Why Your Name Might Reveal Your Destiny
By JH Simon
Coming from a rich Arabic culture, I have developed an appreciation for the depth of meaning in the names of people hailing from the Levant. Many of them range back to biblical times. For example, the immensely popular ‘Michael’ is derived from a Hebrew name — spelled Mikha’el — which means: “Who is like God?” Here we have a profound question packed into a single word, challenging everyone who hears it to contemplate if they are living in God’s image.
Names often describe a trait. In Arabic, the female name ‘Jameelah’ literally means ‘beautiful’, and the masculine name ‘Mufeed’ means ‘useful’. This then raises a rather fun thinking exercise: Does a specific person’s name actually hold up to their character?
In my community, there is a Jameelah who is not so easy on the eyes, and we also giggle about a man named Mufeed who is quite clumsy and in need of constant assistance and care, making him the opposite of useful. So what gives? Are names then mere labels which we slap on a baby for the sake of identifying them? Or is there more to discover when diving into the richness of a person’s name?
The ‘One Who Hears’
Growing up, my head was always in the clouds. I would be imagining some random scenario, or would feel compelled to jot down a clever yet random idea which struck me from nowhere. By the age of twelve, my brain was overflowing, and I took up writing as a release valve. I dabbled in poetry, short stories and journaling until the age of sixteen, when the demands of my school work took over.
Encouraged by my father to get a ‘useful’ diploma and find a ‘noble’, high-paying job, I tossed aside the notepad and journal and dedicated myself purely to my academic pursuits. Over time, the crowded space in my head full of random ideas was cleared out, and became replaced by countless pages of mathematics and academic information. This led me to being in the top 8% of the state, and landing a double degree in university to study engineering and computer science. It felt wonderful at the time. I had landed on the supposed path to success.
Twelve years passed, and I was working a high-paying job as a full-stack developer creating complex applications and websites. I built job boards for high-traffic start-ups, an accounting system for a multi-million dollar air conditioning company, and many other pieces of software. And yet, there remained a lingering ache in my chest, a sense of unease and unfulfillment. I pursued one project after the other, convinced the next one would be the unicorn that contained the sense of meaning I was seeking.
Then one day, my mind stopped, and my heart grew silent. My fingers stopped typing, and I was done. Done with what? Well, all of it. For almost two decades I had been pursuing something which was not for me, convinced that my ‘noble’ profession was all I would ever need. And from that space, after two decades of silence, came that familiar voice, whispering to me: You are a writer. Write.
Thus began another years-long journey, where I quit my job, immersed myself fully in writing, almost went bankrupt from the lack of income, and emerged on the other side as a full-time writer. That is a story in and of itself, but in effect, the only way I could live out my purpose was to return to a time when I was authentically me — my head crowded with ideas, concepts, stories and philosophical wisdom. Daydreaming by day, furiously writing everything down by night.
This did not happen by coincidence. While the entire process was unconscious and ‘natural’, it was made possible by a move to Berlin to see the world, and the spiritual pursuit of my inner Self. Through becoming more authentic and open to the world in general, my purpose revealed itself to me, and I snatched it with both hands.
‘JH Simon’ is a pseudonym of my full name: Simon John Harrak, with my middle and last names’ initials put before my first name. One day, while researching character names for a story idea, I found myself searching up my own first name: Simon, which is a Hebrew name stemming from the bible. I had always hated my name. Yet I was astounded to discover that its meaning was ‘One who hears’ or ‘One who listens’.
The realisation of it gave me goosebumps. It did not take long for me to grasp the deeper meaning. I was not just a good listener to others. The exhausting stream of messages filling my head day after day, seemingly arising out of nowhere, were the words of God. I was hearing God, and it was my purpose to listen carefully, and then transmit His message to the world.
I went a step further, and searched up my last name, which is derived from the Arabic word for ‘fire’, meaning literally ‘One who burns’. Again, I always despised my last name as difficult to pronounce in English, and just strange sounding in general. Yet now it held a different quality in my mind. I had spent a lifetime being dragged around by my desires to see the world and chase meaningful and rich pursuits. I was passionate, too passionate for my own good. I tried to resist it with reason, academic pursuits and rigidity in my body and routine. But how can one resist a fire? When you are ‘the one who burns’, you have no choice. While the fire cannot be allowed to burn out of control, it must nonetheless be allowed to burn.
I suddenly found myself liking my first and last name.
What’s In A Name?
Does a name forge a person’s character and change their destiny, or is a person born destined to receive their name? And what do the cases of Mufeed and Jameelah teach us?
Jameelah might have been named so to help her find beauty beyond her outer form, or perhaps even for others to appreciate the beauty which lies hidden behind a person’s form.
Mufeed might have been put on this Earth in his helpless state so that others could be useful in helping him. Perhaps that is his usefulness — he brings out the best in others.
Perhaps Jameelah has been convinced by an unjust world that she is not beautiful, and so has hidden her beauty. Mufeed may be repressing his capacity to help others by unconsciously sabotaging his potential via clumsiness.
Much like I pushed away my calling to ‘hear God’ and pass on his words, and much like I loathed my passionate fire, instead choosing to embrace a life of reason and analysis, we can all look into the depth contained in our names and question whether we are honouring its meaning.
A name may be a portal to who you truly are. I believe it is no coincidence that you have been given the name you have now. So if you do not love it, perhaps a more intimate look at it might change that.
So what’s in a name? More beauty, history and meaning than you could fathom. And perhaps even the hidden pathway leading directly to your destiny.
