My first tattoo

Seth got his first tattoo (without my permission) when he was fourteen. The law said he had to be 18, but somehow he persuaded them…. I was dismayed. “What if you don’t like it later in life? What will happen when you get old and your skin sags?” Since then he has acquired more tattoos, some very beautiful in the style of ukiyo-e. A great many people I love have them: anarchists, radicals, artists, musicians, rebels of various kinds. Queers and non-binary people.

I think at one time tattoos were class markers. Perhaps they’re still scorned by conventional aspiring-to-be-bourgeois capitalist folk like my mother was. Do I care? Nah.

Like many of us, I have a habit of judging myself not good enough, not worthy, not adequate. Buddhism teaches us to stop that. Teaches us to love ourselves—if not as much as we love others, at least enough to stop beating ourselves up. We wake up every day and begin again to remember that everything is impermanent, we’re all in this together, we’re part of each other. What harms one person harms us all. Our actions matter.

The “Five Remembrances” as translated by Thich Nhat Hanh are the following:

I am of the nature to grow old.
There is no way to escape growing old.

I am of the nature to have ill-health.
There is no way to escape having ill-health.

I am of the nature to die.
There is no way to escape death.

All that is dear to me and everyone I love are of the nature to change.
There is no way to escape being separated from them.

My actions are my only true belongings.
I cannot escape the consequences of my actions.
My actions are the ground on which I stand.

When I wake up each day I can gaze at my left arm and be reminded that I stand on my actions. When the lettering heals, I might get a lotus on the right arm.