What's in a name (or a number)?

- Mar 12, 2025

In July 2022, I did something wild. After watching the dogs running around under my nose in the recently fenced-up dog park below my building, I started to google dog breeds for fun, you know. What kind would I get, if I ever got one?

Next thing you know, instead of writing (which I do first thing in the morning, by the window), I found myself combing online listings for cavapoo or cockapoo puppies. The reason? I’d identified the breed as good ‘dogs for beginners’.

When I named my dog Nandi, I didn’t leave the choice of name to chance. Anxious about his upcoming arrival – in large part due to the fact I didn’t grow up with dogs and I am a bona fide cat person – I wanted to conjure my perfect canine friend through its name. Also, the breeder required this ASAP to produce his pet passport. He’d been christened Prinz. I wasn’t having that (though now I admit that he looks a bit like a ‘petit prince’).

I found his name while researching another sanskrit term, Astra (not quite right, as it means weapon). The four-letter-word Nandi (नन्दि) means “happy”, “joy”, and “satisfaction”. It refers to the sacred bull and vehicle of the Hindu god Shiva, symbolising devotion, strength and spiritual wisdom. It so happens that my favorite Hindu goddess (I do love a goddess) is Parvati, who is considered Nandi’s mother. If that wasn’t fate, what is?

When Nandi was delivered into my open hands, I almost gave him back. He was so small! Unlike a kitten, he looked very breakable. He slept on my lap for the eight-hour ride home (Nandi’s Austrian by birth, so it was a bit of a drive back to Geneva). He has proven indeed to be he who brings joy and satisfaction – even my neighbours would agree, despite his occasional barks at the door.

Talking about goddesses, and names, when I was 10 or 11 years old, I remember being given some free paperbacks about Greek and Latin mythology. Reading them transported me into another world. My parents didn’t care about the meaning of our names when we were born, my brother and I – I am making an assumption here, they are no longer available to illuminate me on the subject.

Their focus was set, I believe, on personal preference and family heritage, given that Google wasn’t available, and can I hardly imagine my dad (then 50 years old, a beloved and well-established ob-gyn) looking at a baby names book. My parents also had limited options in terms of ‘outside the box’ thinking. Before I arrived into this world, there was a dispute between my father and mother: he wanted Virginie (the name of his beloved grandmother) and she Anne (I never figured out why, there are no Annes in our family tree that I can see). They compromised. Sigh. I was named (though not christened) Anne Virginie without the « -» in the middle, making me an odd double-name child. My entire family, however, called me Virginie from the day I blinked my eyes open. They still do. Anne exists elsewhere. The odd relation on my mother’s side will once in a while refer to me as Anne Virginie. Who is she? I’m not sure.

I blamed my parents for this choice, cursing them under my breath for a number of years. Terrible naming, I’d think to myself.

A teenage friend, the infamous, floppy-haired Ben, decided to call me Anne-Vi, which I found horrifying the moment I heard him holler the name at me in our highschool courtyard. Teenage gossip travels faster than wildfire. Within a day or two, my fate was sealed.

On a spur of inspiration, I reframed this nickname, making it my own by changing its spelling. I became Annvi. Until I entered an English-speaking workplace, at which point spelling my last name was enough of a problem. Anne would do just fine.

If you thought that was it for my names, you’re mistaken.

Not long ago, I was listening to the coach and Playing Big author, ​Tara Mohr​, discussing her ​inner mentor​ visualisation. I did mine three years ago and had a fun trip into a dream-like future where I met a version of me that looked as it you’d crossed present time me with my yoga teacher ​Annie Carpenter.​ My inner mentor and I met in my mind: she was sitting on a panoramic, curved, chartreuse velvet sofa in a pleasant and airy living room, leading off to other spaces in a house that looked like my favorite country ‘casale’ type in Tuscany, complete with original rust-colored bricks. When I asked her what her name was, she replied: ‘Professoressa Nanie,’ which was so absurd sounding it also rang true.

Mohr suggested that we look up the name of our inner mentor for meaning. For an instant I thought, no, I don’t need to do that. ​Nanie​ is my childhood moniker. And yet, I found myself online a second later. Stunned, I learned it means "favor” or “grace”. How lovely! The name “Nanie” is also described as meaning “beautiful” whether we look to Greek origins or Hawaiian (fancy that). Anne may have been boring, but Nanie is gracious and beautiful. I wish I’d known that a few decades ago.

There’s much to be said about what names can evoque, even if the meaning is hidden at first.

Just as my parents had considered the cultural and familial significance of my name, I’ve intrinsically known for a long time that successful business naming requires a clear understanding of brand values, the audience we hope to reach and long-term vision. In both cases, a name is a powerful identifier, carrying with it a wealth of meaning and potential.

