It has happened. I threw my nonconforming ideals to the wind and got my very first tattoo. Having debated this for sometime, I always felt unsure of what to get and where to put it on my body. I did, however, trust that I would make the decision on this trip.
At first, I asked Sebastian to sketch some symbols, creative designs in an attempt to incorporate my essence. I considered things that I hold closest to my heart, such as life and love, peace and truth, family and travel. Ultimately, nothing he drew inspired me enough to permanently mark my skin. (DISSED!) In passing, without much conscious thought, I mentioned wanting to find a guru while in India who would give me a symbol that would later become my tattoo. That cherished morning at Yoga Magic, when I discovered the heart patch lying upside down on the dried up lawn, I knew I had found it. It was a sign, my omen from God, the answer to what I was seeking. My tattoo is the union of three hearts, two small ones embedded within a larger heart. Three hearts in one representing the mind, body, spirit connection. It symbolizes what I embody and manifest and share with everyone, love, my divine essence and what I know to be the truest thing in this life. My root belief in the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. A reminder of the magical day I danced with God, the day my soul moved to a different beat, connected on a deeper level. A symbol of my beloved India and how I feel on this trip, with all the adventures and the freedom and change that resonates in my being. An emblem of all that I was, all that I am, and all that I will grow to be. I tend to wear my heart on my sleeve and now it will forever be imprinted on my skin. Plus, three is my favorite number.
In the days that followed, we check out several different tattoo shops until we find the perfect one. We befriend Andy, the British expat owner of a shop located on the beaches of Anjuna, Goa. Covered in ink, he has been an artist since he was twelve years old. The parlor is gleaming clean, with all the needles individually wrapped and sanitized. We book an appointment for our final day in Goa since swimming and tanning is prohibited for a minimum of three days. I consider backing out, but as the due date approaches, I know I am going through with it. I am committed.
Already tattoo savvy, Sebastian goes first. He selects the word “origin,” written in Malayalam, the language of Kerala, across his left forearm. After Andy disinfects his arm and shaves the hair, he transfers the sketched pen image onto his skin to ensure its proper placement. The tattoo guns begins buzzing, reminding me of a dentist’s drill. My skin crawls, my jaw tightens up. I watch Sebastian, gritting his teeth, nostrils flailing every time Andy hits a sensitive spot. Forty-five minutes later, it is complete and looks tribal, fierce, intense. Hardedge black letters with a delicate touch, we both immediately love it.
My turn. I go through the same process of disinfecting, of transferring the sketch onto the perfect spot. I choose my back, under my shoulder blade, off towards the side of my body, somewhere in between my bra line and waist, touching my lower rib. I lay in a half fetal position as Andy begins his work. The initial piercing of the gun stuns me and I am tempted to quit. As he creates the outline, I feel the tip of the needle burn into my skin. I draw on my strengths as a fighter, my calming mentality as a meditator and courageously bear it. Every few seconds, he stops to observe his work while refilling the ink, giving me a chance to breath and refocus. Thirty minutes of feverish pain and it is finished. Stunning, so perfectly symmetrical, in the most beautiful location. It is truly me, my essence, manifested in art, now on my body. It was not until after he started did Andy confess I chose one of the most painful spots to get a tattoo. Appropriate for me, for when I do something, I never take the easy way!
We celebrate at a beachside bar watching the sunset, drinking cold beers as we scrutinize and study our new tattoos. We gush excitedly over how great they look, despite the slight burning pain. I am in shock that I actually went through with it. Taking stock of the moment, of literally marking this moment, we kick back and allow the magnitude to set in, humbled by how fortunate we are and how amazing life is. We sense its coming to a close soon, but we will never forget this experience. Every time we look at our own individual tattoos, we will be transported back to the beaches of Goa, gazing out into the Arabian Sea, relishing the sunset and in the sharing of life.
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