I light-heartedly tell him that I don't wear make-up, so tattoos are my way of adorning my body, the way Maori warriors and my ancestors (I am part Malay) still do.
But on a serious note, my tattoos is about me, and my journey in life, where I am at the moment. Each tattoo tells a story, and is my tool to give me strength and inspiration. As a lifelong student of Vedanta, I would like to present this analogy to you: your body is the car and your soul the driver. Vedanta teaches us to keep our 'car' in good condition (hence the physical practice of yoga) so that it can take the driver where the driver (your soul) wants to go. So it is the driver that matters, not the car.
Going deeper into this analogy, my first car was a cute yellow Spitfire. It had a soft top, and on summer days, we would fold down the canvas roof and cruise across southern England with baby in the small rear. But all convertibles are dangerous, because if the car flips upside down, the passengers will be crushed by the weight of the car. My Baby Daddy allowed me to drive this car on the condition that a roll bar is fitted over the top, so that in the event that the car turns upside down, we would be saved by the roll bar. So Design Change #1.
Many years later, as our family grew, we bought a Land Rover. The Land Rover is rugged and meant for country use and rough terrains. It looks tough and I felt great in one. But it also has a bull bar in front. The reason for the bull bar is to protect the car from rampaging wild animals. But the bull bar is also dangerous if the car runs over small children because of its height, hardness and the way it sticks out. So reluctantly, we took the bull bar off. Thus Design Change #2.
So back to tattoos and my body. I love my body and all its imperfections. It is a canvas of my life's journey. My latest tattoo is the Sanskrit word Svasili. It means breathe. Why breathe on my left wrist? Question for my next group of trainee teachers :)
