On a networking site that I'm completely addicted to there was a quiz asking: Which tattoo should you get? It struck me, as I was whizzin' though the answers, that I've never had any real desire to have a tattoo. Adorning my body permanently is not something I spend much thought energy on. But when I did, I felt the weight (and possible pain) of a serious commitment. Subconsciously, I might have pushed such thoughts even deeper into a plane of detachment after a blood draw during my pregnancy with my son. The Novice Nurse with a Needle story. I can't even Once Upon A Tell it because it is such a vivid and nauseating memory. I have a high threshold for pain. Natural childbirth? Nothing. Root Canal? Bring it on. But, since 1996, I've had a difficult time with needles. But I might be making progress because I did invite this thought: If I were to get one, what would it be? Like all trusting moments in faith, I cast the thought out onto the ethereal sea and knew some sign would wash up. And it did...on my phone...after dropping it...in the crazy morning hours of Christmas...while "children were" NOT "nestled all snug in their beds, while visions of sugar-plums danced in their heads" because they were trying to get a glimpse of Old Saint Nick. Yes. The sign arrived at 4:34 A.M.. Yes. A as in Ahhhh and M as in Mannn. For the last several months, I'd had Life Is Good as my screensaver. I think it sorta sums things up. I had no intention of changing it. The phone-gods had other plans. Rather than punish me for being so careless they offered up a visual to motivate me through my exhaustion: The Lotus Flower
Now, where to put it?