Names are our most personal possession. It is through our name that we announce to the world who we are, bringing what's inside us outside and allowing people to find a connection into us. Many cultures around the world reserve the first name for family and close friends, believing it to be a private thing shared only in intimacy.

Names carry energy. Our names not only serve as a way to identify and differentiate us from others, but they have energy of their own. When you change your name, you avail yourself of a change in energy and identity.

When I was 12, I wanted to change my name. "Karen" did not define or describe me, I felt. True, I was still finding out who I was and as a result I had just begun writing nightly letters about my life and thoughts to my cat, Sheba, inspired greatly by the passion and earnestness of Anne Frank, but I knew deep inside that I somehow had the wrong name. I tried playing with the spelling — for a few months I wrote my name as Karyn — but that seemed like a meager compromise. My parents were no help: "You can change your name when you're 18." I was crushed. I knew that Karen wasn't ME.

The thought plagued me from time to time as the years went on. For awhile I entertained the idea of becoming Solara until Toyota named a car that. I played with changing my last name a few times and feeling the difference in energy that resulted. I became a new person every time I stepped into the energy of a different name. Eventually, I stepped back into my birth name in order to close a circle and to once again embrace my connection to my family of origin. I had already been working with the last name of "Murphy", though (the choosing of that one is a story in itself), and chose to continue with it since so many people knew me that way.

This year has brought wonderful transformation for me. From the gift of cancer I've felt the invitation to look ever more deeply inward and to release things I had been holding onto in order to bring myself outward ever more. Before I left on my road trip this past month, I knew that deep change would occur as a result, though I didn't know in what way. I pointed my car into the rising sun and drove into summer in the Southwest, and there I found things and released still others.

I first heard of The Kabalarians in the 90's when choosing baby names. The idea that names carried energy seemed obvious to me. Last month, then, while in Tucson, I was reminded of this organization. Something huge clicked inside me. It's time to be myself. It's time to change my name. The problem I had had at 12 wasn't in the deciding to change the name, it was how to choose the right name. How many thousands of names are there in the world? How many more thousands of names could be created? I was vastly overwhelmed at 12. So the idea of choosing a name that aligns with one's birth path potential made enormous sense to me. That's what The Kabalarians do. I was given a list of 50 or so names to choose from. Several could be ruled out instantly, but how to choose the "right" name?

I became 12 again, and asked my Twelve-Self which name she wanted. There was one clear choice: Talyaa Liera.

I don't feel as if I am birthing someone new, but rather that I am now bringing outward the Me that I have been all along.