You could say I’m a useful kind of friend. I have helped loved ones when they were in need of someone to facilitate a brainstorm to name their startups, or small business, an honor I was proud to have been bestowed. I’ve also coached entrepreneurs and freelancers to deliver their taglines as well, with a rather dialectic delivery method.

And yet, when it came to my own business…

For someone preoccupied as I am with communication – and naming! – one could wonder why I decided to call my company AVM Consulting. Original it is not, though I am fond of my initials: there is something satisfying about how the AV slots together, and how somehow V is inversely mirrored in the capital M.

It’s the word “consulting” that I’ve come to have an issue with, both on a practical and philosophical level.

Let’s not be too harsh with “2017 Anne’. She knew she didn’t want to go into another luxury head of communications position, or anything higher up the foodchain for that matter, but doing the same work as a fractional executive was an easy transition. Except that word – fractional – hadn’t been invented yet to describe this particular executive offering. Everyone around her leaving their positions and offering for-hire services called themselves “consultant”. Which is fine, until one comes to understand that this word calls to a very different kind of consulting – that of the big four, or is it five? McKinsey trained I am not. And my methods, values and beliefs could not be more at odds with those of the corporate behemoths.

I’ve come to see the ways in which using three letters, mine though they were, in front of this opaque term was a form of hiding strategy. I’ve written here before about the ways in which I used to respond to the odious question: what do you do? “I’m a consultant.” In a mixture of shyness and self-effacement, I’d wait for the person in front of me to ask the rather inevitable follow up: “what kind of consultant?” It used to be so easy, when I worked for someone else.

“Le cordonnier est toujours le plus mal chaussé” they say. As a communication expert, I did the work but would delight in talking about anything but myself. To present myself, honestly, generously, directly, that’s been one of the real WIP – work in progress – of my life.

For the past seven years, I’ve taken dozens of courses, literally dozens (I will try to establish a total eventually). I didn’t know why I was doing that, not quite, or how this would impact my work, the type of business I was thinking of running, first as a solo-consultant, or as an entrepreneur. I knew I wanted to do something generous, innovative, but had no idea what shape it would take.

So I experimented. I gave myself a couple of years to try a bunch of things, always with an intention of seeing what would come through and, as much as I could, rooted in a sense of service to my clients and generosity. I could write a whole book about what didn’t yield any positive results, and the ways in which I let myself down (I have a tendency to offer a lot of free consulting without noticing). Let’s own the fact that this was my necessary learning curve.

In conversation a couple of years ago, I heard someone say that no energy is ever wasted or goes lost. That’s one of the laws of physics in the universe that energy just transmits from one form to another. Like ice turns into water. Water turns into vapor. Vapor turns into rain. It just transmutes forms. Similarly, as I invested myself in courses, projects, certifications, I immersed myself.

Still in that experimental phase, late last year, I started to put together presentations meant to be sent to corporate entities, to invite them to discover my blend of branding, storytelling and coaching. I stopped midway through, though, because something just didn’t fit. Yeah. It was something that came from my gut. It felt like the offer didn’t align with what was online, on my website. And suddenly, I knew then, that the problem was not the content as much as the header. The name.

My offering and ideas were at odds with the word “consulting”.

I was stuck. I honoured the stickiness, and went to put my energy elsewhere. Until …

In doing research for Out of the Clouds, I listened to an interview with speaking coach and TEDxLondon curator ​Maryam Pasha,​ whom I had briefly met a couple of years ago. I remember very well being on the TGV, the high-speed train between Geneva and Paris, which was bringing me home after an intense, albeit short, trip to the French capital. For the last leg of the journey, the train starts to snake through between mountains and lakes, pine trees and sharp cliffs. For one conditioned to work while she travels, this time is frustrating as our ubiquitous connectivity vanishes. After trying to refresh my computer screen 17 times, I eventually took this as a sign to dose off while listening to ​Maryam in conversation with Hannah Sosa​ (who recently interviewed me too: listen ​here​).

Somehow, in the middle of the conversation, Maryam talks about her journey to setting up her business. She addresses the word “consulting” being one to steer clear of. Instead, she argued how she used another term – “productions” – when she was building her company.

Huh. I perked up, my eyes blinking open, taking in the view outside the window.

Her story reinforced what my gut had been communicating to me. It’s time to change things up.

In an instant, my resolution was made. AVM Consulting was no more. I needed to move on with a name that would conjure a bolder, clearer vision, just like the word Nandi had done for my beloved puppy.

In a wondrous twist of fate, I realised there was a low-hanging fruit, right there in front of me.

