Letters from a Young Radical

I've been in various conversations recently where I'm confronted with someone who expresses a distaste for permanent ink based on a belief that the body is essentially perfect as-is; That the body we were born with is what's "right" in a sense. Even my mother, who is an artist and quite a radical thinker herself, seems to think of them as a way to ruin a work of art, while I think of it as a way to improve a blank canvas (among other, more important purposes).

This idea that getting a tattoo is a radical, regrettable or irresponsible thing to do is wholly confusing to me, as it seems like one of those common beliefs that comes from an outdated cultural rather than a really useful place. Some might use the term "universal ethics" - I think for example that being kind to people is a really useful ethic, while hating homosexuals is not so useful.

I have no problem with any tattoo for any purpose - I think they're lovely and interesting and in general a great way to give the finger to mainstream society and anyone who would judge based on appearance. I'm not terribly concerned about the idea of suddenly being 80 and the worst thing I ever did in my life was get a silly tattoo. I feel that I'm fairly well-adjusted, and if there comes a time in my life when I feel that the themes of my tattoos (currently strength, optimism, curiosity and compassion) are no longer important, I'll have worse things to worry about than covering up my skin. If anything, I hope these will always be reminders of things that should be important to me until I die.

Which brings me to what I really want to talk about: why I'm getting tattoos. I'm not at all against people who get tats just because they look cool, or to separate visibly from society, but I have reasons in addition to those.

The first tat I got is technically my Start Here Designs logo (www.startheredesigns.com), which I spent a semester agonizing and occasionally even crying about. It was a soul-searching journey where our professor really forced us to ask what truly characterizes us as people. What is my life all about? Can you imagine - there were some kids that hadn't ever thought of it before. So I came up with this thing that looks like a little "creature fetus", yet to be born. I based it in great deal off of the character of The Fool in the Tarot, characterized by Cindi Kirkpatrick:

"the fool is eternal. He is the spirit in us that questions, he is the adventure in us that leaves safe places to find new things, he is the part of us that is hungry enough to want more and silly enough to take the risks to find what we need."

This is a way of thinking I hope to hold and to represent my whole life. The logo which became my first tattoo represents the eternal newborn, the journey, optimism, hope, all good things. I got it after graduating from college, about to move to Seattle and start my "adult" life.

My second tattoo I got a little over a month ago, and it says "b r e a t h e.". I got that one after mostly, though not completely, overcoming a fairly serious bout of panic disorder, something I never expected to have to deal with in my life. I'm still living with it to some degree, and the tattoo has reminded both me and those around me to be mindful in the moment and to slow things down when things seem hard. It reminds me that I have felt recovered at times, and that I can get over this thing.

I got got what I consider to be a fairly gigantic tat on my right arm today. This one is a little different, based on Jack Kerouac's The Dharma Bums and inspired by this particular passage:

"... a world full of rucksack wanderers, Dharma Bums refusing to subscribe to the general demand that they consume production and therefore have to work for the privilege of consuming, all that crap they didn't really want anyway such as refrigerators, TV sets, cars, at least new fancy cars, certain hair oils and deodorants and general junk you finally always see a week later in the garbage anyway, all of them imprisoned in a system of work, produce, consume, work, produce, consume, I see a vision of a great rucksack revolution thousands or even millions of young Americans wandering around with rucksacks, going up to mountains to pray, making children laugh and old men glad, making young girls happy and old girls happier, all of 'em Zen Lunatics who go about writing poems that happen to appear in their heads for no reason and also by being kind and also by strange unexpected acts keep giving visions of eternal freedom to everybody and to all living creatures..."

That philosophy characterizes a lot of my current feelings about the world, and the book The Dharma Bums became my comfort in the uncertain times between graduating in Rochester and moving to Seattle - we were at the time crashing with my partner's brothers. Kerouac reminds me a great deal of myself - much more of an onlooker and a follower of beautiful people and things, and although we look to him as a legend, it's obvious from the way that he writes that he had as many moments of doubt as we all have.

So this tattoo, although I'm not a rucksack revolutionary of any kind - I've never hopped a train or camped alone in the mountains or written haikus - but there's a love for life and a curiosity and joy about eastern spirituality that I'm really excited about. So perhaps this is something I want to bring into my life, rather than something I can say I accomplished.

What I find really important about getting tattoos of things that are meaningful to you is the pain. My poor grandmother would cringe at the idea. But what I felt when I got this Dharma Bums tattoo today was absolutely beyond anything I've ever experienced before. Purposeful pain for two hours straight, and more pain probably than I've ever really felt save a good bout of food poisoning. Many really fascinating things happened to me over those two hours - including being absolutely horrified and then intrigued, and then moving into states of absolute tolerance where I didn't really mind or notice the pain although I knew it was there, to states of alternating hopelessness and euphoria. I became really emotional, I was to touched at one point I almost cried, I wanted to embrace the person who was delivering the pain, I wanted to embrace everyone around me, I wanted to know who had walked in the door. I felt a bit like I do when I'm drunk. It was lovely.

But all mushy bits aside, I really think this is an important metaphor. Life really can be painful, and to get to a good place in life can be really hard, and every minute is worth it. In order to dedicate myself to the things I have or want tattoos about, I'm going to have to devote myself to a lot of pain in a way. My politics, wanting to bring positive change to the world, wanting to connect to people and spread an awareness of compassion and unity, working class revolution - all this stuff people think is totally wacky. It's going to really SUCK trying to be a voice for these things, but that's how it is. And it's all about the journey, and I'm ready, and these tattoos are promises to myself and to everyone that I'm not going to give up.

Another thing I found really interesting was how relaxed and happy I felt for the rest of the day. I haven't felt that relaxed in AGES. It was a lot like the feeling just after getting a really good massage, and as I've learned, after receiving reiki. Everything was perfect, everything had slowed.