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In a previous post, I discussed my process when it came to coming up with the layout and style of this new blog, but especially the importance of its name. In thinking about the importance of its name, and how its name would be a reflection of its tone, I really began to consider my own name; not my legal name, but rather my Craft name.

Built over roughly 10 years, each addition marking an important turning point in my religious life, Gavin Purplethroat holds a certain nostalgia and a considerable weight with me. Gavin, chosen because it means ‘white hawk’ (a pure, majestic, and powerful image, I must say), and Purplethroat, the colour of spiritual strength with my strongest chakra, have marked me momentously.

However, now I feel like they no longer fit. This realization is not one that I came to lightly; Gavin has been my craft name, my pen name, and the name of a very important character for me since I was in the 9th grade. To leave it behind is leaving behind a huge part of my past. Realizing that I have outgrown Gavin means that I really am starting fresh in this new direction; I am no longer the giggling, delicate teenager, Gavin. I am something else…I am someone else.

But who is this new person? Do I choose a name for who I am, or do I choose one for who I wish to become? Or, will I choose at all? Will I be gifted a name? What do Dionysus and Hekate, who have been rather vocal in the past few months, have to say about this? I’d like to find a name that incorporates one or both of them, but that doesn’t make me sound like I’m choking when I try to pronounce it (Sorry guys, I don’t speak Greek!).

Even more than the name of this blog, my craft name weighs on my mind.

I have read so many different ways to find a craft name; a Craft name must be given to you! A Craft name must be numerogically linked to your birth name/date! I have heard of using bibliomancy to find your name, or of taking a list of words and slowly erasing letters until a bizarre patchwork name reveals its self to you.

I have such a hard time seeing myself objectively that naming myself becomes a frighteningly ego bruising, or contrastingly ego inflating experience that leads, ultimately, to an uncomfortable witch-boy who doesn’t want to tell you his name. I know the kinds of names I would give my closest friends, or my family members…but how do you justify the kind of name you give yourself?

I guess what I am getting at, readers, is that I want to know; how did you get your name? And, hell, where should a novice worshipper of Dionysus and Hekate find his name?

And in my temple, I lean into the well…

‘Where did this come from?…

What is that noise?

What is it calling me?’

I lean closer into the dark pit

and listen to its depths.