That Which Makes Us
Jan. 23rd, 2022 09:54 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
seeyatBirth marks, stretch marks, scars, freckles & moles…
Things which make us are not always made by us and that is beautiful.
Scars are evidence of memories, freckles are often evidence we’ve spent too much time in the sun. Birth marks are a permanent reminder of how we began. Stretch marks a time-worn reminder of lives ever changing.
In a way, tattoos are an attempt to recreate this uniqueness without speech or explanation, often detailing interest and individuality but there is none more profound than the description of how we became; how our bodies claimed this individuality for its own in experience
Who we are cannot be comprehended from a picture when each of us is a collaborative effort of moments in memories, discovery… contemplation of our very selves
“Who am I?” cannot be answered but experienced in the purest forms of living
These permanent reminders of decisions made, lives altered, where we’ve risen and where we’ve faltered… they are all perfect.
We are all perfect
…but only when we accept the undeniable fact that perfection is a fantasy
Things which make us are not always made by us and that is beautiful.
Scars are evidence of memories, freckles are often evidence we’ve spent too much time in the sun. Birth marks are a permanent reminder of how we began. Stretch marks a time-worn reminder of lives ever changing.
In a way, tattoos are an attempt to recreate this uniqueness without speech or explanation, often detailing interest and individuality but there is none more profound than the description of how we became; how our bodies claimed this individuality for its own in experience
Who we are cannot be comprehended from a picture when each of us is a collaborative effort of moments in memories, discovery… contemplation of our very selves
“Who am I?” cannot be answered but experienced in the purest forms of living
These permanent reminders of decisions made, lives altered, where we’ve risen and where we’ve faltered… they are all perfect.
We are all perfect
…but only when we accept the undeniable fact that perfection is a fantasy
