Permanent Ink...

It may come as a surprise that I have a tattoo. It certainly surprises me from time to time.
I feel that I have told the story of how this came to pass so many times, it might help to record it somewhere. For posterity, at the least, but also because it's a good reminder for me.

I won't go into all the details of how I came to the following conclusions -- I'll likely be working that out in therapy in the near future. Instead, I'll skip to the crux of the matter.

I am not the most graceful person. And anyone who remotely knows me will recognize that sentence for the gross misunderstatement that it is. Due to my propensity to injure myself making the smallest and most inane of gestures I have collected various scars, including 2 on my face. I didn't have control over getting these scars. I did not choose to receive them, yet they changed my appearance in small but irreversible ways.

Likewise, I carry a mixed bag of emotional scars from past events that were beyond my control. I guess I'm referring to what most people call "emotional baggage" - the stuff that seems to follow you and color the way you approach every new situation you come across. Like the physical ones, I did not choose the emotional scars.

Over the years, the emotional wounds began to give me a perspective on life that I didn't enjoy. I spent some years depressed - cover the window with a blanket, go days without eating, stay in bed for 18 hours a day depressed. Slowly but surely, following an incredible series of events that included a move across the country and the biggest life decisions I have faced yet, I crept out of that hole and began to live my life again.

And so to the tattoo. A tattoo is a sort of scar, but a scar received by choice - which serves as a metaphor for me taking control of my life and learning to own my decisions. The symbol in the center is a kanji - a japanese symbol. No, I have no connection to Japanese culture whatsoever (except an enduring love for anime) but the symbol itself inspired me. It has a broader meaning than a simple word, but basically embodies happiness - Joy.

And so, I made the conscious decision to be scarred with Joy. To me, this means that every day I wake up and, whether it's a good day or a bad day, I take every opportunity I can to remind myself that I want my life to be marked by Joy - by the things I choose, and not the negative things that happen to me by chance or because of someone else.

And there you have it. It wasn't an act of whim, or youthful rebellion. I won't be turning 40 and deciding to have it lasered off my back - just like I won't ask a plastic surgeon to remove the little scar next to my eyebrow from where I passed out in the park and bonked my head when I was 17. It's a part of my face. It gives me character. Kinda like the little wrinkle that shows where my smile lines are.

And it totally freaks out the Soccer Moms. :)