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Chapter 1:
Who am I? (1-9-6)
“Who am I?” A fair question, and as it is a question that is written upon my left forearm I suppose it’s a question I find fairly important. I would like to think that most people throughout the course of their lives dwell upon the question of who they are, however it seems this is mostly not so. Am I the only one who gives conscious thought to this conundrum of existence? Does no one else care about this aspect of their being for self?
To be honest, most of my time is spent in search of an answer to this question. In every moment of my life I am confronted with the opportunity to choose out of an infinite myriad of possibilities - who I am. When unfavorable circumstances occur I find it best to remember that I can choose who I am, with conscious deliberation. In fact everyone makes this choice, just not always unconsciously. For the first half of my life, it seems I chose who I was by reacting to the environment around me. Now because of the inked ruination of my left arm I remember that I am able to choose who I am by creating the circumstances in my life.
I feel that my tattoos are a form of body armor; except that instead of protecting my body, the armor is made from it. In fact, the armor of my body protects my mind and heart, when every time that I look at my arm I am confronted by the question “who are you?” It is a lot of work to walk my talk, but if I am able to meet the challenge of conscious living, that I will have taken the first step in my journey toward life’s end. After all I believe that it is the journey that is important and not the destination.