My mother’s birthday is the day before mine. So in 1980, on the day before my 10th birthday, my sisters talked me into getting my ears pierced as a surprise “gift” for my mother. (I think they thought it would make my tomboyish appearance seem/look more feminine.) Anyway, needless to say, my mother was surprised, but it was NOT what she had in mind and given the chance she would have had me wait to get them pierced. I suppose it was one of those moments that only makes sense to little kids. But overall, she handled it with grace, understanding the gesture for what it was. I never regretted the decision or even the way it was done. Somehow when I reflect back, that slight body modification brings the mixture of emotions of selflessness, deception and pain/pleasure.

Many years later, in 1989, while I was studying in Rome I had a second hole pierced into my left ear by a guy in a café/bar just a short walk from the “Stazione di Termini” in Rome. This time the decision was all mine, because I wanted a permanent reminder of that place and time. I seldom change that earring without thinking of that moment in my life and how it felt. That memory brings me joy.

As I left Rome, my flight was layed over in Copenhagen. As luck would have it we got snowed in and I had to spend the night. As a young and very inexperienced (air) traveler I didn’t even think to ask for hotel accommodations. Instead, I grabbed a bus and decided to see the city. As the day drained away and evening took its reign I wandered down the snow packed streets toward the docks. It was December and the weather on the water was terribly frigid, but the sights were too enticing to ignore. I began to reflect on the myriad wonderful sights and experiences that I had in my many months traveling through Europe and I felt the strong desire to commemorate them with something permanent. So, around midnight, as I wandered alone on the docks/wharf, I encountered several tattoo parlors that catered to the ‘sailor-types’. I found a suitable proprietor; I settled on a design (a small dagger-pierced heart with ‘Roma’ inscribed on the hilt) and was prepared to begin the process when the small issue of payment came up. I had very little hard currency left in my coffers and the establishment did not accept any form of credit. I pleaded with the proprietor, but was ultimately refused. I left and headed back to the airport, more than a little dejected. As I reflect back I am amused, relieved and disappointed that I don’t have more tangible evidence of this event from my past.

For almost a decade now I have had a tattoo in mind that I would be willing to place on my body. It is a Chinese symbol from the Tao Te Ching, it is the symbol for “impermanence”. For me it is a reminder of a story that I keep alive in my heart: [short version] An emperor offered a reward throughout his kingdom to anyone who could find the thing that would make him happy when he was sad, and sad when he was happy. After many years a wise old man showed up with a simple gold ring that was inscribed with the words “This too shall pass” and the emperor cried when he saw it and paid the man the reward. I have been tempted on several occasions to do the deed, but none have come to fruition. I don’t know if I will ever see the deed done. For what it is worth, the very fact that tattoos have been “in fashion’ lately deters me. But the sentiment is already emblazoned on my heart/psyche in indelible ink.

Perhaps that is the most lasting testament.