Why Tirithien?
Why Tirithien? It makes no sense at first blush, though some LOTR fans may see the roots of the Fortress of Minas Tirith contained within.
Yet, it does make sense.
Tirithien is White Elvish, and a literal translation of my first name. As Casey means the Vigilant in Scots Gaelic, Tirithien means the same in White Elvish. Yet, there is more beyond a simple direct translation.
When one views my family crest, lettered below its masthead are the words "Be Watchful." We are lowland Scots, we fought with Wallace at Sterling Bridge, and that heart of the warrior poet still beats within me. I am a healer by calling, but my history and my destiny has me also as a protector.
Yet, it does make sense.
Tirithien is White Elvish, and a literal translation of my first name. As Casey means the Vigilant in Scots Gaelic, Tirithien means the same in White Elvish. Yet, there is more beyond a simple direct translation.
When one views my family crest, lettered below its masthead are the words "Be Watchful." We are lowland Scots, we fought with Wallace at Sterling Bridge, and that heart of the warrior poet still beats within me. I am a healer by calling, but my history and my destiny has me also as a protector.
posted by Tirithien at 2:43 PM
2 Comments:
Being a healer and being a protector are not mutually exclusive. They're really two sides of the same coin, and you are called to be both. Your nature is such that it can encompass both, and do so with ease. These are the things which God created you to be, so it makes sense that you are given the wherewithal to be both and be them well. Great courage is needed for either role, my warrior poet.
I never claimed the two as mutually exclusive, and they are not such. After the protector's job is done, the healer jumps in. What slings and arrows of outrageous fortune the protector could not block, the healer must mend.
I do my best at both. I try and prevent as much pain as I can, I try to hold closer and guard tighter, but when the threat is gone, the healer in me must go to work. There, the dark thrill of combat is replaced by impotent grief and anger at the pain caused, and tears fall, bathing the wounds.
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