오늘도 뭔가 미안한 일이 있어서 “여보, 미안해요.”라고 했더니“아니 또 미안분과 위원장 직무수행이오? 이제는 그만둘 때도 되지 않았나? 요즈음 위원회들이 통폐합 하두만”이라고 합니다. 그러게 말입니다. 저는 왜 미안한 일들이 그리도 많은지 모르겠습니다. 그런데 제 별명이 이것만은 아닙니다. ‘염려분과 위원장’에 ‘삐치기 선수’도 있습니다.
별명 이야기를 하니 나의 어릴 적 별명들도 생각이 나네요. ‘꼬마’, ‘곰배’, ‘눈 굵따〜이’ 등이지요. 그러고 보니 주로 신체적 특성으로 얻은 별명들입니다. 키도 작고 뒤통수가 유난히 튀어나온 데다 얼굴에 눈밖에 안 보인다고 놀릴 만큼 눈이 큰 아이였지요. 하지만 함께 사는 가족은 신체적 특성으로 별명을 짓는 것 같지는 않습니다. 주로 친구들이나 친척들에게서 얻은 것들입니다. 좀 커서는 엄마가 지어준 별명들이 꽤 많습니다. 주로 행동에 관한 것들입니다. 솜씨, 마음씨뿐만 아니라 맵씨도 좋으셨던 우리 엄마가 볼 때 내가 일하는 모습이 답답하고 급한 것도 없다고 ‘답답이’, ‘태평이’라고 부르기도 했고 그렇다고 찬찬하지도 않고 덜렁댄다고 ‘털패이’라고 부르기도 했습니다.
남편이 목회를 시작한지 얼마 되지 않아서 어떤 집사님이 내게 지어준 별명이 또 하나 있습니다. ‘사분의 삼박자’입니다. 집사님들이 하는 농담을 내가 빨리 알아듣지를 못해서, 말하자면 말귀를 잘 알아듣지 못하고 꼭 사분의 삼박자 늦는다는 것이지요. 하긴 내가 워낙에 농담을 잘 알아듣질 못합니다. 그래서 얻은 또 하나의 별명이 ‘교과서’입니다. 너무 규범적이라는 것이지요. 참 별명이 많기도 합니다. 모두 다 다른 사람이 내게 지어준 별명입니다. 나와 그럴듯하게 어울리는 것들입니다.
그런데 내가 지은 별명도 있습니다. 꽤 오래전에 집단 상담을 하면서 내가 지은 나의 별명은 ‘들꽃’입니다. 별로 눈에 띄지 않는 작은 꽃입니다. 아예 이름조차 없는 꽃일 수도 있습니다. 하지만 가까이 다가가서 보면 예쁘기도 하고 메마른 길가에서 미소를 만들어내는 꽃입니다. 나도 그런 사람이 되고 싶어서 만든 이름입니다.
또 언제부터인가 내가 즐겨 사용하는 별명이 하나 있습니다. 인터넷 사이트에 접속하려면 아이디가 필요한데 나는 아이디 난에 ‘브리스가’라고 적기를 좋아합니다. 바울 선생님이 성도들에게 문안하면서 자주 언급했던 이름 ‘브리스 가와 아굴라’, 그 ‘브리스가’입니다. 작은 할머니라는 의미의 이름입니다. 이제는 어느덧 제가 작은 할머니가 되지 않았겠습니까? 뿐만 아니라 남편 아굴라와 함께 초대교회 때 자기 가정을 열어 교회를 모이도록 했던 헌신된 삶을 살았던 분이라 제가 참 좋아하거든요.
이왕이면 이제는 좋은 별명을 갖고 싶습니다. 하긴 별명이라는 것이 그 사람의 특성을 보여주는 것이니까 별명 이전에 그런 삶을 살아야 되겠지요. ‘염려분과 위원장’ 보다는 ‘감사분과 위원장’, ‘미안분과 위원장’ 보다는 ‘사랑분과 위원장’, ‘삐치기 선수’ 보다는 ‘도우미 선수’ 라면 얼마나 좋겠습니까? 그러다보니 생각나는 시구가 있습니다. ‘지우고 다시 쓰는 생각’이라는 시입니다.
‘미운’사람의 ‘ㅁ’을 썼다가 지우고 ‘사랑’하는 사람의 ‘ㅅ’을 썼습니다.
처음에는 그를 미워하는 줄 알았습니다. 그러나 다시 생각하니 나는 그를 깊이 사랑하고 있습니다.
