That Which We Call a Rose...

I've been thinking about my name.
It happened in Women's Chorus a couple days ago. I was called to stand up and introduce myself as the Devotional Co-Chair for Fall Semester.
"What is your name?"
"I'm Hannah."

Hannah. The name with which I identify with. The title people use when referring to that one girl with the brown hair, wacky clothes and personality to match. The word my parents thought of when they held me in their arms for the first (or second? or third?) time. A word that is solely mine, yet isn't solely mine. There are other Hannahs in the world. Furthermore, there are other Hannah Johnsons in the world. And I'm sure there have been plenty of Hannah Christina Johnsons over the years as well. So I am unique, yet not unique.
Why do I identify so much with Hannah? Why do I not see myself as a Brittany or a Deborah or a Fred? Really, what is in a name? Do I really see myself as "Hannah?" I really don't think so. I see myself more as simply "Me." "I." "Myself." However, when thinking of others, I always go strait to their superficial titles that society has given them. "Anna." "George." "Gaga." Even "Mother" or "Grandma"..

My conclusion? There is nothing in a name. Society puts them there to make communication easier, but I don't think we genuinely believe that our names are a part of who we are. At least not right away. Things may be different if I get visited by God, and he calls me by my name. Perhaps then I'll see it as a divine title and I suddenly will stop thinking "me" and start thinking "Hannah, a daughter of God."
This "me" mindset may then be replaced by a "you" mindset. Perhaps if we stopped thinking of ourselves as individuals and identify ourselves instead as one of many other named individuals in this world, we may grow closer to each other and lose some of that pride and selfishness that we so easily fall into.

This whole conversation with myself is getting rather deep. I should stop before my brain starts to hurt.