I never got any tattoos until I was thirty. Although I am impulsive, I also usually make pretty solid decisions, and so I knew that there was just nothing I wanted on my body that badly. Plus I have this nasty streak of non-conformity, and it felt like all the cool kids got tattoos, and I didn't want to do what everyone else was doing. Don't ask me why my brain is this way, it just is. It's the same thought process that caused me to not have a dishwasher for ten years. Sometimes I like doing things the hardest possible way.
Anyway, when I did finally decide to get one, it's no surprise that I chose text. I just like words better than pictures. So, my first tattoo is on my back, and it's a Greek word that is used often in the New Testament to describe Jesus' feeling of deep compassion ("suffering-with") those who are hurting.
My second one came about in September. I had been mulling it over for about a year, since I first started reading the Yoga Sutras during my teacher training. The Sutras are a golden thread of proverbs that weave together the philosophy of yoga. On my better days, I read from the Bible, the Sutras, and then meditate for 20 minutes in the morning. Some days I can't get it together. But on the days that I do, I'm never disappointed with this choice.
In my reading, over time, I came across a Sutra that spoke to me particularly. It's the twelfth one. In Sanskrit, it says "abhyasa vairagyabhyam tat nirodhah." There are many ways to translate this, and (as I've discovered since having this tattoo) none of them are easy to explain. I have no elevator speech for this tattoo. If you ask me about it (and people do, because it's visible and beautiful), be prepared for a 20-minute discussion on the intricacies of yogic meditation. Sometimes I even ask people, midway, if they'd just like to be done with the conversation. It seems more merciful that way.
Anyway, the English translation of this tattoo is "they are restrained by practice and non-attachment." What is "they?" The vrittis. "Vritti" literally means "whirlpool," and it means all those distortions and misperceptions that our minds are so good at feeding us, thus warping reality.
So, how do we restrain the vrittis? Well . . . this is yoga! This is the very purpose of why we try to bring about union between mind, body, and breath. All of the asana (postures), dhyana (meditation), and all the rest of it, are meant to begin to tame these vrittis, to dismiss them. But in particular, we try to balance two ways of being: one related to effort, the other related to non-effort.
This is abhyasa vairagya. Abhyasa means "practice." In order to restrain the vrittis, we must practice. We put in effort. We try to steady the mind. We meditate, we practice asana. We do good things, and we try to not do bad things. We eat our vegetables and do our homework, so to speak.
Vairagya is "detachment" or "dispassion." Oh, this is so hard for me! I am a passionate person by nature. I cling and expect. I crave. It is far easier for me to practice than it is for me to detach. But detachment from the fruit of one's action is necessary. So much of what gets warped in our minds is because of expectation. But we can't force a flower to bloom before its time, can we? Tearing it open would be both cruel and useless. If the flower told us, "I am going to bloom on December 3," and then it took another week, would we just throw it away, because it had not fulfilled our expectation?
So, I got this tattoo because it is how I try to live my life. Am I there yet? Absolutely not. I have handled so many situations with a total lack of practice and detachment. But I'm working on it. And practice makes progress.