‘절망’의 ‘ㅈ’을 썼다가 지우고 ‘희망’의 ‘ㅎ’를 썼습니다.
이제 좋은 별명을 만들어가는 삶을 살고 싶습니다.
Today again, feeling sorry about something, I said, "Honey, I'm sorry." My husband responded, "Are you carrying out your duties as the Chairperson of the Apology Committee again? Isn't it about time to step down? These days, committees are merging and downsizing, you know." He is quite right. I really don't know why I always find so many things to apologize for. Yet, this is not my only nickname. I also hold titles such as 'Chairperson of the Worry Committee' and 'Champion of Pouting.'
Speaking of nicknames brings back memories of the ones I had in my childhood. There were names like 'Shorty,' 'Gombae' (meaning a protruding back of the head), and 'Big-Eyes.' Looking back, most of them were based on my physical features. I was small in stature, the back of my head stuck out distinctly, and my eyes were so large that people teased that only eyes could be seen on my face. However, it seems family members living under the same roof rarely gave nicknames based on physical traits; those mostly came from friends and relatives. As I grew a bit older, my mother gave me quite a few nicknames, mainly reflecting my behavior. To my mother—who possessed remarkable skill, a warm heart, and an innate sense of style and neatness—the way I went about my chores must have seemed frustratingly slow and devoid of any urgency. So she would call me 'Slowpoke' or 'Easygoing.' At the same time, because I wasn't meticulously thorough and tended to be absentminded, she also called me 'Scatterbrain.'
Not long after my husband began his pastoral ministry, a deaconess gave me another nickname: 'Three-Quarter Time.' It came about because I was slow to catch on to the deacons' jokes—meaning I couldn't quite follow the wit and was always three-quarters of a beat behind. To be fair, I truly struggle with getting jokes. That earned me yet another nickname: 'The Textbook.' It meant I was simply too rigid and straight-laced. I really have had so many nicknames. All of them were given to me by others, and admittedly, they all suit me rather well.
Yet, there is also a nickname I gave myself. Quite some time ago, during a group counseling session, the nickname I chose for myself was 'Wildflower.' It is a modest little flower that doesn't easily catch the eye. It might even be a blossom without a name. Yet, if you step closer to take a gentle look, it is lovely, bringing a soft smile along a dry, parched roadside. I chose that name because I wanted to become such a person.
There is another name I have grown fond of using for quite some time now. Whenever I log onto an internet site, an ID is required, and I love typing 'Prisca' into the username box. It is the very 'Prisca'—from Priscilla and Aquila—whom the Apostle Paul frequently mentioned with affection when sending greetings to the saints. The name carries the meaning of 'little grandmother' or 'venerable ancient.' After all, haven't I already quietly become a little grandmother myself? Moreover, together with her husband Aquila, she lived a devoted life, opening her home in the early church so that the congregation could gather for worship, and for that, I admire her deeply.
Since I have this chance, I now wish to carry good nicknames. Of course, since a nickname naturally reflects who a person is, one must first live a life worthy of such a name before bearing it. How wonderful would it be if, instead of 'Chairperson of the Worry Committee,' I were known as 'Chairperson of the Gratitude Committee'; instead of 'Chairperson of the Apology Committee,' 'Chairperson of the Love Committee'; and instead of 'Champion of Pouting,' a 'Champion Helper'? Thinking along these lines brings to mind a line of poetry. It is from a poem titled Thoughts of Erasing and Rewriting:
I wrote down the 'H' of 'Hate,'
then erased it and wrote down the 'L' of 'Love.'
At first, I thought I despised him;
but thinking it over again, I love him deeply.
I wrote down the 'D' of 'Despair,'
then erased it and wrote down the 'H' of 'Hope.'
From now on, I want to live a life that gently creates and earns beautiful nicknames.
Vandag weer, omdat ek oor iets jammer gevoel het, het ek gesê: "Liefie, ek is jammer." My man het toe geantwoord: "Voer jy nou alweer jou pligte as die Voorsitter van die Jammer-komitee uit? Is dit nie lankal tyd om uit te tree nie? Komitees word deesdae tog saamgesmelt en afgeskaf." Hy het 'n punt. Ek weet werklik nie waarom daar altyd soveel dinge is waaroor ek jammer voel nie. Maar dit is nie my enigste bynaam nie; ek is ook al die 'Voorsitter van die Besorgdheidskomitee' en die 'Kampioen van Pruil' genoem.
