It had to be something meaningful to me…
Wow! This photo makes me look curvaceous. Unfortunately, I am nowhere near curvy!
I wasn’t going to jump on the tattoo bandwagon that started ten or so years ago, when Madonna and Angelina Jolie and Sporty Spice and every second teenage girl and middleclass mum was getting a tattoo to show how hip, cool and alternative they were…
That’s more like my uncurvy shape.
I waited until I turned 42. My non-tattooed darling bought it for me for my birthday. I was afraid he wouldn’t approve, but he did and he likes it.
Gary came and held my hand… but it hurt about as much as I expected it would. Like a Chinese burn, really.
My dedication to exploring a non-dual, Buddhist yoga, inscribed upon the aging, ever-changing vehicle of the body, something that is not me, not mine, which has and will continue to grow older and eventually, will die.
This is my dedication:
I was given depression that I may understand
I was stripped of everything that I may learn non-attachment and contentment
I made the darkest choices of all, that I may understand those choices
May my life be of benefit to others,
May my service be of benefit to others,
May I come closer to non-attachment and contentment through the Eightfold Paths I have been shown
This is the dedication of the symbol, I carry with me always and forever.
Om shanti, shanti, shanti.
Hari Om. Tat sat.