get inked

I have a secret - I want a tattoo.

Not the kind that covers the entirety of an arm or chest with intricate and colorful artwork, but rather just a small, simple symbol.

For some of you, the thought of getting “inked” - even the slightest of designs - has never crossed your mind, and you may be thinking, “How could this piece possibly be relevant or relatable?”

But hear me out. I, too, question my tattoo fascination, and have yet to succumb to a needle.

Growing up, tattoos were taboo in my family in the sense that they were never, ever, ever considered. In fact, my father didn’t even like the idea of any of his five daughters getting our ears pierced. “If God had wanted you to have holes in your earlobes, he (she) would have created them.”

As such, we never spoke of tattoos. Still, we all got our ears pierced (and for some of us, more than one hole in more than one lobe).

When I was five, I cut my own bangs with grass sheers. For different reasons, my father didn’t like bangs and objected, so I lived with the unsightly consequence of my own doing until my hair eventually grew out.

But my fascination with tattoos has little to do with rebelling against my father and more to do with the concept of permanence…but I will get to that.

Over the years, I have done my research, asking tattooed friends and acquaintances how they chose the artwork that is displayed on their bodies - sometimes prominently, sometimes not.

Three stars on the wrist of a friend, representing her three children. The initials of a boy who died from cancer too young, on the chest of a 28-year-old man. WWJD (What Would Jesus Do) set as an inspirational reminder.

Certainly, part of my dilemma is the “what”, and I have given that quite a bit of thought.

The initials of our fourth son – WSF - who passed away when he was not yet two? The roman numeral VII, to represent my family? A circle and triangle to pay tribute to my commitment to recovery?

The trouble is I am indecisive, and while I agonize over a dinner menu, that choice is short-lived. A tattoo is not.

And even if I land on the perfect “what”, I am still left with the “why”. I have never settled on an adequate answer, so that elusive “why” has prevented me from walking into a parlor and surrendering to the pain.

Today, many associate tattoos with biker gangs and sailors, but in fact 32% of people in America have at least one tattoo (and 22% have more than one) according to the Pew Research Center. And their “why”?

69% of inked adults say that their decision to get a tattoo had to do with honoring or remembering someone or something. 47% say they got a tattoo to make a statement about a belief or passion.

I understand both perspectives. My future tattoo would serve to honor, remember, and/or state a belief.

Digging deeper though, I still wonder about the need to indelibly mark my body. Certainly, there are other ways to pay tribute or express a commitment to an idea or entity that doesn’t involve a needle and ink?

And this is where the idea of permanence comes in.

Permanence is the state and quality of lasting and remaining unchanged indefinitely. But if we take a hard look at life, I think we could agree that nothing actually stays the same.

Our children grow up. Technology innovates. A sunset fades. We graduate. An illness progresses. Grass grows. Relationships shift. Babies are born. People die.

The energy of the world is dynamic and in constant motion. And yet, sometimes we want (maybe need) to freeze a moment, a person, an idea (my children would certainly say that I am guilty of this every time I grab my cell phone and demand just one more picture).

And with everything changing all of the time, we may feel the desire to hold on tight – to loved ones, a favorite place, a passion, even a core belief.

Buddhists would argue that trying to hold onto the notion of permanence when change is the inherent nature of things is at the root of our suffering. And when we understand that reality, our ability to value what we have when we have it increases exponentially. Impermanence can teach us how to treasure every aspect of life and how to live it more fully.

Yet although it may be an illusion, the idea of permanence - not impermanence - gives us a sense of security, consistency, and reliability. So we strive for that.

If you sat at my computer, you would be astonished by the number of yellow stickies that frame the screen. Some are simple reminders - buy dog food, get car washed - but most are more nuanced: friends I want to contact, favorite quotes, writing ideas, and even current goals.

And while a yellow sticky is not permanent, with so much vying for our attention, writing these things down helps me remember who I am and what is important; things that I don’t want to forget. I want those thoughts to be sketched in ink, permanently.

Which is not that dissimilar to a tattoo. A permanent reminder of who I am and what is important to me.

Maybe a tattoo is a pause; a reaction to our ever-changing world, a chance to preserve indefinitely.

Or maybe we have been changed so profoundly and permanently by a loved one, a place, or a belief that we need to find a spot close to our heart to recognize that.

And maybe it's personal, or maybe we want the world to know how grateful we are.

Will I ever get a tattoo? That’s a secret.

But to have people, places, and even core beliefs that are worthy of our honor and our celebration - that is a gift, that we can keep with us always, permanently.