Om oor byname te praat, laat my terugdink aan dié uit my kinderdae. Name soos 'Kiepie', 'Gombae' ('n bultende agterkop), en 'Groot-oë'. As ek daaraan dink, was dit meestal byname wat op my liggaamlike kenmerke gegrond was. Ek was klein van postuur, die agterkant van my kop het nogal uitgestaan, en my oë was so groot dat mense gespot het dat daar niks anders as oë op my gesig te sien was nie. Tog lyk dit nie of familielede wat onder dieselfde dak woon, sommer byname gee wat op liggaamlike eienskappe dui nie; dié het hoofsaaklik van maats en familie buite die huis gekom. Namate ek ouer geword het, het my ma my nogal 'n hele paar byname gegee, meestal oor my gedrag. Vir my ma—wat nie net begaafd met haar hande en sag van geaardheid was nie, maar ook 'n fyn sin vir netheid gehad het—moes die manier waarop ek my take gedoen het, sekerlik frustrerend stadig en sonder enige haas gelyk het. Daarom het sy my 'Drentelaar' of 'Gemaklike' genoem. En tog, omdat ek ook nie altyd deeglik en noukeurig was nie en soms vergeetagtig was, het sy my ook 'Warhoof' genoem.
Nie lank nadat my man met sy gemeentebediening begin het nie, het 'n sekere diakones my nóg 'n bynaam gegee: 'Driekwartmaat'. Dit het ontstaan omdat ek nooit vinnig genoeg was om die diakens se grappies te snap nie—ek het die fyn spotterny eenvoudig nie dadelik begryp nie en was altyd 'n driekwart-maat agter. Om die waarheid te sê, sukkel ek maar van nature om grappies te verstaan. Dit het my nóg 'n bynaam besorg: 'Die Handboek'. Dit het beteken dat ek heeltemal te vormlik en streng volgens die reëls was. Ek het werklik baie byname gehad! Almal is deur ander aan my gegee, en hulle het my eintlik almal taamlik goed gepas.
Maar daar is ook 'n bynaam wat ek myself gegee het. 'n Hele ruk gelede, tydens 'n groepterapiesessie, het ek vir myself die bynaam 'Veldblommetjie' gekies. Dit is 'n klein, onopvallende blommetjie wat nie maklik die oog vang nie. Miskien is dit selfs 'n blom sonder 'n naam. Maar as 'n mens nader buk en mooi kyk, is dit pragtig en bring dit 'n glimlag langs 'n dorre paadjie te voorskyn. Ek het daardie naam gekies omdat ek so 'n mens wou wees.
Daar is ook 'n naam wat ek al geruime tyd met groot vreugde gebruik. Wanneer 'n mens op 'n webwerf aanteken, het jy 'n gebruikersnaam nodig, en ek tik baie graag 'Prisca' in daardie spasie in. Dit is die einste 'Prisca'—van Priscilla en Aquila—wat Paulus die leraar so dikwels genoem het wanneer hy die gelowiges gegroet het. Dit is 'n naam wat 'klein ouma' of 'eerbiedwaardige dame' beteken. Het ek intussen nie selfs 'n klein ouma geword nie? Boonop het sy saam met haar man Aquila 'n toegewyde lewe gelei deur hul huis in die vroeë kerk oop te stel sodat die gemeente daar kon vergader, en daarom het ek so 'n diep liefde vir haar.
Noudat ek die keuse het, wil ek liewer goeie byname dra. 'n Bynaam weerspieël immers 'n mens se wese, so 'n mens moet eers so 'n lewe lei voordat jy die bynaam kan verdien. Hoe wonderlik sou dit nie wees as ek liewer die 'Voorsitter van die Dankbaarheidskomitee' kon wees in plaas van die 'Voorsitter van die Besorgdheidskomitee'; die 'Voorsitter van die Liefdeskomitee' in plaas van die 'Voorsitter van die Jammer-komitee'; en 'n 'Kampioen-Helper' in plaas van 'n 'Kampioen van Pruil' nie? Terwyl ek hieroor nadink, kom 'n strofe uit 'n gedig by my op. Dit kom uit die gedig Gedagtes oor Uitvee en Oorskryf:
Ek het die 'H' van 'Haat' geskryf,
dit toe uitgevee en die 'L' van 'Liefde' neergeskryf.
Aanvanklik het ek gedink ek haat hom;
maar toe ek weer nadink, het ek hom innig lief.
Ek het die 'W' van 'Wanhoop' geskryf,
dit toe uitgevee en die 'H' van 'Hoop' neergeskryf.
Nou wil ek 'n lewe lei wat stelselmatig mooi byname voortbring.