Coming up with a name for a blog is no easy thing, especially when you’re fixated on a title that someone else already nabbed. I tried White Horse, Windhorse, Running Horse, Horseology, Horse Lover, and dozens of variations on that theme.
Every time the message came up “Domain name taken,” I had a little tantrum. Pretty soon I was saying, “Who are these people? I bet they’re terrible writers. Why are they taking all the good names? How greedy of them.”
It reminds me of a family story about my rather formidable grandmother, Lola, at the outset of World War II. She became convinced that people would buy every jar of black raspberry jam available, causing a terrible shortage. So she bought all the black raspberry jam she could find. As my grandfather wryly pointed out, “She wanted to buy it before the hoarders got there.”
That story always reminds me to examine my own hoarding tendencies. In the case of the blog title, I was hoarding resentment and the belief that any title I dreamed up was rightly mine.
The opposite of hoarding is letting go. That tends to be a difficult call, but it yields remarkable returns. I’ve found, counterintuitively, that the more I let go, the more comes my way.
Once I dropped my fixation on certain blog titles, my imagination started running free. Pretty soon the words “galloping mind” hove into view. I’ve used that phrase many times to describe my thoughts, which have a way of racing around beyond my control. I’ve had to learn to detach from them and watch them from afar, as if they were a horse galloping in a field. Otherwise I’d be riding them all over the place, getting tossed and carried hither and yon. I wouldn’t be able to focus on the here and now.
I love the title Galloping Mind; it suits me better than those previous, obvious options. But before I got there, I took ownership of a different blog title—Horse Spirit—because I wanted something, even though it wasn’t quite right. I wanted to get there before the hoarders did.
Unfortunately, I don’t know how to undo that domain. Somewhere out there, a blogger-in-the-making has attached to the title Horse Spirit and found it’s not available. Because I’m hoarding it.
As for my grandmother’s black raspberry jam—she never used any of it; it sat on the pantry shelves for the duration of the war, gathering dust, until it was tossed away. She didn’t even like the stuff.