Having decided to host a salon almost two years ago, I serendipitously landed on the name “Le Trente”, – in French, because after all, I am living in French-speaking Geneva, Switzerland. Three months into using the name, I started to question what was so appealing about the word. I like the sound of it. Le Trente. Not far from the word *”étreinte”. My curiosity took me to my old friend Google, and imagine my surprise when I discovered the numerological meaning of the number 30.

In numerology, 30 is associated with creativity, communication, and optimism. It combines the energies of 3 (self-expression, joy and creativity) and 0 (amplification and wholeness), resulting in a dynamic and imaginative essence. Key meanings include:

• Creative expression: encourages artistic endeavors and innovation.

• Social harmony: promotes effective communication, teamwork and positive relationships.

• Spiritual growth: represents inner wisdom, spiritual awakening and connection to the divine.

• Optimism and joy: inspires a bright outlook on life and emotional fulfillment.

• New beginnings: symbolizes a fresh start and personal growth opportunities.

The name I’d given to these salon gatherings encapsulated not just the intention I had for the kind of interactions I wanted to invite, but it also felt like it mirrored those things that I care about, and traits I embody.

I could have infused meaning into any name I chose for my business, because I knew that’s what we do in marketing. But what a gift to be given to realise there was this built-in container already waiting for me.

This week, AVM Consulting became Le Trente.

While I’m still working on the website and refining new offerings, the mission and vision I have for this new endeavour is clear. And I’m excited about this new beginning.

Le Trente is a global community for open-minded people and purpose-driven brands seeking meaningful connections and inspiration. We offer a safe space to engage in deep conversations, explore new ideas and nurture your personal and professional growth. Born in Geneva, but with plans to expand across the world, Le Trente is a business and social hub with a difference.

Inspired by the creative and social energy of the number 30, Le Trente cultivates a vibrant in-person community through:

- Mindful gatherings: From inspiring salons to brand masterminds and mindfulness workshops, we create opportunities for reflection, personal growth and authentic connection.
- Creative fuel: Enjoy delicious, Mediterranean-inspired vegetarian fare and seasonal tasting menus that nourish the body and soul.
- A space to flourish: Le Trente ​was born in my welcoming living space, which made for the perfect setting for intimate conversations and serendipitous encounters.

At Le Trente, we believe in the power of interconnectedness. We’re building a community where everyone shines their light, contributing to a collective that uplifts and inspires. Our mantra? We like to make magic happen by …

… connecting people.

… supporting the creation or flourishing of innovative brands.

… helping companies grow through conscious communication.

… inspiring leaders to act from a place of compassion.

… creating safe spaces for personal exploration.

We live in a paradox. Never before have we been so digitally connected, yet many feel increasingly isolated. With Le Trente, I am taking a stake in my community to offer an antidote: a space for genuine in-person connection where you can build meaningful relationships, engage in self-reflection and find support on your business journey and personal development.

There is a part of me that wishes I could travel back in time so I could invite Anne from 2017 to look further than her initials and the word ‘consulting’ to launch her new solopreneur career. Of course, what makes me a compelling communications coach and expert is because I’ve made many of my own mistakes and they inform the tools and methodologies that help my clients do better than I did.

I dreamt of finding an innovative business idea, but I never envisioned that it could take me to become a host, a gatherer, a facilitator. Yet I feel misty-eyed just at the thought of what we can do, together, as a community, as well as the opportunity that has manifested in front of me.

Just as fatefully as I found the name for my fluffy friend Nandi, he who brings joy and satisfaction, Le Trente landed in my lap laden with the energy of self-expression, joy and creativity. It’s with awe and surprise that I recognize that serendipity will deliver gifts of meanings we could never have imagined.

This journey of naming – from pets (or kids) to businesses – has shown me that the perfect name often reveals itself when we listen to our instinct, but that it serves to give ourselves to experiment. No energy spent will effectively ever be wasted.

In the end, whether personal or professional, a name is more than just a label; it’s a reflection of our values, aspirations and the unique story we wish to tell. The joy I felt when naming my dog Nandi, and the sense of identity I’ve developed around my own name, as much as Le Trente, reminds me that effective business names should evoke similar emotional responses. A well-chosen name can become the heart of a brand’s story.

If this story resonates with you or you know someone who may benefit from exploring their own journey with names and identity, I invite you to reach out. Let’s have a conversation. I would love to hear from you.

You can simply reply to this email or, if you feel inspired, pass this message along to someone in your life who might find it meaningful. Together, we can explore the power of names and the transformative energy they carry.

Wishing you all the best on your journey of self-discovery and connection.

Until next time.

* “Étreinte” is a French noun that generally means embrace or hug, often conveying a sense of affection or love. It can also refer to a tight grasp or grip, whether physical or figurative. In a broader sense, it can imply a close or intimate connection