Spilled Ink

I like tattoos.

Tattoos jive very well with my two most firm beliefs about the human body:

  1. The human body is not some sacred thing; it’s a life-support system for your brain, and its only purpose is to carry you around on adventures for 80 or so years until it wears out, and
  2. You own it.

I don’t think you should disrespect your body, but that’s because replacement parts are very expensive, and it’s a sound investment to do regular maintenance. Plus, the generally healthier you are, the more adventures you’ll get to go on.

But you don’t have the slightest obligation to keep it unmodified in its original condition. Your body isn’t a John Deere tractor; you’re not leasing it. It’s 100% yours. And that means you can modify it, decorate it, or operate it any way you please.

I particularly like this quote: “You don’t have a soul. You are a soul. You have a body.”

Now, all this comes with the same caveats any choices come with – choices have consequences and every action you take tells a story about you. If you choose to operate your body by filling the tank with alcohol all the time, you’re within your rights to do so, but you might regret it later. And of course you have a responsibility to operate your body in such a way as to not harm anyone else. As long as you’re doing all that, though, I say have fun. Dye your hair. Get your nose pierced. Get that tattoo.

I always laugh when someone says “Don’t you know those things are permanent?” Permanent? Ha ha ha! All we are is dust in the wind, dude.

Like in all things, I give the advice to always be aware of what messages you’re sending with your actions, and to make sure they’re the messages you want to be sending. But that’s not any more true of tattoos than anything else you do. Go through life consciously and deliberately, and your other choices will be fine.

Oh, but please, for the love of all that is holy: Spell check.

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