I've been dithering and deliberating about the need for a tattoo ever since last summer, when it seemed quite a good way of marking my diaconal ordination,- and, helpfully, a tattoo artist was scheduled to go to Greenbelt.
Sadly s/he was finally decided to be a health and safety risk too far, so the Festival passed without any further action, and then real life took over and I somehow never got round to it, though I do have a semi deal with One Pedestrian that if I will then she will, so will I...This summer, after the wonders of priesting, the question has arisen again. My poor husband is more than a little bemused by the whole thing (to put it bluntly, he thinks I'm mad)...and I was slightly deterred myself when Simon Parke, a writer whom I usually applaud loudly in the Church Times (there has to be something to applaud there, apart from Dave Walker's cartoons) wrote an article disparaging the need to preserve a moment in this way.
But still the urge lingers, and I'm not totally sure why. Sue writes beautifully about the thinking behind her tattoo, but my motives are nothing like as clearcut. I'd have a very small celtic cross on my heel, I think...nothing strikingly original, but a simple reminder of an important stage on this journey from, to and with God.
Since I'm totally incapable of making almost any decision without lots of advice,- ("So that she can have something to ignore", says husband between gritted teeth) I'd be glad to hear what anyone else thinks.