality, or for whatever other reason it's chic in this American society to pretend like you have no beliefs. Maybe it works for some, but I only know that part of me which refuses to be still and quiet for the sake of convenience.

Up on the top of that long hill, that dream slope, there is something waiting for me at the stone altar. Beckoning.