The Phoenix Firebird

22May08

I recently got a new tattoo. I have a mild addiction to this form of self-expression but I’ve kept myself contained to only having four (so far). After all, good ink doesn’t come cheap. This year, in honor of my 27th birthday, some dear folks in my life donated money to my ink fund. So with a few ideas in mind, this weekend I submitted myself to the hands of a tattoo master and the pointy end of a vibrating needle.

I’m not the kind of personality that is content with walking into a tattoo parlor, picking a design off the wall and letting some no-name artist (or skuz-bucket with a gun) brand me for life. All of my ink, with the exception of my first tattoo, involved months of preparation and planning. I start with an idea then research artists and shops, looking at reviews and portfolios before calling and making an appointment. Sometimes this process takes years, but since it’s not one of those things you get to “do over” if you mess it up, the meticulousness of it all is very worthwhile for me.

On Saturday, I had a phoenix forever imprinted on my leg and foot. For those of you who slept during Greek mythology here’s a crash course on this history of this creature. The phoenix is an ancient mythical firebird that ignites into flame when it has reached the end of its lifespan and is reborn from the ashes. Pretty badass huh?

As we’ve discussed, I’ve been through a lot of rebirths in my 27th years on the planet Earth. Whenever my birthday rolls around I can’t help but reminisce and sometime shudder at all I’ve walked through. I’d be lying if I tried to pull the “woe is me” card because most of the crap that has happened to me or around me has been self induced by a lot of poor decision making. Never the less, I’ve always come out on top and hopefully better off than I was before.

But let me tell you, the fire isn’t easy. It’s painful. Even more painful than having the top of your foot tattooed… and take it from me – that HURTS.

During this season of my life I find myself in the fire once again. All of my trips to the inferno have made me realize that it’s best to suck it up and get it over with, sort of like digging out a splinter. Yeah, it hurts, but not as bad as it will once it gets all oozy and infected. I can’t run from the demons that I have picked up along the road of the world. Running away from dealing with things only prolongs the pain and spreads it out on more people around me. So I choose to stand firm, not back down and accept the flames that are refining me.

In my experience, self discovery has always been excruciating. I’ve spent more time on “the couch” than my wallet would like to admit. Recently my therapist has been trying to make me cry because apparently my tear ducts are broken. I think it’s because I have lost my soul sometime over the past few years. My friends tell me that I can’t cry because I crush scorpions, but that’s a whole different blog… and tattoo. 🙂

Filed under: Body Ink, Life Ramblings   |  2 Comments
Tags: Body Ink, fire, life changes