I've never been very decisive when it comes to life decisions. Often, I've accused myself of analysis paralysis which often leads to no decision at all. Unfortunately, life has a tendency to make choices for you when you refuse to make them on your own.
Without benefit of a segue, enter acts of antinomianism. Antinomianism is the belief that moral laws are relative in meaning and application as opposed to fixed or universal1. In this context, acts are just that. Actions that reveal the truth or falsity of such a theory.
My first act of experimental antinomianism was to get a tattoo. I don't know why I chose that but I know the lesson that followed was not foreseen. In today's society, getting a tattoo isn't rebellious or even frowned upon. Internally, a tattoo was out of my character, my rules, my morals. Rough guys had tattoos. I am not a rough guy. Blue collar guys get tattoos. I am not blue collar. Sailors get tattoos. I am not a sailor. In this context, these rules and 'morals' had no foundation. This I knew but there is a difference between knowing and knowing. Those who know, read the Bible and know that theft is bad. Often, they steal anyway. Those that know, aren't tempted to steal even if they once did because the intellectual belief has become manifest at the soul level.
For those of you that don't think stealing is wrong, fine. At the moment, I am speaking of those who do.
When it came to a tattoo, I didn't know why it was out of character or even why it was 'bad'. So, I thought about it. I turned the idea over and for me quite quickly decided to toss out my old rules an non applicable and decided upon becoming one with Isis. The search for the design commenced. Eventually, it came to me in a collage my mentor made for me as a birthday gift. Then hesitation set in. I wondered what would happen if I didn't like it? What would happen if it wasn't perfect? What would happen if I picked the wrong goddess? Then something snapped. I was tired of playing 'what if'. I had the picture altered a bit by the artist and went for it. The artist was impressed that my first tattoo was an 8 x 12 back piece.
I told no one but the future 'my gal' and vowed not to say a word until someone else noticed through natural events. This was another act of antinomianism for I have a big mouth. I see no reason not to say most things unless it violates another's privacy. So this was a change for me. I kept silent for a couple of months before someone noticed her wings peeking out from under a garment.
Again sans the segue, I've never understood why anyone cared about what went on in anyone else's life. Get a new stereo? Wonderful. Go the movies? Have a blast. If you want to express your joy, I will be happy to listen. But really, deep down, it doesn't effect me much. I'd still be your friend if I didn't know. So imagine my chagrin when people got mad that I didn't tell them? Actually mad. I learned people do care about what goes on in my life. I know this but I don't know why.
So why write about this now? The tattoo ties into the very expensive thing my HGA directed me to buy. The lesson of the tattoo was learning to make a decision about something big without worrying about being wrong. The design of the expensive thing is mine as I understand the concept of what it represents at this moment. I created that design without a single 'what if'. As my understanding grows, I may look at this bobble as an embarrassingly quaint but I will know it is a vitally important marker on my journey.