about my name

I wrote some of this in one of those evenings when you know its far too late and you should be sleeping, but you know also that if you would go outside, you would smell the spring and its impossible to sleep. cause wintersleep is beginning to show signs of waking.

I guess this is kind of made up a bit and true a bit. its this way of sharing my name with you and at the same time kind of dealing my life.

my mother is a strong woman. and I always liked to think that she, or the fact how she is never actually affected me.

my father again, he is no more. though he quite rarely ever was. even while still being.
also for a long time I thought that how he was or wasnt didnt influence the matter how I ended up being or not being.

and then being the youngest in our family I dont feel I ever got to know my siblings that well. or they me. they all flew away from the nest before I learned to use my wings.

in school it was really hard. this being me thing. especially cause being me was something that was not being liked
and they said
be cool, be bold, be a girl, be a woman, be more, be less

the athmosphere at home spoke quite a lot. though without any words. it took me a while to learn its language but eventually the grammar sunk in and I got hold of the rules. when to ask questions, when to be silent.

and silence, he was good preacher. those lasting impacts with his sermons. and I kind of even grew up to like them. or at least to think that is the way things are done. and when you dont get answers, eventually you stop asking. and start playing by their rules. and again, being me is messed up.

so in this situation of being quite uncertain I even was, I heard something that put me into being.

first only this thin whisper "yada"
and then through time it grew into a huge echo that surged life in to me, YADA

and you know, it was my daddy. telling me who I am.


yada is hebrew, and it means known.