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Love tattoo,
originally uploaded by Marusula.

Last weekend, I celebrated the first birthday of my one and only tattoo. I wanted a tattoo for 8 years before I actualy got this one. There were a number of things that held me back, but the biggest were the fact that I had never liked my body enough to want to decorate it and also had never found anything that I wanted to keep around for the duration of my time in this form.

But last summer, things shifted. My first big relationship ended after almost two years, and I saw the move, “What the Bleep Do We Know.” In that movie, there is a section that discusses the work of Dr. Masaru Emoto. He did research with water and was able to show that water was influenced by words, thoughs and environments in both positive and negative ways. (Go check out the website to see it for yourself, www.whatthebleep.com). Water was labeled with the word “LOVE” and frozen under a microscope, creating heart-stoppingly lovely ice crystals. Water from the same source, when labeled with the word “WATER,” did not produce the same crystals.

This study struck a chord with me, and so I went out soon after, and labeled my own body (a water vessel in it’s own right) with the word Love, so as to influence my water molecules to be beautiful.

I continue to be pleased with the tattoo, but I’ve recently realized that I’m going after this whole happiness and fulfillment thing the wrong way and the original intent behind the tattoo was part of the problem. I keep expecting something external to come along and save me, fix me, change me. I thought my unhappiness was rooted in my last job, so I took steps to change the job, and was stunned to find that traces of the old melancholy came right with me to the new workplace. I’ve been on this kick recently where I want the world to look at me think that I’m extraordinary. But how is anyone going to think I’m extraordinary when I’m not thinking about myself? And what’s more, why does my own sense of okayness hinge on how the world sees me? I’ve wasted many an hour weeping, screaming out to the universe, asking for someone, something to come along and save me, but this time, it can’t be external, it has to come from inside of me. And that scares the shit out of me, because it’s really hard.

I got the Love tattoo, because I thought that I could change myself from the outside and now I know that just doesn’t work. So, for year number two of the tattoo’s existence, it’s purpose is changing. I’m using it as a reminder to look in as opposed to out.

I’ll keep you posted on how it’s going.